#three!!! we’re on a net loss of 3 so far

[calcbench]

Calcbench How-To: Making Charts

Calcbench can help financial analysts in all sorts of ways. Today we want to demonstrate one of those ways that’s critically important for career success: how to whip up a chart of financial data quickly and easily, so you can drop it into a research presentation and impress the boss.

Our example company is Bed, Bath & Beyond ($BBBY), the troubled retailer that just filed its second-quarter report last weekend. Its numbers were not good; revenue and gross profit both were both down sharply from the year-ago period, while the company’s operating loss ballooned from $84.1 million one year ago to $346.2 million today. Ouch.

So if you wanted to make a quick chart depicting BBBY’s current state of affairs, how would you do it? We’ll show you.

Begin by pulling up BBBY’s quarterly numbers on the Company-in-Detail page. Be sure to hit the “Previous Period” tab on the far right, so you have lots of quarters you can review. It will look something like Figure 1, below.

In theory, you could use our short-cut (which we’ll introduce momentarily) to conjure up a chart for any of the line-items you see above. Except those quarters in Figure 1 are backwards; we start with the most recent on the left, working outward to earlier quarters on the right. In a chart, most people would expect the data to flow the other way around (earliest data on the left, later periods on the right).

To rectify that, simply hit the Reverse Order tab you’ll see on the right side above the display; we’ve circled it in red, above. That will reflow the quarterly data so it’s ready to export in a readable sequence.

Next, select the line-item you want to turn into a chart. In our case we went with Net Sales, which then became high-lighted in teal. When you do that, you’ll see a small image of a bar chart (three bars) appear next to the line’s subject along with some other choices: notes, tag, and compare. See Figure 2, below.

Press that bar chart image, and Calcbench will automatically whip up a simple line chart for that line-item you’ve selected. It will appear on your screen. See Figure 3, below.

You can download the chart as a PDF directly to your desktop using that small arrow button in the upper-left corner of the chart. From there you can drop it into whatever presentation you like.

In our case, we can see that BBBY had a plunge in net sales in first-quarter 2020 — but then again, who didn’t? The whole world was on Covid lockdown. Subsequently, however, BBBY enjoyed a brief rebound but then more quarters of decline, bringing BBBY to the brink of going down the drain today.

You can do the same chart creation for any company, with any line item where you see that small bar-chart icon. Anything we can do to help you impress the boss, we’re happy to do it!

[apollos-boyfriend]

Don’t think of it as losing followers think of it as making room for stronger ones 💪

pspsps-ing cjordan fans over to replace the empty spaces

[st-louis]

i think it has to be said that when anthony sanfilippo thinks you’re being a fucking asshole about your goalie in public, you’re being a fucking asshole about your goalie in public.

specifically:

There’s no doubt that this approach can work, but the coach needs to read the room before he employs it. And here’s where I don’t think Vigneault has read the Flyers room correctly.

Because I think they despise him for it.

He’s not the first coach the players don’t like, nor will be the last. Coaches aren’t hired to come in and make friends with the players. It’s why John Stevens, an excellent hockey mind and really good assistant coach, has never been able to make it as a head coach at the highest level.

Some guys just aren’t cut out to be the hammer. Vigneault is. Like this quote after he pulled Hart because “I didn’t think he played well” after allowing three first period goals in a game against the Sabres in mid-March:

“I believe he has to battle a little bit harder in goal at this time. I’m confident that he’ll work with (goalie coach) Kim (Dillabaugh) and try and get his game where it needs to be so that our team will have a chance in every game.”

But where Vigneault may have pushed the envelope with his assessment of Hart a little too far, is in his last three starts, all of which have been varying degrees of good.

In the 4-2 loss to Boston Tuesday, a game in which Hart played well, but didn’t make the spectacular stop to save the game on Brad Marchand’s shorthanded goal, rather than say he sees progress with Hart’s return, Vigneault continued to be stoic about Hart.

“Carter’s a young goaltender playing a real tough position and he’s trying his best.”

Then, after Thursday’s shootout loss to the Islanders, where Hart looked superb, especially after New York built an early 2-0 lead, Vigneault still wouldn’t give him much credit.

At first he dismissed the notion of Hart’s progression by qualifying that Hart didn’t face too many shots. Granted he was only credited with 21 saves, but it’s not like he only saw 13 shots the entire game. Here was the entire quote:

“He didn’t get a lot of work, but he had a couple of big saves to make and he did make them.”

That’s it. Now, in a normal season, you wouldn’t make much of a short answer. They happen sometimes in press conferences. But in this year, when he’s had so much more to say about the goalie in the negative, it’s hard to just dismiss this as a quick answer.

It’s so much more than that.

The Flyers aren’t quitting. It’s obvious by their play in the last four games, even if it still amounts to missing the playoffs, this team hasn’t thrown in the towel.

But there’s a sense that they aren’t too fond of how Vigneault is pushing Hart. It’s no secret that AV had Hall of Fame goalies in Vancouver (Roberto Luongo) and New York (Henrik Lundqvist), which allowed for his systems to flourish, and he wants to push Hart to reach that echelon while still coaching the team.

Maybe there’s a different way to do it. Maybe the team needs to hear more positivity about a young goalie whose work ethic has never waned, even during his unexpected struggles this season. Hart works as hard at his craft as anyone in the sport, and remained diligent even during the roughest patch of his hockey life.

Because when you flash back to Shayne Gostisbehere’s quote about how the team is playing in front of their goalies, it now jumps out at you as it being a way to defend Hart (and to a lesser extent Elliott) and shoulder some blame, since Vigneault is the anti-Andy Reid in his press conferences and hardly ever – if at all – falls on the sword for his players.

“It’s straight not good enough right now. We’re letting guys fucking absolutely beat us up in front of the net and it makes our goaltenders look like absolute shit and it’s not fair. We have to be better as a team.”

That was a refreshingly honest statement from Ghost, but also probably an example of how sometimes shouldering responsibility is better received in the locker room than cold and vapid responses.

Some might say the 2021 athlete needs to grow a pair if they can’t handle criticism by the coach. And I tend to agree. But at the same time, the modern day athlete doesn’t just need to adjust to the old school coach. Sometimes the old school coach needs to coalesce a little bit and adjust to the modern day athlete too.

[donteattheappleshook]

She Came From the Water Chapter 6/?

Summary

Between his dissatisfying job, a constant battle to keep seeing his daughter, and a history of mistakes, losses, and broken dreams, Killian Jones has no place for magic in his life. But when he pulls in his fishing nets one evening only to find a woman caught in them, his life becomes infinitely more complicated. Is she a siren, a selkie, like his daughter believes, or just another lost soul like himself? Suddenly, his life is a thing of fairytales; beautiful women hidden away in cottages, selkie husbands coming back to claim them, and, just maybe, a chance at happily ever after.

A Captain Swan AU based on the film Ondine (2009) for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M for eventual smut.

I’m going to stop guessing at how long this fic is going to be.

Read it on Ao3  or Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5

Thank you so much @ultraluckycatnd​ for helping me through all my insecurities about this fic <3 you’re such a lovely beta and person <3

Big thank you as well to @elizabeethan​ @the-darkdragonfly​ and @xhookswenchx​ for letting me brainstorm out loud to you!

Finally thank you to @itsfabianadocarmo​ for this lovely aesthetic that made me start writing this fic again. 

****

Part 6

"Someone’s here." 

She looks outside again and Killian tenses. Nobody ever comes out here. Not unannounced. “Go into the bedroom," he tells her, absentmindedly stroking her arm. "I’ll see who it is.” 

He does his best to stay calm. Surely it’s David or Mary Margaret come to say hello. They just forgot to call. But he can’t shake the feeling that her past has finally shown up, that someone has come to break apart this little world they’ve created for themselves over the last three days and he grieves it already. 

Once she’s shut the door to the bedroom, Killian heads across the kitchen. He can hear it now, someone coming up the drive, steps light and quick like someone sneaking up, trying to avoid being seen. He opens the door, stepping outside in an attempt to keep whoever it is from coming in when suddenly the mystery visitor ducks out from the treeline. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Alice,” he calls and her head snaps up. “What are you doing here? You know you’re not allowed to come without your mum’s permission.” The words burn in his throat as they do every time he has to say them, every time Alice disregards the custody rules set in place. 

“Mum’s not home,” she shrugs. “Besides, I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Did she get her memories back?” Alice continues, ducking right under his arm and into the house behind him. He whirls around. His daughter might not be a threat or someone from Swan’s past coming to take her away, but she doesn’t want to be seen. 

“Alice, wait,” he starts but she’s already headed into the kitchen and dragged a chair to the counter so she can boost herself up and reach the cabinet. She beams when she finds the Poptarts. She’s climbing down and ripping into the bag before he’s even reached her so he can make sure she doesn’t break her neck on the way. “Careful,” he warns but is, of course, ignored. She’s utterly unphased as he scoops her up under her arms to set her safely on the ground. 

“So did she?” she asks again.

“Did she what? Who?” Killian’s head is spinning. 

“The girl in the net,” Alice clarifies, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Really Dad, isn’t this supposed to be your story.”

“Sweetheart, now isn’t a good time.”

“Why not?” she asks and just then the kettle goes off. Alice looks at it and then at the two mugs next to the stove. Killian casts a slightly frantic glance at his bedroom door and her gaze follows him. “Do you have a friend over?” she cocks her head. “Is Ruby visiting? Why is she hiding? Are you doing grown up things again?” 

Killian is going to have a heart attack. “No,” he answers, hoping that Swan didn’t hear anything. “What are grown up things?” 

“I don’t know. You said you’d only tell me when I was older.” 

“Alice I-” The door creaks open and Swan pokes her head out. Killian whirls around, shocked, and wondering how much of the conversation she overheard. She smiles shyly and Killian looks between her and Alice, who beams. How is he going to explain-

“Hello,” his daughter says, setting down her snack and heading over to greet the woman now stepping out of his room. 

“Hello,” Swan answers. Killian stares at them both, unsure what to do or say, worried that this will make the woman staying with him feel betrayed, that it will traumatize his child in some way. But neither of them seem particularly angry or prone to holding this over his head in therapy, so he hesitates. 

“Um, Alice, this is Swan. She’s staying with me for a bit.”

“Oh, we’ve met,” Alice says. Killian’s eyes snap to Swan who nods, looking guilty. When had they met? Why had neither told him? Selkies. Suddenly it makes sense. “Oh, don’t be upset,” his daughter continues dismissively. “I asked her to keep it a secret.”

“Do you think you could keep me a secret?” Swan asks then, casting a glance at him, as though asking for permission. He nods. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.” 

“Why not?” Alice asks, frowning. And then her eyes widen in understanding. “Of course! Because of your seal coat!” Both the adults look at her in confusion. “You wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re here if you can’t remember where you left your seal coat. They could trap you.” 

She casts an uncertain glance at Killian. He doesn’t want to lie to Alice, but he also doesn’t believe that he’d be able to talk her out of her certainty about Swan being a selkie if he tried. He clears his throat, absentmindedly stroking the back of his daughter’s hair. “Right. So let’s not tell anyone just yet, okay, love?”

Alice nods. “I did some research you know,” she starts. “Selkies aren’t dangerous. They’re not like mermaids. They save sailors from drowning rather than pulling them under. Which is strange since in this case it’s you who was saved from drowning. Although, I don’t know if you can actually drown if you’re a seal-woman…” 

She continues on, rattling off facts and theories and rambling and Killian casts a hopeless, affectionate glance at Swan who is watching his daughter with patient interest. Alice has it backwards; he might have been the one who pulled her from the water, but it was he who’d been drowning. She’s reached through all the misery and the darkness he’d let himself surrender to and pulled him back to the surface, breathed air and life back into his lungs.

“And of course you can swim very fast and very long since you can breathe underwater,” Alice continues. “I wonder if you swim as fast as a seal? Although you were swimming without your seal coat. I don’t know what the rules are for a selkie in human form.” She frowns at Swan then. “Is it much much different? Swimming with human legs? It must be more difficult -”

“Do you swim, Alice?” she asks then and Alice shakes her head. 

“No. I’ve never had lessons. And Dad can’t teach me.” Killian glances awkwardly at his feet and shrugs when Swan looks at him in surprise. But she doesn’t pry. Instead, she turns back to his daughter. 

“Would you like to learn?” she asks. “... Unless you’re afraid of the water,” she suggests when Alice hesitates and there’s no challenge in her voice, no taunt, just understanding, like maybe she understands that fear. 

“I wouldn’t be afraid of the water if I had a sea creature with me,” the girl beams and Swan returns it. 

“I can teach you. If it’s okay with your dad.” 

Killian had been watching the interaction between the two in stunned disbelief. The way she’s watching Swan, with awe and admiration and enchantment, he’s never seen Alice so taken with anyone in his life. He wonders if everyone who meets her instantly falls in love with her or if it’s just Joneses. 

“Aye. It’s alright with me. But won’t you be cold?”

“It’s not that cold!” Alice insists and he can already see that there’s a tantrum brewing under the surface if he dares to deny her the chance to swim with a sea creature. 

He tries to hide his smirk. “Alright, but the second your lips turn blue we’re coming in.” 

He doesn’t think she’ll last very long. While the wind is mild today the water was still cold against his skin. No harm in a few minutes in the sea, he reasons, children here grow up with the cold in their blood and the water in their veins. He likes the idea of Alice learning to swim; he thinks he’ll sleep better knowing he doesn’t have to worry about her every time she wades out too far or is on the boat with him. 

Swan reaches out and Alice takes her hand and the two head off out the door towards the shore. They’re still on the steps when Swan turns back to him. “Aren’t you coming?” she asks, as though it should have been obvious that he was invited. He’d assumed this was girl-bonding. He smiles, happy to be included. 

It’s not until they reach the water and Alice kicks off her shoes and socks, dipping her toes in the chilly water that she turns to them both in panic. “I don’t have a swimsuit!” she realises. 

“That’s alright. Neither do I,” Swan consoles her. 

“What will we wear then?” 

Swan considers this for a moment and then shrugs. “Underwear,” she tells her and then pulls her dress off over her head. 

Killian’s mind suddenly goes blank, every thought and sound drowned out by the racing of his heart as his eyes cast over the long lines of her legs. His jaw drops, in shock, in awe, in disbelief. He watches the way her hair falls softly over the curve of her back, every smooth, pale inch of her on display and beautiful under his gaze, smile bright and shining as she laughs. She can’t be real. 

It’s only when she turns to look at him, and her smile falters a little with curiosity, lip catching between her teeth, that he realises he’s staring. He’s suddenly far too aware of his limbs, feeling awkward and clumsy and like he’s taking up far too much space. 

He darts his eyes away, staring fixedly out at the horizon as he tries to calm his racing heart. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as discreetly as he can to try to clear it. But he can’t get the image of her out of his mind. 

He tries to focus on Alice as the two of them wade out into the water, his daughter letting out a shrieking giggle when the cold reaches her knees, her fingers white knuckled against the woman’s. Killian’s certain that if he just stays right here and doesn’t move, doesn’t let his gaze stray from the spot right in front of his feet, that he can get through this without making a fool of himself. 

“Aren’t you coming in, Dad?” Alice calls and the blood drains from his face. 

“It wouldn’t hurt you to learn too!” He glances over at them and Swan throws a look at him, the challenge in it raised with her brow. 

He’d really, really rather not. He can barely handle the effect this woman has on him with all her clothes on. But he notices again the way Alice is clutching her hand, the slight nervousness to her posture despite her incessant bravery and he knows he has to. He kicks off his boots and his socks and leaves them on the shore before wading out after them. As soon as he reaches Alice, she clings tightly to his hand. 

“You swim with all your clothes on?” Swan teases and he smirks.

“I don’t swim.” She rolls her eyes, clearly not letting him off so easily. “Little girls and selkies might not get cold, but fishermen do.” She laughs and, as the water reaches his hips and shoots ice up his spine, he’s glad he’ll have at least one less thing to worry about. 

“Too bad.” She says it so softly he almost doesn’t hear it but his gaze snaps to hers, eyes wide. She’s focused on Alice now, asking if she’s feeling scared, and he wonders if he imagined it. 

“Okay, lie back,” she instructs and lets go of the little girl’s hand so that she can brace one arm under her shoulders and one under her legs, Alice squishing his fingers between both of her hands. “You’re doing great,” Swan encourages even as his daughter flounders a little nervously, letting herself be held up. After a long moment, she finally lets go of his hand and tentatively trails her arms through the water, toes kicking gently and untested. 

“I’m swimming!” she exclaims, nervous laughter bubbling out of her and Killian grins at her proudly. 

“You are!” Swan agrees proudly. “Look at you go, you’re a sea creature!” 

“You’re a natural, love,” he smiles at her. The two of them wade out a little further, Swan guiding the girl in circles, always holding her steady as she gets the hang of floating and he watches, amazed by how taken Alice is and how taken Swan seems to be as well. He’s never even dreamed of letting a woman into his life, not when that life includes Alice and he doesn’t even know if there’s room for someone else in his heart. But seeing them together, he can’t get over how perfectly she fits, or how much he likes it. 

Suddenly, Swan stops, gaze darting down to her foot beneath the waves and he worries she’s maybe cut herself on a rock. She continues to stare, brow furrowing further as she shifts her feet under her. He can see the anxiety building in her and he comes towards them, calling her name softly in question.

“Go to your dad for a second,” she says quickly and Alice must sense her change in mood because she practically leaps across the small space into his arms. He hoists her out of the water and onto his hip just as Swan takes a deep, gasping breath and dives down beneath it. She’s under for a long moment, just long enough that Killian fears he may have to go after her, but panics knowing he can’t do so with Alice out this deep. 

Finally, she breaks the surface, swallowing air in heavy swallows and the relief washes over him so forcefully that he’s made dizzy for a moment. She’s clutching something. It’s dark and leathery and covered in moss and seaweed. 

“What’s that?” Alice asks and Swan stares hard at it. 

“I don’t know. Just… something I found.”

Her eyes go wide suddenly. “Is it your seal-coat?” she asks excitedly.

“Maybe.” Her voice sounds far away.

“Are you going to bury it?”

Swan looks at them then for the first time since before she dove under the water, uncertain. But as her gaze turns to Alice, her expression softens, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Should I?”

“Yes. Then you could stay for seven years.” 

Her smile softens even more. “Would you like that?” Killian can’t help the way his breath catches when her eyes flit to his beneath her lashes. 

“Very much.” He hopes she knows, even if he can’t say it, how much he’d like it too. 

She clutches the leather and weeds to her chest. “Well then, I guess we better bury it.” 

Killian carries his daughter back to shore, Swan following closely behind them. Alice goes on at length without need for an audience about how and where they should hide the ‘seal coat’. Every time he glances back at the woman trailing in their wake, she’s fixated on the item in her hands, her expression unreadable. 

It can’t be her seal coat. That would be impossible, ludicrous, the stuff of fairytales. He appreciates that she’s doing this for Alice, letting her play make believe, indulging her games and fantasies. But the way she’s staring at the waterlogged bundle, like it’s something overwhelming and terrifying and familiar... it makes him doubt everything he believes. 

Maybe she is a selkie. Maybe she did swim here to escape a selkie husband and wind up in his net and in his life. All he knows is fairytale or not, figurative or not, her burying it means something. ‘Would you like that?’ she’d asked. She didn’t have to ask. If she wants to stay, seven years or a hundred, he won’t send her away. 

When they reach shore, Alice wiggles her way out of his arms and, after a small battle over the fact that she had to put her jeans and sweater back on (which she only agreed to when she saw that Swan was dressing as well), she begins leading them off back towards the house. 

“Where are we burying it?” Swan asks, still clutching it carefully. 

“I know the perfect place!” Alice insists.

Killian watches the woman carefully. Every now and then her eyes dart out around her, like she’s expecting someone or something, like she’s being watched. He tries to settle the chill in his bones, the worry that something is coming, that it’s on it’s way now to take her away and ruin this. He fears it; he can’t lose her, not yet. He hasn’t had enough time. He’ll never have enough time. 

Alice runs off ahead of them, disappearing around the back of the cottage. He doesn’t worry. She’s spent years getting lost and found on the grounds and the cliffs and the woods around his home. She knows every inch. When he looks to Swan again she’s frowning, gnawing at her lip as her fingers scratch at the moss and the mud that cover her package. 

He reaches out, fingers brushing gently along her spine, hesitant in his desire to comfort her. She glances up at him, snapped out of whatever train of thought she’d gotten lost in for a little while. He knows the feeling well. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, fingertips still barely touching the dampness of her dress, droplets falling from her hair and onto his knuckles. She watches him for a moment. They’ve stopped walking. He can’t make out her expression. She looks torn, pained and confused and so lost and he wants to help, but he doesn’t know how. 

Her eyes are uncertain as she looks down at the would-be seal coat and then back at him. “I -”

“Come on!” Alice shouts and her mouth snaps shut. Killian turns to wave at his daughter who rolls her eyes in exasperation, waiting with arms crossed. When he looks back at the woman beside him the helpless expression is gone, hidden behind some wall he doesn’t know if he can climb. 

“Swan?” 

She smiles, bright and shining and a lie. “I’m fine. Let’s go,” she insists, heading off after Alice and leaving him no choice but to follow. 

They find her in the greenhouse, an old, broken down thing that had been here when they bought the cottage and that his mother had always meant to turn into something beautiful. She’d run out of time though, and while Killian once swore to himself that he’d finish it for her, the decaying wood of the foundation speaks of his empty promises and forgotten good intentions. 

Swan looks around in wonder, eyes wide and mouth agape as she takes in the overgrown structure. Nature has overtaken it, moss and weeds and late season flowers climbing along the beams and covering the cracked stone floor. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, gazing up at the canopy of leaves that wind around the remains of the ceiling, some trickling down so low that she reaches out to brush them with her fingertips. 

He’s taken in by the sight of her, by the way she finds beauty in the things he’s grown to loath and makes them magical. It’s as though the light she carries flows from her hands and into the room itself, turning the dark and shaded ruins into something wonderful. Strange and wonderful, like everything about her. He wonders if this is how Alice sees the world, remembers what it was like to see adventure and magic where others saw nothing. Perhaps he could see it this way again some day, or maybe it’s enough to surround himself with those who do. 

“Over here,” Alice calls and they both follow her to the far end of the structure. She’s trying to get a piece of cracked stone loose, the floor crumbling beneath them. 

“Here, let me,” he insists and kneels down to pry it free before she hurts herself. The rock lifts fairly easily, revealing soft, damp earth beneath it and Alice grins. 

“Right here,” she says, kneeling down beside him and beginning to dig. 

Swan finally sets down her burden and joins them on the ground, fingers sinking deep into the soil as she helps Alice dig. She looks at him, brow raised meaningfully and nodding at the ever growing hole. He shakes his head, laughing but complies, scooping mud and dirt and worms until it’s deep enough and she stands, picking up the bundle and setting it carefully inside. He’s never seen Alice so excited, and that’s saying something. 

“Will we remember where it is?” Swan asks as they pile dirt over it. “In seven years?”

“Should we mark it?” Killian asks, trying to remember if he grabbed his pocket knife or left it on the boat. “We could put something in the wood.”

“No, that’s too obvious,” Alice shakes her head. “Someone could find it!” 

Swan bites back a smile and turns to him. “Yeah, come on, Killian,” she sighs with a smirk. “Way too obvious.” He raises a brow at her, a disbelieving grin pulling at his lips. Is she teasing him? 

“I know,” his daughter says, standing. She walks out where the back door would have been, feet carefully placed one in front of the other until she reaches a giant oak tree that’s been on the grounds longer than Killian’s been alive. She turns to them. “Seventeen steps to the fairy tree.” 

“Brilliant,” he tells her and she looks very proud of herself. He doesn’t bother to question the fact that her feet will grow; he doubts she’ll remember this in seven years time. By then she’ll be too grown up, so for now he lets her believe in magic, hopes she continues to for as long as possible. 

“Thank you, Alice,” Swan says, taking her hand when the girl returns to them. 

“Now your selkie husband can’t make you go back!” 

“I have a husband?” she asks. 

“Of course. All selkies do. But now he can’t make you go back to the water for seven years. Not so long as your coat is hidden.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes is unparalleled and he hates to break this up, but a glance at his watch tells him they need to get going. Alice needs to be home when her mother returns, and he still needs to go to the fishery. 

“Time to get you home, love.”

“Dad, no,” she starts to whine and while it tugs at his heart that she wants to stay, he knows she can’t. 

“Come on, your mum will start to worry.” She won’t. He knows that. She probably won’t even notice Alice is late or gone - who knows where Eloise is anyway - but if she finds out that Alice was here, she’ll make them both suffer for it and he won’t have her keeping his daughter from him any more than she already does. 

“Do I still get to come this weekend?” she asks, stepping back as though she’ll refuse to leave unless he promises. 

“Aye,” he smiles. “For the whole weekend.” Only then does she begrudgingly agree to come with him. The three of them head back out to the cottage, Swan sitting on the front steps and saying goodbye to Alice, saying she hopes she’ll see her soon. 

“Will you still be here Saturday?”

Swan looks at him quickly before answering. He only gives her a hopeful smile. “Yes,” she promises and he has to duck his head to hide his pleased grin. 

“Okay,” Alice agrees and then heads towards his extended hand. She’s only about halfway there when she stops. She turns suddenly, rushing towards Swan and wrapping her arms around her neck in a fierce hug. 

The woman looks stunned for a second, thrown back by the force of the small girl crashing into her, but then she smiles, eyes almost watery as she squeezes her back. Alice whispers something in her ear that he can’t hear and he won’t ask about. Let them have their secrets. One more kind woman in his daughter’s life is not a gift he takes lightly. 

Alice hangs on to his hand for longer than normal on their walk home, regaling him with tales of selkies and what exactly it means to bury her seal coat. He raises an eyebrow at some of the things she tells him she’s read in the books she found at the library, really hoping she doesn’t actually understand some of the stories about women and male selkie lovers. 

“Why seven years?” he asks and she rolls her eyes. 

“Because those are the rules. If she buries her seal coat she can stay for seven years. But burying it just means she has to stay. She can stay if she wants to. Unless her husband decides he wants to take her back. That’s why we had to make sure it was hidden. If he finds it, he’ll take her away.” There’s a hint of heartbreak in her eyes. 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we hid it so well,” he says, squeezing her hand and her smile is back. 

“You know, Dad,” she says when they’ve been walking a little while. He looks down at her. “Sometimes selkies do stay on land forever. They say that selkies can often find happiness with a…” she frowns, certainly trying to remember whatever book she’s quoting. “A landsman! That’s it. Selkies can often find unexpected happiness with a landsman.”

“Is that so?” he asks, deliberately not acknowledging her meaningful look. 

“Do you think Swan will stay?” she presses.

“I don’t know, love. That’s her choice.” 

“I think she will. I think she likes it here. Maybe you can marry her and then she can stay forever.” 

Killian winces, not ready to get into why he can’t go marrying a woman with no memory who he’s only met three days ago. Especially when even now the thought makes him smile. “Alice…” he starts.

“Why not?” she asks, more to herself. “It makes sense. She’s already living with you, and she likes you.” 

“You think she likes me?” he asks before he can stop himself and regretting it the moment he says it. Alice gives him a sly grin. Killian clears his throat, making a point to sound less excited this time. “What makes you think she wants to stay?”

“She could have taken her seal coat and left.” 

He knows it’s not a seal coat. He knows she’s not obligated to stay for seven years because she hid it in his greenhouse. But he can’t help but hope when he thinks of the way she looked at him when she said they should bury it. It felt like a promise. Maybe not a promise, but the suggestion of one at least. 

“Besides,” Alice says, breaking him from his thoughts. “I’m not oblivious, you know. I’m seven. I know things.”

***

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[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (1/7)

Special thanks to @starlightandsunshine​ for helping me with this <3

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was born a vampire, one from the long-standing Kane family of vampires through his mother. This nature granted him a few abilities. He was more durable than a human and could heal faster. He was stronger and faster than a human and had better sight and hearing, though not to anywhere near the degree that some metas boasted. He could take on the form of an animal and could influence bats, corvids, canines, and felines to a certain extent. Finally, he would stop aging once he reached his thirties, a trait of those who were born or turned young instead of those like Alfred who were turned at an older age and therefore would always be that age.

However, when he set off on his path to becoming Batman, he swore to himself that he would not rely on any of this to fight the criminals that plagued Gotham. He would not be like those heroes past who relied on their powers, then were left defenseless when those abilities faltered or were ripped away. After all, only a vampire’s healing and longevity remained during the day and some spells and devices could similarly strip his nature away.

Batman stuck to his wits, tech, and martial arts training.

Even still, the criminals of Gotham could tell something was off about the Bat. Rumors flew about a demon haunting Gotham’s night, which Bruce leaned into. He hadn’t chosen a bat just because of the family significance. He wanted to strike fear. As such, he stuck to the shadows and allowed his fangs to bare. He used makeup to make himself appear paler and contortionist tricks to make his movements uncanny. He allowed Batman to become an urban legend that sent shivers down the spines of Gotham’s infamous.

When Barbara Gordon became Batgirl, she quickly realized his tricks were just that and leaned into them as well. She became a ghost following in the Bat’s footsteps. She disappeared into a mist made from special smoke pellets and spun across the ground and air in a weightless way that came from years of ballet and gymnastics training. She wore shadows like Batman’s, but violet and gold peeked through the darkness to make her stand apart.

Bruce initially didn’t want her in the field, but she eventually proved herself both competent and stubborn. In a bid to help protect her, he outfitted her with proper gear and let her in on the secret of his nature. She considered it, then a week later she asked him to turn her so she could always watch his back.

Then Dick Grayson was taken in by the billionaire and became the Bloody Robin. They called him a demon child, the son of the Bat who flew on bird’s wings. His cheerful laughs and giggles echoed and hissed eerily thanks to a voice filter. His clothes were bright colors, but were covered by the wing-like shadows that wrapped over his shoulders. Fake blood dripped from his hair and eyes and coated the tips of his gloves and cape. He chirped like a bird as he flipped and flew through the air. His mask made his eyes glow white and his body almost appeared boneless when he moved around on the ground thanks to the contortionist who’d babysat him at the circus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three heard the tales when teams of heroes began to form, but they didn’t reach out. Gotham’s Colony was a myth, an urban legend. Those outside of Gotham had never heard of them and those within only spoke in whispers.

That was how the Colony preferred it.

Besides, the rest of the world wasn’t as dark as Gotham.

Their tricks and games worked fine in the shadow-filled gothic architecture that made up Gotham, the near-perpetual overcast days, and the deep darkness of Gotham’s nights, but cities like Jump, Metropolis, or Central were far brighter. They could do without, they’d proven that plenty of times against the bigger villains that were either too crazy or brave to fear the Bat, but why should they? The tricks and games had become a part of them over the years and discarding a piece of themselves just so they could work outside of Gotham with strangers felt wrong.

So the Colony stuck to their own.

On the job, at least.

Dick met Wally West at a two-week-long Jr. Forensics Summer Camp when they were eleven and thirteen respectively. Bruce had sent him to brush up on his skills while Wally’s mentor, Barry Allen, thought it would be good training. Neither boy knew about each other's secret lives, but became close friends all the same and kept in contact when they returned home. Dick didn’t reveal it to Wally when he discovered the other boy was Kid Flash, but kept a close eye on Central City just in case.

A similar situation happened two years later when the Colony discovered Green Arrow’s latest protégé, a girl named Artemis Crock, lived in Gotham and had been helped into Gotham Academy by the other billionaire. Dick decided to keep an eye on her, but his pseudo-stalking quickly turned into a genuine friendship.

He may have taken a bit too much joy in introducing Wally and Artemis to one another. Wally got back at him a few years later by introducing him to the model Kory Anders, the secret identity of his celebrity crush Starfire. Dick had to admit to having a crush on Kory as well to explain his nerves.

It turned out to be a net gain in the end, though, since he came out of it with her phone number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As time passed, Dick started to get too old to be the demon child. He decided to create a new story for himself. One that would let him step out from under the shadow of the bat, using a name from an alien myth in Bruce’s files that he’d loved reading growing up. He and Bruce argued, and Dick spent some time sleeping on Barbara’s couch, but with nowhere to run they were forced to come to a compromise. There was still tension, but it was smoothed over with time and a bite.

Nightwing was a nocturnal bird that had taken human shape after being taken in by Batgirl’s elegance. It chased after and raced the ghost, nothing but shadows and a blue streak flying through the air. Those who got close enough to see his face would say that his skin was like porcelain while black wings covered his eyes completely and his lips were painted with darkness.

Nightwing wasn’t the only change to the Colony, though, because as Dick was finishing up his designs for the story, a little boy was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.

Dick was furious when the kid climbed out of the car into the cave, thinking Bruce had brought the kid in as a new Robin without even consulting him, but anger’s quickly replaced by confusion.

Because Batman wasn’t with the kid.

Jason Todd had gotten grabbed by the Bat after having already nicked three tires off the batmobile. Batman caught him before he could run then replaced the tires. He’d made a mistake in leaving the boy in the car when he went to call for someone to pick him up, however. Jason, who some might generously call impulsive, proceeded to use the opportunity presented to him to hotwire the vehicle and take it for a joyride that ended when he accidentally had the autopilot bring him to the cave. 

Dick was immediately taken with the small spitfire’s story, as well as his stubbornness and intellect. Meanwhile, Jason was amused by the fact that Gotham’s demon was, in his eyes, nothing more than a spectacular conman and wanted in. They teamed up to force Bruce to adopt the younger boy through underhanded -- and perhaps slightly illegal -- tactics.

As Dick started using his new story more and Robin less, Jason got his own turn under Batman’s cape.

People started to say Robin was more vicious. He’d climb walls, the claws on his feet and hands easily cutting into brick and metal. He’d give a fang-filled smirk as he hung from the ceiling like he’d forgotten he was a bird instead of a bat, only to drop down on unsuspecting shoulders. If he wasn’t clawing at opponents, he was beating them with his fists.

As one of his first acts as Robin, Jason saved a young boy who had been kidnapped for ransom. The kid had acted out of it during the rescue, but Jason put it down to trauma. He’d had no reason to realize the young detective-to-be had noticed the edge of Jason’s fake fangs through the shadows and fake blood. No one could have predicted the rabbit hole young Tim Drake had just fallen down nor that it would lead him to massive discoveries in the near future.

When Jason discovered Catherine Todd wasn’t his birth mother, he considered going alone to look for the mystery woman who’d given birth to him. He and Bruce had just had a fight about his temper that had left him benched and he wanted to prove himself, but something Dick had told him months before echoed in his mind.

“No matter how much we argue, we’re always going to be there for each other. Us birds and bats, we’re a family. We have to stick together.”

In the end, he asked Dick and Barbara for help. It was something he was thankful for when his mother sold him out to the Joker. At least he could hold out against the torment with the knowledge his true family would soon come for him.

When Batgirl and Nightwing arrived, Joker fled. Barbara got Jason out while Dick, after seeing the state of his brother, tracked down the clown. Bruce got to him just in time to stop him from beating Joker to death, but when he saw Jason’s condition he couldn’t bring himself to scold his elder son for his loss of control.

Jason was barely hanging on and Bruce, knowing there was no other choice, turned him.

The boy lived, but his injuries were too severe and he fell into a coma.

Three weeks later, Bruce and Dick came into Bruce’s study to find Tim Drake waiting for them. Both were a little more focused on “My parents are never home” than “so I’m in a perfect position to cover for Jason as Robin while he’s sleeping,” to Tim’s confusion, but he ended up in the suit all the same.

The whispers that had come after Joker’s latest incarceration had him crowing about clipping bird wings tapered off as Robin sightings flared up throughout the city. People saw him flying next to the Bat and they heard him tap-tap-tapping his claws. He tapped them against the walls as he hunted through warehouses and against the floors as he crouched in front of technology that seemed to unlock under his gaze thanks to the computer that’d been built into his gloves, the interface of which could only be seen through the lenses in the Colony’s masks and cowls.

Tim didn’t really know how to feel about being adopted by Bruce, aside from the guilt he knew was mixed in there somewhere. It felt wrong to be slipping into the family like that while Jason was right there and Dick had to talk him down when the anxiety attack eventually hit.

Tim was Tim. He wasn’t Jason and they didn’t want him to be Jason.

Dick understood though. He explained how Dick and Jason had both had similar feelings regarding Barbara and Dick respectively, though Dick could admit he’d gotten off easier all things considered. He told Tim that the Colony was a family, and adoption or not, Tim was a part of that now. Jason wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Tim.

When Jason woke, Dick had a similar conversation with him after Jay saw a news broadcast about Tim while waiting for the others to arrive. It soothed him some, and Tim soothed him more when he assured Jason he wasn’t taking Robin from him.

“There can’t be two Robins.”

“Why can’t there?”

As Jason went through physical training to get back in shape, the two worked together to develop a strategy for acting as Robin together. One part of this was Trillic.

Tim, with help from Dick and Jason, invented a secret language made up of chirps, whistles, and clicks. It started as a way for the Robins to communicate with each other without giving away there was more than one, but over time the rest of the Colony picked it up and the vocabulary expanded until it became the family’s own personal language that they’d use whenever they didn’t feel like using words.

A few days after Jason was released from the hospital, Dick found Jason down in the cave and grew worried his little brother was pushing himself too soon after his accident. Then he saw the young woman on the screen. She looked a year or two older than Jason with long red hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes.

They’d met in Ethiopia, Jason told him, while saving a woman from some men. Jason had wanted to try to track her down now that he was awake. He’d succeeded, but it turned out she was an Amazonian hero.

Combined with the fact her name was Artemis, Dick couldn’t help but laugh and make a joke about Jason following in his footsteps. Jason smacked him and told him she was really more of an anti-hero so it wasn’t the same as Dick making friends with Kid Flash and Tigress, but Dick ignored him.

Jason did end up contacting her, and even got her to take a visit to Gotham. Dick took the opportunity to introduce her to Wally and his own Artemis, who Wally began to refer to as Stripes to not get confused. When questioned, he claimed it was because of some outfit of hers that stuck in his mind. Dick and Jason, knowing it was actually based on her identity as Tigress, nodded along and picked up using the name, to her annoyance.

Surprisingly, the two women didn’t get along despite their similar attitudes. This led to them taking great offense whenever people couldn’t tell which Artemis was being talked about, something only Jason, Dick, and Alfred never managed to do.

While the teens were laughing over this, whispers were going around about how the Bloody Robin seemed to be everywhere. If you fled from a room you knew he was in, you’d find him standing right in front of you in the new room. There was no escape. And he trilled more than ever, though his voice almost seemed to echo back at him as if he was having a conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after the Justice League had formed, Barbara had hacked into their security system and planted a little bug she named Mockingbird. It was designed to alert her whenever someone mentioned the Colony’s civilian or vigilante identities and copy any footage during the time. More often than not all it gave her was Wally and Bow-Artemis (as most of the family thought of her, to contrast with Axe-Artemis) discussing Dick. Every so often though, there’d be someone pining after Dick or Bruce, which could be good for a laugh depending on who it was.

On a day not long after the Robins had been set loose together, Mockingbird gave her something that was sort of new, yet at the same time not.

The video started with Wally discussing some prank he and Dick had pulled on Bruce and slowly devolved into him just bragging about how awesome Dick was. Suddenly he froze, staring off into the air.

Artemis took one look at him and asked, “Did you finally realize you’ve got a crush on your best friend?”

He immediately went to reassure his girlfriend, but she said got it and even shared his feelings.

Barbara settled in to watch the show.

Unfortunately, it took longer than she’d anticipated for Dick to catch on that the two actually wanted to date him and not just spend more time with him. He was usually pretty good at picking up on people’s feelings, yet Artemis ended up having to pull him into her lap during a movie night and kiss him flat on the lips before it sunk in.

When Barbara approached him about it, he pouted over her spying. Then he admitted that he’d known for years they all had feelings for each other, he just hadn’t wanted to risk getting in the middle of the two’s relationship since they seemed so happy together. When he’d realized how they’d started flirting with him, he’d been worried they were just after a quick thing and he couldn’t do that to himself. So he’d put on his media mask of naive ditz Dickie who wouldn’t recognize flirting if it hit him in the face.

Thankfully the two had reassured him and after talking it through, the three settled happily into their throuple.

To congratulate his brother, Jason gave him a solid week before making jokes about Dick following in Bruce’s footsteps by dating someone with a feline-themed suit.

The next hurdle was deciding how to deal with the media. Dick was Richard “Dickie” Grayson, eldest son of Bruce Wayne. The media loved to go on about him. Pretty much every second of his relationship with Kory had been recorded by the press. Neither of them had minded. He was still a performer at heart, always would be, and she was a warrior princess who had been in the spotlight all her life.

But Dick knew Wally and Artemis weren’t Kory so he talked to them about how they wanted to handle things.

In the end, they agreed only friends and family would know about Artemis, but Wally and Dick would go public. They all had practice keeping much bigger secrets so it wasn’t hard on Artemis to hide their relationship. Meanwhile, Wally didn’t mind playing around for the cameras. Plus, he knew how people treated Dick when they thought he was single and a small possessive part of him didn’t want them trying anything, even if he knew Dick would never cheat.

Things didn’t actually turn out too bad. Of course, there were always the conservatives that came around when Dick got a boyfriend, but they never stuck around long. Bruce had made his support of Dick’s sexuality very clear from the beginning and no one wanted to risk really ticking someone as rich and connected as him off by attacking his son like that.

The real problem came when their agreement to tell their families accidentally didn’t reach everyone.

Dick had been alone at the manor when it happened.

Bruce had gone on a weekend business trip, bringing Tim with him. Alfred was on a trip to England. Jason had taken the opportunity to spend the weekend hopefully not blowing things up with Artemis Grace, who had ended up getting a small flat in Gotham to act as her home base so she could visit with Jason and Dick during the rare occasions she wasn’t running across the world causing trouble with the Outlaws. Dick had been planning to spend the weekend with his partners at Stripe’s apartment, but they’d both been caught up by something (Dick assumed a mission had unexpectedly run long) so he had the night to himself.

He was watching a movie in the theater room when he felt a shift in the air. He immediately dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the sai that had been coming for his throat. Then he was over the back of the couch and engaging the assassin. He quickly realized she was with the League of Assassins as he recognized moves Bruce had picked up from them. She was good, too, but she had clearly come to the fight unprepared to face a Gotham myth. He didn’t take too many hits before pinning her and binding her hands and feet with the obijime from her dress. He then disarmed her of all her hidden weapons just in case.

When he questioned her, she declared that she was Artemis’s sister and had come to avenge her honor after Wally had betrayed her for Dick. She was not going to sit back and let the fool cheat on or dump her sister for the likes of a man she had believed was nothing more than an airheaded socialite.

Then, with narrowed eyes, she added that she had clearly been mistaken as not many airheaded socialites had been trained by assassins. Nor did they use moves only known by those trained by Ra’s al Ghul.

Dick ignored that and explained the trio’s situation as he untied her, having recognized her as Cheshire aka Jade Nguyen aka his girlfriend’s -- apparently protective -- assassin sister.

He took pride in the fact that he was dating someone who was only related to criminals instead of actually dating a criminal, unlike a certain father of his.

She thankfully believed him, though she did warn that should he be lying or should he hurt Artemis, she wouldn’t underestimate him a second time. She made a few more thinly veiled digs at his assassin-based fighting style as he showed her out that he cleanly sidestepped with comments about self-defense training. They both knew she didn’t believe a word of it, but she left it alone as she slipped away into the night.

So long as her sister remained unharmed, she had no desire to get involved in whatever was going on between the Wayne’s and al Ghul’s.

Before she left Gotham, though, she met Artemis and Wally on their way in and informed her sister that she approved of her new boyfriend. Both to be sure Dick was telling the truth and to mess with the speedster. The two predictably freaked out and she used their panic to slip away.

Dick answered Artemis’s call with, “Oh hey, Stripes! Your sister came by earlier to give me the shovel talk over tea. It was pretty gory, but I think the one Jason gave Wally was still probably worse so I’m not going to complain. Are we still on for tomorrow?” to their relief.

Artemis had not wanted to try to explain her assassin sister to her civilian boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to use Stephanie's Batgirl suit for Babs because most of Babs' suits are either bright or look just like Batman's. Steph will get other suits of hers when she appears.

The Robin suit looks just like Dick's from The Batman (2004), just bloodier.

Nightwing's suit looks like the typical V one, just with the eyes of the mask being blacked out. Also, black lipstick because yes.

Vampires’ animal forms:

Bruce: Gray bat

Alfred: Common raven

Selina: Oriental shorthair cat

Barbara: Little red flying fox

Dick: Black-billed magpie

Jason: Malayan flying fox

[infpisme]

4 Reasons INFPs Are So Restless

We see the world for what it “should be,” and this makes it incredibly challenging to remain static in life.

Some say I have the attention span of a goldfish. On the one hand, I can absolutely see where they are coming from. I can be mid-conversation, and if I am not entirely focused on the interaction at hand, then I drift away quickly. However, I would argue that this is a representation of my restlessness as an INFP — one of the rarer Myers-Briggs personality types — rather than a short attention span. 

It isn’t that I get distracted per se, but instead I lose interest and drift away into the beautiful world of my mind, where even the most mundane of life experiences can be transformed into a glorious story of good and evil, of love and loss — a tale of blockbuster credibility. In general, INFPs are incredibly self-aware, curious, and have a rich inner world. 

To the outside world, the combination of those three traits may sometimes come off as restlessness (though we’re not the only Myers-Briggs personalities whose minds often wander). If you’ve ever wondered if you should try to curb your restless behavior, though, I would like to remind you that it adds a certain mystery and lure to life.

There are solid reasons INFPs get restless, and they speak to the magic that makes us the most idealistic personality type. Here are four reasons you may find yourself restless, and why you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it.  

4 Reasons INFPs Get Restless

1. We are dreamers.

At our core, we are dreamers and idealists. We see the world for what it “should be,” and this makes it incredibly challenging to remain static in life.

On the one hand, this rose-colored lens instills an air of excitement and wonder that encourages us to move on and chase beauty whenever we come across it. But if we lose sight of that luster, no matter where we currently are in life, it is incredibly difficult to remain focused. Either way, both of these mentalities leave an eagerness to see more, do more, and feel more.

Regardless of the root cause (boredom with the present or excitement about the future), the result is the same: INFPs want to pack up and move on to the next great adventure. Not only is this normal, but it is a good thing for our development.

This fascination with all the things that should and could be has propelled me into some of the most trying times in my life, but it also has spurred an immense amount of growth and personal development. For example, after finishing my undergrad, my two best friends and I loaded into my truck and hit the road.

We had not much more than a rough map of where we sought to go, but embarked on a five-week journey across North America. None of us had the funds to pull it off, so we brought a tent, and found free camping along the way. From frigid nights in Telluride, CO, to the scorching sun of Moab, UT, we saw, did, and felt so much throughout our travels. Had it not been for my restless nature, I would never have embarked on such a journey.

So keep chasing those rainbows, INFP.

2. We despise conflict.

Another reason we may wrap up parts of life in a nice little box and move on is our tendency to mitigate conflict. I don’t want to say “avoid,” since that has a negative connotation, but many INFPs (myself included) really do try to avoid conflict.

What I mean is we often sense impending doom, and skip town before the situation gets to that point. INFPs have high levels of intuition and perception, meaning we can sense others’ emotions and know when conflict is brewing. As highly sensitive people, we would rather have a somber memory of what once was — a feeling of melancholy — than risk watching a relationship or situation crumble. 

This conflict avoidance can be seen in a number of realms — workplaces, friendships, or romantic relationships — but the result is often the same. We will eventually find a reason to justify moving on, so we can weave the impending conflict into a grand story, rather than simply address it head on.

3. We prefer our lives to be highlight reels.

As idealists, life feels as though it is some grand story woven together with beautiful intricacy. The lows are gut-wrenching moments in a heartbreaking tale, and the highs are marks of victory and revelation. Because of this lens through which we view life, we have little patience for mundane activities. We have a bigger and better story to write, so we must move on to the next adventure.

For example, I often reflect on crossroads and the decisions I’ve made there. When looking back with 20/20 hindsight, it’s become clear to me that, more often than not, I follow the path that will give me a blockbuster movie. This is ultimately what led me to quit my engineering job to pursue starting my own company. I was only eight months into the job, but it seemed like the natural progression of the “story of Cole,” which made the decision to change career paths so appealing. I had no solid plan for making money, and was relying on my gut being correct. But what sold me was there was so much more learning to come from having no safety net and forging my own future.

INFPs feel the need to grow constantly, and throwing in the occasional plot twist is often the perfect way to do so. But these plot twists are often perceived as restlessness.

4. We need to understand ourselves better.

The central theme of the INFP story is that of self-discovery. One of my main driving factors in life is to understand myself and find my place in the larger picture of the world. Because of this, I often take a step back from my current situation to digest a number of things:

*First, I am checking in to evaluate what I’ve learned recently. By pausing life, this moment of reflection gives me clarity about myself. 

*Second, I am generally looking to what could be next. How can I capture new experiences, push myself further, and understand myself better?

These two factors often create a feedback loop with one another, which further enhances the quality of restlessness. Since INFPs are continually on the search for true understanding, this lends to a whimsical — and sometimes restless — approach to life.

INFPs are naturally wired to possess an air of restlessness. Between the idealistic, rose-colored lens through which we view life, our hatred of conflict, and our deep-rooted need to truly understand ourselves, it may feel as if we are always on the move and ready for something new.

When You Feel Too Restless

However, you may be asking yourself, how restless is too restless? If you feel this way, I want you to keep these things in mind:

*When you feel the stirrings of a new adventure calling your name, sit on it for at least a few days. We often feel differently about ideas throughout various parts of the day, and setting a deliberation period can give you more clarity to pursue only the adventures that are best for you.

*It’s okay to remain static in life for a while, especially when there are external pressures that need to be met. To rekindle the joyous and idealistic nature of your INFP self, take to hobbies during these times. Pick up a guitar or grab a pen and paper. Channel your creative juices and live out your adventures in your head, just for now.

*Finally, don’t feel so bad about being “restless.” Sure, it may be irresponsible from time to time, but the adventurous nature of INFPs truly makes life beautiful and inspiring, both for yourself and others.

These tendencies lend to a beautiful outlook on life, but it is important to always remember to take time and smell the roses. If you wrestle with wondering whether you should dial back your INFP quirkiness, then remember this quote from T.S. Eliot: “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

by Cole Powers, IntrovertDear

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 73 Rundown

Code Geass: Lelouch and co. are still stuck in China and Xingke’s flipping out because the Chinese assholes are gonna kill the Empress and go with someone less problematic for their political marriage to Britannia’s creepily overaged prince. However Lelouch pulls out a Knightmare that’s basically the Twink version of the Gawain and busts everyone up as well as pulling a Father Cornello on them and letting the people know they’re all elitst 1% assholes that don’t care about them, which I suspect all countries probably know about their leaders but it sucks to hear it in a recording so riots show up all over China and CC Geass Flashes Anya to take her out so Britannia has to back out because the Chinese Hierarchy are now the least popular people in the world. So Xingke gets to be with his Empress and joins the Black Knights but Dietard wants the Empress to marry someone on their side so they can basically do the asshole move Britannia just tried to do but for them. All the girls are like ��hey no’ and Lelouch is like “Oh hey Tamaki buddy, let’s go talk and get me the fuck out of here” so before Lelouch actually has to give Tamaki more lines and elevate him beyond the Black Knight’s Yamacha Shirley calls and Lelouch just straight up asks Shirley about love in a weirdly forced series of circumstance. But Shirley’s like “Yeah don’t fuck with love, don’t you love anyone?” and Lelouch is like “Yeah I do, Nunally!” and I don’t think that’s at all what Shirley meant but it does mean Lelouch sees that fighting for something beyond politics is powerful and agrees to not marry off the twelve year old girl, so that’s good. Lelouch decides to return home while they hunt down the Geass cult which is in China for some reason despite that being one of the like two places on earth Britannia doesn’t control and the Geass Cult largely being a Britannian affair. Meanwhile Sayoko is basically a Lelouch Vtuber at this point with her insanely accurate Lupin III mask of Lelouch and kisses Shirley so Shirley’s a little bit more gay than she was before and is not sure how to feel about that. When she’s about to tell the real Lelouch he kisses like a girl, Anya and Gino show up because we’re retreading the whole ‘sleeping with the enemy at school’ thing from the first season except with way less interesting enemies. Also the preview for the next episode is Lelouch dramatically talking about enemies finding out he’s Zero overtop footage of Shirley and Milly absolutely naked in a batthouse scene so I think we know what kind of episode that’ll be.

Inuyasha: The Panther Demon filler concludes with everyone meeting at the site where the Panther Master is being revived behind a strong barrier, if only someone just got a barrier upgrade to their sword, oh wait. But yeah everyone manages to free the hostages so even though Kagome’s jewel shards revives the Panther Master he’s still a zombie without a sacrifice which is weird since Naraku managed to completely revive the Band of Seven with one jewel shard each from skeletons and the Panther Lord has three shards so idk the rules here but yeah he steals the souls of his own men to revive and is Wind Scar Proof because he just is. It’s pretty cool to see him shooting his claws and lightning and shit but he’s too big and slow for it to be much of an interesting fight. Sesshomaru’s about to go full demon which would be interesting since we haven’t seen his full demon form since he lost his arm but in a neat bit of character development, Tenseiga calms his rage and tells him to use it instead. You get the feeling Sesshomaru only goes full demon when he flies off the handle and forgets about speed and strategy so him opting to not repeat the mistake he made against Inuyasha is pretty cool. Anyway Tenseiga heals the souls of the Panther Demons and drains their energy from the lord so he’s back to Zombie Cat Man which Inuyasha can Wind Scar because that’s what happens to villains on this show, all Wind Scars all the time. The Panthers don’t wanna fight anymore since their boss just killed them and tell Inuyasha to tell Sesshomaru the feud is over and they’re going back to the West. Honestly this is basically the same backstory they gave Kirinmaru in Yashahime so it’s funny for them to say they’re going back to the same place Kirinmaru is from, wonder if it’ll ever come up in Yashahime since most filler seems canon there.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke and Kuwabara continue the assault on Tarukane’s compound and basically plow through the lower demons easy since they’ve been fighting minor deities up to this point. It’s always pretty cool in Shonen to just have a few rounds to show how much power creep the heroes have had where certain things just don’t bother them anymore. Toguro murders a Chimera which has an oddly similar backstory to Nina from FMA and he seems really bummed about it but he’s like “Hey we’re both monsters made by humans telling us to do shit, so sorry for killing you bro”. And Tarukane basically sees Toguro is the next boss and is like “Yup time to scam some people off of this” and he sets up a betting ring for how far Yusuke and Co will get into his compound. This is kinda neat because it puts Tarukane in the weird position of betting against his own guards and hoping Yusuke will make it all the way to Toguro and then lose after everyone else has seen how awesome Yusuke is and bets on him. And funnily enough Sakyo’s in on the betting and he’s watched anime before so he knows to bet on the plucky teenagers with weird powers. So yeah Yusuke and Kuwabara finish plowing through the demons while Hiei kinda stalks them and remembers getting his eye surgery and wanting to help his sister but it’s kind of against spirit world rules for demons to just go plow through humans even if they’re scumbag humans so now Yusuke and Kuwabara have to go fight the Triad of boss demons Toguro has under him before Hiei busts in and just murders everyone for kidnapping his bird-loving jewel-crying little flower of a sister.

Fate Zero: So Kiritsugu can break Kayneth’s Terminator 2 Gaara defenses with rib bullets that just say ‘no’ to using magic and fucks his arrogant ass up. Saber and Lancer do some combo shenanigans to stab Caster right in the book and disrupt all his hentai tentacle demons but the book heals so idk why he can’t just make more. Kirei fucks up Maiya and Iris but didn’t double tap Maiya and DID double tap iris but she’s got Saber’s bullshit healing scabbard on her which no one knows about so Saber’s like “uhhh why are you healing” and Iris can’t tell her so she’s basically “Uhh internet?” Lancer comes in to save Kayneth’s worthless ass and tells Kiritsugu to stop being a dick to Saber because she’s pretty dope. But as usual for an early Fate encounter, no one dies and nothing of terrible consequence happens despite it being teased a couple times. I’ve noticed a trend with Fate that it really doesn’t like killing characters early so you’re basically guaranteed to have the first 2-3 major battles have a zero net gain/loss. Rider in UBW was probably the subversion to that since it happened crazy fast and anticlimactic but even that wasn’t till like ten episodes in.

Konosuba: So we finally meet Wiz the big booby Lich and Kazuma learns a new skill, both fun things. Also the gang gets a house to stay in after escapades with an army of haunted dolls and the most “I need to pee” in a horror setting since Corpse Party. But yeah, good progress this time honestly, the living in a stable gag was getting kind of old so Kazuma’s a bit stronger now and they have a home base so that’s pretty cool. Also Wiz is a Demon General or some shit but no one cares cause there ain’t no money in murdering busty zombie waifus.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So turns out Minako is Princess Serenity, except everyone who knows anything about Sailor Moon or indeed plot structure knows Sailor Moon is Princess Serenity, that’s like the Luke I Am Your Father of this series. But still turns out Minako has been guiding everyone with the power of video games but also thinks the power of friendship sucks and she’s gotta go do everything alone. This makes things super awkward because Mamoru’s pretty sure he was in love with the Princess but likes Usagi, now instead of running with this interesting thread of a reincarnation falling in love with someone new we’re gonna do the reveal that Usagi’s the princess and the whole ‘till death do us part’ part of marriage was just a metaphor and you’re stuck with one person no matter how many times you reincarnate. But yeah, Minako fights the bad guy on top of the tower but he has Naraku’s Barrier now and Minako doesn’t have the Red Tessaiga upgrade yet so she needs the power of friendship but this barrier is friendship-proof and this fight is basically a bunch of kids on the playground making up increasingly stupid powers that negate the other powers the other guy just made up. Anyway Tuxedo Mask shows up and is like “Holy shit Sailor Moon I love when you kiss me and kick ass, go get em sweetie I’ll hold your flower” and they kiss and Usagi has learned that if she just pretends she got this the power of her confidence will beat the bad guy. Unfortunately she does not got this and Tuxedo Mask has to pull a Piccolo and throw himself in front of the blast.

Durarara!!:  So now that we’ve had our climax for the arc we have a six month timeskip and everyone’s just kinda living life, Mika and Seiji are being clinically insane together, there’s cops harassing Celty to the point of mental breakdown (normal cop stuff) Shinra’s dad’s in town, Namie’s become Izaya’s secretary for blackmail shit, you know, normal stuff. Also there’s a katana-wielding maniac going around slashing people and Anri’s being bullied and sexually harassed to the point of mental collapse, normal stuff.

[noctisfishing]

Takari Week Day 5: Tai [Taichi] and Matt [Yamato] Step In

Noct Writes Takari Week 2020: [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ]

@takariweek for more content; @noctisfishing for Takari Week prompts and more.

Prompt Notes: I’m posting this one an hour after my planned schedule because I had second thoughts about my original prompt fill which I thought was pretty silly in my imagination, but I didn’t think it was my best.

This one I thought came out a little better. It seems longer than the ones I’ve written so far but it still has the touch of humor and softness that I intended to put in the first place. 

ALSO this is part 1 of this story; part 2 will show up tomorrow in Day 6. :)

This is set in the Digimon Adventure tri. timeline.

I’ll post the “deleted scene” a little bit after this one gets posted.

“Leave me alone.”

Those were the last words that Hikari uttered to Takeru before turning into her apartment complex and shutting the door of the front gate in his face.

“Hikari, please!” Takeru shouted. “Can’t we just talk this out?”

There was no response from her - only her heavy footsteps stomping further down the hall. 

Takeru was at a loss of what to do. After months of being a couple, and even years of knowing her, he learned to recognize those times that she faced her own problems she didn't want to talk about and needed space. But she hadn’t been this moody for this long.

Seeking advice from Miyako was his initial route, but turned out to be the worst. It had been obvious that Hikari had confided in Miyako about her troubles, and combined with her direct nature, Takeru wondered what got her so irritated.

Why Takeru even mentioned it to Daisuke was beyond him. He ended up spending the whole lunch hour at the cafeteria with Daisuke and Ken, listening to Daisuke chat about more than what he wanted to hear - surprisingly, nothing about making moves on Hikari - only to receive the minimal but agreeable piece of advice: “Girls are confusing, dude.”

“What else should I do?” Takeru asked.

“Just wait it out, I guess. If worse comes to worse, though, think I could ask her out?”

And there it was.

Had he been smarter about it, Takeru would have gone to Iori first and not last. Even though Iori tended to keep his distance from everyone else’s drama, Takeru admired him for withstanding Miyako’s daily rambles about everything, even when it came to him and Hikari.

“It is midterm week, you know,” Iori said. “People are bound to handle stress in different ways. Miyako certainly is, and you might be, too. Maybe you should give yourself and Hikari some space and approach her when midterms are over.”

Takeru left Iori’s apartment complex with his head hanging low. He lifted his hand toward his head and realized he wasn’t wearing his lucky hat. He began his walk home with his head hanging lower, remembering that Hikari had taken that hat from him to tease him, saying that she thought it looked better on her.

It really did.

He paused in his walk as he stopped at the front gate to the Yagami apartment complex. Staring at the call box, he realized that all of his friends came into the agreement in letting her be. Iori’s sound advice weighed the heaviest in his mind, and it caused Takeru to stare at the sidewalk and turn his foot to continue his way home.

Except the sidewalk was blocked in front of him. His first sight was a soccer ball hanging inside of a net, along with two pairs of feet and matching trousers of a school uniform.

“Taichi? Yamato?” Takeru said when he looked up. “What are you up to?”

“About to save your butt,” Taichi replied. Before Takeru knew it, Taichi had gone behind him and grabbed his shoulder to push in the direction opposite from home.

“H-Hey! Where are we going?”

“Hikari’s been moodier than usual and I hate seeing her that way. We’re going to help you to get her to cheer up.”

“But how can I do that if she won’t even talk to me?”

“Takeru, think about it,” added Yamato who pushed Takeru’s other shoulder. “You have a way with words and talking doesn’t seem to work. So how else can you get to her?”

After turning a few corners and walking down the street, a familiar shop came into view. It was the only shop that stood out with the vibrant display of various colors outside of it.

The three of them stopped in front of the flower shop, with Sora turning around from the inside to wave, and Takeru realized in an instant.

“You find a way to her heart,” he said, knowing exactly what to do next.

[ebullientbun]

Don’t Be  A Deuce Bag

Starring: tennis!Jin x Reader Genre: mildest angst if any, fluff, friends-to-lovers!au Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: someone gets hit in the balls, slight swearing, lots of tennis jargon A/N: this is originally for the Sports!AU August prompt by @btsboulangerie, but I had a feeling that I won’t be able to finish it in time yeet

Summary: You and Jin are doubles partners, though you dream of being more than that. But doubles partners communicate, and Jin has been giving you the silent treatment. You need to get to the bottom of it. 

The general public would always see tennis as some sort of elite sport, a hobby that rich people enjoy  in their free time if they weren’t on a golf course. But they never consider the level of strategy, technique, and effort that goes into playing a match in competitive tennis, thinking that it’s just for players needlessly grunting as they hit the ball or dramatically falling into a split running towards a fast ball. But you found it to be more than that.

You found a home with the people with you on the tennis court. You’ve made your first friends in high school with these people, driving to and fro from away matches to all day tournaments. You’ve spent countless hours at dawn or late at night practicing drills with each other. 

And you’ve discovered your love to be on the court. You first joined the team not expecting much, already knowing that you’ll be accepted onto the team since they were in constant need of female members, but you genuinely created a unique bond with each and every single one of them. 

Not too long after your singles match, you plop down on the bleachers next to your best friend, Sooyoung. Snatching your fourth fruit snack packet from your tennis bag, you begin fueling yourself with sugar as you watch the other ongoing matches. You brighten, nudging Sooyoung on the shoulder. “Oh my god, look at Taehyung over there, third court”. 

She turns, squealing excitedly. “He’s wearing a headband! Ugh, he’s so hot.” She leans forward to read the scoreboard, squinting. “He’s losing against Jimin, though.”

You hum. “Somehow, being frustrated is low-key making him hotter.” You watch as he wipes his forehead with a towel before tossing it on the bench; you sigh longingly. “I’d let him eat my ass like a cupcake anytime.” Sooyoung giggles at your comment, playfully shoving you in embarrassment. 

“Can you not talk about our opponent like that? You’re rooting for the wrong team,” a voice sounds from behind you. 

Kim Seokjin. Your doubles partner since you’ve joined the team and made you fall in love with the game. Instead of going through the motions, you felt a combination of excitement and anxiety during every match with him because he’s made it something to build yourself for.

You whip your head around, glaring at doubles partner. “Mind your own business, Jin. It’s legal to thirst.”

He rolls his eyes, before paying his attention back to the match on the first court. 

Your relationship with Seokjin was nothing short of incessant bickering. You first got to know each other when you were filling up the team’s water jug as a newbie, and upon struggling to hold it up as it got heavier, he had come to the rescue to help out. Your coach saw the both of you as an opportunity for a mixed doubles team, since none of the other members wanted to be part of it and you both were getting along well.  You both gave it a shot - having a position from the coach is better than being benched.

He easily gets on your nerves. He’s a gentleman, yet has a hankering of complaining. When you aim a ball too far and it lands out, suddenly he’s a know it all and tries to correct you for it. But when he makes a mistake, suddenly it’s the wind’s fault! You have to admit, he did help you with your form when you struggled with your backhand stroke back then.

All of that is tolerable when you consider the amount of synergy the both of you have on the court together. While you’re known for dominating at the net, Seokjin was known for keeping long rallies at the baseline. Was he garbage at the net? Sure. But you’ve been mixed doubles partners for the past couple years and have figured out a routine that worked. Playing with a different partner never interested you when you both knew each other’s playing styles so well. 

That, and you had a small crush on him. Only a teeny one.

You offer him one of your fruit snacks, and he happily plucks one from the pouch. “Which court are we playing on soon?”

Seokjin nods towards the other section of courts, “Court 7, after Jeon’s finished playing.”

“We have a good advantage then, he’ll be too tired after the singles match to have enough energy for our match right after,” you comment. 

Seokjin scoffs, “As if. He’s a powerhouse; he’ll just chug a Gatorade and go back at it again.” 

“Who’s his partner again?”

“Yerim, I think.”

You groan. “No way, I hate that bitch! I just played her in singles and she slices every other ball.”

Seokjin hums pensively, “At least we have that advantage of how she plays.”

You nod, crumpling up your now empty fruit snack pouch and tossing it into the trash can. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

.             

Things were not fine. 

As Seokjin predicted, Jungkook was a monster and did not resist holding back slamming the ball towards you every time. It’s a dirty tactic to aim solely for the female opponent, but luckily for you and your partner, you were more fearless to his fastballs. 

What you did not expect was cheating. 

Your match is on the third set, both sides tiring out with a close score. Seokjin and you are in the lead 4-3. Currently, Jungkook is serving to Seokjin, while you are positioned near the net. Seokjin had been rallying cross-court with Jungkook for a while, but the angles were too wide for either of you or Yerim to poach from the net. With quick strategy, Seokjin abruptly rallies the ball straight, into a wide open area that Yerim, expecting another diagonal rally, fails to block. You figure it’s a clean win on the point, but Yerim holds up her pointer finger in the air.

“Out.”

...What?

Both you and Seokjin freeze. Mid high five too. You snap your head towards her. 

“...That was in the line.” You walk closer to her at the net. 

“No,” she argues, “it was close but it landed outside the double lines.” She crosses her arms and walks over to the area near where the ball landed and points with her racket at a spot out of bounds.

Oh, hell no. She didn’t even see where the ball landed, she isn’t even facing towards it. 

You gape in disbelief, turning towards Jungkook. “Are you sure?” 

Jungkook bites his lip, looking from you and Seokjin to his partner, before replying, “Yes.”

The audacity. You could feel the steam coming out of your ears. You are this close to childishly throwing a tantrum and asking for a referee, but you stop upon feeling a firm grasp on your shoulder.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Seokjin mutters, glaring at them for good measure. “We are not going to stoop to their level if this is how they want to play.”

“This is the third time she’s called one of our ‘in’ balls ‘out’, and we’re just gonna sit here and let that happen? Your ball was obviously within the line,” you hiss. You want to smack that snooty look off her face.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, frustrated as well - most of the balls Yerim called were his. “Play fair and stay calm. We don’t want to make rash mistakes and slam the next few points into the net.”

You take in a deep inhale, before huffing. Offering your doubles partner a stiff high five, you get back into position for the next point.

Jungkook serves the ball to you, noticing how you rally back but don’t approach the net immediately as you usually would. He subtly starts closing towards the net, but you internally smirk - he was going to drop a short ball on your side. 

As expected, he slices the next rally directly down the middle of the court, Seokjin frantically trying to poach the ball but missing. But you’re ready.

“Mine!” You rush towards the net, and with all of the pent up anger inside of you, you slam a forehand ball straight at Jeon Jungkook’s crotch. 

Without enough time to react, Jungkook fails to block the fast ball and crumples to the ground. “Oh fuck!”

Yerim gasps, running to him and hollering for a time out. Jungkook, in all of his beautiful and wincing glory, lays in a fetal position in the middle of the court.

You turn your body away from them so they don’t see, but more importantly so Seokjin can see you. “For you, Jin,” you wink at him with a smug smile on your face. 

Seokjin, who had mild concern for the poor boy, stares at you in bewilderment. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Then, he bursts into a chuckle and offers you a low fist bump. “That's my girl.” 

If you had known any better, you would think that his eyes were twinkling in the slightest bit. Your heart, in addition to the adrenaline, flip flops excitedly at the endearment. 

.

In the end, you both still lost.

It wasn’t too surprising, but you both still had hope that by hurting Jungkook to his friend downstairs, you would have an advantage by winning only two more games. But, no. It appears that it just fueled the rage monster that unleashed within Jeon Jungkook and you lost three games in a row. Nonetheless, you and Seokjin took it in stride, already accepting upon walking onto the court that a loss wouldn’t be too bad as long as both of you did your best. Seokjin seemed just fine when you both walked off the court after the match to report to your coach. 

.

However, now, Seokjin is a brat to you. 

It’s a regular practice day, and instead of doing warm up laps around the courts with you like he normally does, he elects to chat next to Irene instead. 

Ok, sure. Whatever. Not like you were obligated to warm up together, you suppose. You slow the pace of your lunges until Sooyoung catches up with you, falling into pace with her. 

Sooyoung, despite heaving from trying to pick up the pace with the rest of the team, cocks her head in your direction. “Oh? Why aren’t you with Seokjin?”

You shrug, sparing a glance in his direction before sighing. “I don’t know, maybe he had something to talk about with Irene.”

Sooyoung frowns, nudging you on the shoulder with her elbow. “Then don’t pout, it’s probably nothing.”

You’re about to respond when your coach blows his whistle, indicating to everyone to warm up with a partner for half court rallies. You turn and begin to walk towards Seokjin, but you pause once you see him completely ignore you and beeline straight for your team captain, Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok’s eyes widen in surprise when Seokjin approaches him, nodding carefully while briefly holding eye contact with you as Seokjin speaks with him.

“Uh,” You turn back around, grabbing Sooyoung by the wrist, “can you practice with me today?”

Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows, frowning further upon seeing your doubles partner head towards a court with Hoseok to practice. “Sure.”

As if that wasn’t weird enough, he was in a mood during the practice games as well. He didn’t even acknowledge you when you sought him out, only following you on the court as you played against your teammates. You tsk when he brushes past you to place his water bottle on the benches. 

If he wasn’t going to talk to you, you’re just going to act like nothing is happening. 

But that was becoming increasingly difficult. He wouldn’t talk strategy with you, much less offer you a high five between points, and it was messing up your flow in the game. You missed more of your serves than usual, even your second serves. Seokjin would look increasingly annoyed whenever you miss a ball, and you’re already hanging on a tight leash. 

Seokjin is getting ready to serve for the next game, and he calls your name before passing you an extra ball to hold. You try to decline, but he’s already thrown it your way. 

“Jin, can you just roll this ball to the corner?”

“Just keep it in your pockets like earlier?”

“In my pock- I don’t have pockets, Jin!” You yell back, throwing the ball back at him. “Female uniforms don’t have pockets.”

Seokjin squinted. “If you don’t have pockets, how are you holding the extra ball?”

You scoff, “We are not as blessed to have long pockets like you guys, so we stick it in our underwear!” You gleam upon seeing his face go from irritable to mortified. “That’s right, the tennis balls you’re touching? Probably has female sweat from being lodged between our hip and our underwear all the time. But guess what!” You don’t even give him time to respond. “I forgot to wear decent underwear, and unfortunately, a g-string does not hold the ball in place, so I’m having a bit of a hard time running around with a ball sliding down my shorts!”

Your teammate across the court clears his throat. “Uh… can we continue the game?” 

You hold a finger in the air, “Yeah, one sec.” You turn back to Seokjin, feeling more angry as you look at him. “And if we did have pockets, they wouldn’t even hold the ball properly. So don’t you dare complain to me about not wanting to hold the extra ball for you while you serve, you privileged asshole! I don’t know why you’re cranky today, but either talk to me about it or don’t take it out on me!”

You huff, turning back around and standing in position at the net, swallowing in awkwardness at your argument with your doubles partner. Regardless, your other teammates also slowly get back into position and the game continues with a tense atmosphere.

.

You catch Hoseok at the end of practice trying to lock the courts while juggling the box of tennis balls in his other arm. “Hey, Cap! Let me help.” You jog up to him, grabbing the box from him as he finishes locking up.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Thanks. I could’ve set it down but for some reason I was making it harder on myself.”

“All good, see you tomorrow at practice!” You hand him back the box and prepare to head for the girls’ locker room when you feel a tug on your shoulder.

“Actually,” Hoseok starts, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Seokjin.”

You bristle, “And what about him?”

Hoseok looks at you pointedly, “don’t give me that look. You know as my duty as team captain I have to keep you all in check, but I’ve been getting a couple of comments from some teammates that you’ve both been fighting a lot lately.” You want to interrupt but Hoseok stops you with a glare. “I know it’s none of my business to enter into people’s affairs, but this is making some of the members uncomfortable, hell, I’m uncomfortable because I don’t like practicing with Jin. That lobbying bastard.”

You chuckle, knowing how much people aren’t used to rallying with him like you’ve been for the past few years. 

Hoseok smiles, “Just talk it out with him. Please. You can probably catch him since he’s just gone to the locker room. I don’t want to have to seek you out again, but I will if I have to.”

You jokingly salute at him, making your way to the locker room again. This time in a bit of a hurry. “Aye aye, captain.”

.

You pace quickly up the stairs to the locker room, hoping that Seokjin hadn’t gone home already. Just as you reach the top, you catch him leaving the boys’ locker room at the end of the hall. “Jin! Wait up!” You perk up once he stops in his tracks, jogging faster towards him. “Hey,” you pant slightly, “can we talk?”

Seokjin quirks his mouth to the side, thinking pensively for a moment before nodding. 

You fall into step with Seokjin, trailing beside him as the both of you walk towards the exit. It was silent for the first few minutes, but those minutes were killing you. “Okay, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, why were you ignoring me today?”

Seokjin scoffs, unsurprised by your frankness. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not-oh don’t be a fucking liar now,” you hiss. “You didn’t do the warm-ups with me and you were being especially crabby during practice.”

“If anything, you’re the one that’s being crabby.” 

You gasp, “you have the nerve. You know what I’m talking about.”

Seokjin groans, readjusting the tennis bag strap on his shoulder. “Look, I can make buddies with other people on the team, too, y’know?” 

“This was different,” you whine. “What did I do wrong?”

Seokjin stops in place, forcing you to halt and stare at him. “Do you consider me as a friend?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately.

“But… only as a friend?”

Your heartbeat stops briefly. “Wh… what do you mean?”

Seokjin stands there, un-answering but intensely holding your gaze. You want to avert your eyes elsewhere, feeling too overwhelmed by his stare and the possible meanings behind his words. You nearly combust on the spot when he slowly raises his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You sputter, “D-Do you…?”

Seokjin smiles sadly, placing his hand back in his pocket. “I guess you could say I was jealous earlier.” Upon seeing you frown in confusion, he continues, “Before the other school left the other day, I saw Taehyung exchange numbers with you. And you… you seemed pretty into him. It was a bit frustrating to see.”

Your mouth was left gaping, opening and closing like a fish. He was jealous? So that meant, he likes you? Or does he not like your fraternizing with the enemy?

Seokjin sighs at your silence, turning to begin walking again. 

You’re stuck in place, trying to absorb this new information. But wait, he’s gone out the door. You haul ass to chase after him. 

“Wait!” You holler at him, even though he didn’t gain that much distance from him. “Stop!”

Seokjin groans loudly, “What do you want from me?” 

You catch up to him once again, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “You like me?”

Seokjin shakes his head, and you think you might cry on the spot for somehow misunderstanding him. “I can’t believe I have to confirm with you when it is so obvious.” He leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You whine, clasping sadly at your unnoticeable wound. “Yes, dummy. I like you, and I was so sure you felt the same way, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“EH??” You’re feeling a lot of emotions all over again, but on the bright side, you’re glad that the main one is happiness. 

Seokjin scratches the back of his head, unsure if your reaction to this new revelation is good or bad. “Well, Hoseok told me that maybe you just exchanged numbers as friends, so I chilled out.” He starts to fiddle with the zipper on his shirt. “But then I overheard you talking to Irene about him outside the locker rooms. I asked her earlier if you were like, serious with him or something. And she just laughed in my face.” He pouts at that.

You almost laugh, almost. “I do, though. Like you, I mean. I exchanged numbers just to do it, but I didn’t have any real feelings towards Taehyung. At least not like the ones I have for you…” It feels weird to say out loud, and you feel like your heart is pounding way too hard in your chest. You aren’t even looking at Seokjin at this point, but aimlessly staring at trees. 

You yelp as you’re harshly tugged forward, darting your eyes to the hands that grasped yours and then to the owner, who has a beaming smile on his face.

“Come on,” Seokjin chuckles, pulling you to the direction of his car in the parking lot. 

“Where are we going?”

“Our first date. I know you have nothing better to do.”

You almost kick him in the shin for that. Almost means you attempted, but his long legs maneuver too fast for you to keep up. Seokjin laughs boisterously, dodging your attacks.

Although fake-upset at him, you smile along with him, intertwining your fingers together.

[volganic]

Song of Communion (Redux)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] || [AO3]

OH GOD OH MAN IM SORRY THIS UPDATE IS LONG OVERDUE but its so long in comparison to other chapters........... ty liz for always supporting me and telling me to keep every detail in here bc otherwise this wouldnt be half as long as it is

song is o magnum mysterium (and quite literally the song that started this whole au in the first place)

A high-pitched ring of steel meeting steel sang through the crisp autumn air. Both Volga and Link's weapons were locked together as they tried to overtake one another. In the passing months that Link had come to visit and train under the dragon's watchful eye, this was the first time they had traded blows. The Dinolfos chieftain that the Hylian usually sparred with (under Volga's supervision) stood on the sidelines.

Volga withdrew his spear back, only to thrust it forward again to breach Link's defenses. Having gone through these exercises time and time again, Link had expected it to withdraw and drew his shield up to block the lance from grazing his exposed side. He's thankful for moving it when he did — the dragon's raw strength was far greater than he had imagined; aimed to kill, unlike the Dinolfos who only struck to subdue. The force of the blow sent a shot of pain up through the length of his forearm. He grit his teeth and took a step back, ending their exercise to brace his right arm. He'd definitely feel that in the morning.

His partner lowered the spear and sent him an inquisitive look. Before a question could fill the space between them, Link brushed off any concerns he must've had with a dismissive wave.

"I'm fine! Let's continue."

Volga shrugged. If there's one thing he learned by mentoring him thus far, Link wasn’t like most people: where most people would have yielded and accepted their loss, Link recovered with a renewed strength and vigor. It was a commendable quality to possess. It also made him stubborn. Too stubborn sometimes, but someone else could be unfortunate enough to teach him patience and to pick his battles. He'd leave that to the poor woman general back in the castle.

Their feet moved together in sync as they circled around each other on the cliff side, their steps carefully choreographed to keep their attention on each other's movements while still mindful of the crumbling rocks beneath their feet, and easily poised to either strike or block  whoever dared to make the first move. Link desperately tried to ignore the bead of sweat running from the edge of his brow down over his cheek, but moved quickly to brush it away.

That was all the distraction Volga needed to suddenly lunge forward with his weight to strike. They fell into rhythm now: strike, step to the side, block, sweep, repeat. The dragon had drilled these movements into his brain. It took a lot of calculating than he was used to, thinking at least three steps ahead before the enemy while also keeping an eye for any openings or escape routes — this was only a friendly spar, but the danger of traps or ambushing parties was also something to keep a note on in the actual battlefield. General Impa would find it unorthodox and out of order by her methods, but it was far more engaging and befitting of a leader as grueling as Volga's system worked.

Link stumbled with a swipe of Volga's weapon nearly coming into contact with his ankle. He teetered off to the left, barely catching his footing on the edge of the cliff. Volga scoffed when the Hylian righted himself and poised his shield up, waiting for the next move.

"Scatterbrained today, aren't you?"

"No," he lied. His eyes averted away from Volga for only a second to see that the Dinolfos that lurked in the background was slowly stalking its way toward his unguarded flank. Have to move away from the edge of the cliff, he thinks, somehow catch Volga off balance, turn to keep both of the dragons in sight, overtake them —

— there's movement in his periphery from Volga's direction. Suddenly he felt a shove, and felt himself falling. There wasn't much time to react to such brute force, and even less to grab any of the rocks to keep himself from falling further down the cliff side. Volga stood on the edge, spear still in hand, and was growing smaller and smaller with each passing second. He tensed with realization. Stupid, he thought, stupid to think he could have trusted him!

His back slammed into something. It wasn't the ground, he knew that much. The impact still knocked the wind out of him, and before he knew it, he — they — were scaling their way back up the mountainside. The Lizalfos chieftain that acted as his safety net didn't seem too thrilled with carrying him back up to his master, but Link thanked the three that they still were looking out for him. 

Link was less than graciously dropped back along the edge of the cliff. The Lizalfos and Dinolfos chattered among themselves and retreated back into the caverns now with their duties completed. Now it was just him and Volga, left with an air of tension.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" It wasn't a question. They both knew that much. Link ignored the hand offered to help him up and pushed himself off of the ground, dusting off his tunic and brushing dirt off of his face. 

"You could have killed me!"

"Not my intention," he scoffed, "but there are others who are more inclined to do so." He clapped Link's hurt shoulder for good measure, smirking inwardly with the grimace he was given. The Hylian could pout and whine all he wanted. It wouldn't stop Volga from relishing in the fact that he toned him down another notch. 

--

"Are you sure you don't need any more weapons?" Link asked. In reality, he was genuinely curious, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to poke fun at the dragon. Volga grunted dismissively in response, shuffling out of Link's way as he allowed the boy to wander around in the room. 

Today must have been something really special: not only was it the first time he had ever sparred with Volga, but this was also the first time Link was allowed in the center of the volcano — more importantly, it's where Volga kept his so-called "hoard". Maybe it was a tad naive of Link to assume Volga was the kind of dragon to collect all things that sparkled and shined, to have a room (or several) flush with treasures never before seen that piled to the top of the ceiling and threatened to spill over with its endless amount of secrets. The three chests that sat along the wall hardly looked like they harbored anything of worth. Blue eyes watched the dragon sift through one of the chests, and while it held a considerable amount of jewelry, it all looked extremely... tacky. 

What he was rifling around for, he didn't know. 

Link rolled his eyes and instead faced the walls of the cave. This, he believed, was the real treasure. Weapons upon weapons upon even more weapons lined the faces of the walls in an elegant and organized display. It was like being in a candy store! Not a single space was wasted, ranging from the smallest of daggers meant for tiny hands to the largest Goron-forged blades he had ever seen taking a place like a trophy. How Volga of all people managed to acquire them (or sweet talk a Goron into giving up such impressive armaments) was a question for another day; he didn't want to be pushed out so quickly after being invited in for the first time by prying too much.

He toddled over to look at spears undoubtedly meant for the Zora. A careful fingertip ran over the curve of the trident. "Is your spear like that of the Zoras?" he asked innocently, eyeing the gleaming silver hilt of a Zora spear next to the trident.

"Just because we're no longer outside does not excuse you from your other exercises, boy," chided Volga from the other side of the room. "Run through it again — and don't touch anything."

The Hylian swiveled his head to look at the dragon and object, finding that Volga's back was still turned to him. Alright, maybe he was a little predictable. Link pulled his hand away from the Zora weaponry with a huff and moved quietly to admire another set of miscellaneous weapons. 

əʊ   m æ g ʌ m   

A smile crept onto his lips as the words paired with his tenor rolled off his tongue so naturally. Though the translation of it was lost to him, such a simple activity like singing brought him an immense amount of joy, a sense of freedom — even if it were in the middle of the volcano.

m ɪ s t ə r aɪ ə m   

At least here in the caves, there was a sense of privacy that the castle could not provide — or as much privacy as he could get with the dragon or any of his kin within earshot. Better them than any of his comrades who would begin to question when and where he had found his voice.

Volga paused his rummaging to listen to how the notes reverberated off the decorated walls. Link took it as a good sign that he hadn't been interrupted by now and continued on, staying within arm's reach of the wall and running his fingertips along the rocks, trailing between the edges of many dangerous blades. 

i: t   ə d m ɪ r ə b aɪ l 

One sword caught his attention. It stuck out among the collection of other plain, familiar-looking swords that Volga had hung around it — swords he might have picked off from Hyrule's forces, no doubt. Its serrated blade nearly pricked his finger even with the most delicate touch. If its serrated edges weren't striking enough, the jewels encrusted from the center of the blade to the hilt and the four-pronged guard were enough to keep him interested. It was intimidating, but a beautiful blade.

Volga might not have been the kind of dragon drawn to every trinket that sparkled and shined, but Link was beginning to convince himself he might be that kind of person instead.

s eɪ k r e m ə n —

"Stop."

Link frowned. With a heavy sigh, he released the breath he had been holding to finish out the rest of the melody before he was so graciously interrupted. He tore his eyes away from the sword to face Volga who now stood in front of a closed chest, arms folded.

"What have I told you?"

The Hylian crossed his arms. "Don't touch anything—"

"Wrong." Volga paused and wrinkled his nose considering his words. "Perhaps I did also say that, but that is not what I refer to now." That earned him an eye roll from Link. "Need I remind you of the importance of the diaphragm?"

"Hylia, not this again!" groaned Link, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's always something with you, isn't it? Am I not good enough by your standards?"

"You're ever approaching it," he countered, "but you continue to move too much, and it carries in your voice despite how you choose not to believe it."

The dragon took three large strides to approach Link, planting his clawed hands on the captain's shoulders, adding an uncomfortable squeeze and pressure for an extra measure. Link grimaced again with the weight against his bad arm. 

"Like the core of your body, the diaphragm is a key component to—"

"'—to achieve a better quality of pitch, volume, and tone'," Link finished for him. It was obvious it wasn’t his first time hearing it before either. "'If your breathing is poor, it reflects in the singing', I know, I know."

"Then," Volga pressed his thumbs into the pressure points in Link's neck, "why do you continue to breathe so poorly?" His hands stayed locked in place as the Hylian crumpled in his hold, writhing and attempting to swat him away.

"Volga- ow- stop—!!"

"You should start by releasing tension in your upper body."

The dragon loosened his grip for Link to stumble away from him, a smug grin upturning his lips with the ferocious look he was getting. Link rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

"You're such an ass."

"I could say the same about you." 

Link shot him another glare through narrowed eyes and now turned his back to the dragon. He hasn’t decided whether or not it was a good thing that Volga was capable of being just as immature.

“Where’d you get this?” Link asked and pointed to the sword, desperate to change the subject. "I could use a new blade."

“We haven’t finished our lesson, boy,” he said. Link braced himself for another painful squeeze to his arm as Volga pulled him back away from the display. Instead — with gentle hands — he dropped a silver band encrusted with a round emerald cut into Link’s hesitant palm. It was far more elegant than the jewelry he had seen it mixed in with, more along the lines of what he had imagined Volga would be enamored with. 

Something in the back of his mind reminded him that this stone looked familiar.

"- song stone."

Link shook his head, breaking out of the stupor he didn't realize he was in by the stone glimmering against the light. "What?"

"It is a song stone," Volga repeated, having sensed Link's distracted mind. It definitely was an opulent accessory, if not the most dignified piece in Volga's hoard. But he wouldn't tell the boy that. "I think you are prepared to harness its power."

Another magical item. The Hylian knit his eyebrows together with some aversion. "Uh-huh." Even with the hesitance toward it, Link still slipped it onto each finger to find the perfect fit. It was a really pretty thing… The ring fit snugly around his middle finger, and almost looked to glow brighter as his hand moved around to catch the light. "And it can do what?"

"Amplify your gift, if the name was not obvious enough for you." Volga smirked from another one of Link's annoyed expressions and crossed his arms. "There are no limits on your vocal range with the power of the stone. After all, how else do you plan to command your army? Or perhaps even charm lost, weary travelers to their doom?"

The displeased expression on Link’s face quickly turned disheartened. "Volga, that's not funny."

"I am not trying to be funny. Jokes are another way of stringing up lies, and I do not care enough to lie." The dragon shrugged nonchalantly. "It is merely the reputation placed upon me, and if that is how they choose to acknowledge me, I have no interest in fixing it. If it keeps fools off of my mountain and out of my caves, so be it. If they choose to ignore it, I accept no responsibility for what may happen to them in my domain."

The words hung in the air for longer than it should. Link's eyes moved away from Volga's concealed ones to look back down to the ring. Even after all this time, the Hylian had never considered how he was one of the lucky ones — if not the only one — to make it out of the Eldin Caves alive. He had fallen for Volga's magic, to one of many of his songs, and yet here he stood, now learning how to wield it for his own greater purpose. 

He had never considered those who lost their lives to it.

Volga cleared his throat. He despised the tension that lingered between them. 

"Rumor has it that the stone you hold was forged from the same emerald safeguarded by the Children of the Kokiri," he said softly. Link perked at that and looked to him again, interested. "Whether that rumor is true or not, I myself cannot say, but I would be inclined to agree that its magic could stem from their songs." Uncrossing his arms, he tapped the jewel chained to his own chest with a clawed finger. "This jewel of mine not only does this contain the magic of my birthright, but it, too, is also a song stone, forged by the Goron Ruby."

Ah, so that's what that was. Link stared at it and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, idly turning the stone on his finger with his thumb. 

"Volga, I don't think I can—"

The faint echo of a Bulbin's horn traveled through the air, cutting Link off. That wasn't a sound he was used to hearing. The dragon perked at the sound, understanding its call. 

"I want you to have it," he assured, gently placing a hand on Link's pauldron. "I implore you to let go of whatever doubt you might have clouding your judgement. You've earned it. Come now, my friend!" His arm moved around to wrap around the other shoulder, pulling the Hylian even closer and ushering him out of the room. "The newest group of chieftains have returned with fresh kill, and the time to feast is now."

"Wait— wait wait wait-" Link squabbled, planting his feet on the ground, "did you just call me your friend?"

The dragon paused. Did he say that? His tongue ran along his teeth as his jaw shifted in thought, tasting the word in his mouth. Friend. All things considered, that was the best way to describe their relationship: more than strangers, more than acquaintances, neither enemies or allies — at least until now. Volga nodded once as if to convince even himself. "Yes, I did. It seems only fitting to say so, does it not?"

"You could have at least started by using my name first. You've never called me 'Link'!"

"Don't push your luck, boy," Volga chuckled dryly and tightened his grip. "Do not tempt me into changing my mind. I would like to arrive at my own feast on time, and your chances of getting that blade you've been gawking at are slipping away."

--

"Brothers and sisters!" Volga silenced the group of his kin who growled among themselves by pounding the end of his spear against the cave floor. The sound nearly made Link jump out of his skin. "Tonight, we are gathered here not only to celebrate the autumnal equinox, putting aside our struggles and hardship of the last season, but to also forge a path to better our future. I thank you," he gestured to the troop of the smallest Lizalfos in the cavern, "for this bounty you have brought us. You have proven your strength and honor to rise to the occasion, to rise as chieftains, and to rise as leaders for the next generation of our kind.

As we move on with the coming season of change, we too, must change." He beckoned for the Hylian to move out from behind him. Reluctantly Link did so, stepping to Volga's left and coming in view of the band of lizard kin. "Most of you are familiar with this human," he said, purposefully careful with his tone when referring to the boy, "and know he is not a threat to our clan. With that said..." he passed his weapon over to Link's unsuspecting hands. This wasn't something Link as prepared for, severely underestimating the weight of the spear and nearly dropping it. He was a deer in headlights, now put as the center of attention, all of the reptiles’ eyes fixed on him.

"Tonight, we also forge our alliance with this boy. Though we are that of a neutral party, he is our friend, and, like the rest of you, my chieftains, he has risen to the occasion with the spirit of a dragon and will guide us forward for the greater good."

"But Massster!" A Dinolfos rose from its perch in a rush, eyes darting between the boy startled in his boots and its master, "you said we do not like humansss! We kill them!" It growled in opposition to the Hylian when his expression hardened. Sizing him up, it took a step forward when Link slightly shifted a foot backward. "Thisss one is small and weak! Easssy to kill!" 

"This one could kill you should I allow him to take another step toward you," Volga hissed, clasping his hand above Link's on the spear. "Move one more inch closer and he will become a threat to you. He will remain on this mountain longer than you if you continue with your insolence, and by Din’s name, I will leave you to bleed out myself. Learn your place, hatchling." His words dripped with poison. 

The Dinolfos held its vindictive stare for a moment longer before recoiling back to its perch with a sad growl. Volga snapped his head to the rest of the drakes with a frown. 

"Any more objections?" They sat in silence; his decree was loud and clear. The Hylian himself was just as shaken with Volga’s outburst, thankful that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it this time. "No? Very well." 

Link was left to hold the spear alone again as Volga moved forward to the slabs of meat scattered about on the stone table in front of them, ruthlessly pulling a Moblin flank apart by the bone from the lot of the carcasses. Having been so distracted with seeing almost the entirety of the lizard tribe in one place and nearly getting into a dispute with one of them, the Hylian had nearly forgotten that this was a feast for them — everything was raw. 

His stomach turned with the sickening squelch the meat had made when the dragon knight bit into it, blood and juices painting the edges of his mouth and dripping down his chin. Hylia, why did he agree to do this?

Volga exhaled in bliss with the coppery taste of fresh meat on his tongue. A sense of accomplishment warmed his bones; this, he knew, was the right course of action to move forward for both his people and in Link's destiny. He swallowed his chunk of meat before turning back to the Hylian, expecting him to accept his offering. When he didn't, Volga snarled quietly; culture shock must have settled in and frightened the boy senseless. But why? It was only meat! A harmless, ritualistic offering!

A sideways glance showed the tribe of Lizalfos and Dinolfos stirring in their place, eager for their turn to devour their bounty. Being surrounded by predators….

To ease the boy’s anxieties, it seemed logical to appear less menacing in a cave full of dragons. Volga held the bleeding limb between his teeth, his hands moving toward the straps that held his helmet together. 

Link’s eyes widened; everything unexpected today snowballed into an avalanche all leading up to the dragon unmasking himself. His grip on the hilt of the pike made his knuckles turn white in anticipation. He was lucky enough to escape from Death Mountain more than once, but never pinned himself ever lucky enough to witness the dragon of the Eldin Caves without his helmet.

The pointed chin strap clattered to the floor.

Oh goddesses.

Oh Hylia.

A mess of ashen-colored hair spilled out from the edge of the helm and Link’s breath hitched in his throat. Again, it was naive to think that Volga was anything more than a monster after months and months of grueling combat practice and coaching his voice. Had it not been for the other’s tall height or the black markings that surrounded his striking green eyes that now looked through him, the dragon could more than likely pass for a human. The Hylian stood frozen in place, the same cold rush he had felt the first time he had entered the caves and been mesmerized by the dragon’s song flooding his veins; this time, it was the dragon’s appearance that mystified him.

It wasn’t until the spear was taken from his hand that Link finally tore his eyes away from Volga’s. Now his hands were bloodied with the meat that held more significance than to serve only as a predator’s meal. Despite the voice of common sense screaming at him to not eat the raw meat, Link finally nodded in acceptance and bit into the flesh, pushing himself to ignore the blood dripping down his own chin this time. The chewy texture was awful and the taste was worse, but he only had this one life.

Why not?

Volga, pleased with the acceptance of his offering, took a hold of Link’s wrist and held it high, turning them both to acknowledge the rest of the troop. The Lizalfos and Dinolfos sat at attention.

“For the glory of Din!”

The cavern came alive with a cacophony of the dragon tribe’s roars, fires burning bright.

--

The first few days after returning from the caves dragged on from the castle’s infirmary — partaking in a draconian feast was fine, so long as the meat wasn’t raw and bleeding. Healers pushed Link to drink one too many teaspoons of bitter-tasting yellow potion, easily unconvinced that whatever ailment plagued him was not “only a stomachache”. His stomach churned horrifically from the aftermath, but the reward outweighed the risk, all worth being accepted into an extraordinary clan.

A clan he couldn’t bear dragging them through a war that wasn’t their own to fight. 

Link eyed the Magical Sword from its place across from his bed. Its previous owner had already been unfortunate to cross paths with this Cia, this witch that was planning an uprising of unknown proportions — she, in turn, was unfortunate enough to cross paths with the dragon that pushed her back into her place of hiding. Maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing that she had run into him first.

How would things have been different if she didn’t? Link often wondered about the outcome more than he would care to admit. Would the war have been over by now? Would Hyrule be laid into ruin? Would he be able to keep the princess safe? 

His eyes fell down to his hand where his thumb had idly turned the stone around on its ring. 

Cia needed a general to start this war. If she had succeeded, would Volga have joined her?

“Captain!”

The sharp sound of knocking against his door jarred him out of his thoughts. The hero — now that he was back within the castle, he almost forgot he had a title to uphold — moved to open the door. The messenger stood stiffly in a salute.

“The General wants you to ready your mount and prepare to move out before sunset, captain!”

Link nodded once and saluted him off, shutting the door once he could no longer hear the heavy footfalls from the corridor. It was already mid-afternoon. There wasn’t much time before twilight would be upon them. He turned back to look at the sword. Better to use it now than later. 

Without a second thought, he secured his newest weapon to his back and made his way out for the stables.

--

“Can we talk for a second, Link?”

Their newest addition to their party at least asked nicely. The hero paused his inspection of Epona’s hooves to look up at Lana, inviting her to continue on with her questions. Though she might have been allied with them for the last few months, Lana still remained an enigma to him: he wasn’t sure if she was hiding more than she let on since their first encounter, and more so with how much she knew about Cia. 

“I-I can see you’re really busy,” she stammered, already falling over her words. “But I just wanted to ask you something personal, if that’s alright?” 

It took every ounce of restraint to repress the urge to roll his eyes. Lana was a cute girl, sure, but Link knew where this conversation would eventually lead up to. There was no time to play these kinds of games with allies who had more than just a friendly interest in him, and even less with the sun slowly setting and sky turning into orange. 

But the company was nice, the presence of another person filling the space in the otherwise empty stable. Link turned back to his work and gave her one stiff nod. 

Lana relaxed almost immediately and smiled sheepishly. “I’ve noticed that you leave the castle grounds every chance you get whenever you’re granted the time,” she said quietly, planting herself on a wooden box near the other side of Epona to keep Link’s attention. “May I ask where you go?”

He didn't look at her as he shuffled from one of Epona’s legs to the next. His hand moved up where she can see, fingers and thumb pressed together. They move from the corner of his mouth to swipe over and touch his cheek. Home.

Her smile faltered. Lana said nothing as she wiggled in her seat and grew visibly uncomfortable with his answer. Her feet kicked at the hay around the box. Some part of Link didn’t like this conversation at all, but he steered his thoughts into focus, now rummaging through his pack to make sure he had everything he needed —

“I know you don’t go home, Link.”

He snapped his head up to look at her. Yeah, now he really didn’t like the direction this was going. He frowned when her eyes met his. 

“I know the village you hail from is in the west, but you head northeast. Please, be honest: where do you go?”

Was she stalking him? That was enough. Link scoffed quietly and pushed himself off the stable floor with the pack in hand, haphazardly throwing it over Epona’s saddle. He wanted this conversation to be over with whether he was prepared or not for whatever mission he was being set on. As he stood, Lana stood with him and stepped closer.

“W-Wait! I don’t know where you go, but I just want you to be careful, Link! The last time you returned, you were sick for nearly a week!” The sorceress said in anguish. He ignored her in favor of looking for the reins for his horse. “I can sense a change in you every time you come back, and I’m not sure if—” she stopped herself when Link snaps to look at her with narrowed eyes. She steadied herself with a hand on Epona’s mane, fingers delicately brushing through her white mane. “I’m not sure if it’s dangerous yet. Cia is coming closer with each day, and I— I can’t lose yo—”

“There you are, captain!” 

Lana backed off, retreating to her corner as Link both relaxed and tensed with his general now in the room. Their conversation was now at an official end with Impa wandering into the stables. He gave her a salute in greeting. She threw an arm over his shoulder and turned him away from Lana’s direction. At least they still held a common distrust over the sorceress.

“I apologize for this short-notice, but I need you to head into Faron Woods. Reports of more monsters have been flooding my desk, and some are trickling in with rumors of a sprouting Manhandla deep in the forest.” 

Link blinked up at her with an incredulous expression and suddenly noticed the lack of her own weapon on her person. Impa understood what questions he had written across his face and nodded affirmatively. “Yes, captain, you will lead a small brigade by yourself. It’s not your first mission alone, but I trust that you can command a group on a mission such as this.” She patted his arm and released him, moving to pass the reins on Epona to him. 

He wasn’t sure whether he liked the idea of being left to command a group of men yet without her guidance. On the other hand, it was nice to know that the Sheikah had seen enough growth in his skills to trust him with another mission. Soon enough, maybe, he would be the one to take charge and lead their men to victory. Without a second thought, Link accepted the reins and pulled Epona along out of the stables, sparing Lana one last sideways glance. Resigned in her corner, she gave him a small wave of goodbye.

Once outside in the glow of twilight, he climbed into his saddle. Some of his men — two soldiers and one fellow captain — were waiting for the order. Their general stood by Link’s side and saluted them off. “May the goddess Hylia smile on you all. And Link,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm, “bring my men home safely.”

The hero nodded to her with a lopsided smile and snapped the horse’s reins. With a loud neigh, Epona led them off into the settling dusk in the direction of Faron Woods.