#stay out of the water if you can’t handle the sharks brother

[babyboywinchester]

LURKING IN THE SHADOWS?

LMAO.

Bitch, I live out in the OPEN. Us Wincesties aren’t hiding in the fucking bushes… we’ve been here since the beginning. It’s not our fault y’all came to our habitat and started building your shit little condominiums and then wanted to loudly complain about the local wildlife… if it wasn’t for us y’all wouldn’t have shit. Do not bite the hand that feeds.

sorry but the "trying to get rid of us" part.... like we were here from literally day one. you came into OUR house and decided the show was about something that it's not. also, even if we weren't here from the beginning, we deserve to be here every bit as you do. why are you trying to gatekeep fandom, when it's always been for the freaks. especially on the incest family horror show

[azucar-skull]

Never Underestimate

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @riseleon)

Fandom: Rise of the TMNT

Prompt: Rise leo getting trapped under water

Word Count: 1873

Posted on AO3 too!

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As far as Leo’s concerned, being a turtle is great. He gets to bathe in warm sunlight and heat lamps, tuck into the natural armor that is his shell. And the best part…

Splash!

Swimming is a breeze.

Leo happily dives into the ocean waters during a beach day out with his brothers. The second they hit the sand, Leo was already beelining for the water. The cool salty ocean waves wash over Leo’s scales as he swims back up to the surface and bobs his head out. He spots Mikey paddling over to him with a beaming smile.

“I told you to wait up for me!”, Mikey laughs. “I’m not that fast a swimmer as you.”

“What’s that? Sorry. Couldn’t hear you over the ocean calling my name.”

Mikey scoffs lightheartedly as he splashes water into Leo’s face. Leo reciprocates a menacing grin as he splashes a big wave of water back at his brother. The two cackle and laugh, splashing each other with water as the waves and ripples of the ocean rock them against each other. After enough splashing, Leo dives into the water again and swims further out.

“Where are you going?”, Mikey calls out.

“I just wanna try out the big waves!”, Leo calls back.

“You don’t even have a surfboard!”

“Don’t need one! My shell is a natural board!”

Leo grins widely as he heads for the bigger waves. The moon visible in the daytime pulls up the waves larger and larger until they tower over Leo. Leo braces himself as the ocean comes crashing down on him and pushes him back towards the shore. Leo can’t help the laugh underwater as he is swept away, coming back up for air and swimming back out to ride the waves again.

He dives under the water to get some momentum against the choppy waves but finds himself getting dragged off to the side despite the fact he is trying to go forward. He comes back up for air to get a better look at his surroundings but finds Mikey swimming back towards him.

“Leo, be careful! You’re getting too close to the currents!”, the box turtle calls out.

Ohhhhh right. Currents. Leo forgot that was a thing.

“Don’t worry, hermanito! It’s just a little tug. I’m an aquatic turtle, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”, Leo reassures.

“Pretty sure Donnie said that sliders are semi-aquatic.”, Mikey gripes.

The slider rolls his eyes. “Yeah, uh-huh, and box turtles are terrestrial. So just stay over there, I’ll get myself out.”

Leo takes a deep breath and dives deeper into the water to get an advantage against the current. But the waves pull up higher and higher, sweeping Leo up with it. Eugh boy… The waves crash down and toss Leo back into the current, a tunnel of water and momentum barreling Leo down down down towards the ocean floor. And before Leo knows it, he crashes into the ground.

Leo winces under his breath, since… he kind of needs that breath for the moment. Welp, no time to wait around. Leo needs to get back up to the surface. The turtle goes to kick off the ocean floor but is yanked back by his other leg getting caught in a tangle of coral. The sharp coral cuts his leg rubbing ocean salt into the wound. Leo holds back a muffled scream as he grabs his leg, trying to break free. But it’s no use.

He’s stuck.

Mikey treads above the water, waiting anxiously for Leo to come back up. But he hasn’t. Minutes start to pass by.

It’s okay, Mikey, Leo’s a turtle. He can hold his breath for a good half hour.

But what if he’s trapped? Or hurt? Or eaten by a shark?! …Do sharks even even turtles?

Welp, no time to fuck around and find out. Mikey dives under the water for any sign of Leo but he can’t find him. Not wanting to dive deeper and get himself swept by the waves, the box turtle has no choice but to retreat back to shore. In the distance, he can spot his other brothers on the shore. Donnie is busy burying Raph underneath the sand.

“RAPH! DONNIE!”, Mikey calls for them as he paddles back to shore.

“Eh? What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy burying Raph?”, Donnie snarks.

“Yeah! Raph is succumbing to the sand!”, Raph grins.

Mikey groans, rolling his eyes as he hurries out of the shallows and runs up to them.

“Leo went under the currents and hasn’t come back up yet!”, he exasperates.

“Leo…what?!”, Raph shouts as he breaks out of his sand mound.

“No! My progress!”, Donnie whines. “Look, Mikey, Leo’s fine. He can hold his breath for a half hour, he probably found something cool. Here, I’ll track him.”

Donnie takes out his mystic tech gauntlet to track down Leo’s location. A map with a blinking blue dot in the water.

“See? Completely fine. He’s just… 300 METERS DOWN???”, Donnie exclaims.

“WHAT?!”, Raph and Mikey shout in sync.

Donnie groans out a long heavy sigh as he starts shedding off his gear. Raph does the same and the two start heading for the water.

“I swear, Leo so owes me after this.”, Donnie mutters.

Mikey gingerly follows his brothers back to the water, feeling uncertain. He can’t swim very well. Can’t hold his breath long enough either. The oldest catches on to his hesitance.

“Don’t worry, Mikes, just hang back here in case Leo returns, okay?”, Raph gives Mikey a reassuring grin.

“Uh…yeah, sure.”, Mikey nods. “Will do.”

Raph nods back and continues to follow Donnie into the water. Mikey watches with anticipation as his brothers dive under neath the waves. He can’t help but feel so useless at the moment.

There must be something he can do.

Raph dives into the water, following after Donnie. Out of all the turtles, Donnie might just be the fastest. Raph can hardly keep up with him. But soon enough, the brains and brawn are diving deeper and deeper into the vast oceanscape of the Atlantic. Before he knows it, he sees plumes of blood. His eyes widen in concern, Donnie turning back around to share his own concern.

The softshell nods his head at the blood and the two continue swimming. Soon enough, they find Leo. The poor kid is struggling to get his leg free from a tangle of coral that’s cutting up his leg. His face distressed, he’s probably running out of air. Raph takes the initiative, heading down and prying away at the coral. Donnie follows suit, trying to pull Leo out.

Raph almost gets Leo loose when the slider muffles a scream. The snapper glances up at him and sees his eyes are set on something behind him. Raph turns around to see…

A shark.

Of course, it’s a shark.

Raph doesn’t know what kind of shark it is but it is definitely bigger and more menacing than a great white. The shark must’ve been drawn to the smell of Leo’s blood. Oh boy, this ain’t good. Before Raph could ever think, the shark darts towards them. Raph yelps, losing some air bubbles in the process as he ducks from the shark’s advances. Leo yells too as he tries to dodge, losing the last of his air. Then he begins to choke. NOT GOOD! NOT GOOD!!!

Raph yanks Leg’s leo to break free but it’s stuck under good. The shark turns back around, charging at them again. And Raph has had it. His body becomes engulfed in mystic red energy as he delivers an uppercut to the shark’s jaw. Now Raph’s let to wrestle the shark as Donnie is still trying to free Leo who is actively drowning. Things aren’t looking good.

Then Raph spots something glowing in the distance. Oh great, what now? The glowing ball of light gets closer and closer. A distinct color of orange wrapped around in mystic chains and

IS THAT FUCKING MIKEY?

Mikey comes barreling down in a shielding bubble of air, somewhat flying through the water as he stretches out his shield bubbles to engulf his brothers. Finally no longer under the pressure of needing to catch air, Raph catches his breath. Then Mikey whips out his mystic chains and wraps them around the shark, throwing the creature back out into the deep sea far far away. Raph can’t help but look in awe at his magnificent little brother. Mikey really is something special, Raph can’t lie. This is the same kid that chucked a skyscraper at the Kraang. He could probably lasso the moon if he wanted to-

“Oh look, wouldn’t you know? Mikey’s lassoing the moon.”, Donnie mutters from his air bubble.

Raph looks at where Donnie’s pointing and sees Mikey as he shoots out one of his mystic chains high up into the stratosphere and breathing across the gravitations of the Earth to lasso the daytime moon, pulling the moon closer to the Earth which causes the ocean to be pulled more and more. Under the tugs of the ocean, Mikey wraps his chains around Leo and pulls him free. The box turtle tosses the moon back into its orbit, causing the pull on the ocean to plummet.

The mystic warrior uses his chains to grab hold of his brothers and flies them back to shore. Now safely on land, the mystic energy dissipates. The turtles collapse against the sand, Mikey heaving and shaking as if he just ran a marathon while carrying a million tons of iron weights. Raph hurries over to his youngest brother, scooping him up.

“Mikey! Are you alright?”, Raph shouts.

Mikey heaves, still catching his breath. But gives a shaky thumbs up. Then his eyes look to the side. “Is…huff…is Leo…okay?”

Raph follows his gaze and sees Donnie crouched beside the slider who is left lying on the beach unconscious. Raph gets up, carrying Mikey over to the others. Donnie’s gaze is laser focused as he checks Leo’s wrist for a pulse.

“C’mon, Leo, c’mon......”, Raph mutters.

Suddenly, Leo jolts up, coughing and sputters before water spits out of his lungs and splashes all over Donnie. The softshell whines and squirms as he falls back, frantically wiping the water vomit off him.

“UGH! LEO! EUGH! COME ON!”, Donnie gripes.

Raph lets out a relieved chuckle at Donnie’s antics while Leo gasps for air. The slider heaves and pants before glancing up at Mikey.

“Eugh… Took you guys long enough.”, he smirks weakly.

Mikey lightly smacks Leo on the head. “Yeah!....hhh…Don’t do that again, got it?” Mikey heaves once more. “Man…I’m…huff…I’m ready for a nap.

“Heh, ditto.”, Raph chuckles. He scoops up Leo and Donnie in his arms as well. “Come on, gang. Let’s head home.”

Raph can’t help but be so relieved and grateful to have his brothers back safe and sound. And it’s always a pleasant surprise to see Mikey shocking everyone once again with his incredible mystic abilities. There’s no stopping that kid from throwing skyscrapers or lassoing the moon. It’s an endearing thought as it is terrifying.

There is no limit that Mikey would push through for his brothers.

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I love the idea of Mikey being OP as fuck leave me be ;-;

[remmushound]

Chapter 9 - Dinner Drama!

Summary: The Splintersons have a look around the home and then try to enjoy their dinner with their hosts.

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr @ilo-artistry

After a swift perimeter check to ease their nerves, the visitors finally started to settle into the lair. It was still so new, so enclosed, that Leo couldn’t see himself being comfortable any time soon. Not until he could confidently locate all the exits, and all the entrances, and where weapons were stored. Not until everything was as secure and as open as his lair was. It wasn’t his right to change the place, but it was his right to not feel comfortable when there were so many places enemies could be hiding unseen. So many dark corners, concealed cubbies that could be hiding threats. So much potential for danger.

When Leo got an opportunity alone with Leonardo, he immediately knew what he wanted to ask. “Hey Leonardo, is your Raph still… you know, calling the shots?”

Leonardo had been anticipating that question all day. He gave a pointedly loud sigh and rolled his eyes as he slumped around to be facing his counterpart, “You ask that every time we see each other. You know that?”

Leo felt his cheek grow hot and his head shrank slightly. Trying to save face, he was quick to defend himself. “Well— a lot can change in six months!”

“Six months…” Leonardo sighed again, and this time it was more genuine and heavy. The revelation of just how long it had been washed over him like an icy bucket of water. Yes, it had been six months, hadn’t it? The time seemed to slip away from him. “Yeah… and a lot has changed. But that hasn’t.”

“I just figured… your whole situation would have changed by now. Especially with you boys growing up.” Leo made an effort to explain, awkward now that he knew he was wrong in his assumption. And he had been so certain too! Since he and his brothers had arrived, Leonardo was acting so confident, so much like a leader! Had Leo just imagined all that?

“Well you figured wrong.” Leonardo said, and now his voice had a defensive edge, “Raphael is just as capable as ever. He is and will always be our leader. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, no, not at all!” Leo put his hands up in an offering of peace, “i was just wondering.”

“Yeah.” Leonardo made sure to side-check Leo as he passed, “Sure you were.”

~~~

“Hey little Mike, you got a minute?” Raph waved at the smaller version of his brother.

Michelangelo looked back, and then skipped over to Raph while humming a happy, upbeat tune. “You’re really risking it all by calling me little again~! What do you need?”

“Er…” It took Raph a second to brush past the threat laced into the happy voice, “Just… y’know… I saw a pool during the tour and was wonderin’ if it was recreational or jus’ for training?”

“Well we usually swim laps in it for warmups, but I don’t see why you couldn’t swim whenever. We got floaties if you need ‘em! Mine have sharks on them!”

Raph grinned. “Do they now?”

Michelangelo nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I’m not allowed to go in the pool without them cause I can’t swim so good.”

“Aw.” Raph nodded along, “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah! I‘m too heavy— I sink like a rock! Can you swim?”

“Eh, more or less.” Raph gave a so-so motion. “If my life depended on it, sure. Never really had much access to water that wasn’t a cesspool or Amazon river.” He shivered at the memory of being dropped in the water, the current pulling him and his brothers along like they were little more than skipping stones.

“Oo! Sounds fun!” Michelangelo chirped, “But do be mindful of Piebald; she likes to swim in there sometimes!”

“Piebald?”

“Oh, she’s a mutant goldfish. She was dad’s pet, but then we flushed her and she mutated and then pretended to hunt us with a hook, but it was really all just an elaborate prank from her and dad to punish us for lying.”

Raph stared. “Oh.”

“Yeah, but she’s totally nice now and not at all sadistic and revenge-driven! No worries.”

“Wasn’t worried at all.” Raph lied.

~~~

After their quick assessment, Leonardo and Donnie had come to the decision that Mikey needed the simplest medicine of all: rest. Raphael had been more than happy to stay with Mikey until the turtles could adjust to the new environment, but exactly when that would happen was anyone's guess. Mikey was sat in Raphael’s bed, wrapped in the snappers heaviest comfort blanket and hugging Cheech as he listened to the snapper chatter with all the joy of a child. Klunk had settled in and was sleeping on Mikey’s lap in a tight orange ball, purring to his hearts content.

“Oh oh oh!” Mikey chirped quickly, “Tell me more about the capybara tell me more about the capybaraaa!”

“His name’s Todd.” Raphael indulged, “He owns a puppy farm in the woods near here.”

“Puppies..” Mikey sniffled softly and hugged Cheech tighter, “This day just keeps getting better and better. Are he and the mantis friends?”

“Todd’s friends with everyone.” Raphael answered.

“Oh my gaaaawwdd…” Mikey fell back down on his carapace, laughing weakly as he stared up at the ceiling. “That’s awesome…”

Raph moved to carefully reposition Cheech in a way that Mikey could still hug him while laying down, fixing the blanket and pillows to make sure the shinobi was as comfortable as possible. Mikey’s eyes were closed now, the stuffed bear drawn to his chest as he laid peacefully. Raphael stood slowly and made his way to the door.

The moment Raphael’s hand touched the handle, Mikey sat up straight. “Where are you going?”

“Oh— sorry. I thought you were asleep.” Raphael said, and he returned to Mikey’s side.

Mikey settled back into the bed, cuddling deeper into the blankets and giving a series of high pitched chirps that eventually faded to nothing. Raphael gave it a few more minutes before slowly getting up and going to leave again.

Like Dracula out of his coffin, Mikey sat up again and spoke so suddenly that Raphael couldn’t help but flinch. “What about the other mutants?”

Raphael took a deep breath as he spun around on his heels to face the turtle who still wasn’t asleep. “What do you wanna about them?”

Mikey grinned. “Everything!”

***


Donnie didn't think anything could top him meeting Shelldon that night— and then he saw Donatello’s lab for the first time. The beautifully artistic designs mixed with a generally futuristic style made for a gorgeous display of technological genius . Just like Donnie’s own lab, Donatello had several screens activated at once, scanners and alarms and traps all set to be activated at the simple trip of a sensor. The entire room was lit up in a peculiar violet hue, almost as if it was under one big black light. If that was the case, then Donatello certainly kept his room spotless.

“Oh my kami…” Donnie gulped, his eyes emeralds in the darkness. “Can I live here? I wanna live here…”

“You gotta pay rent.” Donatello said.

“I’d give anything to have my lab like this!”

“Would you give your right cornea?” Donatello leaned against the wall.

“Eh, my eyes are useless. I would give up a kidney or a gallbladder though.” 

“I’ll grab the bone saw.”

“I’ll sign the consent form…”

***

“Dinner is served!” Michelangelo presented a simple dish of pizza gyoza to the table; one could say it was just homemade pizza rolls, but that ruined the magic! Besides, they were more doughy like a dumpling than anything crunchy. 

The two families were gathered around and eager to eat, seated around two tables that had been pressed together to make enough room for ten diners; each set of brothers were on opposite sides of the table, while the heads of the table were reserved for the Splinter’s. The absence of one of the two fathers didn't go unnoticed.

“Itadakimasu.” Splinter said to the proud Michelangelo, “The food looks delicious. Won’t your father be joining us?”

Another chill came to the room. Another exchange of unsettled looked.

“Dad asked not to be disturbed.” Leonardo said simply.

The Hamato family turned their eyes to their food, working with the same mind to scarf down the gyoja as fast as possible, filling their mouths so they wouldn’t have to speak. The Splinterson family took the same opportunity to look around at each other, all but Mikey having the same, constricted looks on their faces; Mikey was already lost in his own mind, his eyes blank as he smiled and shoveled the offered dinner into his mouth.

“Surely your father would prefer to eat his supper while it is still hot?” Splinter insisted.

Raphael stood abruptly. His plastron bumped into the table and made the dishes clink and glasses splash with the force of his motion, but chair screaming as it was pushed back.

“You know what? You’re right.” Raphael hurried to gather another plate and pile it with gyoji, his eyes avoiding Splinter’s as he piled the dinner on a tray with freshly brewed tea. “I’ll bring this to him right away.”

When Raphael left, he took the conversation with him. He returned minutes later but the air of the room remained quiet and tense. Eager to break the silence, Leo finished off the last of his gyoji.

“Gochi sou sama deshita.” He said, and bowed to Michelangelo, “And while I am thankful for your hospitality— we all are— this isn’t a social visit. We really need to get back to our world. Can your gift do that, Donatello?”

“Should be able to.” Donatello said with a nod, “It was designed for two trips, here and back.”

“Great, then what are we waiting for?” Leo looked around for an answer but no one offered one, “Those creatures are still in our world, could be targeting our people, our city!”

“We need a plan first Leo.” Donnie tried to reason, “We can’t just run in blind.”

“Then we should be planning instead of just hanging out!”

“Can’t plan on an empty stomach.” Michelangelo said, pointing his chopsticks at Leo. “We’re eating!”

A sharp hiss came from Leo’s throat. “Don’t. Point. It’s rude.”

Michelangelo put his chopsticks back down and shrank away from the violent hiss, the retreat as instinctual to him as going into his shell.

“Leonardo…” Splinter tried to reason, “Please settle down and allow us to have a nice supper before discussing.”

“But we need to discuss this now!”

Leo’s disobedience of his father made his brothers gasp, Raph pulling back slightly while Mikey even broke out of his minds wandering to tune back in. Leo flinched at his backtalk and fell into a quick, clumsy bow.

“Shitsurei shimashita, sensei.” Leo said in a low voice before regaining his composure, “I just feel like these guys aren’t taking this situation seriously.”

“And I feel like you expect us to pull a solution out of our asses.” Leonardo hissed back.

“Now now, there’s no need for vulgarity…” Splinter tried.

“I’m not suggesting that you have the answers, I suggesting we need to find them instead of doing house tours!” Leo snarled back.

“If you don’t like it, you can get out.” Leonardo didn't back down.

“Leo, it’s fine, cool it.” Donnie tried to mediate, grabbing a hold of his brother’s arm; he was almost convinced Leo might lunge over the table at his smaller counterpart if this went on for much longer.

“I am cool!” Leo pulled his arm free, knocking Donnie back in the process. That got Raph involved, the box turtle standing up ready to confront his brother. Before he got so much as a word out, however…

“Everybody COOL IT!” Raphael slammed his fists down on the table.

The table splintered under Raphael’s slamming weight, chips of wood flying out like dangerous projectiles. The words, with all the force of a hurricane knocking trees out from their roots, brought a silent stalemate. Raphael looked pissed. His eyes were white, entire body like a taut wire that would snap at the slightest breaths. His nostrils flares, and when he had screamed, white, foaming spittle flew across the table. Now, it dripped down his lopsided jaw and chin.

“Not another word.” Raphael said, this time calmer as he left the table once more. All eyes followed him to the doorway to find a small, gray rat standing there watching them.

Yoshi’s mouth was pulled down in a tight frown, eyes glossy. His paws, shaky as they were, held his tray of dirty dishes that he had been intent on cleaning; for now, he just… stared. His fur seemed several shades paler, his hair tangled and unkept, and though it was hard to tell through the clothes. he looked skinny. The mutant looked around at the table, at the turtles and the rat he had paid many visits to, but when his eyes passed over them they held no recollection. No memory. Just dark confusion, empty and cold.

“Dad…” Leonardo said softly, but at Raphael’s threatening chuff, Leonardo said nothing more.

“Hey pops— here, let me get that for you…” Raphael took the tray from his father and hurried over to throw them haphazardly into the sink. He came back after, his massive hand completely engulfing Yoshi’s back to guide the old rat away away. Yoshi followed the snapper at a slow gait, though his feet dragged as if they were made of the heaviest lead and it took a while for him to get anywhere. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed okay?”

Everyone watched as the father and son disappeared out of the dining room, none of them daring to breathe, nonetheless utter a word.

[in-tua-deep]

13, 14 and 15 for Five!

man y’all are feral for these ones let me see what they are...

13. What gets them flustered

HMMM well flustered means to make (someone) agitated or confused.

Which means... calling or insinuating that Five is either a child (tagging a ‘little’ onto brother, young man, etc.) or incapable - unfortunately he can perceive several different things as calling him incapable/weak such as... insinuating that he needs sleep or to take a break

Anyone expressing any kind of soft emotions or that they care about him makes him... a little confused to say the least. He’s spent a really long time alone, and while he has some vague success at having heart to hearts where he’s the one talking (telling Klaus about Dolores, talking to Luther, etc.) as soon as the tables turn and they try and express any kind of appreciation or concern for him he has to brush it off, or jump away into a cab, or get defensive and yell (he is not an addict, Klaus)

He doesn’t know how to handle anything soft or considerate. Nothing like that was really present during his childhood - he was never especially close with Grace, not like Diego was at least. Certainly there wasn’t room to be soft in the apocalypse, except on occasion with Dolores, but his focus was primarily on the duel purpose of survival and saving his siblings. And certainly not at the Commission. 

So it does make him agitated and confused and flustered when people care about him. He’s not used to it. He’s used to being the one caring. Even Dolores - she was a reflection of himself and there’s a reason in the comics she was more than a little mean to him at times. There’s a reason why the Handler liked to try and unsettle him by caressing him face and complimenting him so sweetly.

14. Ingrained habits/forces of habit

oh I think Five has a LOT of ingrained habits left over from the apocalypse and fending for himself since he was a small child

Food hoarding and resource guarding would be big ones tbh, he’s had food insecurity for a long time and in season one I never saw him eat so he might just generally be uncomfortable eating in front of other people - a strong sense of this is mine and protectiveness that comes from having very very little

Most of that protectiveness is centered around his family tbh but if his siblings tried to make him give up... his old battered copy of Vanya’s book, for example, I doubt it would go very well. Luther threatening Dolores was not taken very well to say the least, and Luther was only saved by the fact that Five loves Luther and would rather die than hurt him

(though threatening a bit is possible, which I think is what happened with Vanya at the end as well - Five couldn’t bring himself to follow through on hurting her otherwise his jumping would have been so much more precise at the end, he was demonstrably very deadly )

Five is used to going at things alone, so leaving his siblings behind isn’t even him being an asshole or trying to protect them by leaving them behind... he literally just forgets that he has backup but also forgets that like... his siblings talk back to him? So he’ll just say his piece and then exit out of the conversation 

His siblings find it inconsiderate and rude but sometimes it’s literally just Five forgetting that people can have input to conversations and that they aren’t just one-sided things, and since Five is... kind of sensitive about his lack of social skills he just lets them think he’s rude rather than admit that his social skills are really just that bad

There are plenty of other things I think might result from his years of isolation. Five’s habit of talking to himself, because for a long time there was really no one else to talk to (even if he addresses those thoughts to Dolores absently, despite the fact that he’s returned her to the store). An inability to relax because there’s an inexplicable feeling of guilt that occurs whenever he tries to.

Issues sleeping because he’s used to basically total silence. Can you imagine going from no sound at all to living in a house with other people, in a city where there are cars and sirens and people walking down the street? Being generally jumpy around other people

Five has a lot of social issues that his siblings probably put down to him being rude and unsociable but are actually just a result of Five genuinely not knowing how to interact with people, even when he’s really actually trying his best

and part of that is that they’re used to Five being terrifyingly competent, they remember him being praised by their father for being adaptable and good at what he did, even when he caused trouble. They’re used to Five being above it all, and so they don’t perceive it as Five having difficulty so much as they perceive it as Five purposefully being an asshole

If Five was trying he wouldn’t fail, because they do actually perceive Five as being exceptionally capable, which means that Five’s actual struggles... kind of go unnoticed or are criticized as him not trying hard enough

and of course Five hides how he feels and lets them go on thinking that, because it’s an ingrained habit to hide weaknesses - both thanks to Reggie who pit the kids against one another and used their weaknesses against them and because of the Handler who can scent weakness in the water like a shark with blood oof

15. What it takes to make them cry

I think I have a post somewhere about how the Hargreeves are very good at digging right into each others weaknesses and twisting the knife. It happens with all of them tbh. Diego hurls Allison’s failures as a mother in his face, Allison snaps at Vanya that she’s the last person she would ask for advice, even Ben snipes at Klaus. It’s ingrained. It’s common. They’re used to hurting each other with words, used to finding each others softest parts and using those weaknesses against each other

but Five hasn’t really experienced that since he was thirteen. And the Handler, brilliant as she is, is no match for the siblings in their ability to locate and use each others weaknesses.

So I think there’s going to come a day when Five pisses one of them off, and they lash out in the way they know how. The ‘acceptable’ way, with words instead of fists. They’re going to find Five’s softest parts and dig right in

Words like ‘abandon’ and ‘run away’ and ‘should have stayed away’ and ‘fault’

And Five knows how to defend himself, physically. But he’s so very out of practice against verbal attacks, he’s out of practice when he can’t attack back physically and shut someone up. And he loves his siblings. He couldn’t even bring himself to hurt Luther when Luther was threatening the one person who kept him sane, someone that he loved. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt Vanya when she was about to end the world. 

So Five can’t attack physically, has to just stand there and listen. Has to take those words, and take them into his heart, and stand there bleeding from wounds that no one can see

and he’s Five. So none of them would expect it when their words actually hurt him, actually make him stagger back as if hit by a physical blow, none of them expect their venomous barbs to actually make their brother cry

but them not expecting it just makes it easier to hide. He can jump out of a conversation and just be considered rude and inconsiderate and he can hide away while he shakes apart at the seams and has to rebuild his walls from scratch

(what a useful power, right? what a useful escape)

i think there might eventually be frustrated tears, brought about by accusation that Five... doesn’t care about them and everything piles up and just - 

the idea that his siblings don’t know, can’t know, about everything he’s sacrificed for them. Every time he sees them dead behind his eyelids when he goes to sleep. Every second he thought about them, every moment he tried to get back to them. Five is shit at expressing how much he cares about his siblings to his siblings, but don’t actions speak louder than words? Hasn’t he shown them how much he loves them? How much it would kill him if he had to go through losing them ever again?

I imagine at some point there’s a breakdown, Five howling about how he thought about them every single day, that he worked tirelessly to get back to them, to save them. Fuck the world. He was never interested in saving the world. His entire world is his family, and he shaking and shuddering and yelling at them because they don’t understand

he probably doesn’t even realize he’s crying until someone points it out, honestly

tbh five kind of deserves his breakdown, and his siblings deserve to witness how much he actually does care about them and maybe then he’ll finally get the hug he deserves

[luxekook]

in too deep ☼ knj

☼ dedication: this fic is a bday present for the loml tay aka tay bay bay aka @interludemoonchild​!!!! luv u long time <33 (sorry this isn’t about hobi skksksks)

☼ pairing: marine biologist namjoon x assistant reader

☼ genre: idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, crack

☼ summary: you had always grown up being told tales of terrible jobs with tyrannical bosses. but now, you’re left to wonder why you hadn’t heard more tragic stories of all-too-wonderful jobs with all-too-beautiful bosses... did falling for your boss only lead to heartbreak and a two weeks’ notice? or could it yield the possibility of romance?

☼ word count: 3.1k

☼ warnings: pg15, cursing, chaotic energy, pining, miscommunication, mentions of quitting, lots of sea nerd stuff, namjoon is smart af but an idiot in love, the reader isn’t any better, crabby bois, arguments, completely cheesy fluff, short make out sesh, mention of sex

☼ banner creator: heathy bby @shadowsremedy​

☼ beta reader: the amazing and astoundingly talented phia @meowxyoong​

“Kim Namjoon!” You cry, swatting the blue-clawed crab away from your feet with a broom, “What did I tell you about bringing your goddamn crustaceans into the office?”

The man in question hustles out of his office looking disheveled, “You’ve seen Carl?” He sinks right down to his hands and knees to peer under your desk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, little buddy!”

You stare disappointedly as your boss picks up ‘Carl’ from his hiding place and cradles him to his chest. “Namjoon,” You sigh exasperatedly, folding your arms.

He looks up at you and blushes, “Sorry, Star. I just feel so bad leaving them downstairs at the lab. It’s so lonely and dark down there.” 

While your stomach flips at the mention of his nickname for you, your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Well, why don’t you just stay down there with them?”

“Because you’re up here…” He mumbles something incoherent. 

“What?” You lean forwards, your ears straining to catch the garbled syllables.

Namjoon clears his throat, looking everywhere but at you, “Because it’s nicer up here.”

“Don’t tell your investors that,” You laugh, thinking of all the fancy and shiny equipment housed in the aquatics lab a few floors below. Working for a top-tier marine biologist sure had its perks - namely the state of the art kitchen with a full espresso bar. 

“Star, I would never!” He looks affronted by the mere mention of such a thing. “Now, apologize to Carl for scaring him.” 

You scoff, but just one glance into Namjoon’s sparkling brown eyes makes you crumble instantly. “Fine,” You begrudgingly shoot the crab a look, “Sorry, Carl.”

“See, Carl?” Namjoon croons, “She’s sorry!” As he turns back to you, you can immediately tell he is about to launch into Marine Biologist Mode™. 

“Carl is a blue crab - a Callinectes sapidus, to be precise. That scientific name literally means ‘savory beautiful swimmer’.”

“Savory, huh?” You quip, relishing in the scandalized look Namjoon shoots you.

“Don’t listen to her, Carl,” He whispers, stroking a finger gently down the crab’s shell. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes… He’s named for his pretty sapphire-tinted claws, and he’s one of the most harvested species of his kind. So, don’t even think about it.”

You burst out laughing as he eyes you, “Okay, Joon, I’ll leave my pot of boiling water at home.”

Namjoon splutters out a choked laugh, looking at you like you are the most exasperating thing he’s ever come across. And, you probably are.

When you came to work for the distinguished marine biologist four months ago, you found him literally buried beneath piles of research papers, files, and National Geographic magazines. Apparently, he had tripped into his filing cabinet and everything had fallen off of the shelves onto him. The man had been a right mess. It was no wonder he had put an ad out in search of an assistant.

In your new role, you slowly but surely introduced some structure and organization into Namjoon’s life as best you could. The first thing you did was update his office. The man still had an honest to god lava lamp on his desk. You were still baffled at how he had managed not to break the fixture before your arrival.

Swiftly following the disposal of the cursed lava lamp, you ordered new file cabinets - and had them nailed to the wall. Virtually, you did even more. You restructured his online platforms and updated his schedule to include more than just scattered notes like “Meeting at 10AM, i think? Or was it 10PM?”

To his credit, Namjoon adhered to most of your suggestions and changes, but apparently he still refused to grasp the ‘no creatures in the office’ rule.

Overall, Namjoon was a great boss - kind, understanding, sweet, and a tad eccentric. His love for all things sea-related shone through the gentle way he handled his specimens, the passionate tone of voice he used while speaking on any related topic, and the stars in his eyes at the mere mention of discovering a new species.

It had been all too easy to become infatuated with him. Especially when he called you “Star” and left you to interpret the meaning on your own. 

You remember the exact moment that you fell in love with him so vividly. It had been last month, just three months into working for him. Namjoon had been going off about fucking sand of all things.

“…Sand speaks of history, of science, of travels. Each grain of sand holds thousands upon thousands of years of movement, of erosion. For example, the beach outside of this building is tan because of the iron oxide tinting the quartz and the feldspar to a light brown color. But, there are other beaches that are black, white and even pink in color! It’s fascinating! And to quote the goddess of marine biology Rachel Carson: "In every curving beach, in every grain of sand, there is a story of the Earth…”

Yeah, you are head over heels for your boss. And that’s why you needed to quit.

The end of the workday arrives too quickly - a common theme it seems when you love what you do and who you work for. Namjoon walks beside you down to the parking lot. You sneak a glance at his face and note that he seems deep in thought.

Your mind slips to the image of you and Namjoon going home together to a shared house overrun with fish tanks and models of sharks. It’s all too easy to picture, and all too painful to acknowledge the impossibility.

“Star,” Namjoon’s voice jolts you from your fantasy. You blink up at him, realizing you’re both stopped beside your adjacent cars. Namjoon smiles at you, “I’ll see you tomorrow? It’ll be Friday, finally...” 

It seems like he wants to say more but stops himself for some reason. You pause, waiting for him to continue, but he just blushes and brings a hand to the back of his neck bashfully.

“Yeah, Friday,” Your tone is less enthusiastic. You planned to hand in your two weeks’ notice tomorrow. It’s a complete strategy on your part so that you can have the whole weekend to cry and shove at least one gallon of ice cream down your throat.

You wave goodbye to each other and enter your respective cars. You watch Namjoon pull out of the parking lot before you and pause to rest your forehead on your steering wheel. You were so screwed.

Twenty-four exhausting hours later, you find yourself with your fist poised over Namjoon’s wooden office door. Are you actually doing this? Are you really going to quit the only job you’d ever loved? 

Yes, you are. You love Namjoon too much to stay here surrounded by his charisma and his beauty. You love him too much to try to complicate his workspace, his sacred ground. You love him too much to ask him to blur the lines of colleague and lover.

You need to leave - for his sake and for yours. It isn’t like he still needs you. He has been following your routine with vigor and always keeps his office organized now. Your tasks have been dwindling for weeks. 

It’s time to move on. God, even the tension today had been off the charts with you and Namjoon skirting around each other like you were both walking on eggshells. Clearly, he is also feeling like you are in the way.

With that in mind, you straighten your shoulders and finally knock on the door.

Your ears strain for any sign of an answer. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to sustain the meager amount of courage you had mustered up inside you. Twisting open the handle, you push the door open and are immediately met with an empty office. Damn, he must be downstairs.

You chuckle at the sheer idiocy of your panicked state over knocking on an empty office door.

This is perfect anyways. You can hand Namjoon your two weeks’ and then evacuate the building in one sweep. Shutting down your computer and grabbing your things, you trudge out of the room and towards the stairs.

The journey downwards seems akin to walking the plank as you take each step slowly, dreading the inevitable. 

Ciara has it all wrong: you do not love it when you One, Two Step. 

The entrance to the lab looms overhead. The steel double doors look more like the gateway to hell rather than a nice entrance to a marine facility. You don’t break your stride as you march through the doors. If you had, you might not have kept going.

The familiar light humming of the tank filters meets your ears as you peer around the rows of shelves containing colorful fish and scuttling critters.

“Joon?” You call, the nickname slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Back here, Star!” His answer sounds from the very back of the lab. Of course, that’s where the crabs are housed.

You make your way past the tanks of clownfish and the pools of stingrays to where Namjoon sits hunched over the shallow tank containing four green-tinted crabs. 

“That’s it, Nala.” Namjoon croons as the smallest of the four crabs swims around the tank, “You show your brothers how fast you are.”

“Talking to your subjects again, boss?” You can’t help but tease the man you've grown to love as he fawns over his work.

Namjoon blushes slightly and nods, pushing his glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose, “Studies have shown that it helps them develop.”

“I thought that was humans?” You say, shifting your weight back and forth. The letter in your hand seems to burn more each second you hold onto it. You couldn't take it anymore.

As Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, you thrust the letter into his chest and say, “Never mind. This is for you. Please read it later.”

With that, you fast-walk your way back to the entrance of the lab. The sound of the envelope tearing open only forces you faster. Fuck, it had been idiotic of you to assume that he would actually listen to you and open it later. Namjoon is as impatient as they come. Of course he wouldn't wait.

“Star!” His strangled call startles you, “What is this?”

“We can talk about it on Monday!” You reply, somehow already close to tears. Why is this godforsaken lab so big? You pace down the aisles of tanks and breathe a sigh of relief as the exit comes into view. 

Then, Namjoon comes barreling around the corner, cutting off your escape. The man looks baffled as he clutches your written resignation in his hands. His chest heaves as he holds the torn pages out towards you, “What. Is. This. Star?”

You bristle. I guess we’re doing this now, you thought. Stiffening your shoulders, you muster all the false bravado you can manage, “It’s my two weeks’ notice, Namjoon. I’m sure a smart guy like you can read.”

“Okay, allow me to rephrase,” Namjoon stalks towards you, tossing the crumpled letter over his shoulder. “Why did you give me this?”

“The letter explains everything,” Your eyes dart around, both in search of a viable escape and in avoidance of his intensity.

“Sure it does,” He scoffs, his eyes blazing with disbelief. “I want to hear it from you.”

Your back hits the cool glass of the tank behind you. You’re trapped between the contrasting temperatures of the water and Namjoon’s body.

“Joon,” Your voice shakes, “You don’t need me anymore. You’ve done everything I've asked of you and then some. You’re organized. You’re on time. You’re put together. I barely have enough tasks now to fill a day, let alone a week. It’s time to move on.”

“Time to move on?” Namjoon echoes before barking out a humorless laugh, “I don’t need you anymore? That’s really what you think, Star?”

“Don’t call me that.” The nickname snufs out any trace of fight left inside you, and you plead, “Just let me go, Joon.”

“Never,” He growls.

“I don’t understand what you’re not getting,” You sigh, exasperated and drained, “You’ve surpassed my expectations and erased the need for my position. I think the saying ‘the student has become the master’ applies here.”

Namjoon gapes at you before he snaps, “You’re the one who’s not getting it! Have you ever considered that the student might just be in love with the teacher?”

Joon rakes a hand through his hair as you become the one to gape open mouthed at the frustrated man.

He continues, “I wake up earlier every damn day because I can’t wait to see you at work. I organize all of my things because I just want to see you smile at me when you notice. I spend an hour each night picking out what to wear the next day because I want to impress you… Don’t you see? Everything I do is for you, is because of you. I want to be the best version of myself for you.”

Your mind struggles to compute the seemingly impossible notion that the object of your affections returns your love. “Did you,” You gasp out, “Just say that you loved me?”

“Yes, you complete jellyfish! I love you. I am in love with you! And it’s not like it’s not obvious! I call you ‘Star’ because you are my starfish, my sea star. You are the one who keeps the balance to my ecosystem of chaos. You are the key species that keeps everything afloat.”

“And you thought that was obvious?” You yell back at him, “How on earth would I immediately have known the intense analysis behind your nickname for me, Namjoon the science buffoon?” You huff, scrambling to process the amount of information that had just been thrown at you. 

He needed you?

He loved you back? 

He nicknamed you after a fucking marine invertebrate?!

Namjoon blinks in surprise, “Did you just insult me with a Bill Nye pun?” You don’t deign to give him a response. Namjoon chuckles before grinning sheepishly, “Okay, fine. You make a good point.”

“I know I do,” You pout. “You can’t just spring this on me, Joon. Why haven't you told me this before?”

“Because I was nervous that you would leave me, that you wouldn't return my feelings. Obviously, the first point is moot. What about the second?”

“You’re asking if I love you back?” Your body sags against the tank behind you, “How could I not, you crab-loving, walking mess of a—”

Namjoon captures your mouth with his, kissing you with fervor. His hands wind their way up to cradle your face between them like you are the most precious thing to him. 

Pulling back slightly, Namjoon rasps out, “So, you’ll stay?” 

“Hm, I don’t know,” You crack a wry smile, “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, let me show you,” Namjoon replies before whipping his shirt off. You gape open mouthed at the expanse of beautiful tan skin in front of you. 

Was that a hint of a tattoo swirling over his left shoulder?

He reaches down to tug at the hem of your dress, insinuating he wants it off. A nice concept in theory; however, with one look around at your surroundings, you slap his hand away. “Namjoon! Not in front of the fish!”

“But, Star, these aren’t fish! These are squid, and they are classed as cephalopods—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “Allow me to clarify: I will only fuck in a creature-free zone.”

Namjoon murmurs something beneath your palm. You give him a warning look before removing your hand. He immediately repeats himself, “My office?”

Your eyes narrow, “I know for a fact you have at least three crabs in there.”

Namjoon pauses, looking suspiciously shifty, “There are only seven…” 

You wait for it.

“...teen.” He finishes.

“Kim Namjoon!”

Two Years Later

The short walk down the aisle ends too quickly as you find yourself standing in front of a teary-eyed Namjoon. Five of his friends stand behind him in a row, while the sixth stands proudly as the officiant.

They really are out here looking like a whole boy band, you muse. But, you only have eyes for their leader. 

Namjoon stands before you, all tall and handsome in his tux; and as Officiant Jin™ begins the ceremony, you can't help but wonder how you got so lucky.

Finally, the ring exchange is introduced dramatically by Seokjin who spouts something about circles and never ending love. “Let us now have the rings brought forward and presented by the ring-bearer!” He booms, raising his arms up like he is summoning a great force.

Ring-bearer? You rake your mind for a prior mention of a ring-bearer… You thought Yoongi as the best man would have the rings.

Suddenly, Namjoon produces a silver whistle from his pocket and blows it once. You stare at your soon-to-be husband like he has sprouted another head.

And then you hear it: the sound of legs and claws scuttling across the floor towards the altar. 

“Tell me that is not what I think it is,” You whisper-yell over to Namjoon, who looks way too pleased for your liking.

Your fears and exasperations come true as Namjoon swoops down to pick up Carl who has two shiny rings tied to his shell with a ribbon.

“Oh, Kim Namjoon,” You sigh as you watch him remove the rings from Carl and hand the crab off to a disgruntled Taehyung, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to marry me,” Namjoon grins.

And marry him you did.

a/n: jellyfish have no brains, lolz. idk why making joon call the reader a jellyfish made me crack tf up but IT DID.

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[defenderrosetyler]

Chapter One

A/N: No real triggers this time!!  WC: 1.9k Chapter 1:

“So every person in this book is a fairy tale character?” Emma Swan says to her ten-year-old son. 

The boy had introduced himself as Henry, had brought his mother to Storybrooke. Of course, Emma had given Henry up for adoption when she gave birth to him.  But to have her son seek her out made Emma uncomfortable. He had come to her claiming to be the savior of the storybook world. Henry spun a tale about a curse and how all of the characters of the Enchanted Forest were stuck in a town called Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry had with him a brown leather storybook that was thick but didn’t appear to be heavy. Henry seemed to carry around with no problem. One thing Emma found off when they arrived into town was the clock tower. As she observed it, she couldn’t help take note of how it never seemed to move. She led Henry back to his mother’s house. Henry’s adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was the mayor of the town. Henry claimed she was the Evil Queen from the story Snow White. Emma found this silly. Then again, Emma wasn’t one for fairytales anyway. Fairytales are for kids. 

Inside Granny’s Diner, Sam Winchester sat inside waiting for his brother Dean. Granny’s was usually closed at night since Granny went to work at her bed and breakfast in the mornings, but Ruby was always there at night to serve the night owls who couldn’t sleep. 

Ruby wasn’t the only one working the night shift. She worked with Y/N Y/L/N. Hardly anyone saw  Y/N working in the morning. This usually led to rumors that Y/N was hiding something.  The story was Y/N stayed locked in Rowena’s shop.

Rowena MacLeod was a private woman. However, she was a businesswoman, a loan shark, if you will. Rowena was very good at getting what she wanted through these tactics. She would let her client borrow money with the promise of paying it back fairly and on time. However, many clients don’t read the fine print in her contract.  Resulting in them having to pay double or triple what they borrowed. Rowena had helped Sam and Dean’s parents with a large sum of money to keep their business, Winchester Mechanics, afloat. Leaving their two sons, Sam and Dean, to foot the bill. Dean paid her as much as he could, but with not many people coming or going from Storybrooke, business was slow. 

This left Sam to find a way to help Dean find a way to help pay Rowena back too. But he wasn’t having great success either. Sam had started working in Mr. Gold’s Pawn shop until he found himself interested in Law. Under Mr. Gold’s tutelage, Sam had become well versed in the laws created by the town council. This led him to also find work in the Sheriff's office as a prosecutor. Often being a rival for his own boss at the Pawn Shop. It only made Mr. Gold admire Sam more.  

“Ruby, can you please help them?” Y/N begged, trying to hold back an eye-roll at the two men that walked in together, sitting across from one another. Having a conversation amongst themselves and trying to not get in an argument, again, over the amount of money they owed to Rowena. Their next payment was due within the week, and they didn’t have the funds. 

“Sorry, Duckling, it's your turn. I helped them the other day.” She says, giving her a sentimental look. 

Ruby had been watching Y/N and Sam’s exchanges cringing internally whenever they walked in the door, knowing Y/N would try and pass her along to either herself or Granny. Ruby heard rumors about why Y/N and Sam had disagreements, but their arguments were getting harsher with each passing day.

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, grabbing her order pad, heading over to greet Sam and Dean. 

“Evening, Y/N,” Dean says pleasantly. 

Sam muttered under his breath a greeting, and it sounded like he muttered a nickname only her friends gave her, earning a glare from Y/N in Sam’s direction. 

“What is it now, brains?” Y/N says. “Too buried in your debt to Rowena to speak louder and call me a name in front of my face?”

Dean sighed. Here they go again. “Just our usual if you would please,” he says, trying to cut the tension between the two. 

Y/N nods glaring at Sam before she heads back to the kitchen. 

“You didn’t need to butt in like that,” Sam scoffed. “I had it completely under control.”

“Oh sure, that’s why you and Y/N seem to fight or have some sort of disagreement every time we come in here?” Dean huffed,  “Who knows whatever the hell happens when you bump into her while she’s alone at Rowena’s,” Dean sassed,  “Oh wait, you’re too busy working at Gold’s shop, fighting for a chance to work a case in his place, or at the jail with Graham,” the elder brother snapped calmly. 

“Says the man who works in a shop with no cars to work on,” Sam snapped back, “How’s Amaya? Did you ever fulfill your promise to help her out?

“You keep that bitch out of this,” Dean growled. “I’ll figure something out. For now, I’m gonna see if I can get a second job somewhere.” 

“What do you mean? What other job could you get here? Think Granny can hire you as a short-order cook? At least she gets business!”  

“It’s something to get the debt paid back to Rowena, Sam,” Dean muttered as Y/N brought out their meals. Both were polite, and their bickering died down, and they went back to talking about their days. As uneventful as they were, they had a lot to talk about. 

Y/N sighed as she went back behind the counter, “Ruby, I’m gonna head to bed. Dawn wake-up call comes early.” She says with an eye roll. 

“Goodnight, Duckling,” Ruby says, smiling kindly to her, “I’ll clean up.”

===========

Enchanted Forest

“Dean, is target practice really necessary?” Sam says, looking at him. “I need to be looking for Odette, not shooting powdered arrows over at the servants’ asses.” 

“And what are you gonna do when you can’t hit your mark?” Dean questioned, “What of Odette needs saving from some Ogres, and you miss?” 

“Is that before or after the fact that you're catching fireflies at all hours of the night?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Are they for you or to feed the frog that follows you around and hides on your dresser?”  he snaps, glaring at the older brother.

“I do not go out at night to catch fireflies for Amaya,” Dean scoffs, “besides, she goes out and catches her own meals.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabbed his red powdered covered arrows, game face on. Assuming the probability that Dean would let him win, again. Sam took an arrow from his quiver, sliding it into place. Pulling back the string once he nocked it, aiming it at his first mark, the butler, Crowley. Whom the brothers affectionately dressed up as a brown moose. The arrow left the nocking point, hitting its destined target in the center of his rounded ass. 

“Hey!” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. He brushed off the powder as he glared at both of the brothers. 

Dean was finding this amusing. The exercise was primarily for Sam. Why couldn’t he have fun too?

Just as Dean was about to take his shot, Castiel, the head advisor to his father, walked out onto the grounds. He intended to stop the game before it fully began. “Your Highness?”

Startled by the sudden interruption, Dean whipped around,  the arrow released from where it was nocked, hitting Castiel square into his chest. Before he could even react, a second followed by a third engulfed Cas in a powder of blue.

“If you children are quite finished,” he huffed, dusting the powder off himself, “my liege, you have a visitor. Something about a poisonous toad needing collecting?”

Dean fired one more arrow before stalking towards Castiel, “it better not be a waste of my time. My brother and I are training.” 

“Training for a lost cause if you ask me, Sir,” Crowley says, observing the body language of his employer. “For all, we know the Princess is dead as well, just like her father. God rest his soul.” He adds, making the sign of the cross. 

Sam’s head turned quickly at the Butler’s words echoed in his ear. Eyes flashed in anger, rushing over towards the pair. “Take it back! You don’t get to talk about Odette like that!”

“Forgive me, Samuel. However, I truly believe this to be a fool's errand,” Crowley says, standing closer to the trio gathered in the middle of the courtyard.

“I will find her, Crowley,” the younger prince declared, “I have to find her.”

Shaking his head, Dean followed Castiel inside to handle the visitor.

Needing an actual outlet for his anger, Sam walked with a fast pace over to the stables. The staff tended to the horses, but Sam usually liked taking care of his mare. It gave him a sense of responsibility. 

Sam’s mare, Onyx, was a beautiful black Friesian. Her height was just above 18 hands, given his six foot four stature, she was just as tall as he was. Sam was okay with that though. Grabbing a body brush, Sam slowly brushed out her black coat. It had become dirty from the loose dirt flying around.

Meanwhile, as the sun set on the edge of the trees in the forest, a beautiful white swan flew across the canopy. Odette had grown accustomed to the dawn and the dusk. Knowing she had to be on the lake’s surface as the moon touched it before she would become a woman again. 

As per her usual routine, Odette flew over Winchester Castle. Wondering if Sam would be looking for her. Who was she kidding? Sam only wanted to marry her for her beauty. Prince Samuel Winchester didn’t care about her.

Dusk approached, the swan moving to make her graceful descent down into the crystal colored water. “Was wondering if you were gonna be on time tonight dearie.” Rowena says, hands placed on her hips. Odette gave Rowena as much of a glare as a swan possibly could. The princess was always on time and never late. The other party that was never late was Rowena’s incompetant son Crowley. 

“Evening Mother, Odette,” he greets, giving his mother a nod of acknowledgement. Crowley’s appearances had begun to be a routine over the past week. Rowena’s son came every evening, giving Rowena the opportunity to ask her the same proposition in order to remove the curse. Marrying her son. 

Much to the annoyance of Rowena, Odette answered her the same as she had every single time she’d asked. One single word was her reply, but not the one the sorceress was looking for. 

“No.”

“Oh for the love of Dagda” She scoffed, rolling her eyes skyward. Eyes focused back on the maiden that stood before her. Hair glowing in the shimmering moonlight. “Need I remind you, I placed this curse on you, and I can just as easily reverse it. All you need to do, is agree to marry my dear Fergus. Once you're wed, I can give you all the riches a Princess could ask for.” 

“Far better than the Winchester’s that's for sure.” Crowley adds as a comment. 

“I’d rather be a swan over marrying your childish, pathetic son.” Odette snapped. 

“That can be arranged.” Rowena snapped, allowing the princess to mull over her choices.

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 7

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

word count: 2772

___________________________________________________________

Dove sat awake and stared out the window of the RV. Her body was tired and her legs ached from the trek back from Atlanta, but she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing her friends, even those who were alive, die right in front of her. Sophia was asleep, her legs thrown across Dove’s lap as she rested her head on her mother. Carol had cried herself to sleep.

Then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, the sun was rising over the mountains. Her hazel eyes scanned her surroundings as she straightened herself into a sitting position from where she had apparently fallen asleep. Lori smiled gently at her as she patted her on the shoulder again. It was her that had woken her up. “How long was I asleep for,” Dove mumbled as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Not long. Maybe an hour or so,” Lori sighed as she sat down next to her. “How’re they doin?”

Dove turned her head to look at the older woman as she scrutinized her for a moment before she responded. “Fine, I think. At least someone’s getting some shut eye. How’s Carl?” Dove ran a hand through her hair as she fought back a yawn.

 “He’s still sleepin. Glenn was lookin for you, but he didn’t want to wake you,” Lori added.

Dove nodded as she moved Sophia’s legs off her lap slowly. Lori took a step back and held out a hand to the younger woman. With a mumbled ‘thanks’, Dove allowed herself to be helped into a standing position. As she descended the steps, she spotted Glenn. He was close to the woods with Daryl of all people. Close to where Carol’s tent was and that made Dove’s stomach turn. Lori rubbed her shoulder before she turned on her heel and walked off to check on Carl.

It felt like the 20 or so steps it took to get to Glenn took hours. Her hands on her hips, Dove looked at both the men and nodded. “So, what’s up? Couldn’t come wake me up yourself?” She attempted to joke with Glenn.

His face was paler than she thought she’d seen him before. “No…. I mean. I didn’t want to wake you up for this.”

The confusion must have been clear on Dove’s face as Daryl spoke up suddenly. “We gotta let your sister know what happened and pizza boy here thought it would be best to let you know first”

Dove didn’t know how to feel. That could only mean one thing, right? She pushed past both of them and pulled open the flap of the tent. A sense of regret immediately washed over her as she took in the sight before her. She never thought she would feel any sense of pity for Ed Peletier, but here she stood. He still deserved everything he got and when Dove finally tore her eyes away, she had no tears in her eyes. Instead she turned to Glenn and whispered in his ear. “Do me a favor? Wake Carol up and bring her out here? Leave Sophia to sleep, she doesn’t need to know yet.

Glenn eyed her warily for a moment before setting off to his task. She watched as he disappeared into the RV. Dove finally spoke up again, “You want help movin him? You’re gonna put all the ones out that got bit, right?” She peeled her eyes away from the sight of her sister crying and being comforted by Jacqui to look at Daryl.

Shock was evident on his face, but only for a moment as he frowned once again. “Sure you can handle it?”

Dove narrowed her eyes at him, “I don’t see anyone else offering to help you with this one, Dixon. Besides, I probably should. You get his arms, I’ll get his legs,” and before there was a response, Dove had ducked her head into the tent and began to get a grip on her brother-in-law’s legs. Her stomach turned as another thought rushed through her head. She only wished she was the one who got to put an end to all the suffering he’d put her family through.

~

A few hours later, the sun was up. Most of them sat around the fire as Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn went to work putting the walkers-to-be down before they could turn. Rick broke the silence. “She been like that all night?”

Lori nodded as Dove looked up from her spot next to Carol. “She won’t even talk to us. She hasn’t moved at all.”

Shane sighed, “We can’t just leave Amy like that. We have to deal with it…like with all the others.”

“I’ll tell her how it is,” Rick nodded solemnly.

Dove shook her head as she rubbed Carol’s back. “I doubt hearing it from one more person will make a difference.” She was proven right almost instantly as she turned to see Andrea pull a gun on Rick. Jesus, it was turning into Lord of the Flies quick as anything. Then Rick did the smartest thing any of them had done in days, he backed up slowly and walked away.

Daryl had seen it too, apparently, and he wasn’t too happy about it.

“You’re seriously gonna let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl’s a fucking time bomb,” he said in what had to be an attempt to reason with them all.

Dove stood; arms crossed in front of her chest. “First of all, it’s Amy. Not dead girl. Second of all, when Rick went over to talk to her? He got a gun pulled on him so unless you have any bright ideas of your own, I think we’re shit out of luck,” she tried to keep her voice down as her anger rose slightly. The last thing they needed was for Andrea to hear their whole conversation.

Rick raised an eyebrow,” So any suggestions?”

Daryl took a step closer to Rick and Dove watched Shane tense up. “Take the shot! Clean, in the brain from here! Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance.” She hated to say anything, but Daryl was kind of making sense. It hurt to even think it. Dove liked Amy. She was a sweet girl, always kind to everyone in camp even when they weren’t kind to her. But if she came back, that wouldn’t be Amy.

“For God’s sakes, let her be,” Lori shook her head. The others seemed to agree and Daryl just scoffed as he turned to go back to his work. Dove stared after him, a frown on her face.

“You got something to say, bird,” Shane spoke up suddenly. His voice cut through Dove like a knife. There was something off about him since Rick got back, almost like he was trying even harder to prove himself.

“What if Daryl’s right,” Dove said and almost instantly regretted it.

Dale frowned in concern, “Did you get any sleep last night? I mean you…”

Dove held a hand up and tried to ignore the worried look on Carol’s face. “No, Dale! I’m feeling just fine, thank you! But all I’m saying is that Amy go bit, right? So, Amy will turn if we let her sit there too long. So what? We let her lay out in the sun, get all toasty and warm for when she turns and then what? Andrea chokes up when she turns, can’t shoot her, then she gets bit.”

Lori ran a hand down her face and shook her head, “We aren’t shooting Amy in the head from this far away. I understand you; I really do! But we need to think about Andrea too.”

A shout from Glenn drew Dove’s attention. She grabbed Carol’s shoulder as Daryl started to yell again. Something about them leaving Merle for dead. “You had this coming!”

Dove’s hand shook with anger and Carol gave her hand a comforting squeeze before Dove caught sight of Jim. He didn’t look too well, and she couldn’t help but feel some concern for the man. Another pat on Carol’s shoulder and Dove mumbled, “I’ll be back,” then she was off. She approached slowly but was able to hear enough.

Jim was bleeding. Dove froze in place, her feet felt like they were cemented to the floor when Jacqui shouted out, “A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!”

Everyone was shouting. Dove’s head was spinning, but she saw Daryl start to circle like a shark with the damn pickaxe. Then Jim was caught in a hold by T-Dog and Dove couldn’t keep the tears from springing up in her eyes as she saw the big bite mark on Jim’s abdomen.

Dove shook her head as she raised a hand to cover her mouth in shock. Shane walked forward and grabbed Jim’s arm as the man continued to mutter how he was fine. He was okay, there was nothing wrong with him. “Hey, listen. Jim, buddy, just sit right there by the RV. Right there in the shade now, alright? We’re gonna figure this out.” Dove walked forward and placed a hand on Jim’s other arm and nodded at Shane.

“C’mon. I’ll help you sit down. You’re gonna be just fine,” her hazel eyes stayed fixed on her feet as she carefully guided the mechanic to the shade beside the RV. “Do you need anything? Something to eat? A bottle of water,” Dove spoke gently as she helped Jim sit down.

“I’m okay, Sawyer. I’m okay,” was all Jim said. It was like he was trying to convince himself or will it into existence by saying it so many times. If magic were real, maybe he would really be okay. The dead were up and walking now so who’s to say he wouldn’t be able to fix himself.

Dove nodded, a small smile on her face as she rose to her feet to rejoin the others. “Stay cool, Jimbo. I’ll be right back.”

She caught what Dale said as she approached, “Maybe Daryl’s right.”

“You sure you got enough sleep last night, Dale?” Dove couldn’t resist saying the same thing Dale had said to her earlier as she came to a stop between Carol and Daryl.

“Jim’s not some monster or a rabid dog. He’s sick. A sick man,” Rick shook his head. He wasn’t on board with this anymore. “We start down that road, where do we draw the line?”

Dove sighed as she pulled a hair tie from her pocket. As she grabbed her dark hair in her hand and began to weave it into a braid, she nodded. “Right, he only turns into a rabid dog after he bites the dust. He hasn’t done that yet. The real question is, are we gonna give him a chance to turn into a rabid dog? We’ve all seen Old Yeller.”

“Exactly,” Daryl spoke up again, “Line’s pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers or those to be.”

One thing that Dove was quickly figuring out about Rick Grimes was that he was a desperate man. Kind, sure, but desperate to still do the right thing. “What if we can get him help?” Dove exchanged a worried look with Carol before she placed a comforting arm around her sister’s shoulders. “I heard the CDC was working on a cure.”

“We all heard that before the world went to hell,” Shane retorted.

“What if the CDC’s still up and running,” Rick attempted to reason with them.

“Even if the CDC is still up and running, and that’s a strong if! You really think we got enough time to get Jim there and get him help before he starts to take advantage of the buffet of people out here,” Dove couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Now listen!” Rick raised his voice slightly, “If there’s any government left, any structure at all, they’d protect the CDC at all costs. Right? It’s our best shot. Shelter, protection…”

Shane cut Rick off before he could finish. Even a blind man could see that there was a battle going on deep inside Daryl’s head at that point from the way his face was twitching. Dove’s eyes flickered from the weapon in his hand to the two men arguing. At the mention of Fort Benning, Dove heard Carol let out a quiet, yet annoyed sigh.

“That’s 100 miles in the other direction,” Lori pointed out.

“That is correct, but it’s away from the hot zone,” Shane continued.

“Yeah and you’ve been talking about going to Fort Benning since the first week we got here,” Dove snapped, “If you thought Fort Benning was so good, why didn’t we just head there from the jump once we had a big enough group? The military didn’t seem to be handling it very well at all from how Atlanta looks, anyway.” Dove watched as Shane clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair. Rick cut him off before he had a chance to retaliate.

“She’s right. The military was on the front line and they got over run! We go 100 miles for what? The CDC is closer, at least if there’s nothing there maybe it won’t be so bad and we can circle back and head towards Fort Benning, It’s Jim’s only chance,” Rick pleaded.

“You go get some aspirin and do what y’all wanna do,” Daryl started as he began to move towards Jim. Dove’s grip on Carol’s shoulder tightened. “Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!” Carol covered her mouth with both hands as Daryl swung the pickaxe up and Rick pointed his gun at the back of Daryl’s head.

“Oh my god, he’s gonna kill him,” Carol whispered as Dove clung to her arm.

Dove’s hands still shook as she watched. “No, I think we’re good.” She flinched as Daryl slammed the pickaxe into the dirt. “No one else needs to die today,” she said in a quiet voice as the two of them began to follow after Rick.

~

Dove approached Daryl slowly. The smell of the bodies was awful from being out in the heat all day, but part of her had to go see what was happening. Maybe things would never be normal again, but the part of her that was the caretaker seemed like it could never shut up. “That was a stupid thing you did back there. Tryin to kill Jim right in front of everyone like that.” Dove raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Daryl only grunted in response before he looked up from the task at hand.

His blue eyes seemed to stare right through her, “You come out here to preach to me, bird? Sounded like you were on my side about havin to put people down before it comes time to actually take action.” He growled before he stepped to the side and swung the pickaxe down into the head of the next person in line. “Didn’t seem too upset bout your family dyin’ neither.”

“Ed ain’t my family, first of all. Only family by circumstance but we never got along. Second of all, I got no tears to cry for wife beaters,” Dove scowled as she glanced down and kicked at Ed’s hand. She didn’t see that Daryl had opened his mouth to respond before he stopped.

Carol approached, quiet as a mouse. Dove drew in a deep breath, her hazel eyes locked on her sister as she waited for her to speak. “I’ll do it. He’s my husband.” Dove’s eyes went wide as she watched her sister try to stifle tears. Daryl looked hesitant; his gaze went to Dove before she simply shrugged her shoulders. The brunette placed a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder as she watched her take the pickaxe from Daryl.

“Hey…You’ll be okay. I’m right here if you change your mind,” Dove reassured her with a tiny smile before she stepped back, closer to Daryl than she meant to.

She wasn’t sure if Carol’s sobs were for the fact that Ed was dead or for the fact that she was finally getting an emotional release after years of abuse. As Carol finally let the pickaxe come to rest on the ground, Dove walked up behind her sister and wrapped her arms around her. Carol sniffed and raised a hand to wipe her face as the pickaxe was taken from her by Daryl. “You’re alright,” Dove said in an attempt to comfort her sister. “You, me, and Sophia? We’re gonna be just fine now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

____

@crossbowking​

[lovewriting-5]

Rules:

*gif credit goes to @creating-tabs*

5. Sanctuary

7. Bending Laws

6. The Gingerbread House:

It was a week later at the Reynolds’ house. I woke up to the sun filtering in from the windows. I faintly heard footsteps moving around upstairs. I sat up and stretched. I stood up and folded the blankets. Claire came downstairs and made her way to the kitchen. I said “Morning, Claire.” She said “Morning, (Y/N).” She looked dressed and ready for the day. I grabbed my change of clothes laying at the end of the couch and head into the bathroom. I come back out ready for the day. I walked back to the couch and put the blankets away.

A few minutes later, Stephen came down the stairs ready for the day as well. He said “Morning, (Y/N).” I said “Morning, Stephen.” Claire had started a pot of coffee. They both grabbed themselves a cup and sat at the kitchen island. I got myself a glass of water.

The guest bedroom door opened and then closed a second later. We heard tiny footsteps rushing down the stairs. Stephen says “Daniel, must be awake.” Sure enough there he was. Daniel says “Morning.” Claire says “Morning, sweetie.” I say “Morning, Daniel.” Stephen says “Morning.” Excitedly, he asks “Grandpa, can we play with the train set upstairs again?” Stephen says “Of course.”

Ten minutes later, the both of them were off upstairs. A few minutes later, the train has left the station. Claire must have noticed the shark tooth necklace around my neck earlier but she didn’t know when the best time was to ask about it. We were sitting at the kitchen island having a conversation, she asks “I noticed the shark tooth necklace around your neck. Where’d you get it?”

I didn’t know how to answer. Sean and I have talked about how much we want to reveal to them. I tell her “Sean...gave it to me.” She says “That’s nice.” She didn’t press on more. A couple minutes later, she says “Guess I better get breakfast started.” I ask “Would you like some help?” She said “That would be lovely, thanks.” She decided to make scrambled eggs and waffles. I got the ingredients out for her as she instructed me on what to add when.

From above we hear Daniel, “Choo choo!” Stephen says “Careful chief! You’re going too fast!” He says “We have to! We’re late on schedule!” Sean must have just woken up because we hear the guest room door opening a second time. I hear Daniel say “Sean! Finally!” Claire shouts up to him, “Sean, are you awake? Breakfast’s almost done, so come down when you’re ready, okay?” He shouts back, “Okay!”

The sound of the train set was still going. Claire sat back down at the island. Breakfast was just finishing up when footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs. I turn and see him enter the kitchen. Claire says “Oh my, look who’s awake! Good morning, sleepyhead...” I say “Morning.” He sleepily, says “Morning. It’s that bed...feels like a cloud.” She tells him “I know!”

Sean sits down next to me at the island. Plates and silverware were sitting in the middle. I pass one to him and he sets it down next to him. He sets one in front of him. I set one in front of me. Claire calls upstairs, “Daniel, breakfast time! Your brother and (Y/N) are ready!” Daniel yells down, “Grandpa is showing me a boxcar!” She yells “Stephen, your grandson needs to eat now! You can show him the boxcar later!” She turns back to us and says “I love how they’re getting along...” I nod in agreement.

Sean asks “What’s on the menu this morning?” Claire says “Well, someone told me the buttermilk waffles are back.” He says “Mmmm-hmmm! Awesome!” I say “They smell delicious!”

Daniel comes into the kitchen and takes a seat next to Sean. Claire asks “Are you boys done playing?” He tells her “We had an express delivery with the passengers, but...the engine broke down!” Stephen comes in with the engine in hand, “Yep. Has to go straight to the workshop!” She reminds him “Good...No trains in the kitchen remember?” He says “Gotcha, chief.” Daniel says “Choo choo!”

Claire went to open a drawer when the handle came off. She says “Oh, sugar! He can fix trains but...not my kitchen...” She picks up the frying pan and walks back over to us. We hold our plates up as she scrapes scrambled eggs and waffles onto them. Sean pours himself and Daniel some orange juice. I stand up and get more water. I sit back down and begin eating.

In what seemed like a long time, these tasted like the best scrambled eggs and waffles I’ve ever tasted. Claire asks “Did I make enough? Everything’s okay?” I tell her “It tastes delicious!” Sean says “It’s great as usual!” Daniel says “You’re the best cook ever!”

Claire says “Looks like you’re getting cozy with this new country life, after all!” I say “Yeah...It’s nice to be far away from everything...feels like we’re the only ones out here...” She says “Well, that’s exactly why we love it. It feels safe, unlike the big city...” Sean says “I get it.” Daniel says “I like it. It’s cool here!” She says “Well, bless your soul. You’d get along good with our neighbors. We try to lend a hand...like to Charles next door...He lost his wife and...things have been hard on him and his son...He would just get lost in Seattle. But we’re all taking care of him here...”

Daniel says “How old is his son?” Claire tells him “I think he’s your age!” He says “Ooh, cool!” After we finish eating, he quickly glances at Claire and then lifts his hand a few inches off the counter. The plates and utensils start stacking together into the middle. Sean and I don’t say anything and he gently sets them down.

Claire walks back over to the island to see how we’re doing. While laughing, she says “And I thought Stephen was a fast eater!” She takes the plates and utensils. Daniel begins “Hey, grandma? I wanted to ask you something...about that locked room upstairs...”

Sean and I look at him. Claire says “I told you there is nothing to see in it, Daniel...” He asks “Why were you in it this morning, then?” She continues “Because there’s a lot of old junk in there, and...Besides, it’s not safe for you to explore, okay?” He says “But we’ll be fine —“ Claire turns away silent.

Claire puts the dishes into the sink. She says “Why don’t you go explore outside? You sure look like you’re getting better. Get some fresh air!” Daniel says “I’ll wait for Sean and (Y/N)! And then we’ll go! We won’t be loud! Promise!” She says “But be careful nobody sees you. Stay in the back, okay?”

Sean waits for Daniel to leave before he says “Maybe you should tell him that it was Karen’s room...” Claire says “It’s just a room now, Sean...Nothing to see...” He tells her “Daniel needs that...He doesn’t know anything about her...” A little sincere, she says “I know, poor thing...but his mother isn’t in there anymore...So nobody goes in the room, okay? I’m serious...”

He asks “Did mom ever contact you? She only talked to dad a few times...then she was gone...” Claire sighs “Yes, she was...You know, Sean, I don’t really want to talk about this anymore. It’s over...Anyway...You have to respect my rules under my roof, okay?” He says “Of course...Always.” I say “Okay.” Claire says “I appreciate that...Now, you both better go find Daniel...”

She starts walking out of the kitchen when she adds, “There’s a shed with some old toys outside...I’ll...bet Stephen has the key.” Sean says “Daniel will freak...” I tell her “Thank you...”

We place our glasses in the sink as Claire sits in her recliner. We start walking around the house. Sean checks on Daniel who is working on homework. I peak out the window near the back door. Then I go over to the aquarium to try and find the fish. Sean comes back into the living room. Claire says “Sorry for getting upset, I...I just don’t feel comfortable talking about all this.” He tells her “It’s...It’s fine, really. We don’t have to.”

The three of us all of a sudden hear a faint pop. I jumped a tiny bit. Claire says “What? He’s letting him play with firecrackers again? Aw, for Christ sakes...”

Sean begins “Hey, Claire...” Claire asks “What’s on your mind, Sean?” He asks “Do you know anything about...dad’s funeral?” She says “There was a service...we couldn’t make it in time, but we sent flowers. I’m sorry, Sean...” He says “It’s okay...I just wanted to make sure...somebody took care of him...” Claire says, sincere “Hopefully...you can go visit him at some point...” He says “At some point...yeah.”

I look up from the aquarium, ask “I hope this isn’t out of line but if you don’t mind me asking, what did you think of him?” Sean says “You can tell me. I won’t get mad.” Claire begins “Well, your father was...He was his own person.” He says “That’s it? I mean...I know you guys didn’t really get along...” She continues “It’s just...Esteban was very different from us. And he never took a single step to change any of that.” I saw that that struck a little nerve with him. He took a few seconds before saying anything. He says “Sounds like dad. He wasn’t one to smooth things over.” Claire says “Trust me, I know the type. But he did raise you boys on his own. Can’t argue with that.” He says “Yeah...He worked his ass off for us...Wish I’d realized that sooner.” She says “Don’t worry, Sean.”

I ask “What’s the story with your neighbor?” Claire explains “Charles? Poor man used to be a basketball coach, but had to move out here after his wife’s passing...He’s got a job at the rail yard now, and...Well, he’s still recovering.” Sean says “Wow...I mean, that’s sad.” She says “We try to give him a hand...Keep an eye on his...drinking problem. His son, Chris, is a little angel, though. I think Daniel would be a good infuence on him...He’s got great role models, after all...” He says “Thanks...” I add “We’re trying our best.” Sean says “Wel...Thanks, Claire.” She says “You are very welcome...It’s always a pleasure.”

Daniel comes into the living room. Sean says to him, “Man. Can you imagine watching a slasher movie out here? Deep in the woods...No one around...” I say “Yeah, that would be really cool.” Daniel says “No way! Too scary...” Still examining the aquarium, I ask “Have you ever seen any actual fish in here?” They say “Never...” Daniel goes over to Claire and asks “Hey, grandma, where are the fish?” She says “Well, there’s only one, and he’s terribly shy...”

Sean sits in a side corner by the TV and pulls out his sketchbook. Daniel and I sit on the couch. He says “Hey! We wanna be in your drawing!” Claire says “Awww, don’t draw me like this, Sean. I’m a mess!” He says “Don’t worry, I’m drawing the whole room.” He begins sketching. She adds “Good. It’s so nice to see you practice, you’re so passionate!”

After he finishes sketching, he says “I’m gonna go see Stephen in his study and get the key.” Daniel says “Cool.” He leaves the room to head to the study. I go and look at the ship in the bottle. I ask “What happened to the ship?” Claire says “Oh, that thing? Stephen made it years ago, but it fell and he doesn’t know how to fix it...” I say “That’s sad...Looks pretty cool, anyway...” She says “Yeah, well...It’s life!” Daniel and I sat back on the couch. We just chit chatted.

Before Sean left the study, Daniel decided to go and hide. He didn’t tell me where he was going. Claire is about to walk out the door when she runs into Sean. I hear her say “Oh, there you are, Sean! Got the key? Hey, I have to go out and run some errands...Can you do me a big favor? Do you know how to work a washing machine?” He tells her “Since I was about 8...” She says “Of course...Can you throw in the clothes from the basket after the next load? They’re in the bathroom.” He says “Totally, yeah...No problem.” She says “Thank you so much...Feel free to start tidying up too, it’s good for the health to keep a house clean.” Sean tells her “Definitely. They can help too.” She says “Oh, and remember, for your own safety, no phone and no internet. I know, I know, boring rules...” He says “Don’t worry, Claire.” The front door opens and then closes.

Sean comes back into the living room. He mentions that he got the key and a little bit of what him and Stephen talked about. He noticed Daniel was gone. He asks “Where’s Daniel?” I tell him “Hiding.” He asks “Want to help me find him?” I say “Of course.”

Sean held a finger up and calls out, “Hey, Daniel! There’s work for you!” From somewhere in the house, he yells back “Uh, no! I’m busy!” I shake my head, smiling. Sean yells back “Busy my ass! Come over here!” He yells while laughing, “You gotta find me first!” Sean says “Jeez...” We check all over the first floor but no luck. Then we head upstairs. We check their bedroom but nothing. Sean points in the direction of the bathroom and says “Shhhh...”

We came up with a quick plan. We noticed the shower curtain closed and the door wide open. I go to the shower curtain and Sean stays kind of hidden in front of the bathroom door. I say “I know you’re in there...” I pull back the curtain but no luck. Daniel comes from behind the door, “BEHIND YOU!” That’s when Sean grabs his arm and says “GOTCHA!” We both laugh. Daniel says “Okay, okay...”

Sean says “No more hiding, seriously!” Daniel says “Okay, okay. What do I have to do?” I tell him “You tidy the mess in your room and we’ll take care of the rest. Cool?” He says “Yeah, sure...it sucks...” He walks out the bathroom and toward their room. Sean says “We know...Thanks.” I help him carry the laundry. I say “All right. Let’s get it over with.” We take the laundry downstairs and put them in the washer. We look at the controls, Sean says “How many programs doses this thing have? Okay. It will do.”

We walk out and go back into the living room. We see Daniel quickly hang up the phone. Sean says, furiously “What the hell are you doing?” Daniel says “What? I just picked up the phone!” He says “You know what, dude? We are not supposed to be here. Who was it?” Daniel says “I don’t know! Some kid! It was just a prank...” I tell him “We know, just...be careful, okay?” Daniel says “Don’t worry!”

We walk to the back door, I say “You guys ready? We can go out, now.” They say “Yes!” We put our winter gear on. I open the back door and we step outside into the snow.

The snow looked beautiful with the sun shimmering off it. There was a slight breeze. We could hear water splashing around from next door. Daniel says “Aawwww! Man, finally! Feels so good to be outside. Reminds me of the cabin. Aowwwwww!” Sean and I join in, “Owwoooooo!” He says “Watch out for the pack!” We walk around the yard and check things out for a few minutes. We head over to the shed. Sean takes the key out of his pocket and tries to unlock the main door. He says “Get ready for storage wars?” I ask “What’s wrong?” He says “Frozen shut! Of course...”

We all of a sudden hear something running through the snow. Daniel says as he points to the house next door, “Look!” We watch as a kid climbs up the steps of his treehouse. One of them breaks and the kid starts to fall. I gasp and place my hands over my mouth. Daniel extends his hand and stops the kid from hitting the ground. I see out of the corner of my eye that Sean pushes Daniel’s arm down as the kid is gently lowered to the ground.

The kid examines his hands. We walk closer to the fence with Daniel fast walking in front. We wave to him. The kid waves back. He asks “Hmmm...uh...Did you see that?” I say “Yeah...We did...It looks like you’re okay, though...” Daniel says “You were almost floating!” The kid says “I-I was...I was! I could feel myself in the air...It-It was awesome...”

The kid had on some sort of costume. Daniel says “That’s an awesome costume...Who’s your favorite superhero? I love...” At the same time, they say “Power Bear!” The kid says “Oh man, I have the Mega Power Bear! You should check it out!” He says “Dude, that’s so cool!”

A man comes running up to the kid, kneels down and places his hands on his shoulders. The man says “Chris, oh god...Look, I am so sorry, are you okay?” They hug. Chris says “Dad, I’m fine! I promise!” Sean and I look at each other concerned. The man says “Are you sure? Listen, I shouldn’t have...”

The man looks over through the fence and notices us standing there. He stands up and puts an arm around his son. He asks “Do you know them?” Chris says “It’s-It’s okay, dad, they’re cool! He loves superheroes! Even Power Bear!” The man says “Ah...gotcha...Hey, there...Are you staying with the Reynolds?” Sean says “Oh...Uh...Yeah. They’re our grandparents.”

The man says “I see...Oh jeez, Chris...you don’t have any damn shoes on. I’m sorry, buddy, let’s get you inside...” Chris says a little defeated, “I, uh...Yeah, okay dad...” The man says “Thanks, guys...Oh, and...uh...if Claire asks, tell her everything is fine...” Sean and I say “Sure...” He adds “No problem.” The man says “Cool. See you around, then.”

Chris gets onto his dad’s back. He says “Thanks, guys...See you later...” Daniel tells him “Yes we will!” We wave to them as they walk back towards their house.

Sean frustratedly, says “Daniel! Did you forget everything about the rules already?” I say “Sean, it’s fine.” Daniel says “Sorry...Did you want me to let him fall? Really?” I calmly tell him, “No, you...You did the right thing. But listen...We can’t let anybody know...We have to keep a low profile out here...” Daniel stuck his tongue out at Sean. He says “He’s like my age...I bet you would have done the same exact thing...Don’t be mad...” Sean tells him “I’m not mad, dude. It’s...It’s over.”

Sean reminds him “Daniel! Remember that we’re hiding out...So no training and no showing off your power...” I tell him “From now on, you stick with us all the time...Okay?” We playfully push each other and walk back towards the shed laughing.

[theuntamednarrator]

Shenanigans on the High Seas

from @trensu​, the blog that brought you WangXiantics, and from that other blog that just, like, screams a lot in the tags, comes the AU that we all desperately need because, frankly, we’re a little dehydrated from crying over the Nie Bros (drumroll please)

PIRATE AU!!!

You know you want it

the Zidian is Jiang Cheng’s ship. he inherited it from his mother, who was known as the Violet Spider, Scourge of the Seven Seas

before she retired, Captain Yu had two first mates she’d trained since childhood, Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang

after Captain Yu retired they got married and are now Pirate Wives with an-all female crew aboard the Yiling Matriarch

her bright red sails are just as feared as the purple sails of Zidian or the sable sails of Ghost General

any man who sets foot on the Matriarch best be prepared to lose it, and the leg it’s attached to

rumour has it that every carpenter from beijing to budapest pays the Matriarch a commission, for keeping them in work making peg legs, but that’s just a rumour

JC captains the Zidian alongside his first mate Jiang Yanli

the rumours about her say that she’s the reason there’s so little murdering done by those aboard the Zidian

but the crew know she once ordered a captive tied to a chunk of bait and thrown overboard near Shark Reef Bay

granted, she let the crew fish him back out after the first bite, and Jin Zixun never said another word about Captain Wei Wuxian until he was ransomed

but still

speaking of WWX, he captains the Ghost General, though far from doing any actual captaining he’s usually to be found up in the crow’s nest with a bottle of rum and his flute

luckily, his trusted first mate Wen Ning is more than capable of handling the General

his very favourite targets are the Jin Company’s slave traders, and most of his crew are former captives who chose to stay with him after their rescue

regardless of how drunk he might be, no one can fight like Captain WWX, except perhaps JC and JYL, they did grow up together after all!

because WWX was a foundling fished from the wreckage of a vanquished merchant ship by the Violet Spider at age 6 and taken to the island hideaway where her lover, former merchant sailor turned stay-at-home-dad Jiang Fengmian, is raising their two children

because this is a HAPPY AU DANGIT, and we deserve ONE AU where these two don’t traumatise their children

Captain Yu and JFM are in fact very, very happy together and raise little WWX together alongside JYL and JC

Captain Yu and JFM met when she raided his ship

he offered himself and all the gold aboard in return for his crew’s lives

she thought him rather striking and went about setting him up on a little island she knew, very out of the way, where she can visit as often as she likes

JFM is DELIGHTED by this turn of events, which he loudly denies has anything to do with Captain Yu’s famed skill with a whip

while JFM was settling into his sugar baby life, his crew were returning back to their home port to report to JFM’s business partner, Lan Qiren, that the Violet Spider had killed JFM and taken all their gold

LQR, who had secretly been in love with his best friend and business partner for years, declares the Violet Spider his ARCH NEMESIS and sets about trying to destroy her

when his brother and sister-in-law die and leave his two nephews in his care he ropes them into the feud

the Lan Brothers both join the merchant navy and are the very most eligible bachelors polite society has to offer

they hate all pirates of course but especially the unholy trio of Zidian, Ghost General, and the Yiling Matriarch

this makes it VERY awkward when Lan Wangji finds himself THROWN OVERBOARD during a terrible storm, rescued by WWX, and dragged aboard the General

at first, recognising the uniform, WWX keeps LWJ under his eye by tying their wrists together with a length of rope for absolutely no other reason definitely not cause he’s cute, nope, no sir

later, LWJ manages to snatch a sword and an EPIC DUEL ENSUES *cue he’s a pirate (main theme) from PotC here*

they’re in the rigging, they're sliding down the sails, they’re fighting up and down the deck

LWJ is HORRIFIED to realise at one point that WWX is laughing

even worse, he, LWJ, is having fun??? wtf he’s never had fun in his life how dare

after the fight ends in a draw LWJ and WWX come to an Understanding and have many deep and meaningful conversations as they sail back towards port

both of them fall madly in love of course, but Pirate!WWX and Midshipman!LWJ are just as emotionally dense as the OG varieties so there’s A LOT of pining

Seriously- so. much. pining

they probably battle a sea monster at some point because that’d be sick

finally, they arrive back at the port and WWX asks (sadly, because pining) where he should leave him and LWJ says (sadly, because pining) that any of the Gusu Cloud piers is fine

and WWX laughs because how funny! my dad used to be a merchant sailor for the Gusu Cloud Company

which is how LWJ discovers that the ‘dad’ WWX has been telling stories about for literal WEEKS is actually his uncle's now not-so-long-lost-love!because they are both Disaster Drama Gays™ they decide they simply MUST do this Right. After all, it’s an Epic Reunion™!!!

LWJ convinces his uncle to come out sailing with him (even though LQR has not boarded a ship since JFM was lost, cue sweeping nostalgic music and distant stare into montage of the two of them in their Youth)

they row him blindfolded out to the island where JFM and Captain Yu live and the moment LQR sees JFM it’s jaws to the floor.

there are tears

JFM puts his hands on LQR’s shoulders and says ‘my old friend. you never said’

they hug

it’s adorable

don’t roll your eyes it’s adorable and you know it

Captain Yu and LQR still Do Not Get Along

their Epic Rivalry™ continues but now it’s just morphed into them trying to outdo each other in displays of affection

JFM’s little island house soon holds more jewels, gold, fine silk, and artwork than half the royal coffers of europe

family dinners are a DELIGHT

JC freaking runs whenever his father hosts Captain Yu and LQR for dinner

because 1) god dad, you're so embarrassing, and 2) HE DOES NOT WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING THEY GET UP TO BEHIND CLOSED DOORS THANKS

JYL thinks it's sweet and loves seeing her dad so happy

WWX does the pirate-time equivalent of a bro fistbump with JFM, like, NICE.

LWJ is very quiet but secretly loves it because he, as we all know, is That Bitch

‘A wedding! I love it! drinks all round!’ – WWX, probably, when the three finally announce they’re getting married

the wedding is WILD

there’s a whole lot of dancing, WWX is in the thick of it of course

LWJ wants so badly to ask him to dance but he still hasn’t told him how he feels (because emotionally dense disaster gays, remember?)

he finally has to go outside after WWX somehow convinces LQR to dance a jig with him which means WWX has officially asked everyone to dance except him

he goes and sits in the tidal rockpool, and his billowy white shirt is all wet and see through when WWX comes stumbling out of the party calling for him

WWX sees LWJ silhouetted by an endless horizon of ocean and stars and dies. he's quiet for the first time in his whole life

then LWJ turns and sees him so of course WWX has to go down and talk to him. he may be a pirate but he’s not a barbarian (unlike some certain nies we could name but won’t he’s definitely not still salty about the arm wrestle incident with Captain Nie’s ‘little brother’ eh he’s not much of a fighter but he’s great with languages yeah right his wrist still hurts sometimes bloody barbarians)

‘ah lan zhan lan zhan! you aren’t allowed to run away; we haven’t had a dance yet. even your uncle danced with me surely you can’t say no!’ *pouts*

lwj.exe has stopped working

but of course he can’t deny WWX anything so he makes to head back inside

now wwx.exe has stopped working

because to HELL if he’s sharing wet LWJ in a see though white shirt with the rest of those imbeciles

‘ah, um lan zhan lan zhan we can hear the music from here just fine can’t we? let’s just dance right here?’

and of course LWJ says yes

so the two of them just dance together on the edge of the ocean, waves lapping over their bare feet

until a particularly big one knocks them flat (listen, it’s a trope for a REASON dagnabbit)

WWX ends up sprawled over LWJ’s chest and he’s laughing and apologizing

but LWJ is just looking at him, wreathed in stars, eyelashes so wet and glittering, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen

WWX notices how still he is and they just pause for a moment and stare at each other

doesn’t really matter who kisses who but they are kissing and it’s wet and salty, there is sand in their teeth, and they absolutely do not give a flying dutchman

they don’t even register the cheers and catcalling until JC runs up and dumps a bucket of water over their heads

because dammit he hasn’t spent months running out of every room his parents and LQR are in just to watch his big brother pop his cherry get it on on the beach

the rest of the gang are all watching from the porch

WN and LXC look very awkward and embarrassed

JYL looks fond and is shaking her head

JC meanwhile is having a heated argument with WQ because there were bets on you see

WQ ‘pouring a bucket of water over them is cheating I’m not paying you one penny JC’

JC ‘I’m a pirate why on earth would you expect me to play by the rules pay up Captain’

WWX and LWJ sneak away while they’re all arguing

The General has one new crew member when she next sails out

ANYWAY married gay pirates wangxian having adventures AU is what we’re saying

Also for your consideration other delightful Pirate!AU options include:

naval officer!lwj chasing down pirate!wwx (think norrington/sparrow if Disney weren’t COWARDS);

high society!lwj in love with blacksmith-turned-pirate!wwx (the Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner dynamic, except with Swann in the forge fight because we said so);

davy jones!lwj pining for calypso!wwx (carving your heart out = chest brand anyone? seriously, just imagine LWJ setting foot on dry land for the first time in 13, 16, 10 YEARS, playing the song he’s composed for his love and WWX IS NOT THERE!!!!) 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[checkmate] [3]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis.

Notes: After many hours of writing and rewriting this story, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s going to be way longer than I anticipated [what else is new]. I want to keep the all chapters around the same length [about 5k] so there’s a lot of splitting being done. I think it’s safe to say that there will be more than four parts to this like I had originally planned. 

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you for reading and for all the positive feedback!

As I’ve said before, this is a part of the contest prize story for @bluebutterfly1​!

Read on AO3

---

Through the crack of the walker’s skull, blood oozes dark, dripping down the handle of the hatchet and onto his hand. Cold, clotted, and disgusting. 

Hugo pushes the dead walker down with a huff just as Isabel finishes off the last one a few steps away. 

They’re repulsive, the walkers. Even now, Hugo can’t over their decaying stench and peeling flesh. These walkers, in particular, are more disgusting- fresher walkers usually are. 

Older walkers- years and years older- are slower, nothing but leathery skin and bone, weak from muscle deterioration and perhaps even hunger. 

Newer walkers are what scare Hugo. Not only are the remains of a humane appearance more present, but they’re stronger, quicker, hungrier.  

Killing them is such a normal thing now, he thinks. It’s easier when he considers it as a prevention of more chaos with every walker he kills. One less fresh walker. One less to wander around and devour innocent, unsuspecting survivors. There’s been too much of that. 

“All clear,” Isabel says, wiping her knife off on the dirty rag attached to her belt. “Can we make this quick?” 

Up close on the pier, the boat is an absolute wreck. Stray pieces of wood jut out of the water, metal stuck swaying with the waves, knocking into the boat. From what he can see, there isn’t a safe enough way for him to climb inside. 

“Yep, it’s terrible. A real mess,” Isabel says. “Worst boat I’ve ever stood before in my life.”

Hugo raises a brow, elbowing her with a smirk. 

“Worse than The Nauti Buoy?”

Isabel wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. I hated that damn thing.”

The Nauti Buoy was the clever name of his brother’s boat, one Stephen prided himself on, even though he stole the name from another boat he came across in his travels to pass off as his own. 

Hugo used to say, “You know how people end up looking like their animals? Well, Stephen looks like his boat.”

Gaudy decor inside and out, painted a terrible antique gold color, much bigger than necessary. 

Well, he thought so at the time. After Stephen’s second divorce, he ended up living in the damn thing. Oh, how proud their mother was. At least he was able to keep his prized watch collection safe and secure, because that’s all that really mattered. 

Hugo only ever brought his family onto that boat once. Isabel grew so sick an hour in that they had to turn the damn thing around and head back to shore. 

Not Louis, though. 

Louis loved being on that boat. Not once did he ever get sick, except Hugo had to warn him about leaning too far over the railing to get a better look at the dolphins he spotted. Nearly fell overboard and gave Hugo a heart attack. 

Seeing Louis’ glowing face as he marveled at the waves and salty air was what inspired Hugo to invest in a boat of his own. 

Louis named it Gus. 

Didn’t really have a reason, he just thought the boat looked like a Gus. 

Hugo smiles. 

“It wasn’t that bad, just ugly,” he says. “What do you think happened?.” 

“I told you, someone blew it to shit,” Isabel says. “What exactly are you expecting to find?”

“Something useful,” Hugo kneels down, pressing a hand against the boat to steady himself as he leans in through a gaping hole. “Clothes, weapons, maybe food.”

“Hey, careful-”

“Look, through there? I can see a couple of crates floating inside. Worth checking out. Here, why don't you go check along the shore, I’ll see if I can grab one.”

“How about I stay right here and help you? I know you’re gonna fall in and I’ll have to fish you out.” 

“I’m not gonna fall in,” Hugo rolls his eyes. “Have some faith in me.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, Hugh,” Isabel frowns. “I’d just rather prevent a disaster than try and fix one. Who knows what’s lurking around in these waters.”

“What, you think a shark’s going to gobble me up?”

“No, a walker,” Isabel kneels down beside him. “They can move under there much better than we can, and they don’t gotta breathe. If this ship crashed, odds are there were people on it who were thrown into the water. Hence, walkers.”

Well, damn, he hadn’t thought of that. Leaning over the edge, Hugo squints. The water’s pretty mucky, so he can’t tell how deep it is or what the bottom holds. 

“I could out swim a walker, but to put your mind at ease-,” Isabel scoffs “-I’ll look around here some more and see if I can find something to pull the crates closer while you go search the shore, then we can pull the crates out together.” 

“Y’know there’s probably nothing in them but useless, sodden supplies, right?” Isabel says, “I mean, I doubt this was some sort of battleship that carried weapons and first aid. Hell, it probably carried toy cars or something.”

“Toy cars?” Hugo laughs. “If that’s the case, then your little friend won’t need to ride around in your bag anymore. He can drive right beside us.”

“You’re not funny.”

“No?” Hugo smirks. “I’m a little funny, c’mon. Geoff driving around in a little car? Honking at the squirrels? Flippin’ me the bird every chance he gets? Hilarious.” 

With an exasperated shake of her head, Isabel turns on her heels towards the shoreline, saying, “Fine, I’ll walk around. Don’t touch those crates until I get back because I swear if you fall in-”

“I’m not going to fall in,” Hugo calls after her. “I’m as coordinated as the most athletic breed of... cat!” Cats are coordinated, right? 

He wouldn’t know, he never owned one. 

He wishes he owned a cat, but Louis insisted on a damn turtle. 

Isabel snorts a chuckle. “Yeah, okay!” 

“You doubt me?”

“I doubt you.”

“Madam, now you’ve wounded me!” 

“You’ll live.”

“Hey, while you’re over there, let Geoff go for a swim, too! He hasn’t done that in a while. He can scout for water walkers.” 

That earns him Isabel’s lovely middle finger. He presses a hand against his chest, pushing his lip out in a pretend pout. 

“Once again, she chooses the turtle over me.”

That makes Isabel laugh, shaking her head and giving a dismissive wave.  “We meet back in five!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Hugo watches her briefly, taking in the sight of her walking along the shore, stepping over pieces of broken wood and rocks. Her loose top flutters with the rustling wind against the curve of her waist and a strange tingle of emotion cause him to pause.

A lifetime ago, Hugo and Isabel walked along a beach. 

Much cleaner than this one with a much prettier sight. Along the shores of Makena Beach, they walked together barefoot. Isabel wore a dress she bought in one of the shops, one that fluttered in the wind the same exact way her shirt does now. 

She was young, her hair long, curls big and windblown.

Pregnant, about seven weeks along.

“Shit,” Hugo mumbles. 

He wonders what the state of Hawaii is, if their walker population is great or not. 

Not that it matters. 

There’s no way he’ll make it to those shores ever again, much less walk along them with Isabel and Louis. 

He always thought about bringing Louis back there, too. 

After he graduated high school, Hugo wanted to bring him to look at the colleges. He’d get into the best school they had to offer, of course, because Louis was a straight A student- when properly motivated- and there he’d get his degree while studying the culture and history of Hawaii and its people, land a damn good job and make a name for himself. 

He can just see his boy now. Tall and handsome with his mother’s eyes and a beautiful smile... happy and satisfied with his life. 

Louis would fall in love with a pretty girl, propose to her, and have a gorgeous wedding on the beach. They’d have a handful of kids, too. Hugo would be more than happy to become a grandfather. 

A grandfather... babysitting Louis’ children while he and his lovely wife went out on date nights...

Hugo rubs his eyes along the sleeve of his shirt, sighing. 

Nostalgic for what never was, he supposes. 

They need to find that school, Hugo thinks. No matter what, once they’re done here- after they’ve scavenged some useful supplies- they’ll head back to the train station to look for a map. 

They couldn't find one earlier, but maybe they didn’t look hard enough. They only really looked around to make sure it wasn’t someone else’s home, then headed back this way to check out the wreckage Hugo spotted. 

They have to be close, closer than they’ve ever been. From the faintest part of his memory, he remembers the road being long and yet hard to find. He had to pay attention to the road signs, but his concentration was more than unfocused with Louis silently fuming in the backseat. 

“You’re only staying for a year, or until we can... until we can sort some things out.”

“...”

“You’ll have a dorm with a roommate. Mr. Davidson told me he’s a good kid, he just... fell down a wrong path, so I don’t want to get any calls about you mistreating him.”

“...”

“This isn’t going to be like your other school. You will be respectful to your roommate, your classmates, and your teachers. No excuses, no exceptions. Understand?”

“...”

“Louis, answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“...”

Hugo glances back at the boat. 

He hopes there’s something to gain from doing this, but at the very least, he got to see an old-timey riverboat like this up close. Little things..

Hugo pays another look to Isabel as she inspects a piece of soggy wood before pushing away from the boat to move along the pier. Over the edge, the corner of what looks to be a crate sticks up. Dropping down to his knees with a slight wince- damn leg!- Hugo rolls up his sleeves, sinking his hands in the chilled water. 

Thoughts of the cool waves crashing against the shores of Makena Beach haunt him, memories of swimming and laughing and kissing-

“Shit,”  Hugo finds a good grip on the crate and yanks. “Knock it off-”

It barely budges, caught on something. 

He tries again, grunting at the horrible pull in his back. A shock jolts through his bad leg, making him bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from yelping. Letting go, he adjusts his position.

“There’s nothing over here!” Isabel calls. “Just garbage!”

With a better, firmer grip, Hugo pulls. The crate loosens, lifting up out of the water. 

“Damn it…” Hugo gives an exasperated sigh. 

It’s empty and broken, it’s bottom missing. Whatever goods filled it are nowhere to be found. 

“Damn, damn, damn,” he mutters, standing to rub his dripping hands along his pants, kicking the useless crate back into the water. “Double damn.” 

He opens his mouth to shout out a complain, but sees Isabel down closer to the water, her open bag beside her. Grinning to herself, she holds onto Geoff as he moves through the water. 

Hugo thinks to make a joke both to tease her and make himself feel better about his lack of findings, but decides against it. Instead, he soaks in the sight of her content smile. 

Moving along the pier, he calls out, “Hey, got a question for you!”

“No!” 

Hugo laughs.

“You ever think about growing your hair out again?”

Isabel’s face scrunches up in a way that tells Hugo that’s a dumb question, nearly losing her grip on Geoff. 

“You seriously asking me that?” she shakes her head. “Hair like that is nothing but a death trap! Remember back in Peach Creek? Damn walker nearly took a chunk out of my neck! Not only that, but it got its nasty fingers all stuck in it and there was skin and puss and-ugh!”

“Oh shit, that’s right,” Hugo grunts, bending back down along the hardwood to fish out a piece of clothing- a sleeve of a denim jacket. “That was a nice place.”

A nice place, indeed, but one of many that almost killed them.

One of the worst moments in their lives happened while staying with the group at the Peach Creek Clinic. 

The people there were sympathetic to their dire situation. After losing their vehicle to a bunch of selfish assholes, barely having anything to their names aside from pictures of Louis and his clothes, the group took them in. 

It seemed secure at the time, with a small group and plenty of medical supplies. Scarce food, though. Hugo and Isabel might’ve stayed there longer but anxiousness about getting to West Virginia sent them back on the road after another incident with walkers breaking in. 

Half the group perished during that attack.  They’re both lucky Hugo was there to take care of the walker before it got to her, but he couldn’t stop it from getting it’s fingers stuck and tangled in Isabel’s curls. 

She was hysterical, tears dripping down her bruised cheeks as Hugo cut out chunks of hair to get the damn hand out. Bodies of their fallen friends surrounded them, and he thought they both might pass out.

When he tried to pick out the remaining pieces of rotten flesh and bone all while attempting to comfort her, Isabel insisted that they just cut it all off. 

One of the survivors- shit, what was her name? Yolanda, maybe? Rhonda?- did a nice, clean shave of her head. Short and close to her scalp, nothing for anyone to grab. 

They left the next morning. The survivors at the clinic were understanding and kind enough to send them with a bag of medical supplies they were able to spare, and fish food for Geoff, since all the fish within the lobby tank was no longer around. 

Through the shallow water closer to shore, the falling sunlight gleams off of something stuck in the sand. 

“Ah-ha!” Hugo grins, ignoring the pain in his knee as he shifts into a better position. Rolling up his sleeve, he reaches in to dig through the mushy sand. His thumb brushes something firm. 

“Why?” Isabel asks, kicking at another piece of wood on her way back towards the pier. Geoff drips in her hands, merry after spending time in the water. “What brought that on?”

“Was thinking about Hawaii,” Hugo winces, leaning further down into the water, fully submerging his arm. 

“Hawa- Hey! What are you doing-?”

“Ah!” Hugo flings himself back, victorious with a muddy knife in his hand. “Ah-ha! Got it!” 

“Huh, look at that,” Isabel says. 

“Told’ja we’d find something useful. You can never have too many knives,” Hugo grins, pulling a rag from his pocket to wipe the mud away. With a dull, scratched to hell blade, the knife will be just as effective in killing walkers as any other weapon. 

“Well, I’ll give it to you,” Isabel says, “a knife is much more than what I found over there.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” Hugo smirks, which dies when he notices Geoff's perpetual glare fixated on him. A childish impulse to stick his tongue out at the damned creature overwhelms him. He bites it back and returns the glare.

“That’s not long enough to help us grab the crates.”

“There wasn’t anything over there?”

"A couple planks of wood,” Isabel shrugs. 

“We don’t need anything fancy, just something long enough to push the crates towards us.”

Isabel looks to the bright sky, searching for any sign of evening coming upon them. They have plenty of daylight left, but Isabel’s patience is running out, replaced with anxiety. She sets Geoff down on the ground. 

“Watch him, I’ll grab the one I was looking at.” 

“Watch him?” Hugo frowns, pointing at Geoff with his brand new knife. “Where’s he gonna go?”

Geoff glowers up at him, beady black eyes slitted and neck extended up towards him. 

Hugo leans down, whispering, “Hey buddy, have you ever heard of caouane, by chance?”

---

They’re a cheery duo, ain’t they?

Thomas smirks. 

Hidden among the greens with a shoulder leaning against the sticky bark of a tree, Thomas listens to their bickering. Can’t make out much, unfortunately, but he’s got the gist. Almost reminds him of how he and Julie would talk long ago. Julie was meaner than the girl- what the hell is that she’s carrying?- but that don’t matter now. 

Julie’s dead and it’s just Thomas and the beauty in his hand, fully loaded and itchin’ to be fired. 

Not that he’s going to go up and shoot the strangers. 

They ain’t dangerous from what he can tell- the girl’s got a fire in her but the man’s got a limp. 

He don’t know what they’re looking for in the wreckage. Maybe they’re hoping to find some of the kids, but there’s no way this is where they’d hide. No, those kids got ‘em selves a school around here somewhere, even if he and these two don’t know where it is.

But, from the sounds of it, they got an idea and sometimes, that’s enough. 

Thomas knows that if he scours these woods long enough, he’ll find the school. The problem is would he find it before these two did? He don’t know how many kids there’ll be, but he knows that if they got two capable adults on their side, then things won’t go as smoothly.

Especially if these two actually find their kid.

Thomas scoffs. 

Bunch of twits. 

What makes ‘em think they got a chance of seeing their kid again? He’d bet his lucky dollar that their kid is roaming around here as one of the dead if he’s not already in a shallow grave.

Hell, maybe they will find him. Their little baby boy, gaunt, rotten insides with hollow eyes and a hunger for flesh… charging at them with not an ounce of recognition… and even as they’re begging him to stop, screaming, “Stop, it’s us! It’s your mommy and daddy, son! Remember us? Remember us-”

No, he don’t remember nothing. The dead don’t remember.

The kid’ll just keep scurrying towards ‘em… arms held out and jaw slack. 

Maybe they’ll be so distraught that they just let their kid chew ‘em both up.

Together. Undead.

The gun is heavy in his hand. 

Quiet laughter.

Thomas, fingers wrapped painfully tight around his gun, squints back over at the pier.

They’re trying to get something out of the wreckage, using a long chunk of wood to do so. Thomas leans up, attempting to get a better look at ‘em. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an old pair of glasses. Not his prescription, but he ain’t the picky type. Though they’ll bring on a mean headache later, they help him get a better look at the couple still struggling to get something out of the boat. 

Down on their hands and knees, they work together to fish out whatever’s in there all while engaging in jovial chatter.

Pretty girl, Thomas thinks. Real nice shape. 

Times like these he wishes he’d find himself a pair of binoculars. 

Raspy groans emit from his right. A pair of walkers trod along, interested in all the commotion being made along the shore. 

Just in time. 

More’ll be coming here pretty quick- he saw a whole handful of them about a mile away, mingling together in search of something to tear their teeth into. He whistled at ‘em, then took off back to where he is now. He’s lucky these two ain’t quick in their accomplishments. 

A walker- male, wearing a heavy coat and missing his left eye- hisses through his unhinged jaw as he crawls closer to where Thomas hides. 

He ain’t worried about it. The more walkers that come, the better. 

Ducking down lower, ignoring the age-old ache forever lining his back, he moves closer. Already the strain of his sight through the glasses brings on a fuzzy twinge behind his right eye. 

“I got it, just need to-”

“Careful-”

Behind this tree, he can actually make out most of what they’re saying now.

“On three, alright?” the man says. 

Together, they grunt out, “One… two… three!”

Thomas almost applauds. They managed to find something in the wreckage, and from the looks of it, that something is a crate. Well, he’ll be darned. 

What else could be floating around in that thing? Thomas never paid it much mind upon first discovery- he wasn’t ever going to explore it. Not worth getting his boots wet, that’s for damn sure. 

Also, he ain’t the best swimmer. 

Let ‘em do the grunt work. He can come back and look through it later. 

“See?” The man says, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Fully intact.”

“Don’t celebrate until we get it open.” 

“Really eager to see these toy cars, huh?” 

“If there are actually toy cars in here, I’m going to strangle you.” 

The man laughs, throwing a playful elbow towards the girl’s shoulder. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Thomas raises an interested brow. 

“Don’t be gross,” the girl laughs. 

“You’re right, sorry. I wouldn’t want to talk dirty in front of Geoff.”

Geoff? There ain’t no one else around...

“As if we haven’t scarred him enough in the past,” the man adds.

“Just shut up and open the damn thing so we can go.”

Another gurgle, this time closer. Thomas slinks back further into the bushes, breathing slowly, silently. He’s confident none of the walkers’ll find him. They’re as stupid as dirt with no actual hunting skills, thankfully. 

Thomas can’t imagine anyone would’ve made it as far as they have if the damned dead were smarter than the living. 

Then again, lots of folks are dead. 

Grabbing a heavy-duty rock from beside his foot, Thomas eyes the walkers moving past him. They’re foul, both in appearance and odor. Looks like they got torn apart real good when alive, too, given their shredded clothes and chunks of flesh torn from their arms and waist. 

The one-eyed walker crawls past.

What a way to go, Thomas thinks as he chucks the rock towards the shore, sending it crashing into one of the larger boulders with an echoing crack.

 It draws everyone's attention, the walkers practically wheezing with glee- well, Thomas likes to imagine they’re gleeful to have something to sniff out.

The couple jumping to their feet. 

“Ah, fuck!”

“What the hell was- Oh shit-!” 

The walkers approach the shore, quicker now that they have a meal to pursue. 

Thomas checks the chamber of his fully loaded gun. 

---

Hugo almost had it. 

With his knife jammed along the side of the lid, he was ready to pop it off victoriously.

A startling crack broke his concentration, causing him to lose his grip. The knife slips from the crack and jerks, slicing into the muscle below his thumb.

“Ah, fuck!” Hugo cries out, dropping the knife to cradle his bleeding hand. Blistering pain shocks through his fingers and up his arm. 

“What the hell was- Oh shit-” Isabel reaches out for his arm, holding on with a death grip.  “Walkers!” 

“What?” 

The crate before him forgotten, Hugo whips around.

A group of walkers head down the shore, each groaning and moving as fast as their decaying bodies can carry them. 

What? 

Where the hell did they come from? They made sure to scour the woods from the train station to the boat and take care of any straggling walkers that stood in their way. There weren’t that many. The most they had to deal with were along the shores. 

“There wasn’t a single walker for miles,” Hugo exclaims. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Don’t know,” Isabel says, staring up at him with wide eyes. She does a double-take when she notices the blood dripping from his hand. “Oh my god, Hugh, what the hell?”

“I’m fine, I slipped. It's just a scratch-”

“A scratch? Seriously?” She grabs his hand, inspecting the wound with wide eyes. "Bullshit, a scratch!"

“Forget it,” Hugo grabs the rag from his belt and ties it around his hand. “There’s only five of them. Nothing we can’t handle-”

“There isn’t only five, look!”

She’s not wrong- on their right, more come hobbling out of the woods. 

Hugo looks from the approaching walkers, down to the unopened crate, down to his bleeding hand. He winces, picking his knife back up. 

“We can handle them.”

“We could handle them if they didn’t already see us!”

“I’ll take the ones on the left-”

“Hugh, we gotta go! Forget the damn crates, they’re not worth dying for. Not now!”

Damn it...

"We're not risking everything!"

She pulls him forward with her down the pier, their boots clanking loudly against the worn wood, making the walkers perk up more. 

Isabel jumps over the side, splashing in the shallow water in hopes of cutting across the shore and into the woods before the walkers get any closer. An easy plan Hugo could follow if it weren’t for the three walkers emerging from their intended destination, blocking their path.

A nasty growl from his right sent Hugo whipping around. A walker- a woman with an exposed neck and chest cavity, missing clumps of hair from beneath her hat- hurries towards him. 

Fuck it. 

Hugo surges forward, grabbing the sticky bones of the walker's throat. The knife plunges through the side of its head with ease, and the walker falls to the ground. Hugo lets out a shaky breath, grunting out at the searing pain throbbing in his hand, painful enough to cause spots in his vision. 

“Hugo, I swear to Christ- don’t you dare get that hand-” Isabel kicks the shin of another walker. It falls to its knees, the perfect height for her to stab it through the head before sending the limp body crashing into yet another walker. A chain reaction of the force causes three of the walkers to fall back. 

“Use your gun,” Isabel tells him, attacking those fallen monsters as fast as she can.

“That’ll just attract more!” 

“So what? Kill these bastards so we can make a run for it!”

That’s assuming that he can successfully kill all of them, which he can’t with his last five bullets. 

There’s more than five left. 

More than ten, maybe. 

He can’t count. 

Where the fuck did they come from? He knows they weren't loud enough to attract this many. 

A walker with one eye crawls along the sand, grabbing at his ankle to gnaw on his boot. This knife breaks its skull with a sickening crack, the odor enough to churn his stomach. 

“Hugo, now!” Isabel shouts, stabbing another walker and pushing through. 

Hugo tries to follow. 

Even in its final death, the walker's grip remains strong on his ankle. He stumbles right into the grip of a heavyset walker, this one much younger, fresher compared to the decaying monsters- stronger.

A full set of rotten teeth snap at him. With his forearm pressed firmly against the chest of the monster, Hugo reaches back to grab his gun from its holster.

The shot rings in his ears, rattling his brain as gore explodes through the back of the walkers head. The earth swerves beneath his feet, acids in his stomach rise into his throat. He coughs, spitting into the dirt. 

Through nausea, Hugo aims. 

Another two shots- two walkers fall to the ground, motionless. 

A third. 

A fourth- fuck. 

Hugo lets off his final shot, hitting a walker struggling with Isabel. Seeing it’s no longer a threat, Isabel grabs onto it, heaving it towards another and sending them crashing. She’s by his side again, huffing, “Let’s go!”

Hugo nods.

He has no idea where the fuck these things came from, or how they showed up so suddenly, but he knows she’s right- whatever the hell is in that crate isn’t worth there lives, not when they’re so close-

“Shit!”

A hand grabs his backpack, jerking him backward. The foul stench of the walker's breath warms his ear and everything within Hugo runs cold. He throws an elbow, twisting himself around in the walker's embrace. 

He doesn’t see the fallen walker behind him. 

They both tumble to the ground. The gun slips out of his grip. 

“Hugo!”

A sixth shot.

The walker's blood splatters across Hugo’s face, and for a moment, he thinks he’s dead. The body slouches over him, unmoving.  

A seventh shot- an eighth- 

Isabel grabs the walker by its shirt, hauling it off of him before dropping to her knees. Her hands move all over him as she gasps out, “Holy shit, please, oh please, tell me you’re okay!” 

Several more shots fire, and one by one, the remaining walkers fall. 

Then there’s silence. 

Hugo reaches for his gun, scooping it up from the dirt before Isabel helps him up. He falls forward onto his bad knee. 

“Augh!”

“Sorry- c’mon-!”

Finally on his feet, Hugo surveys the area. 

All the dead are just that- fallen on the ground. 

“Are-” Hugo coughs “-are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Isabel shakes her head, narrowed eyes darting all around the forest. “Pissed off, but fine.” Without taking her sight off the forest, she slips her backpack off to glance inside. “Geoff’s okay, too.”

Terrific.

Because Hugo was so worried. 

Isabel leans down, whispering, “Hugh… someone’s here.”

He assumed so. 

The walkers didn’t shoot themselves. 

“Give me your gun.”

Hugo cocks his head to murmur in her ear, “We’re out of bullets.”

“He doesn’t know that.” 

The snapping of wood and rubber against rocks turns their attention back to the woods where a man walks out, waving over at them with a grin.

“Howdy!” he calls out, voice gruff and accent thick. 

Isabel snatches the gun from his hand before Hugo has a chance to protest, pointing it and stopping the man in his tracks. 

“That’s close enough!” 

“Woah, woah,” the man holds his hands up in surrender, though keeps his grip on his gun just as tight.  

“Belle-” Hugo warns, but the man chuckles lightly. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. I mean no harm! Heard the gunshots and saw y’all were havin’ some trouble, thought I’d lend a helpin’ hand. You folks alright?” 

Isabel doesn’t lower the gun, keeping her eyes fixated on the man as he cautiously continues to walk over.

“We’re fine,” Hugo answers. “Fine, no bites, just a little startled. Thanks for the help.”

“We could’ve handled it,” Isabel adds. “Thanks.”

The man nods, saying, “No, you look plenty capable, didn’t mean to say ya don’t. Just didn’t want to see any more folks die, y’know? Not when I could do the decent thing and help.”

He’s close now, close enough for Hugo to better make out the details of his graying, ginger beard and bald head. He pulls his glasses off and pockets them with his free hand, blinking rapidly as he grins. 

“Name’s Thomas,” he greets. “Nice to meet’cha.”

[lovemesomesurveys]

“I’m a dick, I’m addicted to you”

Do you add extra letters to words sometimes? (ex. haaaa) Yeahhh.

Do you like the letter Z or Q better? I don’t favor one over the other. Who would you like to be stuck on an island with? I’d like to not be stuck on an island at all. What's your favorite quote? I have a lot of favorite quotes. I just love relatable stuff that puts into words how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking better than I can. I struggle with expressing myself and putting it into words, so. Name one random fact about your best friend. She loves the ID channel.

Do you like vegetables or fruit better? Gonna be honest, I don’t eat much of either one. Especially, fruit... it’s been a few years since I’ve had any. :X I have spinach, potatoes, and green onions pretty often, but that’s all the veggies I’ve had in a few years as well. In comparison to my zero fruit intake it’s something at least, ha. There are fruits I like and a few more veggies as well, but I just haven’t had them in awhile. What brand of shoes do you wear? Adidas. What's your favorite smiley face? On the computer I use :) Do you believe that if someone goes to bed thinking of u, u dream of them? I’ve heard that before and it can be a cute thought, but nah. Have you ever snitched on someone for cheating? No. Do you own a Snuggie? I do. What's your favorite number? 8. Which of the 7 dwarves are you most like from Snow White? Sleepy. What's the last movie you watched? Dumb and Dumber yesterday. What's your favorite month? October and December.

“I’m alright”

Do you like the smell of campfires? Yesss. If you could do one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? I don’t know. Do you like eggnog? Yes. Is there a song out right now that you can't stand? I haven’t heard any new music recently. I haven’t been listening to music lately. If you could stay one age forever, what age would you pick? I’d be fine if I just stayed 31 here on out. What's your favorite state? I like my state the best out of the few states I’ve been to (the others being Arizona, Idaho, and Georgia). There’s a few I’d like to visit that could potentially take the top spot for me, though. Have you ever went in public with your tag still on your clothes? I don’t think so.

Would you say your loud or shy? I’m quiet and shy. What's your favorite symbol on the computer? I don’t have one. Are you afraid of clowns? Pennywise is awesome. Do you wear glasses? I do. Ever rode on a horse? Just on one at the pumpkin patch as a kid. Poor horse, guided around in a circle all day.  Do you have trouble saying or spelling some words? I think I spell pretty well. I stumble over my words when I talk sometimes, but I think my pronunciation is pretty good. Have you ever thought something was just to good to be true? Many times. And when I think that, it’s usually true. Do you like potatoes? I love potatoes.

“I’m in trouble, I’m an addict, I’m addicted to this girl”

Are you random? My thoughts and dreams are really random, but I wouldn’t describe myself that way. I’d say I’m predictable and boring. Do you believe that aliens are real? I don’t know. Certainly not the weird looking green creatures that are usually depicted for some reason. Do you sleep with the TV on? I do. I’ve done that ever since I was a kid. What's the longest you've slept in? Like 5PM or so. Have you ever seen a hairy toe? Yes. What's the last thing you watched on TV? Roseanne this morning. Do you have a song stuck in your head? Not at the moment. Who do you talk to the most? My mom and brother. What's the first thing you get on when the internet comes up? When the internet comes up oh man, was this made in the late 90s, early 2000s? lol. The first thing I do when I get on my laptop is continue scrolling through my Tumblr feed or do a survey. When's the last time you were sick? I’ve been sick with something for the past week. And no, it’s not the rona.

Which is your favorite: Music, Dogs, Shoes, Books, Jonas Brother? I love a variety of music, I love doggos in general, but I’m biased towards Labs and German Shepherds, Adidas are my favorite shoes, and back in my die hard Jonas Brothers days I was a total Joe girl. What color is your hair brush? Rose gold. Do you enjoy arcades? I did when I was a kid. We used to have one at my mall back when I was a kid that was a fun place to go. And Chuck E Cheese, ha. Have you ever liked 2 people at once? Yes. Have you taken a nap today? Not so far.

“show me the meaning of being lonely”

Would you ever want to be in a horror movie? I think it’d certainly come off as believable because I’m such a scardy cat and super jumpy. Being chased would genuinely scare me even it was acting. Even knowing what was going to happen I know I’d still be jumpy. Only thing is I don’t have the scream down that you gotta have for a horror movie.  Have you ever been to Washington D.C? Nope. Do you hate when girls have guyish names and boys have girly names? I really don’t care.  Have you lost or gained any weight since February? I know I haven’t gained any weight. I’ve probably lost some weight, which is really not good for someone who’s already underweight.  Have you ever felt like no one wanted to be around you? Yes. I don’t even want to be around me. I often feel like I’m such a burden and annoyance. It’s my own thinking and feeling, though. My family doesn’t do or say anything to make me feel that way. I have had other people make me feel that way, though.   Have you ever had to use a pay phone? Yes. Have you listened to music today? Nope. It’s been awhile since I’ve listened to music, actually. Do you only drink bottled water? Yes. Don’t judge me. I bet someone is on your mind right now, right? No, actually. Do you like writing in pen or pencil better? Pen, definitely. What's the last magazine you bought? I don’t even remember it’s been so long. Has anyone in your family ever forgot your birthday? My parents, brother, and close family members always remember. Was it any of your friends birthday in the past week? My older brother’s birthday was a couple days ago. Is anyone else in the same room as you? Nope. Are you one of the popular people in your grade? I’m done with school, but no I was never popular.

“you never call me when you’re sober”

What word best describes you in the dictonary? ”Depressed”, “Awkward”, “Lame”, “Loser”, “Ugly”... Do you like Soy Milk? Yeah, I’m lactose intolerant. I use that or almond milk. I don’t drink any kind of milk by itself, but I use those in stuff like coffee drinks and cereal. And for dunking my cookies and brownies in. Where were you at 10:30am yesterday? Right here in bed where I spent all weekend. I was having a really rough weekend. I felt really shitty and had zero energy. I couldn’t even drag myself outta bed for coffee, so that’s how you know I was feeling really bad. Thankfully, my mom and brother brought me a Starbucks. Do you think ghosts are real? I believe in spirits, but not actual Caspers. Do you know anyone who has been attacked by a shark? No. What is your best friend's mom name? Lupe. Have you ever made out in a movie theatre? No. What part of your body do you wash first? My arms and work my way down. Do you have an innie or an outie? Innie. How do you think the dinosaurs died? An asteroid. What's your favorite flavor of Pringles? Sour cream and onion, cheddar and sour cream, pizza, and ranch.  What was the last thing you got grounded for? Something when I was like 12. Did you go to a water park last summer? I don’t go to the water park ever. What shoe do you put on first? I think the right. Finish the sentence: Girls.. Just wanna have fun.

“I think we’re alone now”

Have you ever had a song or poem written about you? No. Did you have a nickname growing up? My family called my Noodles, ha. When was the last time you played the air guitar? I don’t know. Have you ever biten your toenail? Ew, no. I’m not flexible enough to even do that, but I would never want to so it’s fine. Have you ever been dared to do something that you regretted? No. I didn’t do dares. Favorite website? Tumblr and YouTube. Worst thing that has ever happened to you? Probably the incident that made me a paraplegic at 7 months old. That’s certainly top of the list. Best thing that has happened to you? My doggos are definitely amongst the top. Best friend? My mom. If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? I dye it red and would like to continue to do so. Do you have a wii? It’s my brother’s, but since we live in the same house and I’ve used it, too, I’m gonna say yes.  Most used phrase on IM? I don’t remember, it’s been over a decade since I’ve used IM. Have you ever heard of The Beatles? Of course. Have you ever wanted to give money to a charity? Yes, and I have given to charities.

“Who says you’re not beautiful?”

Would you ever want to have 14 kids? Uh, noooo. I don’t even want one.  Are you wearing any bracelets right now? Nope. Do you have any jewelry that once belonged to an old family member? No. Do you dream every night? I usually do. Give me on of your goals Just taking it day by day. Do you like skinny jeans? Yeah, those are the only jeans I have. Do you ever say stuff that you don’t mean? It happens. Have you ever said "I love you" and not meant it? Yeah, but that was back when I was 16 and felt pressured into saying it back to my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t have those feelings. Ever since then I haven’t thrown those words around lightly. What is your dream guy/girl? A patient, understanding, caring, loving, trustworthy, good sense of humor kind of guy. Do you hate when people overract? I can definitely be one of those people that overreact. And I know I’m overreacting when it’s happening, but I can’t help myself. I sometimes see people in situations where I’m like, ‘omg, they’re totally overreacting’ and think it could be handled differently, but yet I do the same thing. When was the last time you used the oven? It’s been awhile, actually... I don’t remember. Have you ever wanted to be free like a bird? ”And I’m as free as a bird now... and this bird you cannot change.” Are you a worrier? Oh am I ever. Does your house have an attic? Nope. Are you going fishing this weekend? No. I don’t go fishing.

[lo-55]

Revel Ch. 11

Twining Threads                     

 Tori was surprised by the fact that she was being allowed to go back again. Not, this time, to Imperia but to her sister island Soldano. Her mothers home, where she had been named Dogoressa so many years ago.

 It was not quite like Imperia. The island was mostly flat, and some of it was even regularly underwater. The canals had to be traversed with flat bottomed boats, and gondolas. Elegant bridges stretched from one side of the street to another. The houses were painted with brilliant colors over brick and proud signs declared artisans, grocers, and everything in between.

 Tori sat in the back of a water taxi, her legs crossed at the ankles. She was humming happily to herself, dressed in jeans and a loose violet shirt.

 The sun was warm against her skin, and the breeze that came off the canal was cool. Beneath them dolphins swam and fish flashed silver scales in the sunlight.

 “We’re almost there, ma’am,” her drive called over his shoulder. “It’s at the end of the block.”

 “Thank you,” Tori smiled sweetly at him. Madelle and Daria sat on either side of her, also dressed in jeans. Katakuri hadn’t come with them this time. Soldano was not made for men of his stature, but with her siblings gone and her wedding passed, Tori felt like she needed to do this.

 She needed to go to her mothers home.

 The house that she had lived in was not the palace of the doge, it was her families ancestral house. A high stone building painted a bright red and trimmed in white. It looked like all the other houses in the city, if not older. It was one of the oldest houses, but not as old as the First Twelve. Twelve families, who now numbered only at eight. When Soldano had been founded it had been occupied by twelve families, and over the years they had steadily grown smaller and smaller, or spread themselves so thin their names changed.

 The gondola came to a stop beside the house.

 Three men stood outside, in identical suits, with finely trimmed white beards and close cut hair.

 Tori recognized them. They were what was left of her mothers staff. When she had left Soldano to marry the king of Imperia she had left enough money to take care of the place in her absence. It was meant to be given to one of her children, but Tori would live at the palace in Imperia, Gemma was in the East now, and Lucien was gone too. It was all rather sad. Tori stood up and stepped out of the boat.

 “Thank you,” she said sweetly, tipping the man well. It wasn’t like she was short on money. If anything she was just paying the money back.

 “Glad to help. Ma’am. Just give a ring if you need another ride,” he gestured to the snail situated on the front of his gondola, and the number beneath. Tori nodded to him, and he pushed off, the condola floating cheerfully through the water.

 Tori turned away from the water, towards the high house that seemed so much smaller than it was in her memories.

 When she was small, Dolce would take her, and later Lucien, to visit Soldano every summer. It was important to her, that they know Soldano.

     Her waters run through your veins, my love. We are all children of the sea.  

 Tori walked inside.

 The staff, who her father still retained even after the house was all but abandoned, stood in lines on either side of the entry way. They were familiar faces, now aged with the years that had passed.

 Luciano Orseolo, the steward, smiled warmly at her and dipped a half bow to the eldest princess.

 “My lady, it is good to have you here again.”

 “It’s good to be back, Luci,” she forewent protocol and stepped forwards to embrace the man. He was practically her grandfather. Luci stiffened minutely before he patted her on the back.

 “Yes. Do you want to rest for a while?”

 “No, no. I’m fine. In your letter you said you had something for me from my mother. I’d like that, please.”

 “Of course. And, afterwards, the Doge and his council would like to see you as well. I believe you’re familiar with most of them.”

 “Mmmm. Doge Ziani, Councilmen Vivarini, Bellini, and Titiano. Councilwomen Alvise and Tonini. And, the head of the artisans association, is it still Antonio Rizzo?”

 “His daughter, now. Loicia. There’s a new one too, the Foreign Relations Advisor. Arcielda Elena.”

 “I wasn’t aware Soldano had one of those.”

 “All of our isles are usually so isolated, we didn’t need them. We generally only traded amongst each other, and we are all connected by our Chains. But with you married now, to an outsider no less, we’ve been forced to open our borders to the rest of Totto land. I believe the other islands have similar things.”

 “I wasn’t aware,” Tori’s brows furrowed. “Lucien normally handles things like this.”

 “I heard he’s getting married, to some foreign princess. And your sister as well. All of your line is being sent off of Imperia.”

 “Father thinks that, in these turbulent times, we need to have as many allies as we can. We are not a major military power, whatever talents Gemma may have. We have had only each other for centuries now.”

 “Very pretty words, my lady,” Luci said mildly. Which was funny, since she could remember a number of times in her youth when he called politicians silver spooned pissants when he thought Dolce wouldn’t hear. He was very like his younger brother. Tori had no idea why Luci had respected her mother so much.

 “This way.”

 They made their way through the big old house, it’s walls lined with elegant portraits of her ancestors. All of them with sea dark hair, and dancing eyes.

 Her mother was not the first dogaressa in their line. Her great grandmother had been Dogaressa as well through marriage, and traced further back another six generations came one of the first Doge to be elected, after the family had come from Imperia.

 She was Victoria di Imperia, Victory of Imperia, but her mother was Dolce Regina Genova. The Regina were old, as old as the isles themselves. Older, maybe. Even they didn’t have records before the Void Century.

 The thought was enough to make her itch, but Tori reminded herself of Robin. Reminded herself of her own old life. The price of knowledge. She would not be another faust. Her chest tightened with the thought.

 Luci lead her to her mother’s old room.

 It was exactly the way she remembered it. Thick curtains draped across the window, through which canals shone glittering in blue and busy. The four poster bed still had thick pillows that Tori wasn’t even taller than they were long the last time she’d been here. There was a vanity, not that Dolce had ever needed much make up. Even without her ‘blessing’ Tori would have been lovely. Gemma and Lucien were, and Dolce was a beauty in all of her portraits and all of Tori’s memories.

 Luci took her to a small chest that sat just outside the walk in closet.

 “She meant to give these to you on your wedding night,” he admitted, pushing the chest towards her. “I suppose this will have to be soon enough.”

 Tori smiled softly at him and opened the box. Inside were soft silk dressed of all colors, the long drapes that could be changed to size even if she outgrew what her mother expected. There were thick books, a wooden jewelry box encrusted with pearl and shining glass to form a mural, and a long chain attached to a necklace that looked like a simple cylinder with intricate silver twists.

 Tori recognized it for the poisoners tool that it was.

 “She knew,” Tori realized, lifting the necklace out. “She knew Father would break his word. That he wouldn’t give us the chance to say ‘no’.”

 Luci grimaced. “You Father is a… pragmatist.”

 “Luci. If I don’t slap your brother for calling me a bitch to my face, I’m not going to strike you for speaking the truth,” she said bluntly.

 Luci actually smiled at that. “He’s political. It’s not a good thing. Your mother was smart. Dolce would do anything to ensure your happiness. Even if it meant getting rid of your dad. I can’t believe she even kept him around. She was in love with another boy, you know?”

 “She was?” Tori was startled.

 “Oh yes. A sailor boy. You know your mother and the ocean.”

 Tori did.      We are all children of the sea.  

 “Why did she stay with my father then? If she loved another?”

 “Obligation, I assume. And you. She was married with a child on the way, and the sea is nowhere to raise a little      princess    ,” he teased. Luci did something he hadn’t done since she was a girl, and yanked on a stray strand of hair.

 Tori swatted at him with a laugh.

 It was as sad as it was flattering. Her mother loved her so much she would stay with a man she didn’t love, let her true love flee to the deep blue waters without her. She would settle for being a queen, instead of someone who was truly beloved, for the sake of her unborn daughter.

 Tori’s heart fluttered with warmth and affection. She carefully put everything back in the chest to take home, although she suspected she wouldn't need the poison necklace any time soon.

 The Soldano council of elders were legendary in Tori’s mind.

 They were stoic men who stood at her mothers funeral, and cold faced women who smiled with teeth that would as soon sink into a throat. They were all kind smiles and dangerous words and too many agendas and too much power.

 Soldano was a strange type of democracy.

 The elders controlled who was the Doge or the Dogaressa until they died. In Tori’s life there had already been two. Her mother and the current one, who was nowhere to be found when she stepped into the council chambers. They smelled faintly of incense and expensive perfume, and the roasted meat someone had had for lunch. The table was, of all things, a triangle. Tori stood at the door, waiting.

         Councilwoman Alvise, who looked like a grandmother if a grandmother had snake fangs hiding somewhere, smiled at her and stepped away from the table.

 “Victoria, my dear. So good of you to join us.”

 Victoria nodded and smiled and let herself be paraded around the room and reintroduced to everyone, officially. They chattered and smiled at her, like sharks in the water. Waiting for the scent of blood.

 Councilman Titiano complimented her hair, while the other two congratulated her on her wedding, and her legendary husband.

 It was all hollow words but Tori flittered around and laughed at the right places and gave no sign at all that she knew they were after more than just pleasantries.

 The Doge appeared at last.

 He came into the room, a sweep of red and white robes and carefully twisted crown atop his head. Ziani was an old man, and most of his body was made up clothe to hide the near skeletal shape of the rest. His fingers were long and thin when they took Tori and she noted that his eyes, blue, were almost pitched black with his pupils blown wide.

 She wondered if he even saw her as he went through the vague formalities of welcoming her to the chambers and offering her olive leaf tea.

 Tori tried not to gag.

 “That would be lovely, thank you.”

 He clapped twice and small boys descended from absolutely nowhere. Holes in the walls, probably, but she couldn't see them. They ran around, heating water pouring it into cups with the leaves through the strainers and as soon as they were done they were gone. Vanished.

 Tori had never felt less safe.

 Ziani sat her at his right side and took the first drink. The rest of them followed his exampled and the small talk started all over again. How the grandchildren were, the state of the repairs on the Trivera canals, the newest fashions between the women and who thought what of outsiders coming to visit. They stayed largely away from the topic of her husband. She had done her duty, they could not fault her for that. Not when she was Imperian.

 “Oh, Victoria dear,” Councilwoman Alvise said suddenly, as though just remembering something of importance. “We had something to ask you, didn’t we?”

 The men nodded, and Ziani, who was coming into sobriety, sat up straighter. “Yes. yes! Victory!”

 “Ah?”

 “You mother was the last Dogaressa. She had certain relics that were important to the state. Very important, not life or death but symbolically. You understand, don’t you sweet girl?” Ziani patted her hand, making Tori’s skin crawl.

 “...I suppose. I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m afraid.”

 “Symbols of the past, dear Victoria,” Alvise smiled at her again, barely hiding her teeth  behind her lips. “A black lock and a red key. She must have given them to you.”

 Tori stared.

 “She did no. I’ve never seen either of those things. It sounds like a riddle, are you sure they’re real?” she tilted her pretty, empty little head at them, almost knocking her hair out of place.

 Councilman Vivarini did a poor job of pretending not to roll his eyes.

 Alvise’s smile grew strained. “Now Victoria. This is important. We need them.”

 “I’ve told you I’ve never seen either,” which was true. She wasn’t lying, and one of them must have seen her genuine confusion.

 “What a disappointment.” Titiano shook his head. But the conversation went back to meaningless and meaningful pleasantries. Things said between lines that Tori studiously didn’t notice. Threads left out that she did not pick at.

 She escaped as soon as she could, and no one stopped her. She was useless to whatever plan they had in their greedy little raccoon paws.

 Gods, she missed Orso and his vicious bluntness. She missed Katakuri and his quiet honesty.

 She never thought she would be so eager to go back to her husband's side, but here she was trying to figure out how soon she could go without it being suspicious.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 14)

Her eyes had been so wide with wonder and amazement. Nothing compared to the galaxy’s glimmering spray reflected upon the open ocean. With no city lights to dim them and no bustling tourist noise to break the quiet--no rushing cars with loud basses nor honking horns and loud chatter--Azula felt like she was in space.

The water was so crystalline, so pure. The water met the sky on the horizon giving her the illusion that she was floating in a sea of stars, drifting through the cosmos in a rocketship  rather than the ocean in a small sailboat.

“Dad look!” She exclaimed.

“At what?” He asked.

She didn’t know. She just started pointing everywhere, at everything. “Just look daddy!”

Her mother chuckled as she brushed the hair out of a snoring Zuko’s face. Ozai’s lips quirked into an amused half smile.

“Can we go to space, daddy?”

“Why would you want to go to space when you have stars right here?” He gestures to the shimmering world around her.

That was the first time she’d seen phosphorescent fish and plankton. She leaned over the boat’s railing. Ozai quickly came to hold her steady as she dipped her curious fingers into the water.

“Don’t do that, dear. There are sharks in the water.” Ursa cautioned.

But she didn’t see any sharks so she continued trying to catch one of the fish. She only managed to come up with a handful of plankton. She waited until Ursa was asleep to paint a bioluminescent mural upon her brother’s face.

That was her first experience with a boat and an open ocean. That was her first adventure.

.oOo.

Ozai comes home on his birthday, that is probably a gift enough for him but Azula bough him a gift anyhow and pestered Zuko and Katara help her make a cake.

“He doesn’t deserve one.” Zuko had grumbled the whole time.

Azula is inclined to agree, but she has it on the table for him no less. Perhaps he won’t be so angry with her if she does something to make his birthday special.

She sits herself on the couch and waits for the man to come home. Jet plops himself down next to her and drapes his arm over her shoulder. A half an hour goes by and she spends it by leaning her head into his chest and trying to convince herself that it is okay. That she is allowed to love Jet. That she is allowed to have love. That, should she find Sokka, he would understand.  She lets Jet rub circles on her back.

“I’m sure he isn’t angry with you, he’s just going through stuff.” Jet assures.

She lets him think that, that is the source of her unease. It is easier to explain. “I hope that you’re right.” She mumbles. He squeezes her a little tighter.

“How can he stay mad when you made him a whole cake?”

.oOo.

To be frank, Zuko never liked Jet. He never hated the boy, but there was something about him… Maybe it is that he is one of those pretty boys. That is probably it. Zuko never liked the type. Jet is nice enough but he thinks that he is such hot shit. Really the boy is no different than anyone else their age. He has a car. So what? He’s a smooth talker. Great for him. He’s got a good sense of fashion and can do sports. That’s fantastic. Zuko thinks that a person should have more substance than charming looks, material things, and a handful of talents.

He looks to his sister. She’s a pretty girl, she has to be if so many of the boys and a handful of girls flock to her. She’s got talents upon talents and as far as everyone knows, she still has riches. But that’s just the thing, she has more than that; she’s fun to be around, bold and adventurous. Annoying as hell, rather judgmental, and with a pretty solid mean streak. But she means well and she’s mostly a kind girl. At the very least she is able to keep certain comments to herself.

Jet is just a pretty face. He isn’t like Sokka. Sokka who was a complete and unapologetic dork. Sokka who was hilarious, fun, and always had something exaggerated tall tale to tell. He’s spontaneous and rather disorganized. He is energetic. He was all of those things, Zuko reminds himself.

Sokka is nearly her opposite of Azula in everything save for intellect. For as idiotic as he acted sometimes, the boy had brains. This is probably what had drawn Azula to him. Jet is so similar to her, right down to lost parents. That is why Sokka fit her so much better.

He observes the pair cozied up on the couch and his heart seizes. He never thought himself the type to play the protective brother but seeing Jet with his arms around his sister is...something doesn’t sit right. And maybe it is only because he is used to seeing her with Sokka. Maybe it is just that he isn’t used to it. Jet hasn’t done anything bad to her. In fact, he has been supportive. Supportive and much sweeter that Zuko anticipated. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that the boy isn’t right for his sister. He doesn’t say it, partly because he knows Azula. He knows that she is a creature of spite and will stick her tongue right down Jet’s in front of him if he does. She has been waiting for a chance to pay him back for the one time, in middle school, that he had made out with Mai while she was trying to do homework.

But mostly he doesn’t say anything because it is probably good for Azula to begin to move on. Having her cling to Sokka so furiously that she’d be willing to waste her college fun on some fruitless rescue mission...it isn’t healthy. He looks back at the sofa, at Azula who has turned to face Jet and slip her arms around him. This is healthy. This is one step closer to moving on.

“She’ll be fine.” Katara says. “I know that you don’t like him much but he’s not bad.”

“Then why did you break up with him?”

Katara shrugs. “Promise that you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

“He said that he didn’t like turtles.”

“What kind of person doesn’t like turtles!?” Zuko says a little too loudly.

“Have you ever been attacked by a family of snappers?” Jet calls from the couch. “I can show you the scars.”

“That’s how you got those?” Azula asks, trailing her fingers over his right hand and arm.  

“Yup.”

“Not all turtles are like that, Jet!” Zuko tries.

The boy chuckles, “I’m not taking any chances. You wanna go poke around in a snapping turtle nest, be my guest. I’ll be on the other side of the beach.”

Azula snickers and mutters something about protecting him from feral shelled beasts.

“That’s his tragic backstory.” Katara jokes. “Anyways, we just didn’t have much in common, I guess. Pretty cliche, right?”

“A little.” Zuko laughs.

“My point is, he’s a pretty good guy. He’s not much different than the other boys in our school.”

“That’s the problem I think. Sokka was...he was different. And Azula’s different.”

This time Katara laughs. “Yeah I don’t think I’ve met anyone like her before. I haven’t met anyone like you either. Your family is just weird.”

“We live in a lighthouse, what did you expect?” They both chuckle at this.

“That’s why we’re so smart.” Azula calls from the couch.

Zuko tilts his head in confusion.

“Because lighthouses are bright.” Azula explains. “We’re smart because we live in a lighthouse and lighthouses are bright and bright is another word for…”

“Is it rude to break up with someone over an awful joke?” Jet grumbles.

“If I could handle Sokka’s for as long as I did, you can handle mine.”

“Sokka would have loved that joke.” Zuko remarks.

“Sokka would have made that joke.” Katara replies.

The new silence between them is tense. Katara squeezes his hand. “Why do so many things have to remind me of him?”

“Because he’s your brother.” Zuko replies. Again he finds himself peering at Azula, now sitting and swatting Jet with a nearby stack of papers. She is probably the larges pain in the ass he has ever had to live with. But he couldn’t imagine how hollow it would feel to lose her. He thinks of the day that they’d found her, broken and gashed up after being thrown against rocks. He wonders if it had hurt, if she ever thinks about it. She never talks about it. He thinks of her climbing onto the arbor to untangle patio lights. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it if she’d fallen. “You never forget someone who you were that close to.” He hadn’t known Sokka nearly as well as Katara did and it still puts an unpleasant tingle in his belly when he comes across something that triggers the memory.

It is a hollow sort of longing that puts a flutter in his stomach a flutter that reaches his throat and has tears threatening to form. It is a somber yearning as he enters the room he’d last talked with Sokka in, as he visualizes Sokka as he’d last seen him. As he tries to latch onto that memory and make a physical manifestation of it. At the very least he tries to cling to it so that it doesn’t slip. It like being in a room with a phantom. Memories are ghosts.

“You can’t forget.” He repeats. “I don’t think that you want to either. I don’t. Azula doesn’t.”

He hears Katara swallow, but before they can get any further, Ozai opens the door. The man looks as hollow as Katara probably feels when thinking about Sokka. Mostly he is put together, clean shaven--for once--and with his hair neatly styled. But his clothing is wrinkled, his cheeks are sunken, and he has bags under his eyes.

“What’s this?” Ozai grumbles. “I told you that I was coming home from the hospital and you bring guests over?”

Zuko catches Azula visibly swallow and goes tense. Just like that he recalls that their father doesn’t know about Jet yet. Jet who tightens his grip protectively around Azula. And just like that, Zuko’s opinion of him changes rather drastically.

Azula pulls out of his grip.

“Tell them to go home.” Ozai says simply.

“Tell them to go home!?” Zuko gets to his feet. “We did this for--”

Azula holds up a hand. He can tell that her optimism is fading fast. “I thought that it would be a nice surprise to…” she gestures to the cake. “I can’t cook so I asked Katara to help.”

“And him?” Ozai nods to Jet.

She shifts uncomfortably.

Zuko’s stomach nearly gives when Jet opens his mouth. “I’m Jet, I’m on Azula’s surf team, remember?”

“I recall.” Ozai answers stiffly. “But that doesn’t tell me what you are doing here.”

Jets simply slips his arm around Azula’s waist and tugs her closer.

“I want them out, Azula.”

“But, I…”

“Out.” He commands more firmly.

Azula bunches her fists. Zuko knows what she is going to do before Ozai does. He praises her for her wit but, lord he wishes that she wouldn’t.

“Fine.”

.oOo.

The lighthouse door slams. It takes a moment for that Jet boy to react but he hastily follows her out.

Ozai sighs. It is long and drawn, he rubs a hand over his face, feeling thoroughly drained. He looks from the doorway to the birthday cake on the table. It is a nice sentiment, but he is not in a festive mood. She means well, they all mean well, but it might be too soon.

“We made all of this to cheer you up and you make us feel like shit!” Zuko accuses. Zuko seldom raises his voice at him. Much less cusses at him. “You make Azula feel…”

Ozai tries to tune his son out.

“She thinks that you hate her!” Zuko scowls. “You know that right? She was trying to give you a good birthday because she knows that you’re having a hard time.”

Katara links her arm around Zuko and clutches him tightly. Ozai wonders if he is frightening her. He must be. “Zuko, I am your father you will not speak to--”

“No. You aren’t.” Zuko hisses. “Azula and I lost both of our parents that night.”  He turns to his girlfriend. “Come on, lets go find Azula and Jet.”

Katara nods, “I’m worried about her, Zuko.”

Somehow the girl’s comment unsettled him more deeply than anything Zuko had said. With a second slam he is alone in the lighthouse. He finds a seat at the table in front of his birthday cake. There is no one left to eat it with.

Also in front of him is a handmade card. ‘Welcome home, congratulations, and happy birthday, father.’ She hadn’t left anything out and that was only the cover page. He is home, but his birthday isn’t happy and he doesn’t feel like there is anything worth congratulating. It is his own fault.

He’d just gotten clean and he is already ready for his next drink. He opens the fridge and curses Azula for her forethought. She’d gotten rid of all of it. He supposes that he has ingrained tough love into her.

He should probably give her space, let her run off to Katara’s house or Jet’s. But he thinks that this time, if he allows the problem to fester, he will lose her. He will lose both of his children.

He rakes his fingers through his hairline and heads for the door. He reaches it and hesitates. He sits back at the table.

[secretsantasides]

Gift #3

Gift for @do-you-promise​

Prompt:  Intrumas, Cryptid AU. (Note: this is just chapter 1 - more of this story will be posted after the name reveal in January!)

Thomas had never wanted to be a fisherman.

That was it. That was the statement. He had never wanted it and he did not enjoyed it. His whole family was full of them, he always thought that they could spare him and let him get into an adventure, all on his own, making his own choices. Obviously his father had hated that idea.

“All of the Sanders’ men had been Fishermen” He stated, clearly not giving Thomas a way out and shutting his idea down of going anywhere else “It’s the family business, the town needs us to get the fish and the exchanges with the other ports. It’s a honorable job”

He had fought back, saying that it was not the job he was running (even though it was) but that he wanted to create something of his own as his grandparents had done with their business (even though it was definitely not). But his father kept saying no to him. Every plead, every question, even every suggestion, those were shut down.

Never in an aggressive way, never making him feel less, but there was always a no.

So Thomas had taken the job.

  It wasn’t all that bad, he got to spend time with his brother, Logan, every day, and even if he had a home and person to come back and Thomas not, Logan never made him feel bad or less. 

They were almost the same age. Logan just being two years older than him. Logan was taller and slimmer, he used glasses and he combed his hair every single day to go to work. Thomas had always thought that he would choose another job, something other than fisherman, just like him, but he didn’t. Logan was the best his family had seen when in school, their parents even payed for him to go to college and study administration to help with all the numbers and movements of their job, but in the end Logan stood by his side.

When he came back from college and saw Thomas, who had decided that if he was not studying any kind of science, then college was not for him, working in the port with the nets to go fish, he had decided to work with him above the boats. He had given the excuse of wanting to do some “field work” before being confined to a desk, and their parents got as excited as they could have get.

A year and 9 months later, Logan got married to his college boyfriend, Damien Menti, and then they were living together. Logan started to work part time inside the offices and the other time outside in the boats with Thomas and the crew.

Thomas was glad that Logan stood by his side. He knew that Logan hated the boats and the smell of the raw fish, but he still went at least 3 days a week to be a moral support to Thomas. And he was always going to be glad for that.

Thomas was the complete opposite of everything Logan was. Messy, with few aspirations, not much in the school department. Lonely.

His family was great, and he knew that he could always count on them if he needed something. Even Damien had become a essential part of their family, he always tried to help Thomas with whatever he needed, the man even tried to persuade his father to let him get a year of off work, to let him see the world. His father of course hadn’t liked the idea and, as everything, shut it down, but Thomas was glad than at least Logan’s husband hadn’t been bad at all.

That didn’t mean that he was close-close with any other than his brother.

The crew in the boats was another story completely. Thomas barely even talked to them, least of all if he was alone without Logan. They were extended family, sure, uncles, aunts. cousins, but he didn’t know them. Logan wasn’t a social person either, he was probably worse at socializing than he was, but at least he knew what to say and how to make sure that everyone was doing their job as they should.

Someday, when his father retired, Thomas was going to be the one that had to lead the crew. And in that day he only hoped that the earth swallowed him whole and let anyone else do the job that he was going to suck at.

“Thinking about your misery again?” Logan came from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and taking him out of his trance.

The water, the ocean, the blue. Thomas only wished he was watching it on a ship towards adventure, not when he was waiting for the nets to pick some fish.

“I just don’t like this” Thomas hadn’t meant it to sound as a whine, but honestly? he didn’t care right now.

“Does anyone?” Logan smirked at him and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Have I presented you my dad?” Thomas said while straightening up “Fish are beautiful and magnificent beings. We need to be careful with them, even if they’re food and we kill them, they still need to live in their habitat. We’re like their natural prey, maintaining the order in their ecosystem where-”

“Oh God, cut it out!” Logan started laughing and shifting his eyes to the other side of the boat, where their father and one of his uncles where talking about new ways and positions where they could fish “He really enjoys this, doesn’t he?”

“I sometimes think that maybe he was forced to work on this just as us, and then I hear him talking about the powerful ways of the banks of fish, and everything’s back to normal”

Logan chuckled and went to grab a second net from the pile that was thrown in the boat and Thomas turned to see the ocean again. They had been there for almost four hours and only one of the boats had gotten a bunch of fishes.

It was weird, usually the boats caught fish faster than this.

Thomas found himself daydreaming again. Thinking in an adventure when they had to go get back all the fishes, who were kidnapped by and evil shark or something.

Thomas chuckled to himself, 30 years old, fisherman, daydreaming like a kid. Everyone needed some amusement from time to time, right?

“Thomas help me set the net!” Logan shouted.

“Coming!” Thomas yelled back, breathing the smell of salt water and preparing mentally for another 2 hours of waiting to fish something.

And when Thomas turned around, he had to turn back again to face the water. Because he could have swore he saw green tentacles swimming away from the boat.

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

“Why were you on the chore again?”

Remus always thought that Roman had a stick up his ass, all day, and not in the nice way.

He had never liked Remus going near humans. Usually saying things like “they don’t like us” and “many of us had died at their hands”. Remus didn’t say that it was fake, that Roman only said those things to him to scare him from the human world, but he did call bullshit to not even being able to study them.

There had also been a couple of humans that had actually seen Remus and had also run away screaming at his sight (being half octopus usually made people have that reaction). But he didn’t care! He was good, and if he could inflict some terror on a couple of humans, then they wouldn’t dare mess around with him. It was that easy.

Of course Roman didn’t saw it that way.

Mermans and mermaids like him had it worse.

Fishermen usually liked hunting for them as a matter of pride. Showing people the scales of a beast that had escaped their hands, half fish, half human. Remus had listened to some humans talk about it on the late nights that they explored the oceans.

They never got to really caught any of their people, usually they harmed them bad enough to kill them, but magic was on their side. Mermans and mermaids weren’t the most magical beings on the ocean, they were actually considered one of the weakest.

Intelligent? Yes. Strongest? Not so much.

But they still had tricks under their sleeves, and even if humans had had sightings of them, they usually managed to escape. Not always survive, but escape.

So Roman didn’t like Remus getting near them. He knew that Remus could defend himself, his octopus half permitted him more access to magic than to a merman, but he said that it was still dangerous.

“Remus” Roman called him again, when he noticed that Remus wasn’t planning on answering.

“They never see me, Roman” Remus sometimes thought that Roman was just too scared to just grow up and stand their ground “And, even if they did, it’s not something that I can’t handle”

“You don’t know that”

“Oh, only because you don’t know that dear brother doesn’t mean that I don’t know my own capacities” Remus smirked and turn to go to his home.

“I don’t want you dead Remus, is my job to protect everyone under my power”

Roman was not wrong.

Their father had been one of the best kings the ocean had ever seen. He had also been a merman, married to a mermaid. Roman and Remus had born the same day, twins of the ocean, but neither of their parents ever knew why they had had a merman and a cecaelia as their sons. Cecaelias were not usual, their people claimed them to mean destruction and death. So they hid Remus from the public eye, still raising him as his own, but never telling anyone that they had more than one son.

So the throne and palace went to Roman when their parents died, and Remus, who didn’t want to be confined to live on the palace the rest of his life, found a cave and made it his own.

He had been planning on just escaping. He had hated his parents for locking him inside the castle. Not being able to interact with nothing more than the servants that had pled loyalty to the royal family, it had been torture for him. So when they finally died, and he decided to just live on his own, he was ready to turn his back to the place that had never been his home.

But Roman had asked him to not go. They had been close. Granted there had been a couple of years when Remus couldn’t even stand to be near the prodigy son, but with time he understood that it had never been Roman’s fault, and when they were little they used to play all the time together. So he accepted to stay as long as he could live at the outsides of the kingdom.

It was better for everyone after all.

“Good thing that I don’t even live here, your Majesty” Remus said mockingly, before swimming to the kitchen of the palace, ready to escape through one of the back doors.

People that lived in the palace and knew about Remus never really cared about him. They just turn their eyes to the other side when he passed, and, when they thought that Remus wasn’t looking, they made a small pray to Poseidon, to purify them from the evil that was Remus and what he represented.

So Remus was fine going to the chore and look at humans. If humans looked back at him in terror, it was not something that he wasn’t used to by now.

However, he was going back again that night. He liked one specific view that appeared around midnight.

[the-quiet-winds]

Shark’s Tooth Lullaby

“So, it was you.”

“And if it was?”

Aragon’s eyes blazed. “You have some nerve.”

“I’m so scared,” Anne snarks, holding her hands up and rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

“You know what that picture meant to me.”

“You can get another one.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Aragon challenges. “That was the only copy I had. I bought that frame on custom order. It meant something to me.” She scoffs. “Which is something you know nothing about.”

“Don’t you attack me now,” Anne fires back. “I never said that I did anything-”

“You were standing in my room when I came upstairs and found the shattered glass on the carpet, and you expect me to believe you innocent?”

“Whatever you think, it doesn’t give you the right to attack me,” Anne continues, steely and cool.

Aragon huffs, opens her mouth to say more, then, unable to form any more words, turns and leaves Anne standing in the middle of her bedroom, surrounded by broken glass, a frame in three pieces, and a half-ruined picture of herself and Jane.

As soon as she hears the front door close, Anne sighs softly.

“You can come out now, Kitty.”

Out of the closet slips Katherine Howard, tears on her face.

“W-why did you do that?” Katherine whispers. 

Anne steps to her, carefully avoiding the glass littering the carpet, and catches her chin gently between her index and thumb. 

“Because I knew she’d get mad,” Anne says softly, wiping away a stray tear. “And I can handle her getting mad.”

“But it wasn’t your fault-”

“I know. But it wasn’t yours either.”

“But-”

“No more buts,” Anne interjects. She pulls her cousin into a hug. “You just know how important Jane is to Cathy.”

Katherine nods into Anne’s shoulder.

“It’s gonna be alright,” promises Anne. “Just give her a little time to cool down.”

---

Where did you go?

Catherine stares at the text on her phone screen from almost twenty minutes ago. 

Do you want me to come pick you up?

Ten minutes ago.

Anne says she’s sorry for whatever it was.

Four minutes ago.

Please answer.

Jane had been persistent in her messaging, and it’s almost endearing. It comes from care for her best friend. 

But Catherine doesn’t answer.

She needs a moment away.

Instead, she sets her phone down on the bench next to her and folds her hand neatly in her lap, watching as a runner passes by the pathway next to the river.

It’s not cold, per say, but it’s one of those days when you can tell winter is moving towards the door just by the sound of its footsteps.

A breeze crawls across her cheek and she fixes her scarf a little higher across her jawline, and the world is still.

The river is somehow calm and choppy at the same time. The current is smooth, consistent, but the waves hit the bank at a slightly different angle every time.

The odd rhythms it holds begin to soothe Catherine’s mind, as if the gentle laps of the water erodes away the angry limestone formations in the corners of her thoughts.

Well, it’s soothing until her phone buzzes again.

With a barely perceptible groan, she checks the screen.

Another text from Jane.

I’m getting worried.

For a moment, Catherine contemplates not going anywhere. The thought passes her eyes of staying exactly where she is and not moving. Not responding to Jane, not even going to the show tonight. Just sitting on the bench by the river until the night’s frost roots her in place.

That’s not the way to do it.

She gets to her feet and shoves her hands, and phone, in the pockets of her jackets and heads for home.

One step after another, her boots hit the pavement in a clean, easily-followable beat that echoes in the sidewalk and in her head.

Catherine has barely stepped through the front door when Jane is hugging her. 

“I was worried, you never don’t respond,” Jane mumbles into Catherine’s coat. 

Aragon hugs her back. “I just needed to think,” she murmurs. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“Of course!” Jane gasps. “How could I not be concerned?”

Catherine fumbles for words, and Jane shakes her head fondly. “We have to leave for the theater in a few minutes, better get changed.” Just as Jane turns to leave, she turns and presses a soft kiss to Catherine’s cheek. 

Aragon returns the affection automatically, and smiles. “Thank you, Jane,” she says, a little more confident now. 

Jane grins, then turns off in the direction of the stairs.

Catherine follows her a moment later and makes her way to her own room, where a blue-wrapped package was sitting on her bed.

Hesitantly placing her coat next to it, she begins to, against her better judgement, unwrap the unmarked gift.

Tears immediately well in her eyes.

It’s a collage photo frame, with the center piece being Aragon’s favorite photo of herself and Jane. The surrounding four pictures are one each with Boleyn, Cleves, Howard, and Parr.

“I’m sorry about the other one.”

Catherine turns and sees Kat, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway. “I was looking for your rosary… I just wanted to see it, and I knocked over the frame.”

Aragon is breathless, speechless, and unmoving.

Katherine takes it as a bad sign, averting her gaze back to her feet. “I’m really so-”

She’s cut off by arms wrapping tightly around her. She can’t help but to stiffen for a hair of a moment before melting into the embrace, snuggling against Aragon.

“This is so kind of you,” Aragon barely whispers. Katherine leans more heavily into the hold. 

“I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Thank you, Kat.” Catherine turns to press the softest kiss on the girl’s temple. “This means more to me than you could ever know.”

Katherine leans into her affection, hums softly, and closes her eyes.

Are they late to show call because neither of them got ready on time?

Yes.

Do they regret it?

Not in the slightest.

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[paperficwriter]

The Boy and the Seawolf

A Mumarou story for @anonymousedward! In which Mumen (Rider) meets a certain protective sea spirit.

Dirty Paper warning for, well, tentacle sex. There it is. I said it. Cut is for length AND content.

“Stay to the public beaches, my little Mumen. We do not go to the cove.”

The small boy stands with his pail and shovel, staring at where he can see the land dip further in. The waves hit the cliffs surrounding it, but there’s an easy path they could take, either around and down or straight in on the shoreline, when the tide is out. He points this out, because he is a clever boy, and he loves to explore.

His grandmother smiles and strokes his messy brown hair back from the glasses that make his eyes look huge. One day the rest of his face will catch up but for now, his gaze is so painfully earnest that she can’t help but stoop down and kiss his forehead.

“This is not a matter of ‘can we,’ my child. This we ‘should not’ do.”

He wants to know why.

“Because that place belongs to the Seawolf.”

Patiently, the small boy tells his grandmother that wolves don’t live in the sea. He proceeds to explain all the places that wolves do live, until she laughs.

“This is a Seawolf, Mumen. A guardian beast of the ocean. They say that once he was fully a spirit, but when humans began to live near the water, he let the strongest man join with him, become one with him. Even today, it is considered very good fortune if you see one.”

The boy tugs her hand in reply. This only seems to make him more intent to go to the cove, if that is the case (which he still doubts, but…)

“No, Mumen. Now, he rules from there in seclusion. You’ll find no fish we can eat there. Only jellyfish, stingrays and occasionally sharks, all which he uses to deter passersby. Just like you.”

The boy shivers. Jellyfish. It’s the only thing that he is actually afraid of, when he visits her by the shore. Ever since one stung him when he was a toddler, sneaking up on him in the shallows and barely brushing him with its bright red body.

It’s easy enough to convince him to come to the main beach by the boardwalk after that, but he never forgets the cove. He always looks, craning his head around from his bicycle, hoping to catch a glimpse of something; fin, fluke, flipper, or maybe something else.

He doesn’t see anything.

And he doesn’t know that something is looking back at him.

---

“Okay, steady on, you can do this.”

Mumen rode his bike down the shoreline in the dark, the large, sloshing cooler balanced on his handlebars threatening to overturn at every bend. He had thought that if he waited to do this admittedly very silly thing until nightfall, maybe he could avoid getting caught, but tonight there were several clambakes happening on the beach that had attracted the attention of locals and tourists alike. Lights had been strung along the piers, and people were milling around, stargazing, drinking beers.

He had been invited but declined.

“Come on, Mumen! Something like this will cheer you up. Get you out of that house for a while,” his grandmother’s neighbor insisted.

That  house. He liked that house. He had always liked that house, the way it smelled like the ocean even when you had washed it all off, all the blankets and pillows the only things that had been kept smelling like floral laundry detergent, clean of the remnants due to regular washes. “No, thank you,” he replied with a friendly smile. “I still have some work to do.”

Maybe he was doing this errand for her too, now that he thought about it.

When he came up to the cove, he almost turned around. Not because he faintly recalled something that his grandmother had told him about a local cryptid of some kind that lived there, but because huge signs had been erected since he was a child. Dramatic bold lettering screamed at him about riptides and the fact that there were no lifeguards posted past this point, and there were icons of fins and crashing waves.

“Perfect,” he said to himself. All of that meant no one else would be there either.

He rode his bike as far as the boardwalk would take him, and then he dismounted, beginning to walk it into the cove. The temperature dropped significantly, and when he followed the sandy shore further in, along the cliff and into the enclosed area, he was most surprised by the silence of the area, a still quiet that made him feel like he was actually the first person here in a very long time.

Turning on the headlamp of his bike once he was out of sight only confirmed his suspicions. There wasn’t a single sign of another footprint in the sand.

“Okay. Let’s get you guys home.”

Mumen felt a little bad as he dragged the cooler into the shallows, the cold water lapping at his ankle and making him dance a little as he got used to it. He was sure that although the fishmonger was happy enough about all the money he gave him for the twenty-some lobsters, the fishermen and other customers wouldn’t be at all.

But what was he supposed to do? Walk past the tank at the market and leave them there?

He picked up the first one and so, so carefully removed the rubber bands from around its formidable claws. When he put it down he walked a small distance to the right, then did the same thing again. And again. And again. Sweat dripped down his face, and for a second he stopped to slap some of the cold water on his face, licking the salty drops from his lips. Now, his legs and arms were beginning to ache as he dragged the cooler, but dumping all the lobsters out didn’t seem right. What if they were territorial?

When he suddenly heard a substantial splash up ahead of him, Mumen froze. In the yellow light across the surface, cast by the moon and his headlamp, he couldn’t see anything in the inky depths, but he was still only in the water up to his calves. No, not even his calves. More like his upper ankles. So it wasn’t like anything could get at him. Right?

It wasn’t the first time Mumen was wrong, but never, ever this wrong. Never so wrong that he would have dreamt he might suddenly feel powerful limbs wrapping around his legs and pull them out from under him. Even though there was no way he would have seen them in the dark, he couldn’t see past the cloudy sand and water blinding him, rushing up his nose. His glasses...where were his glasses?! Was he going to drown?

And then...hands. Hoisting him up, pulling him from the water, pulling his whole body from the water until he could feel air on his feet.

“What are you doing here?” a cold voice asked.

Mumen tried to respond, or at least to start, but he choked, sputtering out water from his lungs and onto his chest. He tried to scrub at his eyes, to clear the salt out of them.

“You shouldn’t be here!”

“I’m sorry! I was...was…” Another mouthful of water from his burning throat. He had been taken by surprise, and he didn’t even realize he had breathed so much in…

“Taking things that don’t belong to you!” It sounded so angry, insistent, and he was shook a bit. Now, he could see clearer, and Mumen could make out a pale face, light hair - white? Silver? - and bared teeth.

“No! I was putting them back!” He held up his wrist, where he had been placing all the rubber bands. “See?!”

At that, he was dropped back into the water. It wasn’t much deeper here, so he winced when his butt hit the sandy bottom. His hand hit something sharp, and when he touched it, he could feel where the skin had torn. The salty sting confirmed he was bleeding, but when he stood up to try to get out of the water, there was still...something...around his legs. “Help! I’m stuck!”

“You just wait!” The voice was farther away now, back near the shallows, and Mumen could hear him muttering as he searched around and picked up one of the lobsters. Now, he could just see him - or his back at least - muscular and bright, reflecting the light like metal. He could only make him out from the waist up, though; he was clearly kneeling in the water…

When he turned his face back around, Mumen gasped softly. Was this what people meant when they talked about someone or something being terrifyingly beautiful? Because the man was definitely still angry, full of fury, but also...Mumen had never seen someone so gorgeous in his life. “Who are you?” he asked, and the...things...that were around his legs moved away. “I’m...my name is Mumen.”

“Garou,” the man replied, approaching him again. All of his hair was that bright silver, and Mumen wondered what it would look like dry. Maybe white? What color were his eyes? It wasn’t light enough to tell. “You’re not supposed to be here. Nobody is supposed to be here.”

“I...didn’t want to get caught on the beach.” Something rough brushed his thigh, and Mumen jumped. “What was that?!”

Garou said something quietly again, and this time Mumen thought it clear he was not talking to him. He did directly answer him with a grin that made him shudder. “I brought some of my brothers to handle you, if you gave me trouble.” A straight fin broke the surface, coming just close enough for Mumen to see striped patterns along the back of the large body.

“You were going to get a shark to eat me?!” Mumen was entering into a realm of hysterics, waving his hands. “Are you insane?!”

The other man chuckled and came closer, grabbing his hand from the air. “I love how the thought I could get a shark to attack you on command is somehow harder to believe than everything else happening. Including that I could will it not to eat you.” Mumen tried to tug his hand away. “Let me see.”

“It hurts.”

“Yes, it’s bleeding.” Garou said it like Mumen must be stupid. He stared down at his hand in the water, stroking his fingers over the cut. “I’m not doing this because it hurts. You’re making them uncomfortable.”

One of the sharks caused a splash as it came by, circling them. Yes, this was definitely several sharks, because this one was more reddish. And bigger. “Yeah, I know the feeling!”

“They won’t hurt you. I’ve told them not to.” Garou brought one of his own fingers to his lips and bit down until a drop of what Mumen assumed was blood began to seep from the spot. He had to assume, because it was a dark purple, like ink. Garou started to rub it into the wound.

“Ow! And ew! That’s...there are so many things wrong with this!” Things that included someone who could supposedly talk to sharks, and who looked human but certainly didn’t act like it, and who was now putting his mouth directly onto the cut, sucking at it, mingling their blood together.

A jolt of something rather lewd travelled down his body, and he stared at his thin lips until he asked, “Why did you come back here?”

Mumen blinked. Did he know him? Did they know each other? “What do you mean? How did you--”

“You used to come close to the cove, on that...thing you ride on.” Garou nodded at the bike. “It always looked like you were going to approach, but then you would go. Every year. And then...you stopped.”

“I…” Why was he blushing? Why did he feel so put on the spot. “I used to visit my grandmother. She lived at the house on the hill, overlooking the lighthouse.”

“Why did you come back here?” Garou was glaring at him, still rubbing insistently at the mark between mouthing it. It hurt less now, which also made it feel more scandalous when Garou licked it. “I like when humans leave. I like when there are less of you.”

“Yeah, well, it evens out, because she died, okay?”

As Garou’s fingers stilled, Mumen felt a little sick. It was the first time that he had come out and said that, to anyone. Most people here at the shore knew, so they would offer apologies. And anyone else, he would say that he had a family emergency. Why? Why not just say it? Clearly this was why.

“I’m sorry.” Mumen glanced up at Garou, at his face. It hadn’t exactly gotten softer, but he didn’t seem as angry, as seemingly put out by all this. “I haven’t been here long, so far as my people go, but...she always believed in us.”

“You knew her?”

“I had seen her. And heard the stories she told. She told you too, I know.”

Seawolf. It came back to him suddenly. “Even I couldn’t remember that...how do you?”

Garou let go of him. When Mumen took his hand out of the water, he could just see a pale pink line across a third of him palm, but other than that, there was no sign of the cut. “My memory is much better than yours,” he said, smirking.

“Hey, you there!”

Both of them looked up the shoreline when they heard the voices calling out from the sand. Flashlights were bouncing back and forth, held by a pair of what Mumen thought were probably cops. Before he could think to reply, Garou shot forward to the shallows, taking out the last few lobsters. “Help me with them!” he hissed in the dark, and they both scrambled to remove the rest of the rubber bands.

“Out of the water!” one of the two yelled, and there was a sound of sand being kicked as they ran closer. Garou reached down into the water and emerged with something small in his hand. He threw it, and the light on the bike shattered.

“Hey! That was mine! What are you--” Garou grabbed him up in his arms, and Mumen felt his cheeks going red yet again. His chest was so firm, so secure, but at his waist, it was very, very different. Like the flesh changed there...

“Take a deep breath.”

“What--” He barely got in even a small breath before they were under the water again. Suddenly, they weren’t simply floating but shooting through the current in the dark. It was so fast, so full of bubbles and rushing water that Mumen couldn’t even tell what direction they were going in. It reminded him of being in a slide at a water park.

<Hold onto me.>

He did. He did, even in spite of how he was pretty sure he was losing his mind, because Garou’s voice was in his mind. In fact, he was clawing at his torso now, because he needed to breathe. It had been only a few seconds probably, but his lungs were aching. Where was the surface?! Where were they?! How far...how deep...how...

<Mumen!>

It was too much. As the water invaded his nostrils, filling up his chest, everything around them went bright white with pain, then finally hazy and dark.

---

And then...he was waking up. Something was touching his mouth, pressing against it, and there wasn’t a good opportunity to really know what it was before what felt like a pint of water shot up his nose and mouth.

He opened his eyes though, and...Garou. He was hovering over him. It was lighter around them, shimmering like the inside of an aquarium. His eyes were gold. How would he ever have guessed?

Sitting up to cough, he said, “You saved me…”

“Technically I drowned you first, but...sure. Also, I think these belong to you.” Garou handed Mumen his glasses, and he breathed a sigh of relief. When he put them back on, Garou smiled a little, his eyes no longer as severe as they were in the surf, and Mumen had a chance to look around.

They were in a cave, now, like an underground shore. The ground was a mosaic of turquoise and sapphire stones, and the sand was the softest Mumen had ever felt. “Where are we?”

“Under the cove. I had to swim pretty far down to get to the cave. I'm glad you just breathed in a mouthful of water and didn't get all weird with the pressure.” He trailed off when he noticed Mumen staring below his waist. “What?”

From about an inch below his belly and down, Garou… wasn't human. He was deep, rich purple and black, slightly opalescent, and where there should have been legs were…

Tentacles. Eight of them. Long and spread out across the ground but powerful, not limp like he had seen octopi at the market when they were left on the ice to stay fresh. In fact, as he watched him there, Garou straightened and sort of sat on top of them.

Suddenly, he remembered the feeling of being held in the water, like something was surrounding his legs and…

“Oh my God.”

“I know, I’m a vision to behold. You may bask in my might.”

Then, Mumen noticed something more immediate to be concerned about. “Oh my God! I’m naked! What did you do with my clothes?!”

Garou made a light ‘tch’ and gestured at a large rock behind them where the clothes were spread across it. “Even I know that if humans sit around in soaked clothing they’ll get sick.” He said it like he was surprised Mumen hadn’t come to this very logical outcome as well.

Doing his best to cover himself, Mumen closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. Why was he taking this so easily? Why wasn’t he more afraid? Why did it seem like Garou wasn’t going to actually hurt him? What was --

“Stop thinking so hard.” Mumen opened his eyes and jerked when he saw Garou right in front of him. “And so loudly. Obviously you need a distraction from your grief, and I am grateful for the way you saved my people. What more do you need?”

“How did you know --” Garou was coming closer, and his tentacles were wrapping lazily around his legs. He didn’t pull away, only breathed a little harder as they moved up a bit, around his calves, leaving neat little round sucker marks behind them.

“We’re bound now. By blood.” He held up the tiny prick on his finger, then pointed at Mumen’s hand. “I could tell that you were truly a hero - well, the little ones told me that too - and it let me talk to you too. Should have maybe mentioned that before the whole trying-to-breathe-water situation.”

Mumen stared up into his gold eyes for a moment, then down at the tentacles. They had stopped just above his knees. “Can I...touch them?”

“No,” Garou said sarcastically, then rolled his eyes. “Of course you can.”

“You’re really sarcastic for a...spirit of the sea or whatever.”

“I’m part human, too. And I watch the humans, listen to them on their boats. You learn a lot when people can just say whatever they want.” One of the tentacles moved up, curling into Mumen’s palm. He wasn’t sure why, but Mumen thought it would be rough or scaly, but it was surprisingly soft, the purple flesh almost plush in a slick way. He immediately thought of putting his hands on rays in touch tanks as a child.

“You’re not gonna, like...lay eggs in me, are you?”

Garou blinked slowly, like this was honestly the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. “That’s not how any of this works.”

Mumen licked his lips. He wasn’t unaffected by the feeling of the soft arms surrounding him so close to his groin, no matter how nervous he still was. “And you’re not going to eat me afterward? Or!” he quickly added, “Feed me to sharks! Or anything else!”

Garou kissed him then, instead. He thought his mouth might taste like ocean water or the shore, but it just mingled with his, warm and wet and hot. He didn’t waste any time adding his tongue in, long and rubbing, touching his teeth, the top of his mouth, everywhere he could get to. Garou pulled him forward and laid him down on the ground.

When Mumen opened his eyes again, it looked like Garou was hovering over him. Mumen went to put his arms around him but quickly found that he couldn’t, his whole body covered with flexing, exploring tentacles. They squeezed his arms, his middle, and around his waist and legs, like he was something to take apart and put back together.

“Take a breath,” Garou laughed softly, his hands cupping his cheeks. “If I wanted to do something to you, I wouldn’t have protected you or brought you back here.”

“I’m not afraid.” It was only a half-lie, because what he meant was that he wasn’t as afraid as he was turned on. One of the tentacles moved to play with his nipple, and Mumen dropped his head back, moaning.

“Hmm, interesting…” The tips of two purple arms moved to flick and toy with his chest, and Mumen squirmed. He felt like some kind of animal caught in a trap, unable to escape, and under any other circumstance that would terrify him. But here? Now?

“Ahh!” Mumen glanced down to see one of the limbs wrap around his cock, rubbing it up and down. “Oh god, oh god…”

“How do humans handle having a tentacle so small and...not dextrous at all?” A tendril flicked under the curve of his head, and Mumen could swear he saw stars. When Garou licked his face, Mumen realized then how warm his cheeks had grown. “It’s just hard and-- oh!”

He came suddenly, spurting, the strange otherness of having a tentacle being what was squeezing him too arousing to actually hold back. White drops of fluid stood out against the dark of Garou’s lower body, and he smiled, licking his lips. “I can taste it, you know,” he shared, kissing him again, hard and deep, making a vibrating noise through it as he shifted, sitting Mumen up, arms over his head to stretch him.

“Where is your…?”

Garou slipped one of his tentacles past his lips and onto his tongue, sliding it in and out between his front teeth and the top of his throat. Mumen shuddered, letting out a muted, muffled moan against it. “See? I can use mine for many things. Yours, you either use it or…” Mumen sucked hard as Garou once again gave it a squeeze. “You just take what you get, huh?”

“Mmm…”

“I think you like that, though. Well, I kind of know you do.”

Mumen flushed at that. If he had had any idea that Garou taking care of his hand would lead to him having such a firm idea of his proclivities, he might have reconsidered letting him. But this was so good...so good…

Garou delved a bit deeper into his throat, and Mumen tried to relax. He squirmed in his hold, feeling the tentacles tighten and touch all over him, stroking even at places like his armpits, his navel, the small of his back...places Mumen never thought would make him light up with arousal and yet somehow managed to do so.

He nearly choked when a particularly curious tip found the line of nerves running from his hole to his cock. “Aha! That's an interesting spot...you reacted strongly to that…” Garou did it again, slower, dragging the textured flesh across his taint.

“Mm!!” Mumen's chest heaved, eyes watering slightly from the way Garou's cock was pressing now in his throat.

“I didn't realize how tight it would be in there,” Garou murmured, pressing his torso in close, his fingers touching either side of the line of his neck. Mumen could feel his digits around his tentacle cock, curious, interested...and it should have been frightening. It should have made him panic, but…

All he wanted was to make him come. To even them up so maybe - maybe - Garou would be more of a mess like he was.

But the moment he considered that, Garou looked at him, amusement in his gaze. Although his cheeks were rosy, a shudder running through him, he straightened a little. “Do you really want to challenge me in stamina, little human?”

Okay. Mumen could work with someone who took a challenge like that.

Although he did not have the use of his hands to add to it, Mumen set to the task of sucking on Garou with even more vigor. After all, he didn't taste fishy or odd; really it was the texture that was the oddest. Smooth and slightly slippery, the suckers at the end small enough that he could slip his tongue in a circle around them without getting them stuck.

“Mmm...fuck…” Garou's curses sounded alien, like he was trying them out for the first time. Bolder than a child but less confident than someone who had said such words for years. “Mumen…”

“Mmmph…” Tipping his head forward, he let more of Garou in his throat again, having gotten used to it.

“I...I...ah!” Garou came suddenly, and, sure, Mumen hadn't exactly been with many men (mostly having only experimented with his childhood friend Saitama when they went to the same University together) but this was not at all how it was before. Garou came not only forcefully but plentifully and although Mumen swallowed as much as he could, quite a bit of the fluid messily fell down his face and chest.

He coughed, and immediately Garou pulled back, and for a moment, though they remained around him, the tentacles felt more like...a full-bodied hug than the sexual adventure it had been only a moment before. Garou licked up the remaining mess, kissing Mumen again. “You are very, very good at that…” he said in a throaty voice that was more growl than purr.

“Thanks,” Mumen croaked, clearing his throat as much as he could. Then, he watched as Garou lifted his hands and cupped them in front of his face, water magically gathering there. It was the crispest, coolest drink that he had ever had. Or was it because it followed the strangest thing he had ever put in his mouth? He wasn’t sure.

Garou attacked him with his mouth again, a mouth that was human in all the right ways, with soft lips and just-sharp-enough teeth. He bit and pulled at Mumen’s bottom lip, and when Mumen gasped and opened his eyes - they were closed so much of the time, trying to surround himself in the surreal, carnal dance he was taking place in, letting his nerves and flesh do the looking - he saw those slits of gold: a little mischievous, intrigued, and full of lust.

“Fuck me,” Mumen pled. “Please fuck me...Garou…”

“Is that what you want, human? Already?” He panted the words, just far enough from contact with him to reply. Long nails rake down his sides, toy with his ass.

There’s that tentacle again, rubbing, pressing. It’s like he’s riding on it, and then -- “Ah!” He wasn’t sure how he could describe the sensation. It was sort of like a shock? A vibrating shiver? “What...what was that?”

“It’s how I feel where I am through the water. I send it out, it bounces back, I can see what’s even in the darkest depths.”

“E- ahh, echolocation?” Garou did it again, and he could feel it travel all the way up to the tip of him. He struggled a bit in Garou’s arms, but the seawolf seemed more than intent to have his way.

“Whatever you want to call it.” Garou was tonguing his chest in broad strokes, probably to lick up the thin, viscous spunk that had dripped there. “Your body tastes amazing, by the way...gods, I’ve had a lot of humans but…” Garou laughed when Mumen pouted behind his glasses. “I was just kidding!”

“Do you bring many here?” he asked, seriously, then added, not wanting to ruin the moment or make Garou back off. “Because...I couldn’t blame them. You’re beautiful and amazing and...and...I’ve never been with anyone like you.”

Garou seemed amused by his confession more than anything, his hands going down to grab his waist and pull him in, rubbing him against what would have been his crotch. Mumen moaned at the soft flesh against his hard, sensitive cock. “No, no I do not. Most people heed the warnings, you know. Read the signs. Stay away from beasts like me.”

“You’re - mm, right there, yes, please - you’re not a beast. You’re…” Mumen trailed off, because he didn’t actually know what to say, as much as he wanted to say something. So he didn’t say anything; instead, he pulled out of Garou’s limbs, a cacophony of suckers popping following the movement, and initiated his own kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck and climbing more firmly into his lap. “You’re something I like, and that can’t be but so beastly.”

Smiling, Garou held him close, shaking his head as the tentacles that had been on his biceps and wrists took more to his legs, spreading them. “Something you like,” he purred in his ear. “I’ll take that.”

Mumen let out a deep, loud moan as Garou’s still-slick cock slipped into and around his hole. It wasn’t a definitive thrust to enter, but rather a feel, as though it were getting its bearings. It curled around and made that same, intense vibration, and Mumen sank his fingertips into Garou’s shoulders. “Oh God…”

“I like how warm you are inside,” he whispered, and another jolt made him clench. “It’s a challenge making room for myself...don’t worry, I won’t go too far.” He chuckled. “Just enough that you’ll like it.”

“Garou...fuck, Garou…” He nosed under his ear, sucking on the pale flesh there, the muscles. “Please...harder…”

He entered in more, still worming his way in, and just when Mumen thought he would stop, he hit the deepest end of him, nearly making him scream when he sent another wave into it.

“There...that’s what I want.” Garou pulled him back by the hair, devouring his face, sucking on his tongue in a way that made Mumen’s toes curl. When he did the same thrust and shock once more, he tried to bring his legs together with a whine. “Mumen…”

“I...I’m not going to be able to hold out!”

“I think you can.” Every time his canines scraped his chin, Mumen thought he might faint. “I want you to come with me. Don’t you?”

It was embarrassing how he whimpered. “Depends on how long you can go…” He gasped as the tentacles shifted for another angle that Garou pummeled vigorously, making it apparent that whether he said five minutes or five hours really wasn’t going to matter. “I-if I come, will you keep going?” he huffed out with each movement.

“Obviously!” Garou grinned, looking much more wolfish. His hair had started drying more, and it stuck up in two ‘ears.’ God, that was cute. He was so interesting…

Garou kept pumping, and when Mumen came again, it didn’t matter that it technically hadn’t been that long because he milked him with bump after bump on his prostate, twisting and making it throb. His orgasm made it so his whole body shook and jerked, dripping onto the blue stone floor.

He figured maybe that the way he went rigid would urge Garou with him, to join him.

It didn’t.

“Ooh…” Mumen moaned, suddenly so sensitive and aching that he got a little teary-eyed from it. “G-Garou...please…”

“Please?” Garou laughed. “Again?”

It was a bit like blacking out, then, because Garou picked up his pace, so fast and hard that the sounds of it echoed in the cave. The seawolf grabbed him up with his entire body, squeezing him, leaving circular bruises all over as he spilled out again, the hot mess leaking between and down his legs.

Mumen twitched, coming dry, and when it finally eased off like a fire being put out, he was in the water, being touched with such tenderness that he thought he might melt into it, float like seafoam that would fall apart once the moment ended. Garou’s voice was soft in his ear. “Okay?”

He opened up an eye and smirked. “We’re bonded, right? You tell me.”

Garou grinned and tugged him against his chest.

---

After that, there was only one person who could get him to leave the house, the one he moved into the next week.

And it wasn’t any of the neighbors.