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varian-and-the-seven-skies · 4 years ago

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Cor Meum | Chapter One: City of the Sun

Synopsis: In a world of floating cities and steamships, Captain Rapunzel runs the fastest ship in all the skies. But this rowdy crew is not without its secrets—or its treasures— and Hugo, newly-hired, is ready to discover them all. Now if only Varian, the whip-smart lead engineer, would get out of his way.

A TTS & 7k AU of epic proportions, featuring cool fight scenes, steampunk machinery, and an inevitable romance. Written by @littlemisslol-fic and @izaswritings.

AO3 Link is here!

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Chapter One: City of the Sun

“Need a hand there, goggles?”

The voice, barely audible over the sound of welding and banging metal of the mechanic’s shop, draws Varian’s attention away from the chaos of the engine above him. With a beleaguered sigh he stares mournfully up at the greasy gears and other assorted guts of the machine. His eyes flick down to see a pair of black, perfectly polished leather boots waiting patiently near the edge of the suspended machine, and it takes more than a little willpower not to groan.

Varian grits his teeth. He does not have time for this. He only has until tomorrow to fix this stupid thing before the ship’s due to take off; he’s already been working on it for three days, and if he can’t get it running the Captain is going to flip.

The leather boots that Varian can see past the edge of the engine shift slightly, and Varian can feel more than see the light kick of someone else’s shoe against his own. The large silver buckles on the boots flash just enough to be annoying, and Varian makes a face. The voice drifts back down to where Varian has hidden himself under the engine, and it takes everything in him not to groan.

“Hey, can you hear me under there?” it says impatiently.

Varian plants his back a little more firmly on the rolling mechanic’s bed he’s lying on and pulls on the outer casing of the engine, rolling himself out from under the machine with a small grunt.

He slams his eyes shut against the sudden change in light, blinding even behind the protective lens of his goggles. When he opens them again he can see a tall figure leaning over him, blocking out most of the sunlight coming in from the skylights embedded in the iron ceiling of the shop. Varian cricks his neck, looking around in a last desperate attempt to ignore the person hovering over him.

The mechanic’s shop is certainly distracting enough, stuffed full of people just as grease-covered and irritated as Varian, all of them suffering together in the heat caused by welding and hard work. Made of thick stone and wrought iron, the large space offers room to spread out that you just didn’t get in airships, making it the best place for Varian to do his work with big projects like engine twelve’s sad, hollowed out corpse. Large windows dot the ceiling like stars, offering light and just the smallest hint of the blue skies above. The shop is, if anything, supposed to be a safe haven for the mechanically minded. People aren’t supposed to try and talk to each other, which is something Varian cherishes. Nothing worse than trying to piece together penny-sized cogs or a delicate engine part only to be interrupted by a nosey crewmate.

Which is why blondie being here is certainly quite the insubordination. Society has rules, damn it.

Varian wipes his gloves clean off his apron before pushing his goggles up onto the top of his head, linking his fingers and stretching his arms out towards the ceiling. He lets his arms flop back down with a sigh, and finally locks eyes with the person above him.

Varian arches a brow, and the blond’s smile splits just a little wider.

“I’m sorry?” Varian asks, not exactly friendly. By the Maker, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“I asked if you needed a hand,” the blond replies, a glint in his green eyes. He’s tall, is Varian’s first impression, tall enough that he’s likely got at least a head of height on Varian if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. Varian would say he’s muscular, but there’s the sneaking suspicion that it’s really more the black leather coat that makes the teen in front of him look that way. Varian has employed similar tactics in the past; he knows the tricks. Get a big coat with a large, pointed collar and massive cuffs and boom, suddenly you’re twice as intimidating as you were before. It's a good coat, though, if a bit heavy for Corona weather. Shining silver buttons line the length of the jacket, and it has deep pockets that Varian can only assume are full of fun little tricks from experience. The silver continues on the blond’s vest as well, a trim piece of green fabric with polished silver buttons and a faint embroidery.

Blond hair, chopped in a rough undercut, frames the other teen’s thin face in an annoyingly aesthetic kind of way, held back from his face by the wire frames of the other teen’s circular glasses. Green eyes meet Varian’s own, and the blond smirks at Varian’s blatant staring.

In all honesty, he almost looks out of place, dressed up just a little too much to be skulking around with the grease-monkeys Varian calls his contemporaries. If anything, the quick flash of a silver rapier on the blond’s belt cinches it. Whoever this teenager is, he’s either from money, or pretending to be from money, both of which are irritating in their own way.

Varian bites the inside of his cheek, trying to find a way to reply politely.

“No, thank you,” is what he spits out instead, grabbing at the engine and starting to pull himself back under it. The blond’s heavy boot slams down on top, the mechanic’s bed jerking to a halt, and Varian’s teeth click uncomfortably together at the force of it. The engine swings a little dangerously from where it’s suspended between two large chains, holding it high so the underside of it is easily accessible. Varian stops mid-yank and glares.

The boy just smiles, annoyingly unphased.

“Aw, c’mon, goggles,” the blond says with that same irritating smile, green eyes bright behind his round glasses. “Isn’t that a little heavy for a tiny thing like you? Don’t you want the extra help?”

Varian huffs in offense, already done with this conversation. The shop’s agonizingly hot, even with the windows thrown open. It’s loud, dirty, generally rather unpleasant with the stink of grease and sweat, and though it’s the best place to work in the dockyard it’s still chaotic at best. Varian only has another eighteen hours to figure out what the problem with this engine is before they’re due to take off from Corona again, and Varian knows it’s his ass on the line if the work doesn’t get done. He doesn’t have time for some uppity asshole to think he knows more than Varian and try to upstage everything.

“I have a name, you know,” Varian says, coldly, looking the guy dead in the eye.

“Can I know it?” The blond winks at him. He seems to think he’s making headway.

“Nope,” Varian replies with a peppy smile. There’s a moment of shock, and that’s all he needs to yank his mechanic’s bed out from under the blond’s black boot, disappearing back under the engine.

Finally. Back where he belongs, the annoyance avoided. Varian scratches at his face idly, bringing his googles back down over his eyes, setting his mind back onto his work. He peers up into the open panel at the bottom of the engine, noting the interweaving cogs that should in theory be working by now. After the bloody pirate attack a week ago, engine twelve, or specifically this part of it, had taken a hell of a beating. The Captain had pushed her too far again, causing something inside to rupture and spew parts across the engine room floor like a geyser, and in turn Varian has spent the last three days desperately trying to piece it back together. Something is still wrong with it, though, and it’s driving Varian insane trying to figure it out.

“Come on, darling,” Varian mutters to himself, taking a wrench to one of the bolts. “Talk to me.”

He gets no answer. Instead a small plume of dust and grease spurts out of the machine onto Varian’s face, only just splattering onto his goggles instead of his skin. Lovely. He grits his teeth, reaching in to really give it a piece of his mind—

“It’s the bolt on the timing belt,” the blond pipes up from beyond the engine. “If you leave it as-is, it’s going to fall apart the minute you try to take off.”

…Oh. Varian looks up to the timing belt, tucked away neatly near the upper left side of the engine, and lo and behold, one of the bolts holding it in place is missing. Damnit. Varian peeks up through the engine, up to where the top panel’s been removed as well, and just catches a glint of green eyes peering down at him through the guts of the machine. There’s a minute of debate in him, how much does he value his pride? Enough to admit he was wrong to this irritating little—?

“Look, pipsqueak,” the blond says, his voice filtering through the cogs and gears. “I know machines. Just trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Varian clenches his hand around the wrench, wondering how long he can go without committing murder. Maybe if he made it look like an accident…?

He rolls back out from under the engine again. The wheels make a protesting noise against the cobblestone floor. This time when he comes to a stop, he sits up properly, shoving his goggles back up to rest haphazardly on his forehead.

“Can I help you?” Varian finally spits. His ire only seems to encourage the blond, who grins.

“I mean, it seems like I’m helping you,” Green-eyes says, idly pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. How he’s dealing with the heat of the day in that giant coat Varian would never guess, but that’s besides the point. Varian rocks his weight a bit, thinking, the mechanic’s bed under him shifting with the movement. Decided, he finally pushes himself up to his feet, noting with irritation that the blond is, in fact, at least a foot taller. Scowl setting deep on his face, Varian turns away and kicks at the mechanic’s bed roughly, sending it rolling back under the engine for safekeeping.

There’s a chattering noise of gears and steam, and Varian feels a weight land on his shoulder. He only just adapts to the heavy weight of copper, steel, and brass, before he feels his first creation clambering for his attention. Varian absently reaches up to pat at the metal body of his pet, scratching at a place between the exposed gears of Ruddiger’s ears that he knows the little automaton likes best. Ruddiger coos out a puff of steam, settling his weight onto Varian’s shoulders fully, the automaton having jumped from on top of the engine. Aperture eyes snap open and close with content, breaking the glowing green light of Ruddiger’s eyes for just a second as the raccoon-shaped automaton purrs.

The blond lets out a little huff of a laugh when he sees Varian and Ruddiger together, green eyes flicking between them. He gestures to his eyes, biting his lip. “Look at that,” he says, grinning. “You’re twins!”

Sure enough, when Varian peers into the polished brass sides of the engine, he can see that his eyes are ringed with grime and soot, giving him a distinctly raccoon look. Varian scowls at his reflection, turning back around with an angry gesture of the wrench in his hand.

“If you weren’t right about the engine—” Varian begins to threaten, but the blond cuts him off.

“But I was,” he says with a smarmy smile. “Right, I mean.”

Varian can feel his eye twitch.

“You’re rightly annoying,” he grumps, crossing his arms. Ruddiger makes an offended puff of steam at the movement, digging mechanical hands into the shoulder of Varian’s shirt a little tighter. Varian grits his teeth a little as tiny claws dig into his skin through the thin fabric.

The other boy holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, head cocking to the side. “I know what I’m doing, all right? Let me help fix the engine.” Green eyes glow with mirth as the boy looks down at the engine again. “Because, clearly, you seem to need it.”

Varian scowls, his hands clenching into fists, fingers digging into the leather of his gloves. The wrench in his hand is temptingly heavy, but Varian simply grits his teeth and ignores the plots for murder, taking a deep breath. Instead he reaches up and over the engine, using the wrench to try and tighten the bolt on the timing belt one last time. It creaks a little dangerously, but Varian knows it’ll hold. He designed it himself, after all.

Ruddiger keeps an eye on the blond behind Varian, making curious noises, a soft clicking sound that mixes well with the quiet ticking of his clockwork heart. Varian has to use two hands on the wrench to get the bolt tight, giving it a few violent tugs. The blond is watching him—Varian can feel eyes on the back of his neck—but Varian steadfastly ignores him, either out of focus or spite… or maybe both.

Work done, he finally turns back around to the blond, stepping forward with a threatening gesture of the wrench.

“Look,” Varian says, pointing the wrench an inch away from green eyes. “I don’t particularly care for your tone, so—”

“Varian!” a third voice calls, and Varian stills mid-rant. Both Varian and the irritating boy next to him turn, locking eyes with a young woman—a familiar woman. Her grin is a mile wide, bright as the sun and twice as warm. Her purple dress swirls around her ankles, cinched tight at the waist by a black corset, with billowing sleeves of white fabric. Her green eyes crinkle when she sees the two of them turn to her, scrunching up the spattering of freckles on her face and wrinkling her button nose. She’d look a proper lady, she certainly holds herself with the decorum expected of one, if not for the pixie cut she’d chopped her hair into. It’s stylish, with shorter sides and a longer top, nearly defying gravity in the way it fluffs up from her head into a windblown wave.

Varian notes, with quite a bit of amusement, that she’s holding onto a pair of flats in one hand. Barefoot again, then. Classic.

“Rapunzel,” Varian sighs, dropping the arm holding the wrench back down to his side. He can feel the embarrassment of being caught picking fights seizing him. He’s eighteen now, he really should know better, and Rapunzel is nothing if not determined to keep him on the straight and narrow.

“Who’s this?” Rapunzel says with interest, her eyes flicking between Varian and the other teenager. The taller boy seems to stiffen under her gaze, which is unsurprising. Rapunzel is notorious in these parts, and in the dockyard especially. Varian rubs at the back of his neck in the presence of his Captain, and can feel his cheeks burn red.

“He was just leaving—” Varian starts to say, turning away from her to glare at the blond, but Rapunzel cuts him off.

“Oh, did you make a friend?” she asks, coming closer and leaning on Varian’s shoulder. It’s infuriating the way she’s taller than he is, even after his growth spurt.

“Sure,” Varian says through grit teeth. “A friend. We’ll call him that.”

Rapunzel brightens at that, and Varian can already sense the trouble on the horizon. “And you are?”

The boy shrugs. “New.”

There’s a pause, but Rapunzel pushes forward. “Oh! How are you liking Corona, then?” she asks the blond, her grin a mile wide at the thought of Varian having friends. Varian’s not sure if he’s offended or not, really.

“Loving it,” the blond says. “The City of the Sun could never disappoint.”

Varian wants to roll his eyes, but Rapunzel leans further onto him, putting more of her weight onto his shoulder in a silent bid for him to behave himself. He goes along with it—she’s typically right in these sorts of situations.

“Glad to hear it,” Rapunzel grins. “What brings you to our fair city, anyways?”

“I’m here looking for work, actually,” the blond says quickly. “Just got back from a contracted expedition to Vardaros, so now I’m on the hunt for another engineering job.”

Rapunzel’s face brightens, and Varian grows concerned. He knows that she’s been contemplating hiring extra hands for their next expedition, seeing how important it is, but there’s no way she would actually—

“Well, you’re in luck!” Her face splits into a wide smile. “We’re actually looking for a junior engineer, and any friend of Varian’s is a friend of ours. We’d be glad to have you aboard, if you’re willing.”

Varian’s face must do something funny, since Rapunzel’s full weight is near crushing him now. He tries to catch her eye, but she’s ignoring him with a grin. Rapunzel knows exactly what she’s doing and Varian can’t help but feel the slight pulse of irritation sink into his gut. She’s planning something, he thinks, glaring at her as she steadfastly ignores his gaze. Only the Maker knows what goes on in that woman’s head, honestly.

“Well, can’t say no to that,” Varian’s new most-hated-person says.

By the Maker, what did Varian do to deserve this? Has he really been such a terrible person to deserve this kind of treatment from the universe? Honestly, you’d think he was a horrible murderer in a past life for the kind of penance he’s paying in this one.

“Perfect!” Rapunzel crows with a clap of her hands. “Varian can show you how to get back to the Aphelion—right, Varian?”

“Yes, Captain.” Varian grunts, idly wondering if he could brain himself with the wrench in his hand in such a way that would guarantee he wouldn’t survive. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to mind, finally letting up on Varian and gently pushing away from him with one last squeeze of his shoulder.

“Alright, you two,” she says, winking to Varian as she leaves. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing— I’ll see you both back at the ship! Play nice!”

Varian can’t help but feel like he’s been played.

If Varian had his way, he’d turn around and fire the blond here and now. Varian’s the head of the engineering section of the Aphelion— that’s got to count for something, right? In theory it should, but Varian knows that Rapunzel, as Captain, had final say in everything. If she wants to be a busy-body and force Varian to try and make friends, then by the Maker, it’s happening whether Varian likes it or not.

In this case? It is decidedly in the not category.

He turns to the blond, who looks back with a smug smile. Varian can feel his face scrunch up in distaste at it, and knows that the twitch in his eye is probably back with a vengeance. Ruddiger chirps with contentment on his shoulder, idly pawing at his hair in an attempt to calm his human down. It doesn’t work. Varian sighs, and finally sets the wrench down on a nearby table, jabbing a finger at the other teenager.

“I don’t like you,” is all he says. “But if Rapunzel says you’re in, then you’re in, I guess.”

That stupid fucking grin gets wider, and Varian wants to punch it.

“Who are you, then?” Varian asks, trying for more neutral territory. If they’re going to be stuck together for the next six months once the Aphelion takes flight, then he wants to at least try to work towards something non-hostile.

“Your new crewmate, obviously,” the blond shoots back, and Varian loses all sense of decorum at that point. There’s a beat of silence as Varian tries to reel his temper in, and another as he tries to relax his jaw enough to say something that won’t get him arrested.

“In that case, you should know that you’re speaking to your boss… mister junior engineer.”

The blond splutters, and Varian can’t help but give a little smirk of his own. Nothing better than reminding people of his position, the one he’d clawed for for years before Rapunzel finally gave in.

“Wait, what?” Varian’s new underling asks, going a shade paler.

“My name is Varian,” he says, the smirk growing larger and larger. He brings a hand up to the center of his chest, fingers splayed slightly. “Lead Engineer of the Aphelion, and your new boss. So, tell me, glasses.” Oh, this was so much fun. “Who are you?”

Green-eyes seems to know when he’s dug himself a hole he can’t climb out of, and for the first time there’s something other than an irritating smirk on his face. If anything, Varian would say he looks annoyed. The thought of finally managing to wipe that smirk off the blond’s face is delicious, and it does wonders for Varian’s mood. Varian sticks a hand out, much like Rapunzel had, and while the blond glares at it, he still takes Varian’s smaller hand in his own.

“Hugo,” the blond grits out, holding Varian’s hand maybe just a little too tight. It’s still worth it to see this boy squirmthough.

Varian waits, but the older boy—Hugo—says nothing else, and after a moment Varian draws his hand away. “Good talk.” That’s that, he supposes.

A pause, and then Varian shrugs and moves away, looking back to the engine. Screws in place, broken pipe replaced, timing belt bolted... it’s about as fixed as it can get. Varian reaches up and slams the top back down with a loud clang. Hugo jumps. Varian grins, and kneels down to lock the top back into place.

Ruddiger chitters in his ear, scolding; Varian shakes him off and straightens back to his feet, peeling off his gloves and shoving one hand back through his hair. Ugh, city sweat and oil. He can taste it. “Well,” Varian says, resigned. “Might as well make yourself useful, I guess. Help me push this back to the dockyard.” Hugo opens his mouth but Varian cuts him off. “And if I hear one more comment about my physical prowess—!” He pats the wrench twice with a sweet smile, the threat more than obvious.

Hugo closes his mouth. He’s grinning. By the Maker, even when he’s quiet, Varian can practically hear what Hugo wants to say anyway. This is already a disaster; what the hell is Rapunzel thinking?

He has a sudden and vivid flashback to her winking at him, and shudders without knowing why.

Ruddiger coos at him with a puff of steam. Varian tugs at Ruddiger’s ear in return, annoyed with the chiding—he knows how to play nice, thanks, why does no one have any faith in him?—and then walks to the shopkeeper, thus far ignored in the back of the workroom. “How much for the parts?”

He pays for the replacements and manages to haggle for a cart, and in a few minutes’ time he and Hugo have winched the engine down and rigged it up for transport. Varian braces himself against the cart handle and sighs. “Westside dock,” he tells Hugo, squinting sadly at the streets through the large double doors of the shop. It’s market day. The crowds are crazy. This is going to suck. “Pier 48.”

“You sure you know the way, goggles?”

“It’s ‘boss,’ actually,” Varian replies sweetly, and grins with all his teeth at the way Hugo winces. Hah. Varian could get used to this.

They exit the repair shop to a faceful of steam, and Varian coughs hard, waving the smoke from his face as he and Hugo shove their way into the crowd, the cart rattling loudly on the uneven cobble. Corona at midday is as bustling as ever, the city life in full swing. Whole families wander the streets as merchant carts and stores push out their wares; steam-powered bikes rocket past, their riders laughing high and bright. In the distance, Varian can hear the ever-present screech of the train whistles, the trails of steam drifting up from the stations. Above them, the sunlight warps and twists, broken apart by the furious rattle of passing trains and the railroad looping high above their heads in arches and spindly bridges.

Varian squints against the light and shades his face, elbowing Hugo hard to get his attention. The other boy looks almost lost in thought, staring up—his eyes tracking the trains as they pass, looking almost blinded by the sheer gleam of the city in motion. “We’re heading right,” Varian explains, raising his voice above the din, and waves his pocket watch at Hugo’s face, tapping the compass in the upper corner. “Come on.”

Hugo pulls his gaze away and follows, and together they push the cart through the streets, slowly but surely carving a path for the dockyard. When they finally break through the main crowd, Varian pushes them toward the side-streets, shadowy and empty and safe from wandering feet. If they hurry, he thinks, they might make it to the dockyard before the heat really sets in. He gives Ruddiger one last absent pat and starts to pick up the pace.

Hugo is slowing, though, trailing behind, and then for a brief moment he stops completely, hand slipping away from the cart. Varian yanks the cart to a stop, glancing back, ready to give the other a piece of his mind—but then he sees Hugo’s face. Varian follows his gaze, and closes his mouth. He understands now: in the break between the buildings he can see the whole upper half of Corona, the spires of the Sun’s temple and the curving arches of the bridges rising high over the city, shining bright and glossy in the sunlight. It’s designed to look like the sun crest, if seen from directly above—a tourist favorite.

“First time in the city?” Varian wonders, and when Hugo eyes him, just shrugs, Ruddiger chattering loudly on his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

“It’s bright,” Hugo says, dryly.

“And that would be why it’s called the city of the Sun.” Varian blows out a hard breath, trying to get sweat-soaked bangs out of his face. He plants his hands on the cart rail and starts pushing again. A moment’s pause, and then Hugo joins him. “But no, seriously, who are you? You’re already hired or whatever—” Damn Rapunzel for that, now Varian has to deal with this jerk for six months, “—but why are you even here?”

“Luck,” Hugo says, which is such an obvious lie Varian outright rolls his eyes at him. “Money. Look, goggles, I came here for a fresh start, so—” He gestures. “Let’s just not do the whole interrogation thing and say we did, okay?”

Varian presses his lips together, but lets it drop. As irritating as Hugo is—well. Varian understands fresh starts. And the money issue. If it was someone prying into his reasons, then…

“Fine, fine.” Varian says, and turns his head away, only just catching the way Hugo startles from the corner of his eye. He almost looks surprised, Varian thinks, but when he glances back again Hugo just looks as smug as ever, not even out of breath from pushing the cart. His hair is even still slicked perfectly back.

Maybe his imagination? Well, whatever; Varian hates it either way.

It’s not far to the docks, and Varian knows the path like the back of his hand; by the time the midday heat really starts sinking in (and Hugo, in that stupid leather coat, is noticeably starting to sweat—hah, serves him right), they’ve reached the edge of the city. It’s quieter here, the rumble of the crowd replaced with distant whistles and rhythmic banging, the symphony of a dockyard hard at work.

Varian heaves the cart to a rolling stop by the stairs, waving at Hugo to step back, and cups a hand around his mouth. “Xavier!” he shouts down at the shipyard, pitching his voice high. Ruddiger props up on his head and yawns, puffing steam like a smoke signal. “Send Cass up here, would you? I’ve got that engine part fixed!”

“Oh, wonderful!” Xavier waves back. “I’ll send her up— we’ll get it reinstalled right away! Grab Yong for me?”

“Where is he?”

“On the ship!”

“Got it!” Ruddiger crawls from his shoulder down into his arms; Varian cradles the racoon close—ouch, hot metal—and finally looks back to Hugo, humming. “Well, come on then.”

“Yong?” Hugo wonders aloud, as Varian makes his way for the ship. It’s in Pier 48 now, the main dock for repair work, which makes this a longer walk than usual. Damn pirates, punching holes in their ship— who did this Donella think she was? For someone with such a fearsome reputation, they’d gotten away pretty light…

“Xavier’s assistant,” Varian explains, clutching Ruddiger to his chest and hopping down the stairs two at a time. He hears a snicker, and whips around to glare. Hugo looks away, one hand covering his mouth. Varian narrows his eyes. “Xavier was that man down there, he runs the engines, and— would you stop laughing?”

“Sorry,” Hugo says, with a grin that says he isn’t sorry at all. “You were saying?”

“Okay, I’m not doing this.” Varian spins on his heel, ignoring him. “Come on, it’s just around the corner. She’s a little... battered right now, some hull damage, but we’re set to leave tomorrow— and I mean tomorrow— time is money with this next shipment, understand?”

Hugo smiles, leaning closer to Varian. “What’s so special about it?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Is it expensive?”

Expensive, one of a kind, irreplaceable—there’s a lot of words Varian could use for it. If the Aphelion’s last cargo had been valuable, this next shipment is near-priceless. “That’s on a need-to-know basis—” Varian says tartly, “—and until we’re in the air, you don’t need to know. Now, will you be ready?”

Hugo shrugs. “I’m ready to go now.”

Varian blinks at that, looking Hugo up and down. Even Ruddiger lifts his head from his nap to sniff a disbelieving puff of steam. No luggage, just the clothes on his back and the sword on his hip. “Um… you sure?”

Hugo’s smirk widens. “Aw. Worried for me, goggles?”

Ha-ha, nevermind. Varian pivots back around. “Nope.” He is not allowed to punch his new assistant. He is not allowed to punch his assistant. Rapunzel would be disappointed. There would be lectures. She would make charts. Not worth it. “Now, where is that ship—”

He ducks around the corner, stepping out of the way of horse and cart, and then, like the sun splitting the clouds: there she is.

Varian trails to a stop, annoyance already forgotten. He turns, for once wanting to see Hugo’s full reaction. If Hugo had blinked twice at the city, then… “Here we are,” Varian says, grinning now, pride bubbling warm in his chest. “The Aphelion!”

Hugo looks, mouth opening, and Varian can just see the rude comment he’s about to make—and then Varian really doesgrin, wide and bright and smug smug smug, because he can also see the moment Hugo loses all his words entirely.

Varian has always loved Corona, despite everything—the spiny skyline, the arching bridges, the whistling steam and winding roads curling up to the temple like a conch shell. Varian has lived in this air and breathed this city for all his life, and he loves it with all he is— but of all the places in the city, the dockyards, and the ships they harbor, are where his heart truly lies.

If the city is bright, then the dockyards are blinding. They sit on the very edge of the city limits, the cliff-face drop of the flying city. The copper paneling that makes up the dockyard decks has turned near solid-gold in the sunlight, and beyond that edge the whole world falls at their feet. Miles upon miles of dotted green farmland, blocks of gleaming metal towns, curving roads like man-made rivers. The horizon burns gold and blue, the distant silhouette of other flying cities dotting the landscape, poking out from distant clouds. None of the cities fly as high as Corona, of course—the cities of the Sun and Moon are meant to float above all the rest—but it still makes for quite the view. With other airships hanging in the sky, colorful backdrops against the full white clouds, the dockyards are most certainly a sight to behold.

But the jewel, Varian thinks with a smile, is his ship—Rapunzel’s ship—their home.

The Aphelion.

She’s a work of art, Varian knows, and she looks it, too. Aphelion is a whole three hundred feet of dark wood and solid brass, long and sleek and sharp as any blade. Her half-moon windows are stained glass and shining; decorative copper and silver wires wind down her front and all across her sides like trailing vines, or maybe wings, or maybe the unfurling edges of the sun. She’s got four sails and an envelope made of the best weave, the cloth of the balloon so thick it’s near impossible to cut, set to hold them afloat for nearly two decades even if the engines and the fires both die. A heavy copper turbine sits at her back; the sails, flapping loose in the breeze, are decorated in off-hand embroidery. She’s golden and shining in the sunlight—and it’s right, that Hugo goes dead silent at the sight of her, and Varian can’t help but grin. Because anyone who stops and stares at the Aphelion, anyone who goes breathless at their first glance… well, as annoying as Hugo is, he can’t be too bad, then. Not if he sees the Aphelion for the treasure she is.

She hadn’t always been this way, of course; she’d been a broken thing once, before Rapunzel found the shattered shell of a ship and coaxed life back into her. It’s Rapunzel’s way, after all, to find broken and trapped and hiding things, and bring them out to the light—but Rapunzel had asked Lance to do the tarp weave, and Varian had built the metalwork, and in the end, it was all of them, together, that brought the Aphelion to the skies, blinding and beautiful and larger than life.

Varian steps away and sets Ruddiger down on the cobble, still grinning wide and pleased at Hugo’s shock, and waves up to the small figures settled around on the Aphelion’s balcony. Rapunzel—standing at the helm with Eugene, Nuru, and Yong—looks over, and she leans over the railing to wave back. Her eyes draw to Hugo next, and even from this distance, Varian can see her smile.

Varian turns back to Hugo, radiating smugness. “Well?”

Hugo blinks fast and shakes his head. “Well,” he echoes. He shakes his head again, and then he gives a little laugh. “Well.”

“What do you think?” Varian presses, intent. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” And maybe Hugo catches something in that, maybe he can tell Varian really and truly wants an answer, because he looks at Varian, eye to eye, and then— he smiles.

Months later, this memory will stand out to Varian. Years later, Varian will look back on this day in the sun and finally recognize the moment for what it was. A beginning. And an end.

Their only warning.

It’s bright, the smile Hugo gives him. It’s blinding. But for some reason, something about it makes Varian falter. A chill runs down his spine. His mouth goes dry. Because there is something in that smile—in the curve of it, the sharpness of teeth—something about the way it creases at Hugo’s eyes. It unnerves him. It unsettles him. There is something about it that doesn’t sit quite right, and if Varian had known better, then, perhaps he could have read the smile for what it was.

But instead Varian looks away, feeling cold and not sure why, telling himself it is just the wind—and beside him, Hugo, his eyes fixed back on the ship—

Hugo smiles.

“Yes,” he says. “She’s perfect.”

#tangled the series #varian and the seven kingdoms #varigo #vat7k #hugo tangled #tangled varian #varian #hugo #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #tts #rta #chapters #fic: cor meum

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author-a-holmes · 3 years ago

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Monthly Magic

@monthly-magic

Just gonna share an excerpt from my current Nanowrimo project, because it happens to include some pretty strange plants. Tree's, specifically!

The Fey use "Sacred Tree's", either an Ash, Oak, Hawthorn or Birch, located in the centre of a Fairy Circle, as portals to the Mortal Realm.

In Chapter 2, my main characters make their way through the Forest of Portals to sneak their way into the Mortal Realm.

Excerpt Beneath the Cut, Wordcount Aprox 1,500

Her steps slowed slightly as she took in the small forest of Sacred Trees. Ash, Birch, Oak and Hawthorn, all acting as portals between the Fey and Mortal Realms, and powered by the Fairy Circles that grew around the base of each trunk. Their twisting limbs stretched up, tall and dark against the night sky and Lizzy was suddenly very grateful to have Booker at her side.

“Ready?” he asked quietly, and Lizzy braced herself before nodding.

Quietly, they climbed the wooden fence, hopping to the grass carpeted ground of the orchard, and quickly making use of the shadows cast by the forest of magical portals to stay out of sight of the roaming Court guards that patrolled the mushroom lined walkways.

“Which one do we need?” Booker whispered as they moved cautiously deeper into the trees, but Lizzy shrugged while carefully stepping over a line of mushrooms so that their destruction didn’t alert the guards to trespassers.

“I don’t have any way to activate a Fairy Circle, so we need one that’s been recently used and still has some lingering power,” she explained softly, “so just… look for the glowing blue mushrooms.”

“Do you not know which one Maddy’s delegation went through?” Booker asked, voice sharp, but he fell silent quickly when Lizzy shot him a sharp look of warning.

“Unless you have a way to activate it, it doesn’t matter,” she reminded him, “We can figure out where the delegation went once we’re there-” She cut herself off sharply when she spotted a patrolling guard approaching along one of the neatly trimmed pathways. Grabbing Booker’s hand and dragging them both behind a large Hawthorn to hide, they watched in tense silence as the guard wandered past her wings fluttering in boredom.

It was only once she was out of sight, and they were in no immediate danger of being overheard, that Booker continued, his voice low and quiet.

“Lizzy,” Booker muttered, “do you have any idea how big the Mortal Realm is? Without knowing which portal Maddy used…”

“Getting out of here is the hard part,” she deflected, “Once we’re there, they won’t follow us and we’ll have time to figure everything else out, and most importantly we’ll be that much closer to mum.”

A quick glance around the tree trunk and Lizzy was ready to move on, she released his hand only to tug lightly on his light linen coat to get him to follow her, “Come on, we need to find an active circle before one of the guards finds us.”

They didn’t have to go much deeper into the orchard, before Booker pointed out the bright blue glow of an active Fairy Circle, and Lizzy immediately headed towards it, excitement and the hope for answers distracting her until she almost walked head first into another of the Court guards.

It was only Booker’s grasp on her wrist, and the shadows of a large Oak that kept her from being seen. She turned to thank him, but silenced herself when he pressed the fingers of his free hand against his own lips, before tapping his temple and Lizzy grimaced at his silent request for telepathy.

Glancing at the guard by the active circle Lizzy watched the woman for a moment, hoping she would walk onto the next leg of her patrol, but the guard didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon and Lizzy slowly turned back to Booker, reluctantly nodding her acceptance.

It only took seconds for Booker to link up their minds, but Lizzy still wrinkled her nose and bit her lip at the uncomfortable sensation of something wriggling against her skull.

‘This would be so much easier if you didn’t fight it every time,’ came the quiet voice in her mind, and she shook her head.

‘I wouldn’t fight it, if it didn’t feel like a fly buzzing against my ear,’ she grumbled, glancing back at the guard again before adding, ‘what are we going to do about her?’

‘You just had to find the Fairy Circle with a permanently stationed guard, didn’t you?’ Booker complained, but with their thoughts linked Lizzy could almost taste the reluctant amusement behind his words.

‘How was I supposed to know?’ she shot back, and the strange sensation of a simultaneous laugh and sigh brushed across her mind.

‘Fine, fine, lemme think for a moment…’

Lizzy grimaced again when she felt the pressure in her head change as Booker retreated slightly and sank into his own thoughts, returning her own attention to the stationed guard. Her dislike for telepathy was just one more thing that set her apart from her peers.

A normal part of Fey society, Lizzy had always shied away from the contact, unless it was Booker or her mother. Someone inside her head always felt intimate and a little foreign to Lizzy, and yet there were some Fey who communicated almost exclusively via telepath.

Lizzy had made it a point to avoid those Fey as much as she could.

She felt Booker’s attention return to her, so wasn’t surprised when his voice echoed through her head once more.

‘I’m going to distract her,’ he said simply, and Lizzy turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised.

‘How?’

‘Do you trust me or not?’ He sent back, but she didn’t need to be inside his head to know he wasn’t as confident as he was pretending to be, the tightening around the corners of his mouth told her that much.

He must have sensed the argument brewing in her mind because Booker continued quickly, ‘Look, just be ready to make a run for the portal if this goes sideways,’ he told her, while dropping his bag onto her shoulder, and before Lizzy could summon any kind of an answer, Booker broke the contact between their minds and stepped away from the tree.

Lizzy watched him from her hiding spot as he made his way onto one of the cultivated paths that led towards the Court guard and began approaching confidently, his pace steady but brisk. The woman came sharply to attention when she heard him, turning to face Booker with an expression of wary warning that melted away as Lizzy watched Booker begin to speak to her, his voice quick and quiet.

She couldn’t make out what her friend was saying, but the guards' features were easy to read and they cycled from confused to panic stricken in a matter of moments, the reactions more than enough to reassure Lizzy that whatever Booker had intended, it was going to plan.

It was only when the guard's wings suddenly lifted away from her body, and she launched herself into the air, disappearing into the night as she quickly flew towards the town centre, that Lizzy felt her jaw drop open in shock.

“Lizzy!” Booker’s hissed call snapped her shocked gaze down from the sky and back to her friend, who was beckoning her urgently, “Hurry up, she won’t be gone long!”

Jerking into motion, Lizzy tightened her grasp around both their bags before jogging over to Booker’s side but he didn’t let her stop, just grabbing her free hand and sending them both running towards the oak tree surrounded by the active Fairy Circle, signified by the perfect ring of large white mushrooms that glowed bright blue, throbbing slowly with Fey magic.

The moment their feet crossed the ring of mushrooms and pressed against the soft grass the blue glow pulsed brighter and raced across the ground beneath their feet like a shockwave, closing in on the sacred tree before it hit and ran up the oaks trunk, sinking into the deep cracks between the bark and giving it a translucent appearance, before an aurora of warning lights lit up the sky above them.

“Shit!”

“Keep running!” Booker snapped back, tugging on Lizzy’s arm when her steps faltered at the light display they’d inadvertently triggered.

Lizzy could hear the sudden buzzing of Fey wings filling the air behind them, knew that the aurora would have summoned every Court guard in the vicinity, but seconds later she and Booker slammed into the still glowing trunk of the tree, and passed through it.

Bright blue faded to black, like the aftermath of an explosion, or from staring into a fire too long and then looking away. Lizzy had just enough time to realise that the whole sensation felt disturbingly like falling, before she slammed into solid ground. Her legs gave way beneath her from the force and Lizzy dropped their bags, her hands snapping out just in time to catch her forward momentum against the grass and to stop herself from smashing face first into the ground.

Booker’s anxious panting beside her suggested that her experience wasn’t a unique one, but Lizzy struggled through the moment of disorientation, rolling quickly to sit on the damp grass, staring anxiously at the tree they’d just passed through as she scrambled backwards and away from the portal.

Despite her reassurances to Booker earlier in the night, Lizzy half expected a contingent of Court guards to follow them through at any moment, dragging them both back to face… whatever the punishment was for an unauthorised portal access, but slowly the glow faded from the tree, leaching out from between the cracks in its bark and sinking into the soil before disappearing entirely.

“We did it,” Lizzy breathed, not quite able to believe in their success for a long moment before she suddenly released a relieved laugh as the realisation began to sink in.

#monthlymagic #Ari Writes #Fey Touched #Lizzy Hail #Lila Isabelle Hail #Booker Reed #YA #YA Fantasy #Fantasy #Fantasy Romance #Mysterious Plants

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rosezure · 4 years ago

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Songbird 1 - A Mission

Songbird - Chapter 1

A/N: This is sort of an AU kind of thing. It’s gonna mix fanon and canon info, so bear with me. It also contains spoilers for a lot of the BNHA/MHA plot (manga and anime). This is also very self-indulgent. The main character is an OC of mine, so I'm sorry if you're not into that.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the BNHA/MHA universe, nor its characters. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. My own characters are, however, of my creation.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death(s), including of family members. Some violence. Blood. Mentions of sharp objects such as knives, swords, scissors, etc. Tattoos. Swearing/strong language.

The sun shined down on Asa's wings, causing her white feathers to reflect the light into her opponent's eyes. This gave her the advantage she needed to send them flying backward, causing his back to hit one of the gym's walls.

"Another bloody training session, my Commander," Caique chuckled, handing Asa a bottle of water and a towel. The warrior was drenched in sweat, red in the face, and her ponytail was quickly slipping undone.

"Thanks, Caique," She thanked him, taking the bottle and gulping half of the content in less than 3 seconds.

"Wow, intense cardio today?" He teased, covering his smirk with a heavily tattooed hand.

"Why, yes, actually," Her eyebrows were raised as she patted the towel across her neck and face, "Will you be joining me for muscle training?" She set the items on a bench to her left.

"Unfortunately, we have a meeting in fifteen minutes with the parliament. You should get ready," He frowned, a grave tone lacing his words.

"Fuck," Asa groaned. If there was one thing she hated more than forced cardio, it was parliament meetings. Those old, white-headed people were a bore and downright entitled. This was going to be torture.

"You should avoid repeating that word during the meeting," Caique's sarcasm fell to deaf ears. Asa was already marching to the showers to make herself at least presentable for the meeting.

"We'll meet at the emerald doors?" Once again, he was ignored. The tall male smiled at her back with fondness. He felt sorry for the parliament members.

The truth was, the members were afraid of Asa. They often had to walk on eggshells around her, especially during meetings. Her herculean resolve to make sure the decisions being made would cater to the people's needs led her to - for lack of a better word - passionate verdicts. Until, eventually, Caique would swoop in and help them find a middle ground solution.

That was the only reason he was allowed into these meetings. He was only the Captain of the Royal Guard. But Asa, the Commander of Her Majesty's army, was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to the people. And she only listened to him.

In the parliament meeting room, the members were silently talking amongst themselves. You could say they were preparing for a storm. Kind of like we prepare ourselves before a gruesome class with a tyrant professor.

"I swear! That woman is too temperamental for her position. We don't need a Commander that'll lose their marbles every time a minor crime occurs. This is why I would've preferred the Queen had chosen Yara to be Commander." One of them grumbled as they all took their seats.

"I agree. But Minister Yara is doing a fantastic job! Farmers have never produced so much in such a short time! Her openness to new and sustainable practices is what brought our crops back to life!"

"True, but she would have made a fine Minister of Security. Though I believe perhaps Domi's warrior background would've also made a perfect fit!"

"Yes, yes!" They chorused in agreement. Yara and Domi listened to their whispers with frowns. They knew Asa better than anyone. Although she could be hard to deal with, she deserved her position more than anyone.

"Good morning," Asa's voice echoed in the large meeting room. The ministers took their seats, greeting her back with low voices and bowed heads. Caique and her scoffed as they sat down.

Not a minute later, the doors opened again. Santos, the Queen's right-hand man, came in. He was dressed in a long royal blue coat with silver trimmings, dark leather pants, and a white chemise. His black books clicked as he made his way to the end of the large table in the center of the room.

"Let's try to be as concise and objective as possible," He gave Asa a pointed look and sat down. She smiled back at him mischievously. The two had a brother-sister relationship. Santos often had to scold her for some of her escapades, so to speak.

The meeting began, and Asa tried her best to behave. Whenever he noticed her wings flutter, Caique would softly nudge her so she'd calm herself. It wasn't her fault these old farts were about as wise as a rotten egg. Oh, how she wished she could just sink her sword in-

"Minister Asa," Asa lifted her eyes from the table. "Please present your diplomacy strategies." Santos raised an eyebrow, urging her to do as he said.

"Right," Asa cleared her throat and stood up.

"Dear members of the court," She greeted them, "For our diplomatic measures and to ensure peace throughout the kingdom, I have a few strategies."

Two hours later, the meeting ended. Santos asked Asa to stay behind to discuss some plans they had, so she dismissed Caique.

Once the Hand of the Queen and her were alone, Asa took a seat closer to him and grabbed one of the papers stacked in front of him.

"If we could just convince Minister Isaac that the anti-rebellion plan is too extreme mayb-" Santos raised a hand, interrupting her.

"Asa, I didn't ask you to stay behind to discuss politics."

"You didn't?"

"No, I did not."

"Okay... Then for what? I have some training to conduct."

"I'm aware," Santos chuckled. "The Queen is coming to talk to you. It's somewhat of an urgent matter." He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the situation without alarming Asa. It was too late for that.

"The Queen?!" Asa all but shrieked. "What's going on? Are we under imminent attack? Have my scouts returned with grave news?" Asa stood up abruptly, ready to leave and prepare the army for an attack. Her wings were preparing to take flight when she felt a hand on her wrist.

"Calm down, Asa, please!" Santos tried his best to hold onto her.

"My child," Asa stilled at the Queen's voice. "Please calm yourself. You are Commander of the Royal Army, act as such."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Asa immediately answered, bowing in respect.

"Now, Santos, please explain why Asa isn't holding the usual training session right now." The Queen asked as she took Santos's seat.

Her Majesty, Queen Yeba of Pindorama, was a powerful and intimidating woman. She had brown skin, with a red undertone, pale yellow eyes, and white hair. Her facial features were always schooled to be serious, but the lines around her lips showed how much the Queen truly enjoyed life. She had full eyebrows, a slightly flat round nose, plump lips, and high cheekbones. Queen Yeba represented the richness and power of her land, and Asa had always admired her.

"Asa, as her Majesty had entrusted me with telling you why you're here," Santos began, "Please listen until the end. If you have any questions or objections, you can ask them once I'm done." Asa nodded for him to continue.

"Her Majesty has received an urgent message from the Prime Minister of Japan." Santos took the vacant seat to the right of the Queen. "They have recently dealt with a powerful villain, with a quirk named All For One. Unfortunately, the results of the confrontation were devastating. Many of their champions, or heroes as they call them, were lost in battle or severely wounded. Physically and mentally."

Asa furrowed her eyebrows. She knew that kingdom from the hours she spent reviewing war tactics and diplomatic agreements. They were on good terms, and she hoped they stayed that way.

"They were, however, able to capture the dangerous quirk owner, as well as some of his followers. Most importantly, they managed to capture his would-be successor, a man with a decay quirk." Santos looked at the Queen to confirm he could go on.

"Continue, Santos."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Santos cleared his throat and continued. "They believe our healing assistance would be of great help. We are known for our many powerful healing quirks. And our natural resources are valuable assets in the medical area."

"This is a wonderful idea, Your Highness," Asa smiled. "If we lend them a few of our healers and send some resources for their hospitals, our alliance will grow even stronger!"

"That is one of the points. But, I'm afraid you have a specific role to play in this part." Santos fiddled with his fingers, afraid of what Asa's reaction to what he was about to say would be.

"I don't understand," Asa frowned, "I'll prepare a team to escort the healers and equipment. Right?" She looked from the Queen to Santos back and forth.

"I shall tell her, Santos. Thank you for your help." The Queen smiled at him and stood up, her royal blue dress cascading down her frame.

"Asa, my child," Queen Yeba stood behind her chair and placed her hands on Asa's shoulders. "You are being sent as a healer. And you will stay as a show of our alliance."

"What?" Asa's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your Highness, I'm not a healer. I'm a warrior, a soldier at best. I live to serve you and the army." Her words were pronounced clearly, strongly. Her wings were puffed out.

"We need a spy there. The Prime Minister needs someone to keep an eye on their Hero Commission. It's an organization that has been causing nothing but trouble, and he fears what will happen should they get their hands on the decay quirk. Or worse." The Queen explained.

"Oh," Asa sighed in relief. "So I won't really have to act as a healer?"

"Not quite..." Santos intervened.

"Oh boy."

"Oh boy, indeed, Asa," Her Majesty chuckled. "You'll have to brush up on those healing techniques books."

"With all due respect," Asa pursed her lips, "The last time I practiced healing, I was six years old. It was before I lost my parents to the War of Clouds. I don't think I'm the right person for this mission." She bit her lip, trying not to think about her family.

"I understand." The Queen then did something unexpected. She kneeled next to Asa's chair and looked up at her, holding her hands.

"Listen, my child," She began. Asa's and Santos's eyes widened as they gaped at their monarch on her knees. Asa's entire body, including her wings, went rigid.

"You have to let go of the hurt and the wounds of the past," She squeezed Asa's hands in her own, "You can be the kindest and most talented healer of all times. It's in your blood. Allow yourself to reconnect with your roots, rediscover your quirk. Bring honor to your family, Asa of the Kuatamunato tribe."

"My Queen, I'm not sure. I don't want to cause issues if I can't perform any healing."

"That won't be a problem. You'll have plenty of time to prepare."

"Really? That's great! I'll start studying right away."

"Uh, Asa? Her Majesty meant you'll have plenty of time there."

"Wait, what?"

"Indeed, Asa," Queen Yeba stood up. "You're leaving tomorrow."

"My Queen!" Asa began to protest, but the Queen interrupted her.

"I won't hear your excuses anymore, Asa. Santos will explain the rest." The Queen left after that, not giving Asa a chance to object.

Asa turned to Santos, eyebrows almost touching her hairline.

"Well?"

"Right, I should probably explain it a bit more."

"Yeah, you should." Asa crossed her arms.

"Okay," Santos took a deep breath. "You now know about their situation and the kind of help they need. And you heard the Queen herself ask you to go and act as a healer."

"Yes, I'm almost painfully aware of that burden."

"Less sass, please. Just listen," Santos pointed his finger at her. "What Her Majesty means is that you'll be sent there as a healer, but also as a spy. Your actual mission will be to gather information on the Hero Commission and their illegal, borderline cruel activities. We have a few files you can go over during your trip."

"Okay, everything makes sense except for the healer part." Asa sighed. "Santos, you and I both know I am incapable of healing a freaking plant, let alone a bunch of champions from another country. I'm afraid this will be a disaster."

"Here's the thing: Your cover is going to be as healer and teacher at a hero high school."

"You're demoting me to school nurse?! I'm the fucking Commander of the Royal Army! I'm no school nurse!" Asa bellowed indignantly, her wings flapping behind her aggressively. Santos resisted the urge to snort at her outburst and continued.

"At the school, you'll also be lecturing music classes-"

"Ah, the classic Siren method."

"That is your quirk, Asa."

"Whatever. This still sounds insane."

"Asa!" Santos reprimanded. "Her Majesty is doing this for you. We considered sending other soldiers, spies, and healers for this task. We chose you because of your abilities, your training, and your quirk. You have to start letting go of the past. Her Majesty believes this will give you a chance to embrace your quirk." Asa felt her shoulders tense. He had no right speaking about her past like that.

"It's stopping you from developing. Your wings are growing weaker every year, and you know this. You know you need to use your quirk to keep your whole body strong. Why are you torturing yourself like this?" Santos was grasping at straws, hoping to get any sort of reaction from her.

And he did. Asa stood up, her icy blue eyes dark and glazed over. Her wings were wide open, intimidating him. She looked into his eyes and sneered.

"Because I wasn't enough. I couldn't save anyone." Asa gritted out. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Asa had to calm down. She couldn't lose control now.

"What time do I leave?"

"Tomorrow after lunch."

"Who's to take over after I leave?"

"Caique."

"Good. I've done my best to train Caique."

"I'll make sure to keep him in line."

"I hate that you're right."

"I know. I love you, too, my little sister." Santos walked over to her and pulled her into an embrace.

"Where in Japan am I going to?"

"Musutafu."

"I hate it already."

"Of course. It wouldn't be you if you didn't."

Chapter 2

#bnha #mha #hawks x oc #keigo takami x oc #hawks #keigo takami #bnha au #bnha oc #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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illshowyourhurricanes · 5 years ago

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Heat Wave

This drabble turned 2000+ word one shot is brought to you by this fantastic request from @the-blind-assassin-12:

This took forever and took a completely different direction than the one I had planned. Thank y’all for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 8: Ryan Brenner x reader (related to Bah, Humbug and In the Line of Fire (part two) which can both be found in my masterlist)

Rating: PG for slight language

Word count: 2167

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes @delos-destinations

Follower event tag list: @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @witchygagirl @breanime

If anyone would like to be added to/removed from my permanent tag list, just shoot me an ask!

When you’d left home at the crack of dawn for a job interview— which had gone surprisingly well thanks to Starbucks and an extra shot of espresso— you’d needed something far warmer than the lightweight blazer you’d grabbed on your way out the door. Now, just before noon, you had shed your blazer that had proven to be insufficient earlier, yet you still felt hot in just your sleeveless blouse and pencil skirt. You thought a perk of moving farther up north would be the mild, temperate climate. It was your first Indian summer, though you’d lived in the area for a year, and you had decided it was bullshit. What had happened to the cool, crisp autumn you’d fallen in love with a year ago?

When you pulled open the heavy glass door of the post office, a cold blast of air but your skin, and you stepped inside quickly. The air conditioning felt absolutely fantastic, and you briefly wondered if people would notice if you lingered for awhile, just to soak up the cool temperature, maybe until you were even a little chilly.

You smiled at the thought as you arrived at your box, smack in the middle of the wall of post office boxes belonging to other people. There was a wall of boxes on your left, another on the back wall— yours on the right—and there were more just down the corridor. You rummaged in your bag to find the tiny brass key for P.O. Box 257, tucked away in a zippered compartment in your purse. After the third time it had fallen off your key ring, you decided to hide it away in a more safe, reliable place.

After locating your key and unlocking your box, you stared at the unexpected abundance of envelopes that had piled up over the last week. Who knew so many people still send paper mail? It took two times reaching into the small box to pull out every piece of mail, mostly tuning out to be junk or credit card companies offering you low interest rates. Only then was the box empty— almost. Retrieving the one remaining piece of mail at the bottom of your box, you smiled as you realized who it was from, locking the box back before giving the postcard a good look. It was rare that Ryan sent you postcards.

They were usually letters tucked away inside envelopes, words hidden for only you to see. The decorative side of the card displayed a vintage style print, a drawing of a wooden fence leading out onto a beach of white sand bordering sky blue waters. Welcome to Orange Beach! it boasted in a series of light green block letters, fading into yellow.

You flipped the card around to see Ryan’s familiar handwriting, a mixture of print that sometimes led off to a few letters of scrawled script:

Just passing through. All the sunshine brings you to mind. See you soon.

You could hear the cadence of his voice, the dropping off of the G at the end of certain words, the slight twang that tugged at his pronunciation of vowels. Your smile grew into a grin as you glanced at the postmark, reading September 3rd. Your eyes widened into saucers as you recalled today’s date. Ryan’s postcard must have gotten lost in the shuffle of the mail circuit— the post date was over two weeks ago.

You shrugged it off and secured your key back into the small pocket on the inside of your purse just before tucking Ryan’s postcard inside. With an armful of the rest of your mail, you braced yourself for the assault of the inevitable sweltering heat.

Fucking Indian summer.

*** *** ***

Ryan was just passing through after a rousing five days in Virginia, where he’d met up with Georgie. Where he was going next was still on the table. Instead of restless, he felt fulfilled, still riding the high of busking with his close friend, both of them splitting the money they’d made halfway. He and Georgie played well together, and it usually paid off. He’d shedded his coat and hoodie, managing to stuff the hoodie into his pack and hang the thicker layer around one of the straps of the large bag. His ever-present guitar case, the black leather wearing off around the edges, was clutched tightly in his right hand as he paused near a crosswalk. Squinting in the sunlight, he was grateful for the small shadow the bill of his cap provided. With the transition of the streetlights from green to yellow to red, he crossed the street and walked one more block to reach the post office.

He was low on stamps, had just two left to be exact. Ryan kept in touch with a handful of people and had a flip phone, but he preferred writing letters. They felt more personal, gave him the time to think about what he was saying and write them in a way that he’d stumble on while talking. There were also times when his phone would be dead for days.

It was mid-July, the thick of the summer, and he could feel beads of sweat forming along his forehead, though it was before noon. The old government building was once red-bricked, but had been washed with white in order to modernize the place. The upkeep added a nice touch as well, neatly trimmed bushes contrasting against the bright paint. He pulled at the metal handle on the right of a set of non-paned French doors, the temperature of the air inside bringing instant relief. The building was eerily quiet, the only sounds lowered voices at one end of the building, the light scraping of paper against metal as patrons picked up their mail. Turning toward the sounds of conversation, he walked down the corridor and turned with the layout of the building.

He was surprised at the line of people waiting, a few solitary people in casual attire, one or two dressed in clothing appropriate for the workplace littered between. There was a mother with a stroller holding a sleeping toddler, an elderly couple, and one woman alone in front of him. He nodded politely as you turned your head to the side in curiosity in order to see what type of brave soul had come up behind you to patiently wait for their turn. You saw a man who was about your age, and offered him a friendly smile, turning around to face him.

Ryan instantly found you absolutely stunning. Your smile brightened your entire face, your features all striking, as if they’d been hand-picked specifically for you..

“Good morning,” you said, greeting him casually as if the two of you had been acquainted a long time ago, old friends. “How about that heat wave?”

Ryan chuckled, surprised at your unaffected manner and genuine friendliness. He noticed the way you surveyed his clothing, eyes quickly glancing to your guitar case before lifting to his face again. Your expression hadn’t changed or faltered a bit, that smile still in place. That was a rarity, something Ryan hadn’t come across in quite some time.

He returned your smile with a slightly crooked smile of his own. There’s some thin’ about this woman, he thought to himself. She’s authentic. A good heart, a kind soul. A fire burning within her. Ryan thought that if she was burning bright, he’d volunteer to stand a bit too close to her flames and would pay no mind to the sharp sting of a burn.

“Mornin’,” he replied good-naturedly. “I think I’m used to all sorts of weather, but then a heat wave hits and reminds me I’m wrong.” Ryan looked at you with warm eyes, spoke with a low drawl that made you weak. “Name’s Ryan, pleasure to meet you.”

*** *** ***

It was eerily quiet when you got home, but the silence was just what you needed. You felt like you needed about three showers to wash away the sweat and sticky humidity that clung to your skin, and the only thing that delayed you was the kicking off of your shoes and dumping your purse and mail onto your couch.

After your shower, water temperature lukewarm at best, you felt human again, revitalized. You’ve mulled around ideas for dinner in the back of your mind, made a quick detour into your bedroom, and returned to that couch you’d tossed your things upon, holding a shoebox. Opening the box as you sat and balancing it in your lap, you reached for your purse, pulling out the postcard you’d received, albeit two weeks too late.

Lifting the thick stack of envelopes that were quickly outgrowing their box, you slipped the postcard picture-down into the bottom of the shoebox. Smiling softly, you brought your legs up, crossing them like a child, and plucked several envelopes from the middle of your stack, devouring the letters that you’d read dozens of times before.

Y/N,

Made a quick decision to hop off in New Orleans before heading off toward Chicago. The train station here is directly connected to a streetcar line that leads straight into the French quarter. Maybe I’ll take a ride next time. Maybe you’ll take one with me.

I thought about you most of the day, the way you’d stop to listen to a three-piece zydeco band in Jackson square. I imagine how you’d look with powdered sugar on the tip of your nose from beignets, and the slow nod of approval when you taste real, authentic gumbo.

I heard the roaring of a streetcar clacking over its tracks and knew that I needed to write to you that very second. I miss you, Y/n. Wish it was me & you riding that streetcar to wherever it would take us.

Ryan

Have you ever been to Vegas, Y/N? Beyond all the neon lights, the ritzy hotels and big-name shows, the electricity of the city shifts. Contrary to what other people might think, it’s a great place to play music, beyond the strip, along a street lined with benches and a slight change of pace.. more of a scenic, less chaotic feeling. People stop, and they listen. Really listen. Sometimes I’ll get accolades instead of money, but that’s what it’s all about— telling stories with hope that people can enjoy them and relate.

It’s time for me to go out for the day. Can’t wait until you’re the audience I’m singing to.

Ryan

Y/N,

I’m just writing to tell you that Memphis not only has the best bbq, but also the best peach cobbler. Georgia’s got nothing on Tennessee.

Ryan

Sometimes, when you really thought about it in retrospect, it was wild. In the space of time that you and Ryan shared as a unit, an entire human could be born; the biology of. growing from cells into a living, breathing, viable human being. An entire new life could be created.

And throughout the last nine months, you, with Ryan’s help, had created a new life of your own. You had a boyfriend, one who was absent far more than he was around, yet managed to never weaken his connection. No matter where in the country Ryan’s trains took him, he’d write. There was no way for you to write back to a man with no address, not in a manner of space and time anyway. But in your new life, none of it was liner. The only time that mattered was when Ryan was there with you, and that was when he got your letters. You always responded, saving your words to give to him next time.

Next time. You slid folded paper back into envelopes, a grin breaking into your face as you heard the sound of heavy boots over your wooden porch. Dropping Ryan’s letters back into the shoebox right on time, you replaced the lid as the door opened and shut. There was a soft thudding of his guitar case being set into a corner, and you stood to pad through the house in bare feet.

You met Ryan in the kitchen, watching him down almost an entire cold bottle of water. You adored this man who had needed to buy stamps while stopped in your town, stepping into the post office you’d been waiting in, all by chance. You had never been happier than when Ryan was home.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him. As he set aside his bottle of water, you rose to your tiptoes to give him a kiss, his lips chilled from the water. Snaking your arms around him, you leaned back and looked at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “How about that heat wave?”

#dani's 150 followers event #drabble requests #image 8 #ryan brenner x reader

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radiantresplendence · 5 years ago

Text

The Case for Blue Mage Naminé

So, I was talking with @acclerated-railgun the other day and the topic of Naminé as a playable character or party member in Kingdom Hearts games post-KH3 came up, specifically in the context of what role she would fill. A classic Black or White Mage, as well as a Red Mage role were quickly put out as possibilities, but I landed in a much more interesting place after some thought: The Blue Mage.

Consider a typical Blue Mage (using the official art from FFXIV for reference)...

Nobodies in Kingdom Hearts are based off of Final Fantasy character classes; it would stand to reason that Naminé would be no different. However, I think that the role a Blue Mage could fill would fit her character as well as a role that the characters thus far in the series are missing. In other words, it would ensure that Naminé maintains her motif of of quirks that set her apart from the rest of the cast without alienating herself as well as providing unique boons useful to the player or players.

At its simplest, a Blue Mage is a wizard who specializes in replicating the otherwise exclusive arts that bosses or monsters can use. Most often, it’s called the Blue Mage, but occasionally the Final Fantasy series calls it something different like the Gun Mage or the Bravely games’ Vampire or Catmancer jobs. Either way, even if less prevalent than its red cousin, it’s still a classically-recurring class in the series.

This fits Naminé due to her status as a “Special Nobody” and a “witch with power over Sora's memories and those around him.” Essentially, she’s all but guaranteed to have potent spellcasting abilities and she’s a unique specimen of the monsters of nothingness that make up a significant portion of the series’ enemies and bosses. Naminé having the ability to utilize the moves of some of her Nobody kin as well as possibly those of some of the other monsters in the setting shouldn’t be out of the question, as fundamentally she is one of those monsters, and an exceptional specimen among exceptional specimens of those creatures at that. After all, she is the Nobody of a Princess of Heart, something which shouldn’t normally be possible on top of being limited in the number of original selves who can even fit that criteria, not to mention the fact that she is a greater Nobody, able to keep a human form while most of her kind just turn into monsters subservient to their greater kin.

Keeping in line with her unique memory witchcraft, a Blue Mage Naminé would have normally unique spells like White Wind for healing instead of a more typical Cure and Flamethrower instead of Fire. She could also use the Blue Mage’s Learn ability to replicate special (but not ultimate or desperation) moves from bosses or some of the other characters in the game. For example, she could learn Meteorain from Cloud, but not Omnislash or Riku’s multi-Dark Firaga move that he uses in KH2 and KH3. A more standard enemy attack that she could possibly make frequent use of would be Xemnas’s thorns of nothingness that he fires as projectiles. Think of them operating as a ranged basic attack, kind of like a slower-rate, piercing variant of arrowguns with a combo finisher that spawns multiple lines of thorns around whatever she’s targeting which collapse onto the target in an attempt to juggle it into the air or something. Or you could give her a keyblade, but I personally find that a little less appealing. Protect smile, keep best witch unique. (Maybe instead of a weapon have her equip different art sets that changes her mood and thus the manifestation of her powers. It’s a good idea, if a bit of an afterthought that I had while writing this.)

From a more general gameplay perspective, give her spells that inflict some of the weirder status effects that the series uses inconsistently, like blind, sleep, stunned, burned, poisoned, etc. Damage over time effects could scale based on percent of a full health bar and her level instead of base stats to keep her competitive casually, and the damage over time would function well in level 1 higher difficulty runs. (For example, a flamethrower spell would deal fire damage based on her magic stat and then burn for 1+[her level divided by 10] percent of a health bar rounded up per tick for so many seconds. Obviously this could be further refined, but a level 99 Naminé’s damage over time from a spell could chunk pretty considerably while a level 1 Naminé would be incentivized to keep her effect up at all times, because each instance would be like a quarter of a health bar or more in exchange for 1 spell.)

To make her healing distinct as well, maybe give her a spell that provides slow healing over time like cura did in 358 Days/2 that could also provide temporary immunity to status conditions, with a possible downside being that she lacks something like a curaga that can revive downed allies and restore everyone to full HP in one spell. Or limit her healing to a more standard White Wind for multi target healing and status condition removal and Angel Whisper that gives moderate single target healing plus a temporary protection against dying like a Kupo Coin or raises a downed target with half health. White Wind could require a channel to cast and Angel Whisper could require being very close to the target for balancing as well as appropriate flavor.

Now for the important bit, the redesign.

Naminé has had the same design since her introduction: largely plain white dress, patterned trim at the hem and sandals. I think, to a point, her look is iconic, but does need an update. To emphasize her status as Blue Mage and connection to water, I would give her dress some baby blue trim, possibly with a gradient from white to blue. I’ve noticed that there aren’t many girls in the series wearing stockings, despite being a clearly anime-inspired game, so I’d consider a pair that is light grey or off-white to show that she originated as a creature of nothingness rather than light or dark. I’d give her grey boots to coincide with most of the other girls in the series having boots or moving from shoes to boots as the series progresses.

I would also give her a blue jacket with black lining that she wears open, giving her more going on in the torso of her design to balance out the additions that I made to the lower part of her outfit. The goal would be to have the contrast between the black lining of the coat and the white of her dress catch the attention of the player. The general gradient of the outfit would go from bold and dynamic contrast up top to a more subtle color transition at the bottom. Generally speaking I’d aim to transition her image color from “white” to “white and blue” while making her design pop a little more.

For design changes of her head, I’d give her slightly longer hair and a bit more mature facial structure. Its been a year between the end of KH3 and Limitcut Episode, and she’s a teenager growing up in a RPG, so she’s grown out her hair with the intention of distancing her look from that reminiscent of Kairi. She is a different person from her original self after all and her look should assert that. Where Kairi’s KH3 look is over-the-top cute with a hint of a tomboyish aftertaste, I’d like Naminé‘s to be more distinctly feminine and cool with a conventionally Square Enix flavor. If more Kingdom Hearts characters wore hats, I’d even top it off with a navy blue witch’s hat. I go back and forth on that though, so maybe just in certain worlds conducive to headwear like Pirates of the Caribbean and Halloween Town. The series designs since KH1 have always had a bit of an overdesigned flavor, so I hope I mostly channeled that.

Anyways... Naminé should really be a Blue Mage. I think it’d work really well and I really think that after how much of an afterthought she was in KH3 that she gets a little more respect in future games. Also I’d really like her to be a party member. It’d be really nice to see her actually be a member of the group with her friends in more than just the game’s ending cutscene.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #kingdom hearts remind #naminé #thank naminé #namine #blue mage #thank namine #kingdom hearts chain of memories #final fantasy #keyblade #creative writing #not necessarily creative writing but this is how i tag things to keep it organized #disney #pirates of the caribbean #final fantasy xiv #square enix #monster girl

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aweebwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Trials of the Heart (H&F)

Warning: Blood, gore, dismemberment

___________

"It's finally spring!" Jay chirped flying out of the side of their cliff home, over the still iced over waters l along the fjord they called home.

"This winter was a little shorter than normal through." Cole says as he walked along the shore, finned tail flicking back and forth as he looked it over.

"By a few days." Kai agrees, perched on Cole's back. "Jay's happy about it so I am too." The Phoenix harpy grinned and Cole smiled a little.

"Alright. Off. I have to break up the ice for Nya then you do your thing." Cole told him and Kai nods, taking air and hovering there as he watched Cole rolled his shoulders.

He pushed himself up on his hind legs then slammed his front ones down, creating an earthquake to shatter the ice along the water.

"Show time." Kai grinned then flew over to Nya's side of the lake end of the fjord and gathered fire along his feathers and him his mouth, much like a dragon.

He then blew it out as he flew around, melting the ice on top and continuing still to warm the water up a bit.

"That should do it. She can swim out and about but the deeper portion of the water will be pretty cold." Kai says, coming to a hover over the water as Cole walked over to the iceless side of the lake area.

"It'll take a few weeks before it's warm enough for her. Skylor should be fine." Cole agrees. "Hey Jay, tell them the good news." He called out to the storm harpy that was doing loopty loops in the air.

"Gotcha!" Jay called out then pulled off a sharp dive then turned last minute, going into the side of the cliff.

"In the meantime, I'm gonna take a quick run to see if all the ice around the edges are broken up." Cole says, turning away.

"Alright." Kai says, watching him take off in a steady gallop.

"Kai!" Said Phoenix blinked at his name then looked towards the large chunks of ice on the colder side of the lake.

He spotted Zane once he raised a hand and waved. Kai chuckled as he flew over.

"Boy you really do blend in with the ice." Kai smiled as Zane slid up on a large chunk.

"Could you do me a favour?" Zane asked quickly and Kai frowned at his urgent tone.

"Sure. What is it?" Kai asked, flying closer to the mer, watching curiously as he held something to his chest then stretched his hand out to show Kai. "Oh. It's your gold. Do you need me to make it into something for you?" He asked, using his taloned foot to take it as he hovered still.

"Yeah. But it's something specific…" Zane says with a light blue flush in his cheeks that had Kai raising a brow.

"Well then… I'm all ears." Kai hummed, intrigued.

Cole on the other hand stood on the other side of the cliff facing, making it to the top rather easily. It gave him a higher view of the water below. It was all broken up. Much further down the channel still had ice but that would melt on its own soon. He turned around then galloped his way down the hill that made the cliff, enjoying the feeling of his hooves hitting the ground, the wind through his much longer hair. It's getting out of control. He should find some way to trim it but…

He thought back to all the times Zane kept running his class through the thick strands of his hair, an adoring look in his eyes. Well. If Zane liked it that much, he would keep it as is. He looked ahead curiously once he noticed Zane and Kai talking. They looked up to see him before Kai grinned and flew off.

"What's that all about?" Cole asked as he slowed to a trot.

"Nothing." Zane immediately dismissed then slid his way further on sure and Cole smiled, kneeling before him and cupping his cheeks.

"You're up to something. I can tell." Cole hummed and Zane only grinned, revealing sharp, pearly whites teeth.

"Maybe… But you're going to have to wait and see." Zane purrs, using his mate as support so he could reach his height.

"Ooooh. A surprise. I like the sound of that." Cole smiled, nuzzling his nose against Zane's as the mer purred happily.

"Good." Zane hummed before they both pressed their lips together, tongues coming into play right away.

Zane's black tongue slid against sharp fangs and further still to strong yet just as sharp molars that weren't that sharp before his change. While Cole had eaten other animals as a normal centaur, most of their diet was plants after all. Now, while Cole would enjoy kelp with him, he very much preferred meat and fish which made his newer, sharper teeth come in handy. On Cole's end, his light green tongue met rows of razor sharp teeth he had to be careful with. While Zane doesn't chew his food, he has this many teeth to allow him to latch on firmly to prey and puncture more lively fish and animals so thoroughly, if they somehow manage to get away, the bite alone is guaranteed to kill them. Their equally long tongues tangled together, their movements slow and savory. That is, until-

"Hey. It's too early for that." Nya called out and they pulled away from each other to blink at the warm water mer as she swum around stretching her fins.

"There's still a week tops before you two get rut brained." Skylor smirked as she allowed herself to float and both cold water mer and Kelpie flushed.

"You're one to talk." Cole huffed as Zane hid his face into his muscular chest, a low whine leaving him as he flicked his tail in embarrassment.

"Cool it. By then we're all slaves to instinct." Jay huffed as he arrived on scene, landing on the shore. "Really, if anyone should be making fun of anyone or complain, it's the Senseis and Lloyd." He says, sitting on the cold sand.

"Which is why we should make sure everything is in order for when they wake up." Kai says, arriving as well, perching next to his mate. "They can awaken at anytime during or after that time for us so let's start planning." He told them and they nodded.

"Alright. Anyone have any clue what waking dragons need?" Nya asked and there was all around silence.

"Boy do we have our work cut out for us…" Cole says drily.

___

"So food's obviously gonna be a thing on the list." Nya says, sitting on the shore with everyone else. "But we can't start stocking up too early and risk spoilage nor can we wait until it's too late and our instincts are mostly in control." She says, tapping a red claw against her arm.

"We start gathering in about 4 or 5 days instead then." Zane suggests and Nya nods.

"Fair enough. I'm just grasping at straws here but since the cold had put them to sleep to begin with, maybe some warmth will help them wake up." Cole suggested.

"So… We make them a fire?" Kai questions.

"That seems impractical since we don't know exactly when they're gonna wake up." Skylor pointed out.

"Well yeah, but they can all spark a fire on their own. Maybe we just leave them supplies to make it." Cole clarified and they paused to think on it.

"Not a bad idea." Jay nods, the others agreeing.

"Ok. Food and warmth. What else?" Nya asked them and they all paused to think.

"Oh! Water!" Jay spoke up with a grin.

"Of course." They huffed, facepalming.

"Alright. Food, warmth and water. Anything else they might need?" Cole listed off and they paused to think on it.

"No. I think that's about it." Kai says, crossing his singed arms.

"Alright. Then- huh?" Cole looked at Zane as he scented the air, eyes narrowed sharply.

Of all of them, Zane had the best sense of smell as he needed it for his time up north while hunting. He narrowed his eyes at the tree line, spines standing on edge along his back down his tail as a low hiss escaped him. That put all of them on guard. Zane's never reacted like this before, not even to the bear that attacked them during autumn. It must be an intruder.

"We'll take a look from above." Kai says seriously as Cole urged Zane in the water fully, just in case.

They took off once Nya nods, retreating to the water as well but still staying close to shore with Skylor. They had an advantage there after all. Soon, Cole could hear them approach and he snorts, dragging his hoof through the sand, ready to attack at any given time.

"I see them. it's just one creature." Jay says, sharp eyes spotting the figure as they keep coming directly towards them before his eyes widened once they walked through thinner coverage. "It's a-"

"Centaur?" Kai finished, surprised.

He wasn't the only one. Centaurs don't live this far up north naturally. Plus, there's a lot of hills and mountains rather than the plains centaurs prefer. Cole should know, he used to be one. That didn't make him any less wary though. Finally, they broke through the tree line and Cole blinked at the centaur that walked through. It wasn't anyone he's met before, that's for sure. She was a very light brown, almost blonde coloured centaur who's coat matched her wavy hair that spilled down her back. She looked around with wide hazel eyes then spotted Cole.

"Oh… You're a centaur…" She says, walking forwards slowly. "But also not?" She says, spotting his finned tail as it flicked back and forth warily.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Cole asked, getting right to it.

"Oh. I'm Mariah. I…" Tears filled her eyes. "I got separated from my herd. We were escaping hunters…" She whispered as tears fell down her cheeks.

"You're a long way from any nearby plains though." Jay says suspiciously as he swooped down to land.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to do since she reared up with a startled whinny then galloped towards Cole. He tensed, ready for an attack- only to blink when she held onto his arm tightly, whimpering against the back of his shoulder from her shorter statue. Cole… Didn't know what to make of this.

Zane on the other hand… He watched with wide eyes from the water as she held onto his mate's arm, burying her face into his mate's skin. He stared for a moment longer before he released a series of warning clicks and trills under the water that mimicked growls, the broken up ice solidifying again as he glared at the imposing female with icy venom.

"Cold!" Nya's yelp startled him out of his challenging stance.

He watched as both she and Skylor dove under the water before the surface stilled, solidifying into clear ice. His ear fins flattened when he realised that he was the cause.

"What happened Zane?" Cole asked, green eyes focused on him, the worry in them thawing the icy bitterness that took him just now.

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention." He apologised with a sheepish smile.

It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the whole truth. He just felt silly for reacting the way he has. Cole loves him and this outsider will be leaving anyways. Speaking of, she turned around to see him, seeing his intimidating teeth and claws then gave a shrieking whinny, shifting to bury her face into Cole's chest, trembling with her tail between her legs. Cole grimaced, looking down at the skittish girl then sighed. They couldn't just tell her to scram. It wasn't in their nature.

"Jay, could you and Kai look around to see if you can find any nearby centaurs?" Cole asked, looking across at him.

"Roger." Jay nods then took off, going after Kai who had remained hidden but only to ambush if necessary.

"You know that harpy?" Mariah asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

'Isn't that obvious?' Cole thought dryly. "Yeah. He's a friend. Don't worry. We'll find your herd." He says aloud and Mariah smiled widely.

"Thank you for your help!" She says happily, nuzzling against him and Zane sneered, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly as he narrowed glowing arctic blue eyes at her from the water.

For her sake, Kai and Jay better find her herd quickly.

________

"This is bad." Nya says from inside her pool in the cave.

"Yeah. Mariah's presence means that hunters have already mobilised and are closing in." Skylor says with a frown, keeping her company, her sealskin wrapped around Nya's neck to help keep her warm.

"That's bad but it's not what I meant." Nya says, glancing towards the obscure exit onto the beach. "I meant Mariah all but clinging to Cole like that." She clarified.

"Huh? But it's obvious he isn't interested in her." Skylor says with a frown.

"Yeah that may be true but not only has Zane never experienced a challenger who obviously wants to stake a claim, it's really close to that time of the year. You should know. Jealousy and instincts aren't the best mix." Nya says pointedly and Skylor's purple serpentine tail swung from side to side.

"True. Do you think he'll attack?" Skylor asked, resting her chin in her clawed hand.

"Definitely if Mariah keeps clinging to Cole like a parasite. It's just a matter of when." Nya says, nuzzling the warm seal skin around her neck. "I've never seen a cold water mer before Zane and I certainly haven't seen them hostile. I've heard that's when they're most fearsome." She whispered.

"... I've seen cold water mers before him. They aren't as social as Zane is. They're intimidating, even while not paying any creature any mind." Skylor says, recalling a brief trip she had some time ago further up north.

They were all pretty gray scale, varying from dark gray to light with barely visible flecks of colour. They were all pretty big too, not to say Zane was small. He was much bigger than Nya and herself after all. It's just… She slipped into the water, using her legs to tread as she brushed Nya's hair back. They've gotten so used to Zane, to how soft and kind he was. This would be a reminder that Zane is capable of more than they ever thought. Nya looked up at her with her clear blue eyes and she smiled softly, her purple serpentine tail coming around to wrap around Nya's tail. It'll be unfortunate but it might also be a good thing.

_________

Cole sat, completely annoyed on the shore, a hand crafted fire before him… And Mariah glued to his side, preventing him from going in the water and cuddling Zane in his arms, preventing him from watching his relaxed face as he slept soundly, brushing his fingers against his pale cheek…

"It's a pretty cold tonight, isn't it?" Mariah asked with a shiver but Cole couldn't feel it.

The cold didn't bother him at all and as far as he knew, heat is the same.

"I suppose." Cole says, trying not to let his annoyance bleed through into his voice.

He knew it wasn't her fault but dammit he can't leave her out here alone. Centaurs separated from a tightly knit herd go through separation anxiety. It has them searching endlessly for their herd or latch onto a new one- or any creature close to a centaur. It's what helps his former kind integrate into new herds. He frowns, looking out at the iced over water, at the small hole there that was just about large enough for a head to poke through.

This'll be the first time in over a year Zane would sleep by himself. That realisation didn't bode well with him. He hopes Zane would have patience, until Mariah was gone…

Zane on the other hand tried to talk himself down just below the ice. He was just so used to sleeping next to Cole, his body can't even fathom such a feat tight now. At least his species could go days without sleep and still be unaffected but it was a routine he had come to treasure and she was ruining it with her presence! A low warning trill escaped him as his spines flared wider slowly darkening as more of his blue blood pumped through them. He shook his head, trying to shake it off. He knows Cole loves him and would never pick her over him. Knows this more than anything. But the problem lies with that mare touching his mate. A low trill escaped him as he looked up towards the surface with ominously glowing blue eyes. He doesn't share.

____________

Morning came with no signs from Kai and Jay, giving the odd family reason to worry.

"They never take this long to come back…" Cole whispered, looking to the sky. "How long have you been wandering?" He asked the mare who was glued to his side still.

"I've lost track. A few days at least…" Mariah says quietly, pressing even closer and Cole grimaced realising that this might actually take longer than he'd expected.

She's out of luck come a few days. Whether she likes it or not, he'll be returning to the water to mate with his mate. Speaking of, he hasn't been able to see him since she got here. It was time he changed that.

"Wait here." He told her, getting to his hooves and walking towards the water.

"You'll come back, right?" She asked, eyes wide and tear filled.

"Yeah. Don't worry. In just a sec." Cole says, glancing over his shoulder at her then stepped onto the iced over lake.

"Are you sure?" She called out, figuring nervously.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Cole says, irritation blooming.

He doesn't want to be angry at her but he hasn't been able to hold his mate since she got-

"I'll come with you." She says as she got up, trotting over.

"No. You can't. I'm-"

The ice breaking the moment she stepped on it cut off Cole's explanation and she rested back at the ice cold water that splashed against her legs.

"C-Cold!" Mariah stuttered, backing up and Cole facepalmed.

What was this situation even?

"I- I'm sorry. I just… I just wanted to stay with you a little. Just until I can find my pack and I… I'm already such a burden…" She whispered, wiping her tears with the back of her hands and Cole felt a twinge of guilt.

He looked out to the ice, seeing barely visible eyes of glowing blue there, watching their movements.

"Sorry Zane. Maybe later on." Cole says softly then walked out of the water, missing when it immediately froze over. "You're shivering. Let's head back. I'll build another fire." He says, reaching a hand down to help her up.

Mariah sniffled then nodded, taking his hand, not letting it go as she followed alongside him. The temperatures took a steep dip then, frost building up along the bark of the trees. Cole turned back to the frozen body of water once he heard something. It was more like low vibrations coming from the water. He shook it off. He must have been hearing things.

_____

Zane decided the best way to push these feelings back was contact with his mate. A kiss even. Just the thought had him perking up as he used his claws to cut himself a hole so he could pop up through. He pulled himself out of the water partially, his tail still mostly in the hole as he looked around. He perked up even more seeing Cole return from a round of hunting.

"Cole!" Zane called out grinning once his Kelpie mate perked up at his voice and smiled widely, seeing him waiting for him.

He dropped the rabbits he caught and galloped towards the ice- but Zane just wasn't allowed to have good things while Mariah was around, was he?

"Oh? That's your name?" Mariah asked, intercepting his path to him. "I'm sorry. I should have asked earlier. I must seem so insensitive now." She apologized as Zane's happiness faded.

"It's fine. I just have to-"

"So rabbits co-" Mariah had cut Cole off, only to he cut off herself once she ends up tripping on something partially buried in the sand, leaving her to yelp and fall against Cole, both of them ending up on the ground, Mariah half across Cole. "I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy! Are you ok?!" She asked him, sitting in her haunches as Cole sat up, trying not to let his irritation show.

"I'm fine." Cole says quietly.

He looked at the ice once he heard a silent splash, only to find both Zane and the hole gone, as if they never were. Cole didn't like that. It didn't sit well with him how he just took off. He stood then paused once he realised something. Another breath out turned to fog as the temperature plummets further.

"W-w-wow. It g-g-got so c-c-cold all of a sudden." Mariah stuttered, getting to her hooves as she rubbed her bare arms. "It's snowing…" She whispered and Cole looked up seeing the snow drifting down from the pale blue sky.

This was… Abnormal. Cole looked to the frozen solid lake. Was this… Was this Zane's doing?

"Mariah. Head inside the cave." Cole told her and she looked at him wide eyed.

"B-b-"

"Would you rather freeze to death before you ever see your herd again?" Cole asked her, clipped and blunt, unphased as more tears filled her eyes.

"N-no…" She says, looking down then fiddling with her hands.. "It's just…"

Cole straightened, hearing something from the lake, calling him, beaconing him to come. No doubt it was Zane.

"Wait!" Mariah says, grabbing his arm and Cole turned around to finally snap at her, only to find her lips pressed against his.

Meanwhile, it was all Zane could do to control himself. His mind was filled with dark, gruesome things, claws ready to inflict critical damage, teeth itching to sink and rip into flesh. He tried breathing in slowly through his gills, trying to calm his rushing pulse, trying to grasp at control that was slipping through his webbed hands like sand. Logic knows what's best bit instincts are so much stronger, so much harder to fight. He knew if he let it take over, he would take a life. He didn't want to be that kind of mer, didn't want to prove the stereotypes of his kind right. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to prevent his body from preparing to fight, to maim. His mind was a mess. Emotions, logic and instincts all clashing, overlapping. He needed to calm down, needed to escape the source of his dilemma but he couldn't. He refused. He wouldn't leave Cole alone with her . He didn't trust her. Wouldn't trust her. Not with his mate.

He needed, he needed… He lowered his hands from his face, ignoring the blackness of his claws that now extended past his wrist, ignoring the blue of his fins filled with so much of his blue blood, they looked black ignoring the light blue specks of his body that also took on that same colour. He needed his mate. He needed Cole.

A reverberating croon left him as he called for his mate, calling him to come to him. He's the only one that can quiet the storm in his mind right now. It only occurred to him after a moment that it would be hard to hear under thick ice. He swam up then used his tail to break a large portion of the ice before pushing himself up, ready to restart his calls- only to see Mariah with her lips on his mate's.

That was the last straw. Emotions and mainly instincts won, the whites of Zane's eyes turning dark as he gave a hiss of outrage. They turned towards him but Zane was cutting through the ice like it wasn't there, eyes screaming murder as he locked onto the one who dare challenged him.

"Zane?" Cole whispered, stepping back without realising, getting whiplash from the constant flow of shock.

This Zane looks so different. So much wilder… Deadlier…

"Woah! Shit!" Mariah yelled once Zane ricocheted out of the water, coming directly at her.

She then did something that startled Cole: she teleported out of Zane's line of attack.

"That was close." She sighed once Zane collided with the beach but he still looked fearsome and clearly wasn't about to back down anytime soon.

"... How did you do that?" Cole asked quietly, eyes narrowed in suspicion and Mariah looked at him surprised, realising that she blew her cover before she huffed.

"Damn. Ah well. This was boring anyway." Mariah says and Cole's eyes widened as her centaur form faded away to a completely humane one.

But that along with her teleportation was a clear sign she wasn't a regular human. She was most likely a witch whom were worse than hunters. They hunted just like the humans did but they keep their catch for their essence, adding it to their spells and potions. Essence is the very source of what made a creature who the are and they use the essence from parts of whatever unfortunate creature they manage to capture until they have no more left, until they're nowhere close to the creature they used to be. Essence is strongest with intense feelings as well... Like pain. Death in the end is the only mercy they receive from their capture.

Considering this witch was able to shapeshift and teleport, it was unfortunate that Wu and Garmadon are asleep. Considering the fact that they are asleep and vulnerable, they had to protect them. But Nya and Skylor are too vulnerable to the cold. Kai and Jay are gone too. Zane is… Cole looked past her at his seething black and blue eyed mate. Zane… He spotted a flash of light then jumped back out of the way, Mariah holding a cruel smile on her face.

"Eyed on me loverboy. No more daydreaming." She smirked as her hands glowed. "And to think such a rare sight like you would be more than interested in a fair centaur maiden, just before breeding season, hmm? Though it's peculiar. My love spell hasn't been working at all, no matter how many times I've casted it though touch. I've even gone as far to actually kiss you. My spells always work. Explain this, creature." She sneered, raising a hand towards him threateningly.

"Love spell?" Cole whispered, eyes wide.

It must be because he's already in love with Zane! No time for that. He needed to get rid of her before she does something terrible. But how? His earth powers can only do so much!

"Nevertheless, Kelpie are a truly rare and powerful source of both spiritual and water essence and I plan on taking you with me." She grinned then yelled as she shot a beam of her magic at him and Cole three his hands up to block- but it never landed.

Cole blinked then looked over his arms, eyes wide to see a wall of ice it seems before him. But this ice was different, darker.

"You pesky fish!" Mariah yelled and Cole's eyes widened.

Zane!

Cole was quick to round the ice, seeing Mariah distracted with attacking Zane, his ice blocking her attacks.

"I'll slit your neck and bleed you dry when I'm done with you!" She yelled at him and Cole narrowed his eyes.

He turned around then put his weight on his front hooves and used his back legs to slam into her back, leaving her to tell as the momentum flung her onto the iced over lake, the impact of her landing cracking the ice. Zane moved like a viper in the grass, sliding back into the water quickly, the small hole in the ice freezing over instantly. Cole watched Mariah from the shore as she slowly got up with a groan, bracing himself for what was to come next. Then it happened. Mariah screamed as she found herself high in the air, ice, water and Zane trailing after her mid air from his jump. Cole didn't flinch seeing Zane's sharp teeth sink into her exposed neck, his claws digging into her flesh as he dropped back into the water with her, disappearing under the surface, ice immediately reforming afterwards.

Zane spun as he dragged her deeper into the water, then pulled away with the chunk of her neck he had bitten into. She immediately brought her hands to her heavily bleeding throat as she began to both drown and bleed to death but Zane wasn't done yet. Not even close. He hissed as he swam in, clamping on her arm, shaking her violently until it ripped off. He immediately closed his strong jaw around the other, digging his claws into her flesh to keep her steady as he ripped it off as well. He hissed at her pale, lifeless face then unhinged his jaw for the final blow. He closed his teeth around the entirety of her neck then ripped it free from her body, spitting it out in disgust then sneered at her remains.

On shore, Cole saw nothing for a few seconds after Zane disappeared below but then the ice under the water began to turn red. He stood there as it sunk in.

Zane just killed someone.

Cole pressed his lips together before they stretched in a smile. He was oddly proud. He had concerns if Zane had enough of a heart to do it if his life was at risk. He forgot that Zane was perhaps the most deadly of them all. It made him even more proud to call Zane his mate.

"Cole!" The centaur looked up once Jay's voice caught his ears, sewing him a moment after flying quickly towards him.

He landed before him, sending icy sand kicking up in the air.

"Mariah is-"

"A witch?" Cole says, cutting him off and confusing Jay.

"Yeah! But how'd you know?" Jay asked, confused.

"She gave herself away. But we don't have to worry about her ever again." Cole says, smiling as he looked out to the lake.

"How come? Hey why is the lake re-" Jay cut himself off when everything pieced together.

"Holy shit." Kai says, arriving then as well. "I mean, I should have known with Zane being a cold water mer but damn." He says, landing next to them, holding a large gold circlet in hand.

Cole looked at it confused.

"Hey, where'd you find that?" Cole asked him and Kai looked at the solid gold band in hand.

"Oh this? It's actually yours." Kai says, tossing it to him. "Zane asked me to make it for you. It's a permanent accessory so whenever you're ready, I'll melt the gold shut for good." He says with a smirk as Cole looked over the details in the circlet in awe.

That was clearly them along the middle. Zane on one side and him on the other, their tails laced together on the back and them sharing a kiss on the front. Cole's heart warmed as he smiled at it. It was gorgeous.

"Oh. We've brought company by the way." Kai added and Cole glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening to see two familiar figures.

"Where's the witch?" Ronin asked, glancing up at them from under his conical hat as he walked on shore.

"By now? The Departed Realm." Jay says, gesturing to the lake.

"Woah. Zane did that?" Dareth asked surprised, his head cocked to the side. "Jeeze. I didn't think he had it in him." He says with a grimace.

A section of the ice on the lake collapsed suddenly and the group blinked once a darker blue tail tossed out two arms, a torso and a head, all covered in frost. Kai whistled low.

"Remind me not to piss Zane off." Jay says with a grimace.

Cole was more focused on Zane, watching the mer watch him with only his hair and eyes visible. The cold water mer gave a beaconing croon and Cole gave the circlet back to Kai.

"Hold onto this for me." He humbled then walked towards the water, his eyes focused on his mate.

He didn't care about the lingering blood that gave the water a pink tinge. He only cared about Zane. Cole stood there, face to face with Zane, noticing that he still looked so wild, so dangerous with his gorgeous blues replaced with deadly blacks, his glowing eyes standing our even more when framed by black… But he didn't mind at all. He reached out and cupped Zane's cheek gently, stroking his thumb against his skin. Zane purred, leaning into his touch with closed eyes as Cole smiled softly. They both moved, their lips pressing together as they clutched at each other, missing this, missing each other. With a flick of Cole's tail, they both disappeared below the water.

"Awww. A happy ending." Jay cooed next to Kai as Ronin inspected the remains next to them.

"She mostly bled out but there should still be enough for a decent meal." He murmured to himself, ignoring the arms and head, going straight for the body.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Dareth asked eagerly as he watched his partner bare his fangs.

Ronin paused, glancing over at the half werewolf with wide brown eyes, watching his ears perk up as his tail wagged eagerly. Ronin only huffed and tossed him the closest arm, Dareth catching it in his mouth.

"Wouldn't want you to go hungry. You're annoying when you get all whiny." Ronin huffed with a small smirk, his red eyes glinting.

"While you guys do your thing, I'm gonna check up on Nya." Kai says, walking away.

"I'll come with!" Jay chirps, following after him.

The mercenary and his pet partner watched them go before returning their attention to the all expenses paid meal left for them.

"Well. Bon appétit." The vampire murmured then sank his fangs into the shoulder of the corpse, draining her until the raw wounds she had turned pink, unphased by the audible cracking of bone next to him.

Since they ran into them while tracking down that witch, he'll stick around… If only until after the full moon...

_____________

(Hey! Here we are! Zane is soft boi so it was time to shake things up a bit. Also! Next H&F piece will focus on Cole's powers! Because he does have them. It might take a few other elemental visitors for him to see it though. Who knows! CI is up next so see you when that's done!)

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name-me-regret · 5 years ago

Text

Saving Grace - Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Squished Sandwiches Summary: James Barnes meets the anomaly that is Peter Parker... Prompt 8: Candy bars; pennies; books Read it on AO3.

- - - -

”Sometimes I have these thoughts What happened to kicking back the dawn? And I've started fighting wars with myself But what's so fun about a party of one?

I stand tall When they want me to fall I don't care what my peers say I'm gonna do this my way.

My way...”

-Stand Tall - Social Repose

- - - -

James's hair had grown out in the time that he had been on the street. It was well past his shoulders, and he would be the first one to admit that it wasn't regulation length at all. Then he would shake his head and remember that he wasn't a soldier anymore. His time spent as Sergeant James Barnes was over, and he couldn't even be certain if he was Bucky either, Steve Rogers's Army buddy.

He had never really referred to himself as that, since it was a nickname he'd acquired as a child, and everyone had just called him that. He could say with certainty that he wouldn't miss the nickname, since it sounded like the nickname of a douchebag.

He might have been biased, but it wasn't too bad living on the streets, especially when it came to begging for money. As morbid as it sounded, not having one arm caused people to be a bit extra generous to him; for they pitied him.

On good days he even got enough to buy at least five hotdogs at the street vendor. And on bad days, he could barely afford one. It was a good thing that the specific vendor he bought from accepted even the pennies that he sometimes came with. The people usually tossed coins into his old beat-up, red leather suitcase he had found in the dumpster once when he'd been dumpster diving. It reminded him of those old suitcases from the 30s or forties, and he had liked it so had taken it and after fixing the latch with some difficulty due to have one arm, it had worked perfectly. It was beat up and cracked on the surface, but it was still a good suitcase and served him for carrying his meager belongings.

He was able to tear open the lining on the inside of it, and that’s where he kept the small amount of money he’d saved up for emergencies. It was stabled discreetly closed, and while he only had $22, it was something at least. James had had $17, but had found a crumpled five dollar bill. There was no one that appeared looking for it, so he’d kept it.

There was one he had actually gotten a $20. It wasn’t found on the street, since his luck wasn’t that good, in his opinion. During a particular bad day, the winter months were fast approaching and it had been drizzling freezing rain, but James had refused to move from his spot until he could at least buy a hotdog. It had been at least two days since any real bit of food, just a nibble of leftovers here and there, and the hunger seemed to claw at his stomach that he was nauseous with it.

James was sure no one would stop to give a beggar anything when it was so miserable out, and he was prepared to go find some shelter somewhere and curl up, ignoring the hunger as best as he could. Then a shadow had fallen over him as the rain stopped falling on his head. He’d looked up from his position on the sidewalk, his spine and ass hurting something fierce from having been sitting on the concrete for so long.

She had short curly hair blue-green hair and was slightly over-weight, but her face was pretty and she was smiling as she handed him a scrap of paper. “God Bless you,” she murmured, a rainbow umbrella in her hand keeping the rain off of them both. She handed him her floppy straw hat she was wearing, which went well with her white and beige strapless dress and black leather jacket over that. “It’ll keep the rain off you a bit,” she explained.

Then she turned and walked off with nothing more than a wave, James watching her as she went, her black rain boots coming up just past her calves as they splashed through the puddles on the side walk. He turned back to the scrap of paper she’d given him, using the straw hat to keep the rain off it. It was a note written in messy handwriting. ‘I’ve been there before. It will get better.’ There was the acronym F.E.A.S.T., and an address in Chinatown. ’A descent shelter.’

There had also been $20 folded up with the note.

James had thanked the young woman, even if she was long gone, used the money to get him a cheap meal, and pocketed the rest of the $15.46. Then he had gone looking for this FEAST place, and it was more than descent. That night, James slept in the first bed since he’d run away from the hospital.

He’d managed to stay there for two and a half weeks. Then his PTSD had acted up when someone had shaken him awake, shoving the other person to the floor. It could have been worse and the man hadn’t been injured besides a scrape to the hand, but he had grabbed his stuff and moved on before he hurt anyone else.

That first winter was the worse, having little experience on how to survive on the streets with little to no shelter most nights. James was sure he would die some nights as he lay shivering in a cardboard box that had likely held a refrigerator at one point and now served to keep the wind off him. His breath rattled in his throat and it was just after New Years that he stumbled into a free clinic, hoping they’d help him instead of turning him away.

They did help him, giving him a strong cocktail of medicines that would fight off the infection in his lungs. When he woke, he’d realized someone had even trimmed his facial hair and washed his hair. He also saw that they’d figured out his name somehow, likely from what he had had on him.

James had found his possessions in the drawers and his clothes in the cabinets, looking like someone had made a valiant effort to wash them. He’d put them on after unhooking himself from the mostly empty saline bag, and snuck out before Steve found him.

He was very sure that Steve was looking for him, having heard a rumor of a blonde man looking for someone in the shelters, asking questions. The people on the streets always looked suspiciously on anyone asking questions, since that usually meant cop. James had heard the description and knew immediately that it was childhood friend, and that the punk was looking for him.

James thought he should go back to his own life and leave him lost. After all, he was much too damaged to be of any good to anyone.

It was late Spring when things changed, having been months on the street by that point. The nights still got cold, so he was grateful for his large jacket, which he’d gotten from the Salvation Army. It had been missing two buttons and had a hole in one of the front pockets that was visible on the front side of it, and likely the reason it had been donated.

It was very warm, and was grateful for it during those cold winter days. However, it was starting to get warm during the daytime, and besides not having bathed in over two weeks, he was starting to add to his stench by sweating out of his coat. That’s how he wound up in the ATM kiosk on 21st street in Queens, since it was air conditioned. It was starting to get dark so there was hardly people on the street, but the sandwich place across the street looked to be open.

His stomach grumbled in hunger, not having ate at all that day, and he’d been run off by the employees of a fast food place. He’d just wanted to use the bathroom to try and wash up. The manager had stopped him and told him the bathrooms were for paying customers. When he’d gotten out his bag of pennies and other coins, intending to buy something off the dollar menu at least, since he was hungry, they’d refused him service due to his unkempt state of dress.

So, with a sigh, he’d stuffed his coins away and shuffled out of the building, some entering customers giving him a wide berth. He tried not to let their looks of disgust hurt, but he was only human. It started drizzling the moment he stepped out of the restaurant, but only lifted his face so it could soak into his scruffy beard and the little bit of his face not covered in hair.

It was late spring, practically summer already, so the water hitting the hot asphalt evaporated almost immediately, creating a bit of mist that swirled around his legs as he walked. He passed by the sandwich shop, but hurried past as the smell of meat and fresh bread cooking made him almost sick with how hungry he was.

As he wedged himself between an ATM machine and the glass wall of the bank kiosk, he took a moment to take stock of his state. His hair was longer than when he’d been at the free clinic, and his facial hair had grown all out of control again. He looked a mess, and couldn’t really blame them for having run him off. He knew he probably didn’t smell that great either.

“Hey, what’re ya doing in here, bum?” a man entering the kiosk sneered at him. The man’s face was twisted into an ugly expression that James knew very well having lived on the streets these last few months. It spoke of cruelty and enjoyment at another’s pain and suffering. So, James decided to leave.

When he tried, the man blocked his way. “People like you are a stain on society. Too lazy to work,” he growled, shoving him against the wall of the kiosk. He was shorter but stockier than James, but the veteran was use to slouching to make himself look as small as possible. Also, James was weak from no food and little sleep to fight him off. There was also his lack of an arm.

“You probably have money in there,” he said as he made a grab for his suitcase. James snarled and yanked it back, pushing at his chest with his shoulder to dislodge him but he was sturdy.

“Help!” someone yelled, and both men turned to look across the street. There were hardly any cars at the hour, rush hour having been almost two hours ago, so they saw a scrawny kid that was waving around the corner. “Over here, Officer! Someone needs help!” Now he was pointing toward them.

James’s attacker swore, shoved the one armed man once more before he left, pushing through the door and sprinting away as soon as he was outside. As for James, he slid down with a sigh of relief, but then realized that he also had to get out of here before the cop showed up and he was arrested for vagrancy.

The door opened and he tensed, thinking it was the cop, but relaxed only slightly when he saw it was the kid. He grit his teeth as he hurried over toward him, body stiffening defensively. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, brown eyes wide behind his large, black framed glasses.

James was sure the kid was close enough to smell his stench, but he didn’t make a face and only looked at him with a worried expression. He was also close enough for James to see that he couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen at the most.

Instead of answering, he started to get up before that cop caught up with him. “Hey, hey, take it easy buddy,” he squeaked, much too bold for someone so tiny. James finally managed to stand up straight. “Whoa, you’re big!”

“Get lost, kid,” he grunted gruffly, wincing at how rough his voice sounded. James didn’t remember the last time he’d spoken, much less had a real conversation with someone. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken with someone without worrying that they found him disgusting, or perhaps mentally wishing he’d go away. “Before the cop shows up.”

The boy blinked in confusion before he seemed to realize what he meant. “Oh, there’s no cop,” he said with a grin on his face. “I just yelled that to get that guy to leave you alone, and it worked!” he crowed proudly, bouncing a bit in excitement. He obviously thought it was a great accomplishment.

“Thanks,” James could only mutter, moving past him. He left the cool temperature of the ATM kiosk and moved across the street, any traffic having all but vanished, and walked past the sandwich shop. James sighed as he heard the scrape of sneakers behind him and turned with a scowl, finding the stupid kid following him. “What d’you want?”

The kid had stopped as soon as James had turned to look at him, and now he shifted nervously. “So, uh... are you okay? I mean, do you need help?” James could see the concern in his bambi brown eyes, that and worry. “Oh, I know!” he suddenly exclaimed, turning and rushing off. He stopped, hurried back. “Just wait, okay? I’ll be right back,” he told him, hands lifting as if he could make James stay right there until he returned. Then he ran off again back the way they’d just come.

James rolled his eyes at the dumb kid’s request and turned to leave, but then stopped. He growled at himself as he hesitated walking away, since he didn’t know this kid. It was just... it’d been so long since anyone had willingly spoken to him without making a face of disgust, and there hadn’t even been a single indication of malicious intent in this kid’s face. Even so, he was frustrated with himself for not leaving just because he didn’t want the teenager to be disappointed to find James gone when he came back, and something told him that he would return.

So, he ducked into the alleyway next to him, plopping down on an empty crate that groaned under his weight but held fast. He leaned against the filthy wall, not at all worried about dirtying up his coat, since it was already pretty dirty. He hugged himself with his one arm and closed his eyes, his chin against his chest.

He didn’t even remember dozing off. “Mister, are you dead?” James was jerked awake by the voice, lifted his hands to ward off an attack, forgetting that he only had one arm so he probably looked crazed. Then he realized the voice was slightly familiar and he blinked a few times before turning, seeing the teen about two feet away from him, clutching two items wrapped in white paper of some kind. He was watching him with those wide doe eyes.

James was hungry enough to smell that the wrapped packages were food of some kind and his stomach growled from intense hunger, making the kid jump. “Oh, good! I thought you’d died or something,” he said with a shaky laugh, his hold tight where he was clutching the food. James was a bit baffled at how this kid could be worried someone he didn’t know had died in his sleep, which James had unfortunately seen more than once this past winter.

“You’re squishing your food, kid,” he pointed out.

He seemed confused by his words as he looked at the wrapped packages. “No, they’re already smooshed. That’s how I like my sub, and with extra pickles.” He held out what he now knew to be a squished sub to James with an earnest smile. “Here, you’re going to love it,” he chirped. His enthusiasm faded a bit as James looked up at him suspiciously instead of taking the sub.

“What d’ya want? I ain’t got anything to exchange for the food.” He’d never gotten anything for free, and didn’t trust when someone tried to give him something. It always came with strings attached and conditions of some kind. The kid’s clothes were not new or expensive, and were well worn. The jacket tied around his waist was frayed at the edges, and the sneakers looked to have seen better days. He was small for his age and thin, and looked younger due to the glasses that were too big for his face. James was well acquainted with poverty, having grown up in the poor part of Brooklyn, and he could tell this kid wasn’t exactly swimming in cash.

The kid’s head tilted in confusion. “What? I don’t want anything.” He offered the sub to him again, and it was the hunger and the close proximity of the food that made him finally take it. The boy, for whatever reason, was being earnest, so for now he would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Listen, I gotta get home, but will you be here again tomorrow?” He’d put the second sub, wrapped in a bag, into his backpack.

James had already started to eat his, uncaring about proper manners as he tore into the sandwich. He was going for his next bite when he spoke, eyeing the other suspiciously. “Why? You gonna bring more food?” It wasn’t what he should be asking, since he should ask if he was planning on calling the cops on him. But he wanted to ask about the food because he was hungry, and if this kid was providing it, then who was he to refuse?

“Sure, if you want?” he muttered. Then he looked at his phone and panicked. “Shit, I gotta go! See you later, mister!” The teenager ran out of the alleyway, leaving James wondering what had just happened. Also, he realized that he had forgotten to ask his name.

“Weird kid,” he mumbled, biting into the surprisingly tasty smooshed sub.

- - - -

True to his word, the teen had returned with another sub, or at least, half of one. It seemed he bought one large sub (his usual order, and geez how much did this kid eat?) and had the sandwich maker cut it in half and wrap it individually. The second time he’d came with two packets of gummy words and two colas, both of which he offered to James. As for James, he had grunted a thanks and took them without hesitation, and any other time he’d have been too proud to take it. Well, hunger certainly changed his perspective on certain things, such as pride.

It had been a week now, and James hadn’t gone far from this general area since the promise of food was a strong one, even if it were once a day. Also, when it got dark, he could sneak into the bank kiosk and there were few people that entered during the night, so he had a cool place to sleep during most nights. If anyone came in, there was a light out in the furthest corner of the room, and thus most people didn’t see him. He was glad he hadn’t been seen and then have them call the cops on him, since that meant he wouldn’t be able to come back and that meant most likely not seeing the kid anymore.

He didn’t know when James had stopped minding the kids presence, who, he was not so surprised, liked to talk. The kid could go on and on most days while James listened. Thus far he’d learned that he went to a nerd school in Queens and that he would be a freshman in high school this fall. He was fourteen but already he was designing a medical webbing, and that it had landed him a summer internship at Stark Industries. It would start as soon as the school year finished, which was in a week’s time.

He’d told James that it was just him and his aunt. He’d gone strangely quiet after that statement, and James had caught him staring at the ground morosely and had decided not to ask about it. In fact, James didn’t talk much and left the talking to Peter, which he had discovered was his name; Peter Parker who lived with his aunt, May Parker.

“So, I’m not really sure if this thing-“

“Why do you keep coming here,” James cut into what he was talking about. Peter had shut up as soon as he had spoken, since it was rare for James to speak that he tended to listen more attentively when he did speak.

Peter pursed his lips as he looked down with that same look he had when he had mentioned it only being him and his aunt. The sandwich was forgotten in his hand, half eaten compared to James’s finished one, but he had been alternating a bite of it in between every few sentences. Peter shrugged at last before he spoke.

“I mean, I have Ned.. you remember I told you about Ned?” James grunted an affirmative, since with how much the kid babbled, of course he knew about Peter’s best friend. Ned was Peter’s only friend, actually. James was sure he knew more of their friendship and LEGO projects than anyone else besides the kid’s aunt. They planned on joining the Decathlon and robotics club next fall, and he had a bit of a crush on a girl named Liz.

“Well, he’s going to go on trip with his family the day after summer vacation starts, so he rushes home. Even if I’ve never left New York, I’m not jealous or anything, and I’m excited for him. He’s going to get to see the Grand Canyon and he promised to bring me some rocks from the very bottom.” He paused as he bit his bottom lip, adjusting his glasses in what Bucky had come to identify as a nervous tick. “It’s just that, my aunt’s at work and with Ned so busy, I’m mostly by myself... I don’t like being by myself, you know?”

James could certainly understand what he meant, since he hated being by himself, but it was better at times to be by himself. That way he wouldn’t hurt anyone if he had an episode, and there was less of a worry that he would be stabbed in his sleep for his things. James had learned to become a light sleeper since he’d started to live on the streets.

“That’s a lot of words just to say you’re lonely,” he pointed out, amused as Peter turned red. He crumpled his wrapper and tossed it toward the dumpster, but it was too far away and the wrapper didn’t make it in. “I’m not the best company for a kid to have. I’m a bum that could have robbed you, or worse.”

Peter squinted at him. “Bold of you to assume I have money,” he told him.

James huffed, trying not to smile in amusement. “You forgot the ‘or worse’ part.” He would never harm the kid, had even become fond of him, but he didn’t want him to go trying to befriend someone else. The next person might not be as nice as James. He’d hate to see the boy get hurt.

The teen shrugged. “I wouldn’t care either way.” His hand went immediately to his mouth, leading James to believe that he hadn’t meant to say that.

James’s eyes narrowed on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter jumped up. “I gotta go! Bye!” He rushed off before James could stop him, not stopping even as the one armed man called him back. Although James snorted in amausement when Peter stopped to pick up the crumpled wrapper before tossing it in the trash and then hurrying off again.

“Little shit,” he grumbled. Then he looked where he’d been sitting and noticed that he had re-wrapped his half finished sub and left it on the crate he’d been sitting on. James shook his head but took it anyways, having no qualms about eating the boy’s leftovers. He couldn’t afford to be picky these days.

- - - -

James frowned when he lifted his gaze to see the sun disappearing behind the buildings, pulling out a battered wristwatch from his pocket. It was missing one of it’s leather straps but still worked even if the face was cracked. The time read 7:45pm, and he was sure the sun would set soon. However, he hadn’t seen a single sign of the kid and he usually got there around 4pm, since he had his internship in the mornings now that summer had started, and damnit if James wasn’t worried at his absence. He had been worried since yesterday after the statement he’d made, having felt a chill at the words.

He hoped the kid wasn’t suicidal or anything, since he couldn’t even care for himself, never mind worrying for a strange kid that brought him food every day. It wasn’t even a sub every single day, since at times he came with four wrapped hotdogs from the hot dog stand that James liked. The kid had good taste.

It wasn’t even about the food by this point, since he generally enjoyed listening to Peter speak to him like he was a normal human being and not some dirty, homeless man. So, he was feeling restless the more time went by without any sign of Peter. He was contemplating going and searching for him when he heard flapping wings and the shrieking of some birds.

Peter hurried into the alleyway then, carrying a birdcage of all things. “Hey!” Peter gasped as he stopped and set the cage on the crate, doubling over to catch his breath.

“What is that?” James asked, mouth twisted in a frown. He knew what it was, since it appeared to be a bird cage with three parakeets inside. One was green, the second was a light blue that was almost white, and the third was blue.

Peter grinned, pushing back the glasses up his nose. “Oh! I found them!” He peered inside the cage as he watched the birds sort of fly from one perch to the other a bit before the green and light blue one started to groom one another. “They were sitting next to a dumpster! Can you believe it? Who’d throw birds away?”

James did believe it, since when people moved and they weren’t allowed pets, they found it easier to toss them aside instead of finding a home for them. He’d seen many dogs be left by a car, or a cat, and one time a gerbil. The poor thing had been eaten quickly by a pack of alley cats before he could even think of trying to save it. It never stood a chance.

“What’re you going to do with them?” James asked, having a bad feeling as he saw Peter give him a look. “No... there’s no way.” Peter’s lips puckered into a pout. “Hell no.”

- - - -

James grumbled as the chirping birds wouldn’t let him sleep, laying underneath his usual cardboard box. The blanket he usually used to cover himself was used as a makeshift mattress, it was a warm night and with his coat on it was almost unbearable. Although, what was unbearable right now was the chirping of the birds and how they wouldn’t let him sleep, and he was seconds away from reaching inside and killing the damn things.

Only, he knew he couldn’t do that, because Peter had seemed so excited over the birds, even if he couldn’t keep them at his apartment because they weren’t allowed. So, that’s why they were here with James, and not with Peter. He should have refused, however, but the kid had a secret weapon, the sweetest puppy dog eyes that made James melt faster than an ice cream on a hot summer day.

So, when the sky lightened, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Peter showed up earlier than most days, since he had his internship in the mornings. Then he remembered that it was Saturday and he had the whole day free. “I got this book from the public library,” he said with a grin as he took out a book.

The cover had a color picture of a green parakeet and the title read ‘Budgies: A Guide to Caring for Your Parakeet’ and it was by a woman named Angela Davids. He sat down on his usual crate, flipping through the book which had colorful pictures of birds. “Wow, I never knew birds could be so pretty,” he said as he turned to book so he could see the page he was looking at. It was page twelve and it was a picture of five parakeets of varying colors resting on a branch, but it was hard to tell whether it was birds in the wild, or an artificial enclosure.

“Did you know they’re in the parrot family?” Peter asked, shaking his head. “I didn’t know that.” He flipped to the page that detailed their eating habits. “Let’s see, it says here they feed on ripe and ripening seeds. Well, duh. I wanna make sure nothing is poisonous to them.”

James was sure he was talking more to the book than him, but he didn’t mind as he looked at the birds to see them roosting, and his mouth twisted in distaste. He reached over and tapped the cage, startling the sleeping birds as they flapped their wings to fly up to the small swing on top of the cage.

“Stop it,” Peter laughed, “leave them alone.”

James snorted. “These little beasts didn’t let me sleep last night, and payback is a bitch,” he said as he hit the cage once more. He froze as Peter smacked him with the paperback, all his muscles tensing as if in anticipation of stopping himself from a reaction. After a moment, he realized that he was fine, and was surprised when he didn’t feel the need to lash out. As for the teen, he didn’t seem to notice as he kept flipping through the book without really reading it.

“This doesn’t say if there’s anything that’s poisonous to them,” he sighed, closing the book with a snap.

James cleared his throat when Peter looked at him curiously. “You didn’t even read it all the way through. I thought you were supposed to be smart or something, yet you can’t even read through a book properly.”

Peter made a face. “I like books... its just that I prefer science and physics books.” He flapped the book in his hand toward him. “This is boring to me.”

James rolled his eyes and snatched the book out of his hand. “Fine, I’ll read it, but you have to make sure to research what’s poisonous and bring it it’s food. I’m not exactly swimming in money here.”

The teenager grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get it and... oh, they’re probably thirsty!” He pulled off his backpack and from it he pulled a water bottle. “They have a water dish inside their cage,” he explained as he uncapped it and leaned forward, opening the small opening next to the water bowl and filling it up.

“So, have you thought of names for them?”

Peter shook his head, watching attentively as they flew down and started to drink the water. “Nah, but I’ll think of something.”

James rapped on the cage where the green one was. “You could name this one Jade,” he suggested.

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Nah, that’s too generic. There’s probably hundreds of green parakeets named Jade.”

“What about Blu for the dark blue one?”

Peter laughed. “Like the movie?” When James nodded, he shook his head. “No way, that’s too boring and unimaginative. I’ll think of something cool. Maybe research bird legends or something,” he murmured, pulling out his phone and starting the search.

As he did that, James amused himself by making them fly back and forth in the cage. They’d likely eventually trust him, but for now they seemed frightened of him. Then he realized that he assumed he’d be around the birds long enough for them to get use to him and sighed. Damn it.

After almost half and hour of silence between the two humans, the parakeets not so quiet as they chirped their song, Peter lifted his head. “I got it!” He turned his phone, the screen impossibly cracked, so James could see it.

“Avalerion is a term for a heraldic bird.” James snorted. “It says here that they were also eagles. This is no eagle, it’s a parakeet.”

Peter shrugged. “Tomato, potato... same difference.”

“It’s really not.”

“Anyways!” Peter interrupted him. “I think the green one will be Avalerion, or Ava for short. And the white—“

“Light blue,” James corrected.

“It’s practically white!” Peter defended. “It reminds me of snow, so I’m gonna name it... er...” He peered into the cage to look at the bird. “I’m gonna name her Pamolai, which is a legendary bird spirit that appears in...” he squinted at his phone screen, “Abenaki mythology. This spirit causes cold weather. Or Pam for short.”

James shook his head. “And the dark blue one?”

Oh, that’s easy,” he said with a grin. “She’ll be Linnaeus, or Linn for short.”

James frowned. “I’ve heard that before...” He took up the book and flipped through it until he found the name. “Ah yeah, Carolus Linnaeus, founder of modern systematic botany and zoology.” He tapped the book against Peter’s head after closing it. “You just can’t have simple names, can you?”

Peter shrugged. “Simple is boring,” he argued.

“I think if you became a superhero or something, you’re name would be a complicated one.”

“Well yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t have a simple name. That’d be stupid.”

James grinned, knowing the boy was afraid of spiders. “How about Spider-Man?”

Peter shuddered. “Hell no, and Spider-Man?! Who’d name themselves that?”

#peter parker #june summer prompt challenge #fanfiction #james barnes #bucky barnes #Saving Grace #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #MCU #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Alternate Unievrse - No Powers #AU #Spider-Man

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yourtomwritings · 6 years ago

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Talking to The Moon Part I - T.H.

A/N: Ok so this was originally a one shot, but it was highly requested to become a series (mini series), so I thought why not? This chapter is basically setting up for all the angst that is to happen in the next chapters to come! So it is very important to read this and try not to skip over it. However, this is my first time writing a series, so bare with me please! Other than that I hope you guys like it!

Italics are memories!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning(s): Sickness tw, angst, kinda fluff?

Scanning over the laptop in front of you, you groaned loudly letting your head fall back against the soft leather couch cushioned headrest. Sitting comfortably on your lap was your travel sized laptop that stored all of your college assignments, that would soon be due at the end of the week. Right now you were taking online classes since it was more convenient rather than driving all the way to campus, while feeling very exhausted almost all of the time.

At this moment you were finishing up your first semester of your second year at college. The first year you actually attended classes on campus, to which you didn’t mind at all. The campus wasn’t all too large, it was a decent size but it was kept fairly well with properly trimmed lawns of vibrant grass, and all types of flowers planted along the paths of cobblestone. Your college experience was never one you took too seriously because academics was and always be a priority for you.

Right now you were focusing on bettering yourself and trying to keep your grades up. Most of your professors knew about your struggles, so they were usually very lenient when it came to deadlines. However, you hated the feeling of being treated differently (who doesn’t?) so you did your best to comply and finish by each due date.

“Y/N are you ready to go? We don’t want to be late!” Your mom called out to you as she descended from the top of the wooden staircase. Saving the documents on your laptop, you quickly slip on your shoes and reach down for your bag stuffing your laptop inside along with the rest of your belongings.

“Yeah I’m ready,” Your feet dragged along the oak hardwood flooring moving to meet your mom at the front door then to the car waiting outside.

The car ride was silent as usual. There was always so many things to say, but at the same time almost nothing to talk about. Your head rested gently against the passenger seat window, your sulken eyes focusing on the ever going outside world that continued to pass. Car rides like these always felt tedious and boring. The familiar feeling of dread washes over you whenever you passed certain landmarks that reminded you you were getting closer and closer to the destination. First to see is a children’s park, then comes a crystal blue lake in which you always saw at least one person fishing, and lastly a graveyard in which always sent chills down that back of your spine.

Before you realized it you were making your way past the two overly cleaned glass sliding doors. Walking through the lobby you passed many unfamiliar faces with very few you could recognize. Being here many times made it easy to navigate through and reach where you needed to go. The daunting halls were long and eggshell colored with sickenly bright fluorescent lighting lining the ceilings.

The check-in desk was placed right in the middle of a different wing and you slowly made your way up to the receptionist who was typing away on the computer. She was completely consumed in what she was doing so it took her a few minutes to realize you were standing there.

“Oh hi Y/N! I didn’t realize you were standing there. I checked you in, so you can go ahead and go down to your usual room.” She chirped smiling up at you from her rolling chair.

“Thanks Lisa,” You weakly smiled back at the bubbly blonde haired lady, taking your time to go to your specific room.

Shutting the heavy wooden door behind you, you opened up your travel bag and shuffle through it looking for some comfortable clothes. Inside the duffle bag had a few different changes of clothes, your laptop, some of your favorite books and other necessities. You slipped on a fuzzy pair of charcoal joggers with an oversized white graphic t-shirt.

Knock knock knock

“May I come in?” A voice called out from the otherside of the door.

“Yeah I’m all ready!” You replied plopping yourself down onto one of the dull colored couches.

A familiar face makes its way into the room with a bright purple clipboard in hand. Your nurse was wearing a navy blue set of scrubs with a white stethoscope hanging around her neck. Her smile could honestly light up an entire room, it gave off the most friendly feeling.

Sarah is your favorite nurse in the entire hospital. She’s a bit younger than all the other nurses, so maybe that’s what made you like her a bit more. Sarah almost plays a big sister role in your life, from the year that you have been coming here she’s always taken care of you. Whenever she has free time she comes to sit and talk to you about life or anything your minds can come up with.

“So Y/N, are you ready to start?” Sarah inquired setting up the machine to administer the medicine to you. She connected all of the proper wires to the machine and pulls it closer to where you’re sitting on the couch.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You barely muttered out. Sarah looks down at you giving you a small sympathetic look, before walking over to the sink to sanitize herself.

In preparation she grabbed the needle and ran her fingers along your arm in order to find a big enough vein to insert the tube and needle into. Ever since you were little you hated the idea of needles or any sharp item coming in contact with your body. At this point in your life though you have slowly become accustom to the injection of needles and everything in between.

The initial pinch of the needle breaking through your skin was enough to make you flinch slightly. After the insertion of the needle and tube, Sarah delicately attached a longer tube wiring that connected to the medication you will be receiving. She runs her finger over the machine and presses a few buttons that you're unfamiliar with, assuming it controls how much medication is being released.

“Okay, I'll be back soon! This should take a couple of hours so just relax. If you need anything you know how to reach me!” Sarah informed you, handing you the nurses button in case you need to call her.

“Thanks Sarah, you're the best,” You smiled genuinely at her before she quietly closes the door behind her.

Time goes by at such a stagnant pace, leaving the uneasy feeling more prevalent. The times you go in for chemotherapy have always been tough to get through because of how sick you feel throughout it. Your body felt completely numb, almost as if you are completely stripped of all your energy. Sitting on the somewhat firm couch you can’t help but feel helpless. Your stomach begins to churn with a feeling of queasiness and nausea, your head pounding in all regions, and the most dull aching pain running through your back.

Cautiously moving your arm you rest your head against the palm of your hand, fluttering your eyes shut. You take a deep breath in trying to relax yourself, considering you’ll be here for a while. Today’s treatment just made you feel like total crap, some days it’s a bit better than usual, but that wasn’t the case for today.

Tears streamed down your face, your entire body being washed over by so much discomfort and agony. Everyday it seems to be getting worse and worse. You haven’t eaten in days, your body seems to be shrinking more and more by the day, and your chest is always in such pain. The fever hasn’t improved which means your chills and sweating won’t be going away anytime soon.

Everytime you breathed in the pain in your chest worsened. It felt as if the weight of the world was weighing down your chest, taking your breath away as you let out another yelp of a cry.

“Y/N! Are you okay honey? What’s wrong?” Your mom cries out as she runs to your bedside. She runs the back of her hand over your cheek to attempt to calm you down, but you continued wailing out in pain before your vision slowly faded to black.

Next thing you knew you were waking up somewhere foreign. There were little beeping sounds and chattering all around you making it hard to distinguish a single voice you might recognize. Blinking slowly, trying to unblur your vision you glanced around the room and saw your mom speaking with someone in a white lab coat.

“M-mom?” your voice squeaked out, throat being sore from not speaking for a while.

“Oh honey I didn’t see you were awake. How are you feeling?” Her voice gentle and soothing. Her eyes were stained red, was she crying?

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s nice to finally see you awake. I’m Dr. Stevenson. How’s the pain, on a scale of 1 to 10, what would you rate it?” The man who was speaking with your mother questioned you. He seemed to be a doctor, which must mean that you’re in a hospital.

“About a six,”

“Okay I’ll administer a little bit more medicine. However, Ms. Y/L/N we have to speak privately, the three of us.” He motions to the three of you as you’re being wheeled into a private hospital recovery room.

The doctor cleared his throat peering between the two of you, fumbling with his cork clipboard. His body language mirrored that of someone who seemed nervous and uncomfortable. His stance was awkward and his eyes held all of his emotions, his face gave a look of sympathy. He breathed in about to speak before he let out a huft of air, being very hesitant on what he knew.

“There is no easy way for me to say this,” Dr. Stevenson beings slowly, chewing on his bottom lip before continuing. “Y/N, you almost died back there.”

Feeling your heart race and your palms shaking you carefully nod your head listening to what he has to say. I almost died? How, why, what?

“It was a good thing that you came in when you did. We did many tests on you in order to find out what was wrong.” He took a long dramatic pause before finally coming clean. “I’m sorry but you have cancer, Y/N. You have Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.”

The initial treatment took almost three hours to complete fully and left you with a nauseous feeling that could keep you bedridden for days. It drained all your energy that you always try to save up for reasons exactly like this. You felt your head spin as you leaned back, the cool leather chair sending chills up your neck, causing goosebumps to rise over your neck.

“Are you alright sweets?” You heard Sarah ask, a small smile on her face as she peeks into your room.

You nod as you look over at her, feeling your vision double a bit, your hands reaching up and feverishly rubbing at your eyes.

“As alright as I can get.” You attempted to joke around, picking up your sweater that pooled down at your lap, “I think I’ll feel better after I visit Susie in the children’s ward though, I miss her.” You smiled.

Susie was a sweet little 4-year-old. Unfortunately, for her, she was diagnosed for cancer when she was 3, Leukemia. Susie was a jokester, always making the nurses smile and her parents laugh, oblivious to their tear stained cheeks and sunken in faces. Susie wasn’t doing so well now a days, but she was a fighter.

You thanked Sarah as she helped you get up from the chair, your feet slowly pacing towards the already set up wheelchair. You usually didn’t use the wheelchair, but on days like this, where the treatment left you feeling weak, you allowed yourself to.

A soft smile immediately made its way to your face, hearing the children’s movies play in the background as Sarah pushed you into the colorful hallway. You watched the familiar tune of Monsters Inc play in the back.

“Boo!” You heard Susie cheer, smiling as you wheeled yourself into the room, thanking Sarah.

“Hi Bug!” You smiled, watching the little girl giggle, a pink glittery scarf adorning her head as she was dressed in her favorite Princess Snow White pajamas. “How have you been lovie? I missed you!”

“Good, I missed you too Y/N. Guess what!” She giggled climbing up onto your lap, reaching her arms up to wrap them around your neck to give you a small hug.

“Chicken butt!” You laughed gently wrapping your arms around her frail and tiny torso. She threw her head back to let out a laugh, it could light up an entire room, it was melodious and soothing to listen to.

“No! Someone special is coming to visit us today!” Susie squealed the excitement clear in her raspy voice. “Spider-Man is coming!”

“Woah Spider-Man? That’s exciting! He’s my favorite hero,” You giggled reciprocating her enthusiasm, shaking your head gently while looking at her smiling face.

Her eyes were squinted while she was talking and giggling telling you how excited she was to meet Spider-Man. You quietly nodded and listened intently as she was explaining all the things she loved about him: his bravery, how nice he was, his suit, and she even mentioned how cute he was. You had to admit she was right, the actor who played the most recent Spider-Man is quite the looker. However, you knew better to know it’s not a real Spider-Man, let alone the actor playing him. It was nice that some kind person was dressing up as Spider-Man for the kids, it must be one of the nurses trying to make their day.

“I’ll be honest, he is a cutie, huh?” You teased, tickling her tummy gently. Before you knew it Susie’s nurse was leaning against the doorframe.

“Susie! You have a special visitor,” Her nurse smiled at the two of you. “You too Y/N, there’s someone here to see you!” She laughed teasing you before standing aside to let who you knew would be Spider-Man in.

“Hi Susie it’s nice to meet you!” The masked Spider-Man chuckled seeing Susie bouncing in your lap.

Her tiny hands were reaching out towards the hero making little grabby motions. He walked over to the two of you and carefully reached down to pick her up and place her on his waist, treating her as if she was a delicate flower who could fall apart at any moment.

“Hi Spider-Man!” Susie’s voice rang through your ears, her smile evident in her voice. Seeing how happy she is made you completely distracted from how sick you were feeling earlier.

“I love your pajamas, Snow White is my favorite princess!” He exclaimed using his free hand to motion towards the picture of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

“I like your costume. You’re my favorite superhero! Y/N’s too!” She admitted, pointing to where you were still sitting in your wheelchair. “She thinks you’re cute!”

Your eyes widened at her confession but you nodded and shrugged, your cheeks still burning with slight embarrassment. You heard the masked hero chuckle and nod his head looking between the two of you.

“Is that so?” He teased a bit, looking down towards you.

“Can I try on your mask?” Susie pleaded, giving him her famous puppy dog eyes, with just a slight pouting of her bottom lip.

“Of course, how could I say no!” He kneeled down and gently placed her on her feet.

She waddled over to where you were sitting and climbed back on your lap as he stood back up. He cautiously untucked the mask from where his suit met his upper neck, before tugging it off from the top of his head, revealing his disheveled brown curly locks.

“Here you go love,” He beamed down at her, kneeling down once again to get on an eye to eye level with her.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes scanned over the boy standing in front of you. It wasn’t some random stranger or a nurse that worked at this hospital. It was the actual actor who plays Spider-Man. The Tom Holland was standing right in front of you, making you feel self conscious about your entire being.

The next twenty-five minutes or so he played along with Susie, telling her all the cool things he’s done to save the world, explained how his suit worked, and even talked about some of the other marvel characters. He was honestly really sweet and great with kids from what you were seeing, and for him to take time out of his busy schedule to visit these kids made your heart swell.

“Well Susie, it was so nice to meet you! I have to go visit some others now, okay? I promise I’ll be back real soon to see you again, love.” Tom expressed wholeheartedly. “It was real nice to meet you too, Y/N. I hope I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” You gleamed up at him nodding, giving him a small hug from where you were sitting.

At this point you couldn’t comprehend that you just met Tom Holland, he was as sweet and down to Earth as he seemed on interviews you stumbled upon in the past. You spent a little more time with Susie before your nurse Sarah came back up to get you and bring you to your room.

“I’ll see you soon Susie, love you sweets!” You said giving her a bear hug, not wanting to let go.

Sarah wheeled you down to your room and helped you get into bed. You were feeling a lot better than earlier, your nausea was gone for the most part, but your body still felt tense and sore all over. You rested your head back on the soft fluffy grey pillow you brought from home. Days like this made you miss being home in your own bed, so it was a nice reminder.

After getting comfortable in the dull hospital bed, you grab your laptop from the bedside table and rest it on your lap. You felt exhausted but that wasn’t going to stop you from finishing some of you classwork. You scrolled through some example problems from your calculus I class before there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N? You have a visitor!” Sarah called out from behind the large wooden door before slightly peaking her head in. A visitor? At this time?

“Okay sure come on in,” You averted your eyes from the bright screen.

“Hello love!” A familiar voice sounded as they stepped inside of your room.

“Tom?”

Tagging some mutuals: @spectacular-spiderboy @gab-spidey @kathscribbless @hvllanders @chrisalicious @thepenisparker

If you want to be added to the taglist: https://goo.gl/forms/rfjF6naWzQClJv0J3

#tom holland #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland series #th #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #Spider Man: Homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #angst #angsty #talking to the moon fic #talking to the moon

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fandomoniumflurry · 6 years ago

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The Favorite Girl

for @spnpolybingo Square filled: CasHannahSamandriel

for @spnkinkbingo Square Filled: Dom!Cas

for @spnaubingo Square filled: Old West

2.4k words

NSFW 18+, mention of prostitution, oral(male receiving), spanking, voyeurism, dom!cas(yes thats a warning) unbetad.

Not tagging***Not my Images

She was clothed in her best red dress, one that had silver embroidery and black lining. One that lifted her bust just so and the length showed off her black and silver stockings with little red bows hidden on her garters. Her hair was braided and twisted up in a bow and decorated with black feathers and silver hair pins. She wore the brightest of red lipstick and her lashes were made long and thick with her eye makeup. Her heels, black with silver buckles, just as extravagant as the rest of her outfit, clacked against the hardwood.

Castiel took good care of her. He never mistreated her or beat her and he listened to her wishes. He gave her all she could ever want because she was his best girl. He had plenty of girls, but Hannah was everyone’s favorite. Including Cas’s favorite, because when she wasn’t working or dancing, she was with him, in his bed but also at his dinner table. At the end of day, she belonged to him in every way possible.

He was almost invisible, quiet and reserved as he sat away from everyone. His table was in the darkest most secluded part of the saloon and though he could see the bar and the stage, no one really saw him. He seemed nervous and out of place, drinking a sasparilla while everyone else was drinking themselves into a stupor at this time of the day. He was clearly tall, lean and awkward. His dark blonde hair was combed over and neat with a few stray hairs falling into his face. His eyes were big blue hues that dazzled with innocence and fear.

He wore a fine pressed suit that seemed two sizes too big for his thin frame and the bowtie around his neck was crooked and loosened as he seemed to sweat under the knit cloth of his coat and vest. His bowler hat rested on the bench seat next to him and his loafers which used to be shiny and glistening were now muddy on the heels where he came in through the wet dirt.

It had just rained and the ground had yet to drink up all the moisture. The whole saloon floor was covered in clumps of dirt and trails of mud. Everyone had tracked it in but no one bothered to clean it up because the work would never be done because it was the most popular place in town and would be seeing more visitors over the next few hours. Once business slowed, Castiel would send someone to start sweeping and cleaning up for the next day’s business. For now, the clean cut stranger was forced to sit amongst the dirt and smell of moisture.

Hannah was the first to spot him and she couldn’t help but giggle at the way the young man stood out like a sore thumb. And yet no one acknowledged his presence and he hadn’t approached or asked for anyone or anything. It wasn’t her time on stage and so she spent her time on the sidelines watching the diverse gathering of people and observing.

She didn’t hear him approach but she knew who it was when hands rested on her shoulders and chapped lips came to her ear. Her body shivered slightly when she felt his hot breath on her ear and heard his gravelly voice against her eardrum. “That’s my little brother.” She stiffened, thinking that perhaps she had done something wrong. She moved to turn her eyes away but she heard him chuckle and he grabbed her chin and buried his nose against her neck. “I need you to take care of him for me.” She relaxed when she understood his meaning. He kissed her skin when she nodded and she smiled softly. “My best girl.” He praised, hugging her around the waist and she reveled in the feel, her hands resting over his hands. “He’s a bit shy so I will be joining you.” Her body shivered again as her lips parted with a soft sigh causing Cas to grin. “You like it when I watch, don’t you, Hannah?” She nodded eagerly. “You’ll need to be gentle. He’s a virgin, poor thing. So I want to be in control until he gets the hang of it.” She nodded her head, a wicked gleam in her eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth.

It was then that the young man caught sight of the pair staring at him. His body quivered under the intensity and his eyes fell. Cas pushed Hannah gently and watched as she sauntered over to the awkward boy. He couldn’t be a day over eighteen and though she wasn’t considered hold, she was still far older than him and she almost felt like a cradle robber. But this was a personal request from the boss and if she was lucky, his little brother would be an equally amazing lover.

She grabbed his hat from the seat and plopped it on top of her head so she could slide in next to him. Her body plastered against the boy’s body and she smiled sweetly as she crossed her leg to throw it over his and her fingers splayed over his chest. “You look terrified, sugar. Don’t gotta be scared of little ol’ me. I only bit if you ask me to.” She giggled and her prey swallowed thickly. “I’m Hannah.” She introduced quietly as she played with the buttons of his fine pressed shirt.

His voice was shaky as he exhaled more than spoke his name. “S-Saman-driel.” Her free hand moved to comb through his hair to attempt to soothe his nerves.

“You ever been with a woman before, Samandriel?” She looked into his wide eyes with sympathy when he shook his head. “Would you like to?” Another quivering breath passed through his parted lips and he nodded slowly. “You’re brother thought you’d feel better having him around to help you.” She pointed out, turning her head to Castiel who was now walking towards them.

Hannah couldn’t really see the family resemblance and Castiel never talked about his family so she didn’t even know who they resembled. She didn’t even know their last name. But she could only take their word for it and when Cas gestured for the two of them, Hannah disentangled herself from the young man and took his hand, pulling him up with her after she stood. A reassuring and comforting smile remained on her face as she squeezed his hand and he followed behind her like a puppy on a leash.

Castiel’s long tan trench coat fanned out behind him as he moved swiftly through the saloon, greeting patrons as he went with Hannah and his brother following. Even though he was far slimmer than the older man, Samandriel’s shoes made far more noise against the hardwood than Castiel’s polished boots. The walk to the suite on the top floor was only a few stairs up and down at the end of the long hall past several other doors on the right and a railing that looked over the bar on the left. All the doors were the same color and led to rooms that were all the same size all decorated the same way and all used for the same unclean endeavors.

The boss’s suite on the end had two doors, painted blue which was a stark contrast against the dark brown walls. The room was twice the size of the rest and along with a king sized bed, the decor was light and bright with pictures of angels and gold trimmings. There was a giant window that took up most of the far wall and on the perpendicular wall facing toward the bed, was a large mirror framed with gold ivy and golden cherubs. The sheets were white with blue trimmings and gold embroidery.

There were few who got to use this room, mostly just Castiel and Hannah but there have been a few of the women that he allowed in his bed and some men to join in on the fun. But Castiel was monogamous by nature and it took a special person for him to want to watch and share with.

Hannah always enjoyed it when he watched and he loved that she was the lucky one he kept for himself. She was still a girl for hire but he didn’t let her get the kind of customers like the other girls. Her favorite clients were the closest friends of Castiel who were much like him. Since this was his brother and a man Castiel chose specifically for her to take care of, she had high hopes that it would be quite the night.

Castiel pointed toward the bed once he stepped aside to usher them into the room. Hannah sat down and pulled Sam down to sit next to her on the edge of the bed. The door was closed and then locked before Cas shed himself of his trenchcoat and turned to face them. “Take off his coat, please, Hannah.” He ordered as he set his coat over the back of a plush wingback chair that stood in the corner near the door. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his slacks where it was tucked before he took a seat. He sunk into the luscious cushion and his shirt hung open as his arms rested on the chair’s arms. He crossed one leg over the other and stared them down with dark intensity.

Hannah watched him for a moment but found her senses and turned to Samandriel and pushed his coat from his shoulders. Once he lifted his arms, she pulled it off and stood to place it over by Castiel’s. The dark haired man reached out a hand to leave a feather light touch against her thighs as she passed, just a brief touch but enough to spark a fire within her. But she knew not to make a move without his permission so she just came back to sit beside Sam. She looked to Castiel for further instruction and was sure to keep her hands to herself.

The nod was subtle but she caught it. His hands came together and his fingers pressed against cracked lips and his blue orbs seemed almost black. She knew what he wanted and so she turned to Samandriel and ran her fingers through his hair before her hand rested on the back of his neck. Slowly pulling him forward, she met his lips with hers in a slow wet kiss. He was sloppy in his return at first but he quickly got into it and returned the kiss with fervor. The moment his hand moved to rest on her arm, the kiss was broken by the older man who they didn’t even notice move from his seat when he pulled them apart.

“You don’t touch her unless I give her permission.” His gruff tone was more gravelly than usual, clearly heavy with anger and lust. Both of them nodded and Cas returned to his seat and nodded for them to continue.

Hannah leaned in again to find his lips but the young man’s eyes were on the man across the room. Hannah’s hand diverted his attention and he found the rhythm once again. “Hannah, would you undress him, please? Slowly.” His order was dark and she felt her heart begin to race. She stood and moved in front of him taking her time unbuttoning his shirt all while shaking her ass at the man leering at her from the chair.

Once it was undone, the shirt was tossed aside and the undershirt was not far behind. Bare chested, Samandriel blushed and his arms moved to cross over himself. He was clearly holding onto some apprehension but Hannah’s soft lips against his jaw seemed to ease him. She pushed him gently by the shoulder, making him lay back so she could get her hands on his belt buckle. The belt was pulled through each loop at an agonizing pace and once it was free, she turned to hand it to Cas.

He took it with a half smirk and rose from his chair with the leather in his hand, folded in half. While Hannah unbuttoned Sam’s pants, Castiel pressed himself against her back and pulled her short dress over her firm flesh. She hummed as she palmed the growing bulge in Samandriel’s underwear and let out a moan when she felt its girth. Cas had her dress around her waist by the time she had the young man’s pants over his knees and when she removed his shorts, Cas had rid her of her panties and garters.

The first slap of the belt against her behind caused her to let out a loud squeak and her nails dug into Sam’s thighs which caused him to groan. The second spanking made her squeal and her dampened pussy clenched as tears formed in her eyes. When Cas pressed himself against her, tossing the belt aside, his fingers gripped her hips tight and his hips pushed her forward into his brother. She took the opportunity to wrap her lips around the young man’s cock and she didn’t even allow him time to adjust to the new feeling before she was sucking him down her throat and fondling his balls.

He was trembling and whimpering as he watched his manhood disappear fully past her lips. If she kept going like this he wouldn’t last long. When Cas finally brought his fingers to her pussy, she groaned loudly and gagged. Samandriel’s dick vibrated with her sounds and before he knew it, he was shooting his hot seed down her throat, causing her to cough due to the suddenness and intensity of his load.

“You gotta warn her first, little brother.” Castiel chuckled as he looked down at his heaving brother, red with embarrassment and exertion.

Hannah sucked him dry and came off with a pop, wiping his essence from her chin and licking her lips clean. “Don’t worry, Sam. Everyone is like that the first time.” Hannah cooed once she finally caught her breath. She looked back at Cas who nodded his head, both of his hands on her hips as she straddled Samandriel. The action pinned his quickly hardening member between them and she grinned devilishly. “We have all night to train you.” She winked and her hips began to roll as Castiel entered her.

#spnkinkbingo #spnpolybingo #spnaubingo #cashannahsamandriel #castiel #hannah #samandriel #spn #supernatural #dom!cas #old west #shelly writes

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ive-always-been-a-pirate · 8 years ago

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The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royalty AU [Chapter 5]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general's daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the 'other' prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Catch Up On Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 9,453

Okay, I'm sorry this took so long. I got in that cycle of overthinking things and it ended up being much longer than anticipated! Future chapters won't be as long as this one, but I had lots of Killian feels in this one :) so hopefully you all enjoy it! Huge thank you to @optomisticgirl for her endless assistance and support on this story! As always, I own nothing. Happy reading!

The night had barely begun, but Killian finalized his decision with a fifth tug at his pressed sleeve - he hated this bloody suit. Truthfully, he'd never been particularly keen on being properly trimmed and tailored in general so the dismal conclusion wasn't really a wildly drawn one. Killian had spent his fair share of years finding ways around royal dress code, his preference of modern casual easily overlooked due to his charming smile and stellar sweet talking skills - or at least that's what he told himself. It was easy to see why looking so proper was important as a representative of his grandmother's monarchy, but still, that didn't mean he had to like it.

Perhaps it wasn't his current attire that was solely the source of his agitation he noted when the smooth traveling black BMW pulled up to the gates of Buckingham. He'd spent the few hours before sunset arguing with the brand new, trim-tailored, clean lined blue suit - an endeavor that earned a multitude of grumbles and a few countdown texts from his incessantly formal brother. Taking a final glance in the bathroom mirror, he smoothed the maroon and navy striped tie as he settled on what was really bothering him.

The event calling for his recently required clothes was one he'd been dreading for weeks now - a Royal Navy veterans' memorial ceremony where he'd most certainly spend the evening regaling his older brother's military heroism while squandering the need to sort out his own.

The idea that this was his fault on some level had crossed his mind once or twice since he'd returned home. He'd elected to take the route less selected by royals when he'd chosen the British Army instead of sailing the honorable seas. Breaking the tradition wasn't something he'd done by fear or a distaste for the open ocean, but rather a result of his stubborn need to move out from under his older sibling's shadow.

Of course, that was supposing that such a momentous feat was actually possible.

It wasn't that Liam's courageous dedication to the Navy was anything to balk at - his older brother had navigated the crown and their family through murky, troublesome waters several times. His victories were always discussed in bold terms, the admiration just about everyone seemed to have for the man just ahead of him in the succession line rarely something that wavered. Killian had always seen his big brother in that brilliant light, but as they grew older and Liam completed multiple seaworthy rescue missions, it became a lot more difficult to idolize rather than compare with him. The eventual king-to-be had a decent military based resume, but it didn't begin to compete with the near decade long career Killian had endured while flying through front lines of combat. There were certainly a few qualities and experiences that Killian could easily pull rank on, but it didn't really seem worth it to do so.

His brother would always have what he would never - and that plan had been put into place years before Killian was even born. Liam was the right sort of Captain through and through, a leader of the masses not just limited to the sea, but Killian - well, he had always been something a little more rogue.

"If I didn't know any better-" the familiar voice commented as it's owner approached Killian's side. "-I'd say you look mighty uncomfortable, brother. New suit not feeling as dapper as you'd hoped?"

Lifting his vexed eyes to address the man who owned those subtly chiding words and many others was probably overdue. He was, after all, almost a full hour into avoiding social obligation and the brother who so often reminded him about it. Killian knew that feigning surprise at Liam's approaching stance was futile - his only sibling was unusually adept at tracking him down.

"I'd beg to differ," Killian returned, mustering a bit of that second heir charm he reserved for bantering with his brother. "Just because I don't love wearing it doesn't mean I don't look dashing, your highness."

"Hey, don't start," Liam grumbled with a warning glare that slowly turned into knowing amusement, his hand lifting to adjust the collar of his own suit coat. "Besides, if you're looking that pretentious in this traditional get-up, it certainly means I am too, little brother."

Killian grimaced quickly, his agitated gaze narrowing as Liam's grin lit up. He couldn't help but bestow a light nudge to his brother's side and he tried not to grin too widely at the way Liam winced in dull pain. Victory swelled in the smirk Killian was holding back as he remembered their recent rugby scrimmage and recalling the way the high and mighty heir had taken hard hit to the ribs was almost enough to make him forget that they were currently matching in ways well beyond their stupid injuries.

Almost - but not quite.

The whole thing was merely another detail of these obligated events and one that he had lived to loathe since they were boys. Why two adult men needed to dress identically - everything from pressed slacks to the matching jacket with the two toned striped tie - just because they were royal was completely beyond him.

Wiggling his warm toes in his newly shined shoes, he knew it probably wasn't wise to mention to Liam that their attire wasn't totally the same. His older brother never possessed much patience for the subtle act of rebellion Killian insisted upon when it came to concealed footwear, but pulling on one of his many pairs of obnoxious socks was always a temptation not to be ignored. He'd settled on the blue ones with the little boats for this particular evening, knowing that they'd be at least somewhat relevant even if it wasn't completely proper.

"Glad you find my melancholy entertaining as always, Liam," he sighed with a defeated yet still small smirk. "But for the record, it's-"

"Younger brother - I know," Liam replied with a matching curve of his mouth, one that suggested they might be back on good terms. "It'd be a shame to spend the evening brooding in the corner though, Killian. It would probably be wise to hop to it before Cora says anything…."

Killian felt his shoulders straighten uncomfortably at the mention of the woman who'd just entered the large ballroom. The evening was tense and frustrating enough as it was without the presence of their arriving stepmother, but the deep breath he attempted to take seemed to insist that things were only about to get more difficult. Her entry into the esteemed venue commanded attention in a slightly admirable way that Killian still couldn't understand, but he couldn't help but take pride in the fact that she still didn't receive the pure adoration from the public that his mother always had. While she was respected in a specific manner, there always seemed to be an understanding hanging in the air - the quiet reminder that she wouldn't be there if the first wife of His Royal Highness Prince Brennan still was.

She was a replacement and Killian truly hoped she'd never forget that.

Killian held his ground as he watched her move toward them in a boldly red gown clad with a fake smile and jewels that were actually of her own procuring. Cora had come from her own line of distant royalty, a piece of information that Killian was grateful for ever since the first time he saw her sporting a modest diamond tiara. He had always believed his father wouldn't even consider offering her any of the beautiful jewelry that had been stored safely under lock and key since the day of his mother's funeral, but he also knew better than to not think twice about Cora's ability to manipulate. She'd used it to her advantage a few times since marrying into their family and he'd predicted it from the beginning. A tense fight with his father a few nights before the man wedded her was long standing proof of his distrust in the woman who didn't deserve to be any sort of Duchess.

"So that's it? You can just marry her without thought all while pretending that Mom….that she never even-"

"Killian, stop," he'd tried, his shoulders sagging in frustration. "That's not fair. That is not what this about and I think you know that, son."

"It doesn't make it right, not when you can just….forget-"

"I haven't, son," he told him, his voice cracking just enough. "I miss your mother and always will."

"Could have fooled me."

Killian knew he'd never forget the wide eyed reaction he'd earned from his father after uttering those four impulsive words. They'd been chosen angrily and had crossed a line never meant to be breached. He'd spend years trying to figure out how to redraw it, but the tense aftermath of that argument was proof that some things just couldn't be taken back.

Well, perhaps he'd known that for a while now.

"Killian, I just-," he'd said softly with his eyes honest and a watery blue. "It's just….easier that way. It's easier to not let the hurt consume what's left of me. She's gone, son - and I will fight the agony that encompasses that fact until I can understand just why it's any sort of fair….but I can't just….I can't spend the rest of my life being angry about it. I really wish you wouldn't either."

"I can and I will," he'd told his father with a stubborn, emotional voice. "Because she deserves to be remembered and missed every single day - and I won't let her down like….you are."

The pain rushing back alongside Killian's silent reminiscing still cut deeply and he tried to squander the shame roaming through his mind. Though they'd found their way back to a mutual understanding of loving respect, the tension invoked between Killian and his father had never fully smoothed itself out. The reminder of that was immediately brought forth as he caught the sight of the eldest prince. Their glances locked for only a moment - a quick acknowledgement of one another that seemed to somehow mean everything - and Killian felt his body relax as he watched the ailing heir apparent move into the grand ballroom.

Perhaps it wasn't so easy to tell that his father was still endlessly fighting off the effects of his poor health. It was simple enough for Killian and a few other members of the family to see the decline, but they'd spent time with him frequently enough to note the changes each day brought. It wasn't as if the world was oblivious to the man's medical history - they hadn't exactly made it a point to hide much of what the prince's heart had been through in the past. The first heart attack had been so sudden and stressful as it struck in the aftermath of his mother's death and the one that followed had nearly ruined him. The saga continued when multiple attempts for transplants and treatments had been fraught by even more trifling circumstances, ones that still made Killian's head ache with the 'what if' tones of possibility. His father had ended up with an illness on several occasions that prevented operating and there had also been the morning one of the scheduled surgeries was halted as the passing of the beloved Duke of Edinburgh - an honorable icon of the free world but more importantly the queen's husband and the father of the ailing prince - was announced the night before. That had all been years ago and while their family had not denied much, little more was volunteered in addition to what the press concluded.

It didn't mean the questions didn't cross Killian's mind multiple times a day, much as they did with the thoughts of others he supposed. How much time was left? How long would they have to wonder in terms of years and months? Would he still be there to take the place of the Queen when the time came?

Everyone speculated things of that nature often, but the details were vague - and perhaps it was for the best. Strength and consistency were part of what had made his grandmother such a coveted, successful monarch and the last thing they needed was to ignite a concern that the man who was supposed to ascend the throne next wouldn't be well enough to carry a finely crafted legacy.

"He's been looking better lately," Liam commented as they watched their father shake several hands. "Though I doubt he'd miss this even if we insisted."

Always the optimist, Killian thought without retort to his older and much more hopeful brother. Perhaps it was good to have the encouragement of an idealist hanging in the regal air. Perhaps it wouldn't be wrong to allow them both a fraction of positivity despite what was surely a nearing end.

Killian didn't believe it, but Liam needed it - and maybe that was the least he could offer the brother who'd done so much more for him.

"Aye," Killian nodded softly. "He's always been quite the Navy man."

The quiet comment came without much thought and Liam's chuckle almost made Killian forget about the broken spirit possessed by the man they were analyzing. Their father had actually cleaned up well - his garb stitched in the blue threads of the full naval apparel and his beard neatly trimmed. The usually immaculately clean cut man's hair was a bit longer than was typical for approval, but Killian knew no one would dispute such a minor detail. His eyes were still subtly exhausted, but his calculated movements were proof that he was going to fight through the discomfort for at least this one evening. Watching the way his multiple service medals hung on the fabric covering the space just above his weak heart was definitely a sight that made both Killian and his brother nervous, but seeing him as a formal Admiral of the highest rank was unexpectedly reassuring. The pressed, pleated uniform was a huge shift from the knit sweaters and casual pants he wore regularly since his condition had worsened.

"Still is to some degree," Liam told him with a gentle nudge and a brotherly smirk. "I'm glad he felt up to attending. There's supposed to be a few men he served with here tonight I believe, especially since Admiral Nolan is returning to command soon."

Killian cocked his head sideways at his brother's words. He'd heard the name of the man just mentioned a few times over the years, but most recently he'd caught the sound of it in reference to a naval training mishap not long ago. He didn't know the extensive details - only that a storm just off the coast of Scotland one afternoon had nearly claimed the man's life along with several others. Killian had watched many fellow men face injuries and had even witnessed the sudden demise of a fallen few while on the front lines, each tragic instance just as painful as the one before. Watching a comrade meet that thin line between life and death wasn't something he'd ever gotten used to and he felt a small sweep of relief float over him when he was told that the case of a man his brother obviously held in high regard wasn't as bleak as it could have been.

He didn't know the admiral in question, but he knew those tales of tragedy and the opposite outcome made him glad to see a heroic military man escape a fate less than victory.

"Alright, I'm going to go touch base with a few people and I suggest you do the same, brother," Liam nudged him. "I'll catch up with you in an hour or so - don't wander off too far, alright?"

"Aye, aye, Captain."

A swift slap of his arm wasn't enough for Killian to regret his sarcastic quip of agreement. His smirk held steady as he watched his brother disappear into the growing crowd of honorable sailors, the charisma he possessed definitely not something they'd equally inherited. Turning toward the large clock on the wall across the room as it hit the top of the hour, Killian made a quick decision.

He had about forty minutes before anyone would truly be looking for him - and that was plenty of time to indulge in the liquid courage he was going to need to make it through the evening.

Killian had always been rather fond of this particular part of the palace, even though the entire building itself wasn't high on his list of personal sanctuaries. He'd always found some sense of peace on the central balcony of the Buckingham courtyard - well, as long as it was dark out and the majority of the palace was otherwise occupied.

The elaborate space was renowned and Killian had spent his fair share of time enjoying the prestigious view. Of course, he had done so under much more social and unified circumstances before - always alongside the close knit collection of royals while displaying pride and unwavering faith in the crown. He wondered if his love for such a location came from his memories of being there with his family still intact all those years ago - Liam pointing excitedly at the planes overhead while their father grinned and their mother laughing as she'd tried to hold onto her squirming youngest son. No matter the reason, it was easier to stand in such a noticeable place at night now. That was mostly because the elevated terrace was almost concealed in the darkness courtesy of the granite overhang and multiple columns keeping the architecture stable, creating a sense of off limits tranquility. The space below was well lit, keeping the courtyard easy to navigate, but the balcony above was dim enough to pass for a sufficient quiet place. He rested his grip on the smoothly constructed stone railing as he soaked up the irony of hiding in plain sight. It was almost certain nobody would stumble upon him here.

"Well, aren't you a predictable sight?"

Killian felt the pressed fabric of his suit bind a bit, the material stretched thickly as he turned to peer in the direction of the intruding voice. The quickly approaching dusk wasn't helpful and he squinted slightly while his posture straightened in realization of just who would know to find him out on such a specific balcony.

"Gran," he breathed with a hint of a smile, nodding as she came fully into view. "You're back."

Her returned grin was a bit goading yet adoring as ever as she moved to join him on the well known terrace, her stroll slowed and oddly casual. She was dressed with typical pomp in a cream colored gown emphasized by a series of elaborate jewels and he nearly laughed as he realized that such clothing would have been accompanied by a perfectly matching hat if it were daytime. Instead, her graying hair was topped by a pristinely jeweled sapphire tiara - merely one from her collection of so many others - and Killian recognized it instantly as her favorite.

Of course, she'd never admitted to such an opinion, but she'd wore it frequently enough over the years that he and Liam had labeled it as the trademark 'Granny's crown' from very young ages.

"You missed me I take it," she decided, gesturing around the secluded dim balcony of the grand estate. "If you being out here is any indication."

Her eyes were set in an expressive way he'd seen often but never totally been able to decipher, a mix of amusement and slight disappointment while still bearing an emotion that could only be defined as sympathy. He had fallen victim to such looks of pity many times over the course of his life and from a variety of people - citizens from all over, distant relatives, sometimes even Liam, but most often from the longtime monarch herself. It wasn't that she felt bad for him, but more that she shared an understanding of the workings regarding the emotional roller coaster he'd never bought the ticket for but still ended up riding anyway. She'd always been a perceptive observer of his hidden sadness and it was perhaps because she carried a wealth of it herself. His grandmother had dearly loved the tragically taken princess from the instant the pair were introduced and seeing the toll that loss took on the family as well as the country wasn't an easy sight to behold, even for a remarkable woman who was sixty years into her reign.

"Always," Killian answered earnestly, accepting her gentle embrace and offering his usual peck on her cheek. "Dare I believe the same?"

"That I missed you? Well, I was hardly given the opportunity to before I caught news of just what you've been up to in my absence," she replied with a firm yet curious tone. "I suppose we should discuss that."

She looked almost as uneasy as he felt, but only for a moment until she let out a receptive sigh. He'd been trying to muster an excuse or a deflection since he'd heard she was headed home via voicemail from Liam that morning. There didn't really seem to be a proper way to make himself out to be innocent in this particular situation, but he knew he had to say something.

"I guess….but, I do want you to know that I didn't….I just-" he attempted, eventually shaking his head with a frustrated breath. "-I didn't intend to bring poor attention to us, especially not while you weren't here to reprimand me instead of Liam doing so. Trust me, I would rather it was you. I know it was….wrong though….and I didn't mean for this to be what you came home to, your highness."

"Well, no need to get formal now, Killian - it's only us here," she countered with a gentle smile. "I'm just trying to gather the facts, unfortunate as they may be."

"I know, Gran, but I'm sorry-"

"My dear boy, I'm not here for your apology," she assured him. "If there's one thing I've grown to find endearing about you, it's that vivacious spirit you inherited from your mother. She was the same in a way, you know."

The comment brought a familiar smirk to his mouth as he recalled a few circumstances in which his mother had broken royal protocol in her own style - everything from refusing the regular palace schooling program for her sons to her inability to keep from hugging the abandoned orphans on her service trips to illness ravished countries. She'd never really been one to do things by the regal book and while it had infuriated many of the traditional members of their elaborate government, Killian believed that it was part of what made her so relatable and easy to love.

After all, there weren't many other princesses who secretly wore tennis shoes beneath the occasional ballgown.

"Yeah," he said with a weak smile. "She was."

"Well, we've got a bit of time before the evening commences," she decided, taking a seat on the granite bench close by and patting the empty spot at her side. "So why don't you come tell me what this whole thing was about?"

Killian hesitated a moment, scratching behind his ear anxiously as a soft breeze drifted briefly across the balcony. He'd been teetering on some form of pins and prodding needles since the morning Liam retrieved him from the police station. The possibility of having to face accountability for his impulsive actions a few nights earlier had caused him to dodge his older brother with a hope that his guilty conscience would eventually drop away. He'd settled with the knowledge that it might not and in that case, he'd be facing off with Liam in a bantering battle he'd fought a few times before. Having to explain himself to the queen though - or rather, the temper driven and very idiotic version of himself - was a little more intimidating and Killian struggled to summon the hazy, hangover inducing memory of that evening as he staggered toward the open seat.

He hadn't planned on elaborating, but this was his grandmother after all - and this woman was always one to do the unexpected.

"I don't suppose it would help if I admit that I don't exactly recall most of what happened that night."

"It definitely doesn't assist your case in a positive way," she agreed. "But I like to think I'm a fair judge when it comes to the mild transgressions of my grandson, even if they've been largely misguided in the past. So what happened? As much as I typically trust your brother, I'd be a downright fool to believe that happened at an afternoon rugby match."

Her sight gestured toward the slowly healing cut on his lower lip and Killian tested the tender wound with a slight scrape of his teeth. It didn't hurt much anymore, but the frustration he still felt regarding the whole ordeal made him wonder just what sort of scar might remain afterward.

He realized silently that it might not be the sort that would merely mar his dashing good looks.

"I guess the fight started with Will Scarlet's thoughtlessly intoxicated mouth and ended with me stepping in when I shouldn't have," Killian started, glancing out over the darkened palace grounds. "It all got out of hand quicker than I expected it to, but when the insults directed toward our lineage started getting tossed about, I guess I just….had to do something."

"Ah, defensive to a slightly reckless degree then," she smirked. "I'd ask what was said, but I'm sure it's not anything I haven't heard before. I appreciate you being protective, Killian, but would I be wrong to say that I don't think this whole thing is about last night?"

He scoffed quietly, shaking his head in a light fashion. The night was already quite lightless, but she'd still somehow picked up on the presence of some underlying cause. It didn't surprise him all that much - his grandmother was intuitive to an almost unfair degree.

"I don't know what else it could be about," he lied teasingly, lifting an eyebrow in deflection. "Just that Irish temper you know."

"It's hardly fair to blame your late grandfather's heritage for such an outlandish evening, but I can take a hint I guess," she told him in return. "So I'll just say this - we both know I appreciate you doing your royal duty of keeping things interesting around here, but I'm merely going to request that you do so when I'm in the country, dear. Observing from a distance isn't nearly as timely, even with the news circulating through social media so rapidly."

"Ah," Killian said, silently grateful for her mercy. "Does this mean you've gotten the hang of Twitter while overseas?"

"I'm afraid the feud between that bird and myself is ongoing and I'll likely end up hiring someone to sort it out for me soon enough," she sighed with a small smile. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd be willing to lighten the publicity workload for a bit. It would be nice not to have to issue a statement on anything for a little while."

Killian let out a light breath of respite as he watched her gaze soften. He knew he'd never fully understand just why the woman with an unmatched sovereignty always tended toward leniency with him, but the hint of sympathy in her expression reminded him that he didn't need to comprehend it - he needed to be thankful for it. His grandmother had every right to scold him above and beyond everyone else, but once again, she was choosing not to. The tender grace in the moment was comforting and he nodded firmly in agreement.

"That's more like it," she grinned, patting his leg. "I ought to get inside I suppose. Your father is probably about ready to send out the corgis in pursuit of me if Liam hasn't done so already. You'll be along soon I trust?"

"Aye," he promised, helping her to her feet and kissing her cheek. "Good to have you back, Gran."

"Yeah, yeah," she bantered with a wave of her hand. "We'll see if you still feel that way once I put you to work."

"Oh?"

"I'd say it's about time for something new," she replied, considering him quietly. "Stop by garden lake tomorrow morning around nine and for lord's sake, make sure you do something about that hair on your face. I'm quite sure your brother might know where to get it trimmed up - or removed entirely, if you're open to my preference."

"A trim it is then," Killian countered with a clever grin. "See you then, Gran."

A quick wink was her only reply as she moved toward the doorway. Killian decided he'd find clarification on just what that little taunt meant later before he checked the time on the shiny silver watch he'd recently acquired, noting that his little segment of solitude was likely nearing its end. He knew he'd be expected to be present for Liam's welcome speech and his grandmother's remarks, both of which would probably be underway in roughly twenty minutes or so. Reaching back into his jacket pocket, he fumbled around for the metal flask he'd stowed there earlier. Surely a quick dose of rum would make him more amenable in regards to playing spare for a few more hours.

"Ugh, damn shoes…."

He'd barely uncapped the metallic container when he realized he wasn't alone in a search for temporary solace. The not quite casual sentiment was voiced in a bit of a breathless tone from the courtyard. The soft gasp that followed made him almost sure it wasn't meant to be heard by anyone, but it had gathered his attention despite his previous determination to ignore anything but the concealed libation he was hoping to drink. Killian rocked on his heels a bit before he moved toward the railing with a careful stride, his neck craning to see what was causing the noise from the enclosed area below.

His eyes widened fast before squinting back into focus and his heart quickened, its gentle beat suddenly keeping time with the clicking of shoes that weren't his as he leaned on the engraved barricade in concentration. Killian shook his head once, checking for some sort of a daze as he reminded himself that his view wasn't the work of an alcohol addled brain. Pressing his lips together in a fine line, he stared ahead with little disappointment that his plan to hide out hadn't been foiled by the Queen alone.

No, there was someone else who was apparently looking for the same breath of fresh air he'd been in search of - and she was much more unanticipated than anyone else who could have found him stowing away outside.

Her slow moving and rather intriguing figure was unusually easy to spot despite the lack of daylight in the open space just one flight below where he was standing. Killian's free hand rested gently on the smooth stone balustrades he'd clung to many times over the course of his royal upbringing as he watched her. It should have been more difficult to see in such concealed circumstances, but his curious eyes endeavored to take in the details of the woman who was some sort of stranger to a place he knew far too well. She didn't appear lost but merely stranded in a way he immediately understood and his brow knit as he tried to figure out why he was so instantly labeling her as a kindred spirit. She didn't seem like a royal and he was somehow positive they hadn't met before.

No, he'd remember a girl like this one. The strangely hypnotic sight of her made him sure of that.

It didn't take a keen observer to realize she was completely captivating, but a man with a watchful eye is certainly what she tempted him to be. Her hair was blonde and it tumbled down her back in waves that told a story he didn't know but longed to hear while several strands framed the face he wished he had a better view of. Her dress wasn't over the top - a feat to be admired after the various fashions he'd seen at these events - and the white material clung delicately to her slender body from her shoulders down to the cobblestones and concrete. The pattern it created along her arms and around her collar was harder to decipher beneath the cover of night, but he knew it completed the simple gown elegantly. They didn't typically encourage event guests to explore the courtyard without proper security close by, but Killian was struggling to be annoyed by this particular breach of the rules.

He'd come to the balcony for a few moments of nothing before expectation pushed him back into his second place role. He'd been hoping for some of that rare silence he managed to attain once in awhile and perhaps a quick drink to soothe the demons deep in his soul, but here he was instead - a man with unknown company in the form of this girl and her sense of subtle rebellion.

It didn't take long for him to realize that he had questions - ones that might take more boldness than he'd find inside of his flask. The thought had barely prodded him when he suddenly lost his option of alcohol as the suddenly slippery container tipped off the railing and dropped to the solid ground below with a faint clang.

Dammit, he scolded himself silently as a rush of hot embarrassment filled his cheeks. So much for grace and good form.

"Son of a b-...I mean, uh," a quavering yet sweet voice started, the sound of pure curiosity meeting his ears. "Is….someone up there?"

Killian slumped slightly, his posture pulling him back out of sight a moment as conflict filled his head. He knew she was looking for him - or well, someone - with what were surely very focused eyes. He could feel the silent burn of her searching as he took a slow breath and adjusted his hold on the firm stone barrier. His palms pressed flat against the granite as his eyebrows furrowed and the reminder of who he was sunk back in, putting a pause on the nervousness his clumsy move had created.

Nervous? Why was he nervous?

Sure, he'd made a slight fool of himself even if he did remain unseen and perhaps he'd been staring a bit too long. He wasn't exactly being the gentleman he knew he could be, but Killian soon recalled one fact that shoved him back into a realm of cocky confidence.

He was a prince - one with a respected connection to the building surrounding them - and she was the one who was very much out of bounds. He didn't exactly have to be a gentleman in this case.

"I, uh….sorry, lass," he said as he straightened himself and cleared his throat quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She peered up at him with the most beautiful sense of bewilderment he'd ever seen, her lips quirking up into a stunned smirk that faded as fast as it had arrived and her eyes fell upon him cautiously. Killian didn't know a simple look like the one she was offering could make his pulse pound and his mind race chaotically, but as he looked down to where she was waiting, he found himself distracted by every detail she possessed.

She'd removed her shoes - well, one of them anyway - and the dark heel had been dangling from her fingers while she was walking. He wondered a moment if her uneven footwear was the cause of the annoyed exclamation that had first alerted him to her presence and he mused slightly at the idea of her being an actual Cinderella type.

He retracted the idea almost immediately however. She didn't really seem like a typical princess - or at least she definitely wasn't like the ones he'd met before.

"Oh, you….you didn't," she fibbed in a rather unconvincing fashion. "I just didn't think….anyone else would be out here."

"Oh - well, I'd dare say our state of surprise in that area is….equal," he returned, his shoulders relaxing as he slipped back into his charming routine. "With the exception of you being down there rather than up here, lass."

"Can't really blame me though," she told him with a gesture toward the platform he'd been using as a hideout. "Kind of a highlight of this place, isn't it?"

"I suppose it's somewhat of a sight to behold, though typically palace visitors aren't encouraged to be out here without staff - and almost never at night."

"Oh, I didn't….know," she stammered with a glance toward the glass covered entryway. "I guess I should have realized-"

"Oh - no, it's okay, lass," he cut in with a voice of understanding. "I….won't tell."

Killian felt his stomach flip flop the moment the reassurance left his lips. He wasn't sure where the need to keep some menial secret came from, but he couldn't deny that he liked the idea of the small connection it build between them. He knew he should prompt her to head inside - it may have even been his royal duty to do so. Yet as he watched her conflicted position, he decided that wasn't the route he was about to take.

He wanted to see just how this spontaneous encounter was about to play out, even if it meant bending the regal code just a bit.

"Something about that decision makes me think maybe you're not supposed to be out here either," she concluded with a tilt of her head, her words making him nearly drop his suave facade. "How'd you even get up there?"

He had managed his stealthy escape to the balcony by way of the knowledge he'd gathered over the years, his feet well aware of just which staircases to climb and what doors to slip through. He mulled her question over as he wondered if confessing his title and the information that came with it was wise.

Maybe not, he decided silently. As much as he wanted to know more about her, he knew putting himself on a pedestal probably wouldn't invite her to be honest. It wasn't that he planned on lying, but rather just….not offering her the whole truth. His teeth toyed with his tongue as he convinced himself that it was the fair road to take.

After all, he'd likely never see her again once they left this conversation behind.

"All about who you know I guess," he said vaguely, leaning forward a little. "So what brings you out here?"

"Oh, I….well, I just-" she tried with a soft exhale. "-I guess I'm not really fond of this sort of thing."

"The gala or your current chat with the stranger on the balcony?"

She laughed lightly, a sound that suddenly drew his mouth into an amused smile. He bit back the reaction almost instantly while hoping she hadn't noticed. The surrounding night plus his higher position had given Killian some kind of interesting upper hand and he decided it was best to hold onto it.

"Royal gatherings in general I guess," she explained. "I was just hoping to get some air before the formal stuff starts. I'm guessing you're doing the same?"

"Something like that," he chuckled as he tried to maintain his masquerade of mystery. "I'm not much for this stuff either."

"So you're not a Navy guy?"

"Can't say that I am," he divulged. "I'm afraid it does run in the family though."

"Mine too - well, at least with my dad. He kind of coerced me into attending the ceremony tonight."

Killian tilted his head a fraction, studying her slim outline in inquiry. He hadn't pondered the thought that she was there for such an rational reason. He knew it was mostly because he'd been so consumed with his own misery, but it seemed like she was very much in the same boat - pun not at all intended.

"I guess I just….have a hard time with this whole 'hanging out with royalty concept'," she continued with a sigh. "No offense to tradition, but the whole system of crowns and thrones just feels a bit archaic."

Killian felt his stance go rigid as he absorbed her slight accusation. It was quickly obvious that she didn't know who he was and he wondered what else he might tempt her to say - a chivalrous approach be damned. It wasn't fair to do what he was considering, but his curiosity was too strong to brush off.

"Aye, definitely can be it seems," he agreed with a bit of smugness. "Pretentious for sure - maybe even with a little entitlement. You've met them I take it? The Royal family?"

He waited anxiously for her answer, his wondering as to whether she'd crossed paths with his father or Cora or even Liam making him simmer with an underlying emotion he couldn't pinpoint. He couldn't explain why he cared about what she'd been up to, but his desire to hear about what she'd been immersed in while inside was tangled up in a need to know.

"Just briefly," she answered. "The older son of the heir only though. He's actually a genuinely nice guy from what I could gather - he knew my dad."

It was difficult to ignore that strange pang of something in his stomach, but Killian tried to do so as he tapped his fingers on the railing. He knew later he'd probably think more about just how this mystery girl and his brother had met, but for now, he had more inquiries to resolve.

"Ah, I'm sure he is," Killian countered with an evasive curiosity. "Didn't run into his brother though?"

"Prince….Killian or something, right? No, I didn't," she answered, her voice curling around his name in a way that fascinated him. "I'm not even sure if he even decided to attend this thing tonight."

Killian shifted on the heels of his new shoes as he mused at her conclusion. There was an impulse to react, but he fought back his instincts as he decided to prod her a little more. What she'd surely say was probably not anything he hadn't been labeled as before, but his defenses lifted while he found a response.

"Yeah, he doesn't really seem like the type for a formal affair like this," he fibbed. "What led you to that particular verdict though?"

"Well, you just hear things….and read things."

Of course she'd fallen victim to the somewhat true and false reports he'd stacked up in those several years between his gap year and Sandhurst - possibly even a few tales from his younger and very cavalier life as well. While she had every right to make the same assumptions others did, Killian found himself slightly irritated that she'd done so.

After all, she didn't know him - and they'd never even met as far as she knew.

"I suppose he's something of a wild card," he retorted evenly. "Kind of the black sheep from what one can tell. You've got to wonder what drives that rebellion of his."

"Can't say I know much about him, but I'd doubt it's rebellion as drastic as drinking on the Buckingham balcony," she teased as she leaned down to retrieve his dropped flask. "I don't think even a guy who kinda owns this place would be that bold. I'm surprised you are."

Killian smiled, trying to shove aside the slightly jabbing feel of that guilty thorn in his side. He briefly pondered the idea of calling her on her vague judgements, but she did know his name - and maybe there was a chance she would match his face to the moniker as well. He wasn't ready to risk that, but as he felt the air thicken, he summoned another idea.

Turnabout's fair play, he decided as his tongue lingered on his bottom lip.

"Maybe not," he started smoothly. "But I suppose it's only fair I get to know name of the woman who plans to turn me in?"

"It doesn't seem that fair actually," she replied, her hand still holding tight to the flask. "You haven't told me yours."

A couple of different possibilities - or rather, tiny lies - ran through his mind as tried to pick the path of least destruction. The truth wasn't an option and the ticking minutes weren't about to allot him much more time to entertain his anonymity. He couldn't leave her without an answer though.

The question of how he was supposed to go about telling this girl about his all too formal identity wasn't about to fade away, but an answer he could deem suitable wasn't within grasp. Killian pressed his lips together in consideration as frustration built a dilemma between them. How exactly do you go about casually divulging that you're one of the two princes the world knows rather well?

You don't, he thought in silent resolution - so he wasn't going to.

"I'm….nobody too important, love," he finally said, cowardice taking hold of his tone. "But you-"

His deflecting statement was suddenly cut short by the sound of distant applause, the sort that beckoned him back inside with a twinge of warning. Killian felt his nerves liven as he looked quickly at his watch only to find how late he was. Only about five minutes - but his brother was still definitely going to kill him.

"I guess that's a cue," she told him, a half smile tugging cleverly at her lips. "For me, at least."

"Aye, it seems so," he agreed as he tried to cling to a few more seconds of whatever this was. "Good luck in there - and sorry for….infringing on your escape. I suppose we can keep each other's secret, right?"

"I guess we should," she assured him as she battled with her shoe once more. "The company wasn't too bad actually though so….thanks for that."

He smirked quietly as he found he couldn't manage to disagree. He hadn't told her much of anything - not many of the actual facts, of course - but his side of the conversation wasn't full of complete dishonesty. He wasn't a man of great importance, especially in terms of this particular evening. She hadn't been wrong about him and his avoiding ways either. It hardly mattered though - this wasn't anything but two isolated ships passing on a rather dull night.

"Hey, umm," she said with a inquiry heavy on her breath. "This isn't the part where you kidnap me for ransom or something when I try to return to the palace, right? Because I don't really have much to offer in the way of royal riches."

He perked up slightly at the sound of good humored and possibly somewhat concerned question. His heart seemed quicken a bit as kept her stare trained on him. There was a cleverness to this girl he'd never planned on meeting and he let a smile slowly encompass his lips as they soaked in the last few moments of their bantering conversation.

"Wasn't planning on it," he laughed lightly. "I've got a few other things to attend to, fortunately for you."

"Okay, good….and in that case-" she replied with a small pause. "It's Emma. I'm Emma, I mean."

Blinking lazily, Killian gave the letters a second to rearrange themselves in his head. He watched the night carefully conceal the slender shape of the the girl who'd become a little less of an enigma with the breath of that single name.

"Emma," he repeated to himself with a surreal smirk.

For a night meant to be shrouded in defeated dread, it was sure shaping up to be strangely victorious.

Killian found himself immediately distracted as he moved through the grandiose doors and back into the packed ballroom. He wasn't totally sure how many attendees had been slated for the evening's festivities, but certainly hadn't prepared to see quite this many. The majority of the guests were men - both decorated sailors and other government officials alike - and the presence of heroic medals adorned with the utmost valor was staggering. It seemed that most of them had arrived alongside a companion and the mix of well dressed wives and dolled up girlfriends instantly made him wonder.

Where had she gone?

He'd been tempted to follow her inside the moment she left his sight and perhaps intercept her trek back toward the main stage, but retrieving his flask from the statue base where she'd left it was a more necessary task to undertake. He couldn't chance leaving unattended alcohol near such a popular point of the palace grounds, especially because he knew it might be traced back to him given his recent bout with the stuff. He'd ducked outside fast once more upon reaching the lower level, snatching the container and slipping it back into his jacket with haste. It was tempting to linger there in an effort to take in the same air she'd been breathing only moments earlier, but the vibration of his phone as it nearly fell out of his opposite pocket was a reminder that someone was surely irritated with his absence - and it didn't take a bloody scholar to figure out just who.

"Dammit, Killian," Liam hissed, grabbing his arm as they met to the side of the presentation platform. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Take it easy, Liam," he bit back, shaking off his sibling's hold. "I said I'd be here and I'm here. Right on time too so don't get your knickers in a bind."

The queen's opening words were well underway and Killian focused on her presence for a moment. She never failed to make leadership look so properly effortless, her etiquette perfect as ever as she vocalized her gratitude for the service of the Navy men and the sacrifices they made. He'd always loved watching his grandmother speak and the fact that Liam was so determined to interrupt his listening was annoying on a level only his older brother could manage.

"I am quite sure it's not me who's about to be a little frantic," Liam said in a hushed tone as he shoved a crisp note card toward him. "You've been recruited to help."

Killian narrowed his eyes in confusion before his sight fell to the thick paper he'd just been handed. The flawless speech his grandmother was delivering became a dull mumble in his ears as he processed what was scrawled in perfect penmanship his stare battled with.

No, he thought as his heartbeat faltered a bit. No, no, no.

"Hey, calm down," Liam said, clapping him on the shoulder as he sensed the multiplying waves of anxiety crashing into the room. "She just wants you to say a bit - welcome a few people is all. Then it's all me, brother."

The whole thing should be you, Killian thought with a hard swallow. He had barely been able to coax himself through the palace doors earlier and now it was being requested that he take the space behind the podium for a few simple lines.

Well, they'd be simple for anyone else - the Queen, his older brother, probably even his ill father - but the tension in his body and the numbness of his tongue told him this was not going to be any sort of easy. When it came to public speaking, 'simple' wasn't in the cards for him.

"Once again, we are elated to have each and every one of you here this evening to celebrate all you do in the service of our country," Gran said with a formal farewell tone before glancing toward the pair of them. "Before we continue celebrating our guests receiving high honors, my grandsons have a brief message they would like to share. I ask you to welcome them not only as wonderful representatives of the throne but also as fellow servicemen. I know their gratitude certainly ranks alongside my own. Without further ado, two of our royal Captains I'm delighted to have here tonight - Liam and Killian of Wales, representing the Royal Navy and the British Army respectively."

The applause in the large room was deafening enough to drown out the anxiousness flowing through Killian's veins as he followed his older brother up the few steps to where their quick speech would commence. He was loathe to look up over the seemingly endless crowd as Liam adjusted the microphone and put on his most charming smile. The heir in him was obvious as he vocalized his prepared words smoothly, his confidence never wavering as the blur of faces looked on. He'd always had a way with commanding attention while still inviting adoration.

That trait had skipped over Killian and replaced itself with the handsome but slight arrogance he was trying to muster as Liam nodded, beckoning him closer.

"We are, uh, beyond grateful to have such an esteemed audience here this evening. Each of you sacrifice and strive to….make our country a better, safer place," Killian started, hoping he wasn't mimicking his brother too obviously - it wasn't like he'd been paying attention. "We are thrilled to welcome back to service several men who've….who've risked more for our citizens and sovereign than could ever be expected."

Catching Gran's hopeful smile followed by Liam's steadying gaze nearly sent him into autopilot, his remaining speech hazy and his hands still trembling by the time his brother took over again. Liam's short biographies for the handful of honorable attendees the royal family was recognizing sounded faintly in his ears as he scanned the crowd. He was too busy trying to calm his shaken spirit to realize just what he was scouring the silent group of people for - until he found it.

Well, until he spotted her, of course - and lord, she was even more curiously captivating beneath the low lighting encircling them.

He nearly missed it - a fast flash of shock and knowing drifting over her features as their gazes fused quietly. It was a war he suddenly felt destined to lose so he could gain something even he didn't understand and his brain fought like mad to recall the name she'd left him with. It was a task of quick deduction, but not one that completely drowned out his brother's resumed introductory sentences.

"We feel especially advantageous on this particular evening to extend a hand to one of our most respected leaders of the armed forces - Admiral David Nolan, a man who had truly braved a variety of treacherous waters in order to be here with us now," Liam carried on as Killian held onto the stare of the graceful woman adorned in a pale lace dress. "We feel beyond fortunate for his presence and wish to offer a warm welcome to the supportive family he has joining him tonight-"

Killian took in the nervous sight of her as she glanced sideways, the breaking of their eye contact making his eyes follow hers. It wasn't difficult to piece it all together, even with the view of the woman he'd spent the evening fixated on. Killian's stomach sunk slowly as he watched the Admiral being recognized - pristine blue uniform, proud stance, an expression that seemed emotional as well as grateful all at once, and the accompanying grace of a dark haired woman at his side. There was another notable presence in close proximity to the honored couple - the one of the unknown girl who'd tilted his regal world slightly off its axis only a fraction of time ago.

Not possible, Killian told himself as realization slammed into him.

"-Mrs. Mary Margaret Nolan and their daughter, Emma."

Everything seemed to freeze in place as her wide eyes beamed with recognition, the moment of them placing one another much more intense than either could have planned on. Bloody hell, Killian thought as Liam's sudden elbow to his ribs pried his gaze away from hers. Of course this would happen to him. Of course he'd end up in such awkward circumstances.

The beautiful blonde from the courtyard was the Admiral's daughter - and her current embarrassed expression confirmed that she knew exactly who he was.

Tagging some lovely folks: @xpumpkindumplingx, @themmaswan, @harryandthecambridges, @spartanguard, @eala-captian, @allietumbles, @kmomof4, @laschatzi, @galadriel26, @timeless-love-story, @lifeinahole27, @kat2609, @msres, @captainswanismyendgame, @lovelycssefan, @hooksheroicheart, @captain-odonoghue, @gonzothegreat90, @cat-sophia, @rebelcxptain, @prairiepirate, @yesplskillianjones, @jennjenn615, @xhookswenchx, @heomomka, @fckyesroyals, @lenfazreads, @cherrywolf713, @lucasxdorothy, @hollyethecurious, @fairytalesandtimetravel, @lillyanjones, @pirateherokillian, @shipsxahoy, @phiralovesloki, @jscoutfinch *Just send me a message if you’d like a tag in future chapters :)

#cs ff #cs au ff #cs royal au #prince!killian #cs fic update #finally #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #the other prince

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