#though instead of sealing himself away in his own house for years he simply engaged with others less & less and preferred to be on his own.

[luvuomi]

🤍 ꒱ “and the trees were happy…”

─── yuzuha + sethomi but make it omori angst

(🖋️ ) additional note: omori manga had me hyper fixating so bad i decided to cook something small real quick LMAO. of course it’s nothing as soul crushing as the inspiration source itself but it’s still a tad bit angsty ( like a smidge really ). there are also some special mentions of certain individuals as well~ they’ll know when they see hehe

it's been several years since he last set foot on these grounds -- years since he felt a cool wind brush past his cheeks amidst this blazing summer heat while the lush grass below softens his every step. shadows are casted upon the ground from the countless trees standing about, looming over to shroud him in all their grandness that strangely felt like a homecoming. they seemed a lot happier back then… kazuha thinks.

in the distance, a weeping willow comes into view.

at the foot of the tree, he catches a glimpse of something from times bygone. he first sees himself, sat upon a picnic blanket with his friends kunikuzushi and lyney, accompanied by their respective lovers. they all appear to be gathered for a picnic. several delicious foods and pastries scattered about the blanket whilst they all happily conversed about one thing or another.

and then, he sees her. sitting beside him with a hand placed over his as she laughs at something kunikuzushi's lover had remarked about him. her laughter devoid of any sound, and leaving him with only the sight of her smiling face to witness. how he'd long to hear such a melodious laughter once again.

but, there is another as well--one who's figure appears to him as nothing but a blur on the opposite side of her. though, such a sight almost feels intentional. like he'd made sure to forget the appearance of that person a long time ago.

just as quickly as the memory came however, it faded away the closer he drew near.

the carefree individuals disappear into thin air and the red gingham blanket becomes replaced with the sight of a gravestone that has a potted flower placed before it: a lily of the valley. and sitting before that, the mysterious figure from his fragmented memories. except this time, he becomes more visible in kazuha's line of sight.

at the sound of approaching footsteps, the person turns his head around, glancing over his shoulders. upon meeting kazuha's gaze, he doesn't say anything for a moment. merely staring at him with verdant eyes that seemed to have lost their light. like he'd suddenly lost any remaining hope he had left for this world. "for a moment i thought i was seeing a ghost…but it really is you."

[shijiujun]

“you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right” au for moshang plz sqh singing modern songs that mbj doesn't know and being hella confused 🥺

Featuring karaoke-loving Shang Qinghua who gets a bit too drunk at a Cang Qiong mountain gathering, and he goes all out. 

Or when Mobei Jun wonders why Shang Qinghua is singing about another man called Liang Shan Bo.

---

Sometimes, he thinks about his old life before he ever had the misfortune of landing in a world of his own creation, with an annoying gaming AI system of sorts hounding his every move (in the beginning) or turning up at the most inopportune times just when he thinks it’s finally gone and left him alone (more recently). 

Shang Qinghua remembers not having many friends when he was still Shang Qinghua, when ‘向天打飞机 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ was still merely his writing Weibo account moniker and when he had millions of people looking up to him for his crucial contributions in writing this amazing story about his son Luo Binghe and the way he overcame all odds to become a success with a harem of gorgeous women at his feet (damn you, Peerless Cucumber bro!).

Back in those days, he lived off cup noodles and instant coffee. If he didn’t have to leave the house, Shang Qinghua would simply curl up in front of his laptop, either writing for his novel or watching shows (clears his throat) - actual shows! Chinese period dramas were his favourite, where a skilled and intelligent consort in the harem would outwit all the other women to be with her one true love, the Emperor, who falls irrevocably in love with her.

And when he got bored, he switched from the laptop to his television to engage in his second most favourite hobby - Chinese karaoke. Going out to a karaoke bar would require some level of socializing, and also a few friends so he gets more bang out of his buck from what he pays for the room, but at home? 

With advanced technology and a tiny ass microphone in either shining gold or silver, Shang Qinghua’s home entertainment system was his very own personal karaoke room, His tiny mic even had that echo-y effect on.

Shang Qinghua has a thing for classic Chinese songs - ‘The New Butterfly Dream’, ‘Liang Shan Bo and Juliet’, The Moon Represents My Heart‘ - and contemporary karaoke must-haves, like Wang Fei. For an embarrassing few days, the Chinese version of Baby Shark was a veritable earworm as well.

After transmigrating into his own story set in ancient times, where he lives without technology, Shang Qinghua would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the Internet. Laptops would be incredibly handy, and so would switches for lights, definitely indoor plumbing for toilets, and induction stoves. Phones too, that would be nice, rather than having to ‘send word’ with letters. 

Of course, there is no karaoke bar or machine for him.

Not all is bad though. At least he transmigrated to Shang Qinghua in this world as a baby, so it’s not as if he was surviving on Internet and technology one day and left to do everything manually the next day since someone was always taking care of him. Peerless Cucumber bro, of course, wasn’t as lucky, but the man has definitely taken to this world (and his son!!) like a fish to water.

And as for himself, Shang Qinghua does not need to envy Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe either, because somehow, he has gotten the man of his dreams too, even if said man was a little cruel and rude to him in the beginning.

He has the love of his life (coughs coughs) and they’re stuck in this world for the rest of his life. What more is there to want? Not to mention how his cup of instant noodles betrayed him at the last moment, resulting in his death! It is slightly safer, ironically, to be in this world instead.

All is good except... well...

===

Shen Qingqiu marvels at the sight before him, torn between wanting to step in to stop Shang Qinghua, or watch this farce unfold. 

He sometimes forgets where he, or where Shang Qinghua, who has been in this world longer than he, came from. They don’t always talk about the past when they meet, and aside from the occasional meetups, Shen Yuan is a part of him that doesn’t surface, not when he is with Luo Binghe. 

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, grew up here, and aside from referring to Shen Qingqiu by his Weibo account name, he seems otherwise well-adjusted, no hint of modern online writer Shang Qinghua in sight. It doesn’t feel as if he misses their original world either.

This evening, however, memories of modern times slap him in the face, quite literally.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe calls, frantic, tugging him back into his embrace out of Shang Qinghua’s way. Once Shen Qingqiu is safe in his arms, his eyes narrow at the bumbling, drunk idiot causing a scene in the dinner hall, “Shang Qinghua...”

Shang Qinghua stops where he is, and then before any one can stop him, he picks up a pair of chopsticks, brings it to his mouth, and begins bellowing his way through-

-Jay Chou’s Hair Like Snow.

“Shizun, are you alright?” Luo Binghe fusses, his hands coming up to cup Shen Qingqiu’s face when his Shizun doesn’t so much as respond to him. “Were you hurt? Did he hurt you? How’re you feeling? We’ll go back home now-”

“What is he singing?” Qi Qingqi frowns in disgust.

They all wince when Shang Qinghua attempts to hit a high note, but fails miserably.

Fuck me, Shen Qingqiu thinks, his eyes impossibly wide, who knew Airplane bro was such a karaoke fanatic?

“... maybe he is possessed by a malevolent spirit? Or perhaps this is an unidentified curse?” asks Ming Fan. 

“Or is this some new form of cultivation?” asks Ning Yingying, curious.

Yue Qingyuan, seated at the front of the dining hall, cannot help but be concerned for him as well. “Shall we call Mu-shidi to take a look at him-”

They’ve gathered for their annual meeting - a condition that Yue Qingyuan has set in place a few years ago after Luo Binghe ‘stole’ (married!) him away from Cang Qiong Peak - and although Shang Qinghua said he didn’t mind that Mobei Jun was unable to accompany him today, he spent most of the dinner drinking alcohol while in a melancholic state instead.

Who knew that Shang Qinghua was a singing drunk?!

Hence their current predicament.

At the Sect Master’s words, Shang Qinghua suddenly turns around and looks at Shen Qingqiu. HIccuping twice, he then beams, “Cucumber-”

Shen Qingqiu has never moved that fast in his life. Within a fraction of a second, he has his hand pressed over Shang Qinghua’s mouth, holding onto him from the back.

“Cucumber?” everyone choruses in confusion.

“I believe your Shang-shishu has had a little too much to drink,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, nodding at everyone else. “We should... send him back to Mobei. Isn’t that right, Binghe?”

His disciple, his husband, still has on an affronted, murderous look for how Shang Qinghua almost brained Shen Qingqiu with his flailing arms in his drunken fit. The moment Shen Qingqiu asks, however, his expression morphs into something so soft and full of love that everyone who sees it chokes.

“Of course,” Luo Binghe smiles, devotion apparent in his eyes. “Anything Shizun wants.”

===

The words that are tumbling out of Shang Qinghua’s mouth are entirely incomprehensible, and so are the tunes he’s humming into his ear.

Mobei Jun thought he had gotten used to Shang Qinghua’s eccentric mannerisms, and also thought he knew everything about his husband, so many years later. Shang Qinghua is mumbling Chinese alright, but none of the characters put together make any sense.

Who is Liang Shan Bo? And who the hell is Juliet?!

His mood taking a turn for the worse, Mobei Jun hoists Shang Qinghua up further on his back.

After getting so drunk, the idiot had the gall to demand for a piggy-back from the throne room to their bedroom. Mobei Jun has never once suffered such indignity in his years of living. A bridal carry? Of course, anytime. A piggy-back? As if he was some beast to be tamed? 

Well this definitely has to be a first.

While he was stewing in his thoughts, Shang Qinghua switches from that song to another one, and a stream of ‘du du du lu du lu’ emerges from his lips... AND something about... a sha yu? What the hell is that?!

Shang Qinghua lazily lifts his right hand as they approach their room, balls it into a fist and puts it to his mouth, as if he’s holding something, and whatever monstrosity Shang Qinghua is singing, his voice gets even louder.

Mobei Jun tosses Shang Qinghua off his back unceremoniously and onto the soft bed. Interrupted, Shang Qinghua blinks, his vision blurry, and is about to catch his breath and start singing again when his husband climbs in after him. Trapping Shang Qinghua with his entire weight, Mobei Jun seals his lips with a kiss.

“... My king...” Shang Qinghua murmurs in a daze, when Mobei Jun pulls back a few minutes later, his breaths coming out as short, harsh pants. “My king...”

“That’s right,” he says with a glower. “I’m your Da Wang, your husband.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t know who Liang Shan Bo is, but he’s going to make sure no other man’s name ever leaves Shang Qinghua’s lips again when they’re together.

And when his husband finally sobers up, he’s going to have a lot to answer for.

---

Songs Mentioned (YouTube Links in Comments):

The New Butterfly Dream 新鸳鸯蝴蝶梦 － A Chinese classic, sung by Huang An but done beautifully by legendary god of singing Fei Yu Qing and singing partner for the song A Yun Ga

Liang Shan Bo and Juliet 梁山伯与朱丽叶 － A Taiwanese contemporary classic of sorts by Genie Zhuo, most Chinese millennials would definitely have sang this at a karaoke once in their lives - Song is inspired by Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet to some extent - They both die in the end and become butterflies, so they’re also called the Butterfly Lovers.

The Moon Represents My Heart 月亮代表我的心 － ANOTHER CLASSIC CLASSIC!!!

Baby Shark (Chi. Ver) － ˆThe baby shark hype did move to China, and it’s pretty hilarious LMAO and in Chinese, shark is 鲨鱼 (sha yu) but I’m assuming that in this world, there isn’t a shark kind of animal of sorts? So Mobei Jun and everyone else except SQQ wouldn’t know what a shark is or looks like?!

Hair Like Snow 发如雪 － By Jay Chou, another classic that all Chinese millennials would have sang in a karaoke bar 

Wang Fei 王妃 － Jam Hsiao’s version is known best, and it’s pretty epic, not that anyone can reach any of the high notes in the chorus, but does that stop us from trying?!! Hell no!!!

---

Notes: My first Moshang?!! That didn’t really have a lot of Moshang time?! But thanks anon, hope this sort of works?!

[hualianff]

Mi Amor(tentia)

A Window To The Past – John Williams

Harry Potter AU. In his final year at Hogwarts, headboy and Hufflepuff quidditch team captain XL is caught up in a scandal where he performed magic in front of muggles to protect them from dangerous, dark sorcerers who had escaped Azkaban.

After the crucial incident ends with minor injuries to the muggles and XL’s miraculous defeat of all five dark wizards–though only one of them was successfully captured–the ministry expels him from Hogwarts due to his hasty and rash decision to duel without calling for backup, exposing hundreds of muggles to magic. The normalization of advanced technology had led to an alarming spread of awareness of the wizarding world. A messy clean-up indeed.

XL’s family’s name was dragged through the mud, the once appraised pure-blooded lineage honored no more. In addition to being estranged from his parents, XL’s so-called friends left him alone. He also lost a lot of who he was in his early adolescence. Since then, he has learned that even when his intentions are good, the end result isn’t always favorable.

After being expelled, disowned, and alienated from the wizarding world at age eighteen, XL traveled the world completing various bizarre jobs in order to get by and keep busy. Over a decade later, XL chooses to take the base exam equivalent to graduating from a magic school. With this requirement completed, and his years’ worth of experience under his belt, XL is qualified to teach as a professor at a magic school.

XL is lucky that JW, as the new headmaster, decided to hire XL onto the staff, as the new herbology professor. Herbology was always XL’s favorite subject. He’s in the middle of writing a massive index of new species he observed during his twenties!

It’s been so long since XL stepped foot in Hogwarts. Funnily enough, it feels a lot like coming home, a feeling XL hasn’t had in many years. He has a week to re-familiarize himself with the school grounds and meet the other professors before the students are scheduled to arrive for the new year.

One of the tasks XL is assigned as the herbology professor is to supply the potions professor with special plants and ingredients he has access to. The potions professor is named Hua Cheng, an intriguing name if XL says so himself. Though the first two times XL searches HC out to figure out which ingredients were needed most, HC isn’t in the room.

XL ponders if he should put together a basket of goods based on his own memory of which ingredients are popular in potions and see if HC has other suggestions afterward. Instead, XL decides to leave a letter arranging a meet-up time in hopes he can converse with the potions professor in person.

The next day XL enters the potions room, a tall youth stands over a cauldron while glancing down at a thick, opened book. He wears the standard black robes, the emerald green collar symbolizing he is part of Slytherin’s house. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail. XL wonders how a student is allowed to brew potions in the classroom a few days before all the other students return to Hogwarts.

He must be a prefect, or even headboy, to gain this privilege, XL decides.

XL shuffles around a bit until the youth notices his presence.

“Hello! So sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for Hua Lao Shi,” XL greets politely with a nod of his head. The youth merely straightens up. He tilts his head without saying anything. XL figures he must be a bit confused. XL quickly introduces himself, “I’m Xie Lao Shi, your new herbology instructor.”

The Slytherin student blinks. “Nice to meet your acquaintance, Xie Lao Shi. May I ask what the subject of your meeting with Hua Lao Shi entails?”

“Ah, I simply need to discuss the supplies Hua Lao Shi needs for the start of the school year.”

“Oh, that’s very considerate of Xie Lao Shi to ask beforehand. None of the previous herbology professors did so,” the youth comments idly. He steps away from the cauldron, waving his hand over it to temporarily seal the potion. XL’s eyebrows raise, impressed at the casual display of finesse. “But it’s nearly the start of the school year. Am I correct in my assumption that Hua Lao Shi hasn’t made himself readily available for a meeting?”

XL hums good-naturedly. “I’m sure he has his reasons. He must be quite busy these days leading up to classes starting.”

The Slytherin student lifts his hands in a playful shrug, a gesture implying, “As if.” He must be really close to the potions professor to act like this behind his back.

“Do you, by chance, know where Hua Lao Shi is at the moment?” XL asks, approaching the youth.

“Probably in Slytherin’s common room. At the beginning of each year, Hua Lao Shi performs numerous charms to prevent it from being ruined by whatever disastrous activities students engage in throughout the year,” the youth answers. He gathers up a bundle of scrolls to the left of the potions book, walking around the table to stand next to XL. “I can lead Xie Lao Shi to our common room, if he wishes.”

“Yes. That would be wonderful,” XL confirms with a smile. They begin exiting the potions room. “Thank you…?”

“Xie Lao Shi can call me San Lang.”

“San Lang seems very knowledgeable and mature for his age. Am I correct in my assumption that you are headboy?” XL questions, eager to know more about this charming youth who has given him the warmest welcome to Hogwarts yet.

SL lets out a throaty chuckle, eyes briefly closing as he laughs. Next, he sets those dark eyes on XL, shining with mirth. They maintain a steady pace of winding down staircases and corridors that eventually lead down to the dungeons.

“I’m afraid Xie Lao Shi is incorrect in his assumption this time. Headboy does not suit me.”

“Hmm, I beg to differ, based on the conversations I have had with you thus far,” XL disagrees lightly. Without thinking about his next words, XL continues teasingly, “San Lang seems like the perfect character to be in charge and order others around.”

This emits another loud laugh from SL. A hint of satisfaction bubbles in XL’s chest.

When they finally arrive at their destination, SL doesn’t even need to utter a password for the passage to open up. Strange, XL thinks. SL truly must be a figure to be reckoned with.

They enter an empty common room, spotless of any disorganization. Yet, no Hua Lao Shi in sight. XL follows SL who places the scrolls on the largest table in the room, which is already packed with inked parchment.

XL’s eyes flit over the pieces of parchments, belatedly making out class instructions, plans, and assignments written out.

Wait a second…

XL snaps his eyes back to SL, who turns around while pulling out the hair tie. Long, thick waves of raven hair spill over his shoulders; a black eyepatch now covers his right eye.

“Welcome, Xie Lao Shi,” Hua Cheng says knowingly, voice notably deeper. “Shall we start our discussion about the supplies?”

***

Potions professor HC is also the head of Slytherin. He is considered a prodigy who has published five potion manuals that are highly regarded among the wizarding world. HC is very intimidating and direct with his words; strict with his instruction but gives credit where credit is due. And he certainly doesn’t hesitate to take away house points!

He is known to wear an eyepatch but no one knows the reason why.

To put it shortly, many of the students and staff fear him.

Because XL hasn’t kept up with the wizarding world’s gossip, he didn’t know about HC’s reputation, even less about his physical appearance! It took HC revealing his true identity with the eyepatch for XL to recognize he had been talking to the potions professor all along!

***

“How very sly of Hua Lao Shi to masquerade as a student this entire time,” XL says with disbelief. He is incredibly close to dissipating right then and there from the sheer embarrassment of not realizing his mistake. Perhaps the Slytherin common room has a mysterious hole that can swallow him out of sight.

“I apologize if I have offended Xie Lao Shi in any way. However, he is the one who sees me as young enough to be a student. How could I do anything but indulge him?” HC replies, not unkindly.

“Hua Cheng is indeed...shameless,” XL breathes out. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, mind and body telling him to find a place to hide!

He settles for taking a seat at the table.

“Please, continue to call me San Lang,” HC requests gently. He takes a seat next to XL, rolling out a blank piece of parchment to write out the ingredients he’ll need from XL. “‘Hua Cheng’ is too formal.”

The explanation is surely a bit faulty? Why have XL call him ‘San Lang’ when his name is actually ‘Hua Cheng?’ Do the other professors call HC ‘San Lang?’

XL clasps his hands together on the table.

“Very well. I will address you as San Lang, but only when we’re alone,” XL says, determined to remain professional in front of the students.

Wait, that was very suggestive, wasn’t it-?

“When we’re alone, may I call you Gege?” HC adds on, interrupting XL’s internal panic. The younger man pins XL with a curious gaze, staring in a way XL is not used to being stared at. XL clears his throat while looking away.

“I will allow it.”

(Brainchild w/ @no-one-says-hi) 

《II》

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Nine: Letters, Lovers and Loyalties

A/N: This is the ninth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Yet another letter dropped into the lap of Aria Dumbledore as she sat absentmindedly sketching. Dropping her quill back into the small pot of ink which balanced on the arm of her chair, a small sigh escaped her lips. She had been expecting another to arrive any day now.

Aria allowed herself a small glance in the direction of her desk where the ever growing pile of unopened letter sat gathering dust. Disregarding her drawing, Aria traveled to her desk, fingers fumbling with the edge of the envelope. Admittedly, Aria's mind had been focused on that small pile of letters the past few days, and consequently the man who sent them. She couldn't bring herself to reply to his constant inquiries, but she had considered there was no harm in opening a few of them. She longed to hear from him, though she had been in denial for so long now she wasn't sure what to expect from his most recent letters.

Waiting no longer she ripped the paper from its wax seal, her eyes quickly scanning every word on the page.

My dear Aria, Though I know you say you cannot reply to my letters, I write them all with the hope that you will find the time in your busy schedule to at least read them. As always things are quiet here without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice. I miss hearing you sing to yourself in the shower thinking no one can hear you, I miss hearing you hum as you wander aimlessly through the house, I miss watching you draw as I pose for you, but most importantly I miss holding you in my arms. I long for the end of the school year when we will be reunited and I will have nothing to miss except maybe writing these letters. I long for a response to my letters, my darling. I simply must know that you miss me as I miss you. In the mean time I will continue to write to you to keep myself distracted from everything terrible happening in the world, by simply thinking of you. All my love, S.

Aria couldn't help but feel a great pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach for ignoring the letters, but she couldn't bare the thought of reading them, while she was still coming to terms with how she felt when she decided to leave for Hogwarts. She knew immediately she would not be able to maintain a long distance relationship with him. Though he was the first man she had ever loved she had been too cowardly to confess her feelings for him in person, let alone on a piece of parchment. She knew she was a pathetic coward from the moment he told her he loved her and she could not find it in her to return the favour. Her cowardice was more than proven the day she left for Hogwarts. Aria had planned to break up with him, to avoid further heartbreak down the line. But she could not even find the courage to do that.

Instead she was living in denial. In her mind they had broken up, and refused to face up to whatever she was truly feeling until it was absolutely necessary. Her plan had been to distract herself as much as possible, suppress her feelings and just forget about the situation completely. And to be totally honest her plan had been working for her, with the exception of a few off days such as today. However when it came time to wake up and face the music she had no idea what her plan would be then.

Leaving the letter open on her desk she took a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts to clear her mind. The time to figure out all of her problems was not now. She was still a young, carefree woman and she didn't want the burden of guilt stopping her from living her life however she so wished.

Arias walk led her to the village of Hogsmeade, and after working up a light sweat, the young professor opted to pop into the Three Broomsticks to quench her thirst.

Unsurprisingly for a late Tuesday evening the place was barren. Besides for a drunken wizard practically falling off his bar stood, a crazy witch whispering to herself and two well dressed men, sitting out of place in a side booth, the place was completely deserted. Planning to only stay for a pumpkin juice Aria took a seat at the bar and begun chatting to the same barmaid who had served her and Severus all those weeks ago.

"Busy night?" Aria joked, rolling her eyes at the drunk to her right.

The woman laughed in return, handing over a glass of pumpkin juice. "This is pretty much the standard, at this time." She shrugged, polishing off a perfectly clean glass, to keep herself busy. "That one over there doesn't even order anything, but its not worth the hassle kicking her out." She gestured to the old hag in the corner, her perfectly polished nails glistening in the dim bar light.

"I wish I could say I felt sorry for you, but a break away from the chaos that is Hogwarts is a slight relief." Aria sighed. She was still not used to being around so many people all the time having spent the past few years alone, besides her mother, she often needed time alone to breathe.

"Oh, then you must be new. I've had my fair share of lonely professors spend an evening behind my bar, and I usually remember who's spilled their whole life story to me. Though you do look familiar, what do you teach?" She finished up with her glasses, leaning her elbows on the bar to get a closer look at the younger woman, her breasts practically falling out her blouse.

"I'm just an apprentice for now. I'm the new Potions Mistress." Aria smiled, taking a small sip of her drink.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You came here with that Severus. He's not unfamiliar with our whiskey selection, if you know what I mean." Both women rolled their eyes in unison. "He doesn't seem to talk much though, I can't say I know anything about him. I must admit I was surprised to see him with a gorgeous young witch like yourself."

"You weren't the only one." Aria scoffed, finishing off her pumpkin juice.

"Well it makes a little bit more sense now." She laughed, a set of pristine pearly teeth emerging from her red glossy lips.

It seemed Aria was not the only one who had been admiring the woman's beauty, and almost right on cue the drunk decided to look a little bit more lively, demanding another pint. Reluctantly the barmaid obliged, shooting Aria an apologetic look.

Aria couldn't help but notice the gruff looking man practically throw himself over the bar in order to get a good gawk at the barmaids behind. The slightly older woman seemed unfazed by the mans actions, in-fact Aria wasn't entirely unsure she wasn't enjoying the attention. Choosing not to interrupt as neither party seemed to object to the altercation, Aria kept her mouth shut.

That was until the man's attention turned to her. The barmaid disappeared from view, presumably to refill the barrel the drunk had practically drowned himself in. "Haven't seen you around here before." He started harmlessly, though Aria did not miss the way his eyes seemed to scan the whole of her body.

"Just moved into Hogwarts, haven't seen much of Hogsmeade." Aria admitted, but made the conscious decision to turn away from him, hoping not to engage in any further conversation.

"You a friend of Ros'" He asked, intrigued, while downing a good half of his pint.

"Not really, no." Aria shrugged. "I didn't even know her name until just now."

"Rosalind Rookwood." He edged his seat closer to Arias. "Fantastic barmaid, though I wouldn't say it was her best profession." He winked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Aria turned her nose up at the man, just praying he would leave her alone.

"Well, you know, bein' a barmaids fine an all, but it doesn't always pay the bills. Miss Rookwood's got her fair share of stories to tell, and not all of them her own." He laughed, the potent stench of his alcoholic breath suffocating Aria as he leaned in closer, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders. "If it turns out teaching isn't for you, just know you'll have a loyal customer in me." He hiccuped, his free arm, reaching down to stroke the woman's exposed thigh.

Instinctively Aria gripped onto his wrist, forcing it off of her. "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" Aria exclaimed, pushing the man away from her. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me again."

The drunk showed no sign of guilt or remorse, he simply chuckled to himself, revealing a shocking lack of teeth. Disgusted, Aria made to move but found herself cornered against the bar.

Fortunately the altercation had caused enough disruption to alert the two men having a casual evening drink. Instantly one rushed over to her aid, stupefying the old man. The second man followed suit and made it his business to remove the frozen figure from the bar.

"Are you alright?" The first man asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine, thank you for stepping in." Aria smiled, brushing herself down, as though she was riding herself from the drunks disgusting touch.

The man returned a boyish grin, his eyes bright blue and full of kindness. Aria had never seen anyone like him. His presence was almost cartoon like, with positivity radiating from him. Aria couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, her smile growing just by looking at him. His energy was contagious.

"Is... is there anything I can do to thank you?" She tried your shake herself back to reality though remained entranced by him.

"Nothing at all. I'm just glad I was here to help." He extended a hand, almost nervously, introducing himself. "Alexander Turner, pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Aria blushed, unable to break eye contact with the man, and was now incredibly aware of how dumbfounded she must look. "I'm Aria" She stuttered, the sound of his friend retuning sending her back to reality. "I apologise for staring, but I just can't seem to take my eyes off you, you have an enchanting aura about you. I'm sorry if I may seem a little strange."

"There's no need to apologise, I get it all the time." He laughed, though not arrogantly, it was sweet and innocent. "My mother's a Veela." He added, almost embarrassedly, upon noticing the slightly look of confusion appearing on Arias face.

The couple shared an awkward smile, both at a loss for words.

Alexander's friend passed by the pair silently, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before disappearing behind the bar, Rosalind following closely behind.

Aria noted the difference in both attitude and appearance in the two men, finally able to distinguish between the two. The friend was tall and broad shouldered, his hair messy though not long. He gave off a sort of American football, "bro", fratbroy vibe. In other words kind of arrogant and full of himself. Clearly he saw himself as the one in control. Alexander on the other hand was more slim, but not skinny. Tall but not lanky. Innocent but not naive. His clothes appeared similar to his friends but presented more neatly and well put together. She assumed he felt sorry for his friend, knowing his Veela parentage would gain him lots of female attention, and in return Alexander simply allowed himself to get pushed around to boost his friends ego.

With a roll of his eyes Alexander practically confirmed her theory and Aria couldn't stop herself from laughing once more.

Knowing that while Rosalind and 'Braydon'; as he turned out to be, would not be returning any time soon, Aria and Alexander chose to occupy one of the booths and get to know a little bit about each other, where Alex truly confirmed all of Aria's suspicions.

Upon Braydon's return, he flashed his rather large biceps, kissing each one in turn as he flexed them, before letting out a hearty growl, presumably this was a display of male dominance among his kind. His kind being; douchebags.

With another roll of her eyes Aria bid farewell to the men, thanking Alexander once more for his heroic rescue.

"How about a date?" Alex called nervously as Aria had just about reached the door.

"I'm sorry?" She replies, caught off guard.

"A date, here, with me. What do you say?" Aria shook her head unable to look away from that damn charming smile of his.

"I'll agree to a few drinks." She clarified. "Just send me an owl, you know where I'll be." And with that she disappeared once more down the path to Hogwarts, the grey sky above all the while threatening to rain down on her.

Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @lizlil​

[ho-ku-o-five]

Kongeriget Danmark

Here is little DenNor oneshot based off the headcanon I have about how the Nations live amongst their citizens and how they must change their persona often in order for them not to be discovered as the immortal country personifications that they are, which is a pretty dark concept if you think about it.

Denmark gets too attached to his human neighbours and struggles with the knowledge that he will always outlive them all. Without Norway by his side, he wouldn't be able to cope.

-------------------

"Nation Persona Registration for Kongeriget Danmark: STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL"

Denmark stared at the document on the desk in front of him, his pen hovering just a few centimetres from the page.

The Danish National Day had been and gone a just a few days prior, on the 5th of June, and although he had been expecting that he would wake up to find the thick brown envelope sealed with the red wax seal from his government on his doormat any day now, that didn't mean he was prepared for it. 

It had been 10 years since he’d last had this form lain out in front of him, and it had been just as hard back in 2010 as it was today.

In order to keep their existence somewhat unknown from their people and ordinary citizens, the Nations must change their identity regularly if they wanted to live among humans to avoid suspicion. Denmark couldn’t imagine a life away from his people, away from his neighbours and community, away from everyone and simply hidden away on a large piece of land all alone in a draughty house, and so he’d always chosen to re-register himself and play the role of an citizen since the 1800’s when it first became an available option to him.

Each government had their own way of doing this and so it could differ from country to country, but the Prime Minister and cabinet of Denmark’s government liked to keep it simple. Every 10 years around the 5th of June, or Denmark’s ‘birthday’ as it was sometimes coined, was when it was time for Denmark to pack up his things and re-invent himself.

He threw down his pen and his head fell into his open palms, sighing heavily.

At present, he was Mikkel Jensen, a 30-something year old Danish man who worked for the electricity board and lived on Maglekildevej in the small city of Roskilde, or at least this is how he was registered and this is what he told his neighbours.

Now, Denmark didn’t hate the responsibility of being a Nation Personification. He was good at his job and his role and in fact he rather loved it, sometimes working for 12 hours or more at a time to support his government. He even hadn’t minded the Viking days or the Kalmar union, even though he did still hold many regrets from that time in his long life. What he hated, truly hated, was the minor inconvenience of immortality. To the average person, 10 years would seem like a relatively long amount of time, but to Denmark it was like the blink of an eye. It felt like only yesterday that he bought this house and Lars Løkke Rasmussen was his prime minister.

Rising from his chair, Denmark walked over to the window and leant on the window ledge. He looked out at the street past the low fence of his front yard and at the house across the road. In the 10 years he had lived here he had got to know his neighbours and the humans that ran the local businesses around him.

Jette and Askel lived across the street in the house that he was looking at. It was a pretty house, all white plaster with a beautiful rose bed in the front garden. They had a baby girl last year, and Denmark had taken them a cake a hamper full of toys and outfits for the little newborn in congratulations. Then there was Eva the friendly bar tender in his local bar. She’d recently got engaged to Bo from the bakers. Denmark had bought them a bottle of Moet in celebration. He would miss them all, but the person that he couldn’t stand the thought of moving away from this time was Lillebeth, the elderly lady who lived directly next door. Denmark did everything for her.

Although he lived alongside his human citizens and had relationships with them, he tried his best not to get too attached for them and go as far as making friends with them, but Lillebeth had captured his heart pretty much as soon as he’d taken the ‘sold’ sign down in his front yard. He’d moved to Roskilde from Copenhagen in the summer of 2010, just after he’d left behind his life as Magnus Jensen, a high rise office worker, and became Mikkel. Denmark liked to keep the same last name and the same initial of his first name each time it came to re-register, not wanting to completely re-invent himself to the point he was unrecognisable from his previous human persona.

On the day Denmark had moved in, Lillebeth had been struggling to bring in her bags of groceries from her car. He hadn’t hesitated to go and help her, despite being exhausted from carrying heavy boxes and furniture to and from his house all morning, part of him genuinely wanting to help an old lady, and the other part of him happy for an excuse to get to know his new neighbours. She invited him in for a coffee and a sandwich that afternoon in thanks, and Denmark found comfort in her right away. He had always longed for a mother or grandmother figure, and Lillebeth turned out to be just that. As the years rolled by, the two had become quite the pair. In summer they would garden together and share Limoncello, Lillebeths favourite tipple, over the fence, and in the colder winter months Denmark would walk with her to the shops and back to make sure that she didn’t slip on the ice. All the while however he knew that he was just making things worse for himself as he knew he couldn’t stay in Roskilde forever.

Tearing his eyes away from the window, Denmark brought a hand up to his cheek and wiped away a tear that he hadn’t realised was rolling down his face as he was deep in thought until he felt it drip onto his collarbone. In a haze, he walked into the kitchen and set the coffee machine brewing, looking around the house. It suddenly felt cold and empty. In his lifetime, Denmark had seen many a movie and read many a book written by humans about the gifts of immortality. Vampires, Witches, even teenage school children were often written as immortal as if it were some kind of divine quality. He scoffed as he thought about it. Who in their right mind would want to live forever? To be devoid of friends, of family? Sure, Denmark had the other Nordics and the other Nations, but nothing would ever be able to fill the hole in his heart where his own family and children should have been.

He couldn’t count how many times he’d started again and how many people he’d left behind over the years, and at times cursed himself for not choosing to live as a recluse and only interacting with other nations and a select few humans in government like some of the other nations did. In his appearance Denmark could pass for a human between his early 20’s and up to late 30’s depending on how he dressed, and over each of the 10 year personas he had repeated pretending to age so many times. Each year that passed he would change his looks slightly, cut his hair a little differently and lose and gain different interests just to really make it believable to the humans around him that he was a man going from a young adult to mature adult, and it was exhausting. He’d run out of hobbies and interests at this point, and had no idea who he was going to be next.

His eyes stung and his lungs burned as he tried his best to hold back his misery, but he couldn’t. Burying his face in the crook of his arm, Denmark slid down the counter and landed softly on the kitchen tiles, sitting with his back against the cupboard and just wept. The sound of his body wracking sobs filled the house and he could feel his throat becoming hoarse. The coffee machine beeped above him on the side and there was a knock at the front door, but Denmark was in no state of mind to care, wanting nothing more than to just scream out in anger. His mind was turning dark, and he could think of nothing other than wanting to throw himself off a cliff or hold his head under the bathwater just long enough to slip away than to go through another 10 years of silent torture, but he couldn’t do that to his people.

Denmark was so detached from the world around him at that moment in his wave of sorrow that he hadn’t heard keys jangling in the lock of the front door or the calling of his name, and hadn’t realised the was someone else in the room with him until he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He looked up, startled, fighting to slow his tears and blinked blurry eyed into the face above him.

“Norge…” he choked out as a gentle hand brushed the hair that had fallen flat around his face away from his eyes. Denmark struggled to sit up, but soon stopped and instead leaned into the familiar, warm figure as Norway didn’t relax his grip around his shoulders.

“Shh, I’m here.” Norway said, and Denmark could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke. The two of them sat in silence for a short while as Denmark worked on slowing his breathing and just let Norway hold him. For as long as he could remember, Norway had always smelt the same, and being wrapped in his embrace and breathing in the faint scent of saltwater and fallen pine needles was the closest thing that Denmark would ever feel to being home.

“I had a feelin’ you would’ve had your forms already.” Norway spoke again, his voice as soft as ever, and finally released Denmark from his embrace. He uncrossed his legs and stood up from the kitchen floor, then extended a hand down to Denmark and pulled him to his feet once he’d grasped it. His eyes wandered over Denmark for a moment, lids heavy, as he stood before him, a foot taller, with his broad shoulders slumped and his eyes red and swollen.

Compared to Denmark’s, Norway’s government were a little more lenient when it came to him living amongst humans as the Nation that he was. There was no set deadline in which Norway had to re-register, as long as it was within 20 years of him having previously done so. He knew by now that Denmark had to re-register every 10 years, and that each time Denmark found it harder and harder. Norway’s bosses also knew this, and so he had worked over time the past week to allow some free time to visit Denmark. He’d had to miss out on Denmark’s celebrations on the 5th of June as well as Sweden’s the day after, but after a brief chat, Sweden understood and would rather Norway spend the coming days with Denmark as he packed up his house and sent in his re-registration forms than to get just drunk with him as they could do any other year.

In the last 25 years or so, Norway had gone from Sigurd Helgeson, to Nils Isberg, then to his recent name of Lukas Vik-Olsen which he had registered to two years ago, and currently resided in Tromsø. He was worn out from working so hard the past couple of days, but he was glad that he did it.

Denmark wiped his runny nose messily on the sleeve of his sweater and looked sheepishly at Norway, already feeling a little better at having the one person he loved more than anything in the entire world standing before him.

“They came this mornin’. I’m just so tired, Nor. I can’t start again, not yet.” He said, and his voice came out as just a strained whisper.

Silence fell between them once more as Norway leaned towards Denmark and reached up, cupping his face in one hand and resting the other on his shoulder. His thumb brushed against Denmark’s cheek, and Denmark leaned into the gentle touch, wanting to cry all over again at the way Norway looked at him with such love that he would never tire of no matter how long he lived.

“Do you wanna talk through your plan with me? I can stay for a few days. You’ll be okay, I promise.” Norway said, and nodded to his suitcase that stood by the front door, his jacket and shoes messily discarded beside it from where he had rushed to Denmark’s side upon entering.

Although reluctant, Denmark trusted Norway and knew that eventually he would be alright. Living among humans wasn’t all bad, in fact majority of the time he loved it, and once he’d got settled into his new life he would soon start to feel better.

He nodded as Norway slid his hand away from his face, “Getting my passport re-done is the easiest part, I just need to think of my next name. I mean, I’ve got an idea but…” Denmark mused as he turned to the coffee machine and took two mugs from the shelf behind it, reaching all the way to the back to dig out the large one that had always been Norway’s favourite.

“Well you know I’ll take your new passport photo for you, if you want.” Norway said, taking the hot mug of coffee that Denmark had poured as he passed it to him and curled his fingers around it.

The pair walked into the living room. Norway took a seat on the couch and Denmark set his coffee down on the table, disappearing into the study for a moment and then returning with the brown envelope. Denmark was in no state of mind to make any solid decisions right now about his re-registration, but running over his thoughts and voicing his worries with Norway would help his mentality. Sitting down heavily next to Norway, Denmark laid the envelope on his knee and slid the contents out again.

“Y’know,” Norway began, blowing softly onto the hot coffee in his mug in a vain attempt to cool it down, “I’ve always liked the name Matthias.”

Denmark glanced at Norway out of the corner of his eye. No matter where he found himself, or how much he might despise the curse of his immortality, as long as the Kingdom of Denmark had the Kingdom of Norway by his side, he would be alright.

Now, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Matthias, huh?”

[chrysalispen]

Prompt #14 - Part

a story about family, and grief.

cw for minor character death, lore consistent racism (unfortunately garleans are Like That), depression, and references to alcoholism.

==================

  Don't cry. Oh, don't cry.

He did not hear her. He continued to weep, tears leaking beneath the seal of his crimson mask of office and into her robes, soaking into the fabric. 

I'll save you, Hades. I'll find another path. I'll save you.

It was her last thought: carried in the drift of her soul as it split into four and ten, like the currents of the spring wind in her feathers. Taking her way home upon the wing to her friends and to the man she loved. 

To the world she loved.

   (To-)

   ~*~

"I'll save you, Vittora," Julian rem Laskaris whispered. "I will."

He sat as he had for days, clutching desperately at the hands enfolded in his own, so pale and wasted they were nearly translucent. She lay still and pliant, her brow cool and clammy and - strangely, he thought - it was damp. He did not realize at first that it was with his tears. He had duties, but he cared nothing for them at this moment. Neither Rabanastre nor the castrum would cease to exist while he tended to his family. The tribunus had not left his wife's bedside in a near sennight.

His brilliant composer, his nightingale, was dying. She had drifted into deeper and longer periods of sleep as she weakened, as time had worn on, and the warmer climes of the Estersands had done little to improve her condition. And now that she was near the end, she had lapsed into this dreamless coma. The final sleep, the chirurgeons had told him, and Julian thought it quite apt.

For there would never be the like of Vittora cen Remianus upon this star, ever again. Not for him. Not in this lifetime, not while he drew breath.

If you have goodbyes to say, they had told him, 'twould be best to see them said now. 

He only distantly heard the sounds of his young daughter's wails for her mother, muffled as they were against her governess' apron. Once again he found himself grateful for L'haiya dus Eyahri's steady presence and the rock it had been in their household, for being able to care for the girl where he knew he could not, even though she was the only child they had borne together.

He could feel her gaze boring into his back. He had looked into that small face only once, and was met with a silent plea for strength and comfort. She had reached for him, and he had turned his back, and he had refused to look again. Aurelia had Vittora's eyes: those deep dark fathomless pools of indigo blue.

Already, he couldn't bear the sight of them.

"I'll save you," he repeated. With the greatest care he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them to her knuckles, then held one of her palms against his unshaven cheek: rough with gold and brown stubble. "I'll find a way. I'll find someone who can heal you. I swear it."

His attention remained fixed upon the figure in the bed, counting silent beats to the tortured sound of his wife's breaths, living upon the stuttering rise and fall of her chest.

He could see nothing of her face in repose through his tears. 

~*~

He had left Rabanastre for Ala Mhigo. It had been a demotion to do so, but Julian had cared only to leave his grief behind.

It had followed him all the same. His daughter might have the look of a Laskaris but she was every ilm her mother's child, from her dark blue eyes to her iron will, and as she grew the ghost that haunted his halls only became more and more corporeal: a child with his honeyed tresses and his wife's luminous eyes, rebuking him in silence like a vengeful shade as she grew into her majority.

She had befriended her governess' young kinsman, and that he had allowed- he understood the value of allowing her friends and privately felt that a sense of noblesse oblige might not go awry- but even that had to come to an end, as the shadow of Solus zos Galvus' war machine fell upon them as readily as anyone else within the Empire's reach.

But instead of accepting matters as they were the girl had tried to go after them, had made a very public scene of it, and it was not until he had engaged in a furious lecture that he realized how worried he had been. Supper that night was an acutely uncomfortable affair, place settings slammed onto the table with angry emphasis and food all but untouched by both father and daughter as they sat across from each other in a tense and stony silence - neither willing to bend to the other's will. 

At length, the former could stand it no longer. The chair scraped against varnished beechwood flooring as Julian rem Laskaris gained his feet.

"I am retiring. I find my present company exhausting and I have a great deal of paperwork I must finish before cockcrow," he said, his voice flat with restrained ire. "Elle, pray send Cook my regards. The meal was quite fine, merely do I have no appetite. She can put my portion in the cold-pantry and have it brought to me before she retires for the evening."

"Yes, my lord, of course. Mistress Aurelia-"

"-will finish her meal and spend the rest of the evening in her bedchamber." Aurelia's chin snapped upwards, her expression incredulous. Julian continued on, undaunted: "And shall remain ensconced within the grounds for the next sennight. Perhaps more attention paid to her studies will impart the wisdom that her association with your young kinsman clearly has not."

Those dark blue eyes came alight with her fury and he did not miss her governess' wince. The girl might have become less outspoken and more circumspect over the years as her lessons began to shape her deportment, but it was clear she was not about to accept her punishment as meekly as he had expected or hoped- 

-and how very much like her mother she looked, he thought bitterly, at that moment. She stood to face him, hands balled into fists at her sides, lower lip quivering but too angry to cry.

"I am not one of your cohorts," she began, "to wait with bated breath upon your every command-"

"Sit down," Julian barked, suddenly every inch the commanding officer, fists slamming upon the table. She jumped, the spoon in her hand barely missing the rim of her soup bowl to clatter upon the muslin-covered surface. "I am still your father, girl, and you will respect that authority while you remain under my roof."

"That is a laughable assertion," she spat, every inch of her willowy frame screaming defiance, "given the only time I ever speak to you at any length is when you see fit to hand down some manner of discipline-"

His expression was akin to a thundercloud on the horizon. "Young lady-"

"-upon a matter in which you are barely versed!"

"You are on extremely dangerous-"

"Mother might not have agreed with me either, but she would have at least understood why I tried to go find him," she cried. "Would that I had been left with her, and not you!"

Something very like pain flashed through his chest. They were the words of a child, reckless and spoken in her anger- but it hardly mattered. Whether she realized it or not, her words had struck true. 

Slowly, as if physically wounded, Julian turned away. He held his hands clasped behind his back as if at parade rest, but he could feel how they trembled.

"I am going to wash my hands," he said, his words cold and clipped and soft, "and L'haiya will have the rest of your meal brought to you. You are not to leave your quarters until further notice."

"Father, I-"

Without another word, he quit the room, back stiff and straight. He did not heed her anguished sob nor the clatter of running footsteps.

=

It was nearly two hours later that he heard the measured rap upon his study door. 

He sagged forward in his chair, face buried in his hands, an open decanter and snifter at his side, and a gilt-edged picture frame on the desk in front of him. L'haiya shook her head as if to dispel the vision.

"Julian," she said in a low voice.

Without lifting his head from the cradle of his hands he murmured, "I assume she is sleeping."

"Yes. She'll not be leaving the house even with a chaperone until further notice, per your orders." 

She didn't bother to hide the disapproval she felt, and after a long moment, the Garlean's chin lifted ever so slightly, just enough to fix her with a cool and challenging glower. His pale grey irises were bloodshot, and strands of platinum blond hair hung low over his third eye and the edge of his brow, brushing at drink-flushed cheeks.

"You don't approve of my actions."

"I have not approved of your actions where she is concerned for a very long time, my lord."

Julian uttered a short, cold laugh. 

" 'Tis bold of you, to censure me while addressing me as a superior in the same breath. Boldness was ever your curse, Elle." He reached for the gem-cut bottle and tilted it against the lip of his snifter. Golden liquid splashed against the sides of the glass. "You know full well what I could do to you simply for speaking to me in such a fashion."

"With all due respect, my lord, you did not retain my services so that I might bow and scrape to your whims. You have underlings aplenty." Her hands bunched into fistfuls of her skirts. "Vittora was my friend long before you were my employer and I promised her I would look after both of you."

"I do not require a lecture from a savage," he slurred, in tones both petulant and caustic. Her lips thinned with anger.

"You are deep in your cups and thus I will overlook the insult this once."

"That I am 'in my cups' is the only reason I have to countenance your insolence." 

"Then I'm afraid you shall have to countenance it further, because I've come to do what Vittora asked of me," L'haiya retorted, "and speak to you as if we were peers- if only for this moment. I do so in full acceptance of the consequences should you feel they are warranted."

The words hung between them like an omen. 

For a moment the tension from the dining room returned- but this time, Julian did not rise to it. He lifted his glass and drank, grimacing at the numbness and heat from the alcohol, and L'haiya saw for the first time how much silver there was at his temples, how deeply sunken his eyes had become. He looked more like his older brother now than ever.

At last the tribunus exhaled and set the glass back on the desk. It left a wet ring against the varnish, one he didn't seem to notice.

"Very well," he said. "Speak your piece. I shall decide the merit of it."

"I don't think you should need me to tell you this but it seems someone must. You are neglecting your duty to your daughter, Julian, and you are failing her."

That got his attention. His hand froze halfway to the neck of the decanter and his eyes snapped upwards, dark with incredulous anger. L'haiya crossed her arms over her chest, meeting his scowl with an unbending stare of her own. 

"She isn't always the perfect picture of good behavior - no child is - but surely you have not failed to notice how very hard she tries to earn your approval. It will not be so very long before she no longer wishes to seek it. If you would have her speak to you with respect, she must be shown respect in turn."

"She is a child!"

"Aurelia is sixteen summers, Julian. She could well be considered an adult, and for many purposes as far as the Empire is concerned, she would be."

"That you would even suggest-" 

"The viceroy, in recent memory, has spoken to her with more warmth and familiarity. The viceroy, Julian! And it was by form letter, to commend her for her qualification to sit entrance exams! As a representative of the province! What do you even know about your own daughter these days? When was the last time you asked her about her hobbies?" L'haiya snapped. "Or discussed anything with her besides the food at table, or what arrived for you in the morning post?"

He sputtered, jaw slack: astounded at the woman's incredible gall as much as her words.

"I realize that you kept me on explicitly to be her governess and prepare her for her station in life as a citizen of the Empire, and I have filled that duty as best as I am able. But I am not her mother, Julian. And you cannot continue to shirk your responsibility to your own child and expect her to do aught save resent you." 

"This will not-"

"She needs you to be her father, not her commanding officer."

"I shall think on it," he muttered.

"You should act, not think-"

"Now you are overstepping your place. L'haiya." 

Julian's warning growl froze her words on her lips and he saw the veils drop back over her eyes again, now that she had been reminded of the social chasm between them. Anger overwhelmed him for a brief moment before it conceded defeat to despair: that old lurking and most toxic of friends. 

He slumped forward in his chair and reached once more for his decanter.

"My apologies," the Miqo'te said, each of her words edged with ice. "I had thought you might like to know where matters stand. Before you lose your daughter as well as your wife."

She quit the room, and he found solace once more in the burn against his throat.

~*~

He did not speak to the girl then or any time in the weeks afterward. 

He didn't know how. 

Unwilling to offer forgiveness to his child for her harsh words, or to beg her forgiveness for his own inability to be a father to her in return, he could but watch as they drifted ever farther apart. They became as silent ships passing in the night with sails ghostly and unfurled. She continued to bring his post and his evening coffee, and he took it with a cursory word of thanks. Beyond that small interaction, they did not speak. 

You are failing your daughter, Julian, L'haiya said in the halls of his mind, and beyond his affronted anger at a servant addressing him in such an unacceptably familiar way - to his own sensibilities, at least - he knew that she was right.

He was failing her. It was easier to keep the girl at arm's length, to treat her as he would have treated one of his administrative staff. To issue discipline in the way he might have issued an order. Far easier to do that than to look upon her and think of her as she had been, only to fancy that he saw Vittora staring back. 

He had thought that time might dull the loss, but he felt it as keenly now as he had then. If only she hadn't left him behind, but she had, and a part of him had died with her. It had gone into the grave, laid alongside her in her coffin like an offering to a god, and left only the pathetic, spiritless creature that he was now. His routine was unbearably dull but bearably tedious: waking and working and eating and sleeping, day to day to day. 

The truth of the matter - one Julian rem Laskaris bitterly accepted as his lot - was simple.

He was weak. 

He had always been weak. He had been weak-willed as a boy, and as a son, and as a soldier, and he had proven no better as a father. He knew that he was weak.

But he could not feel the drive nor desire to change what he was. And in this moment, facing down the Resistance skirmishers, calling orders to protect the supply line -- losing himself in his work as he had done since the day he had put his wife in the ground, Julian rem Laskaris failed to see the sniper from atop the high and windswept crag.

Nor did he see the arrow that pierced his throat.

His last memory as his body went cold, Garlean blood spilling onto foreign sand, was of the color of his daughter's eyes.

[drops-of-moonlights]

WINX REDUX AU SUMMARIZED: SEASON 3 (The Fugitive from Omega)

Or, in which I give the basics of what I’ve changed about the story for the AU. It was originally way more descriptive but if I kept it in that style I would have finished in 2039 and I ain’t got time for that. Let’s cover Season 3 at last!

WINX REDUX AU SUMMARIZED: SEASON 3

After a month or so of summer break, Stella calls everyone up for a meeting in Magix to start getting the stuff for her birthday party/princess ball going.

Aisha is a bit down, however - while she did inform her parents that she’s dating Musa now, they’re still going on about her arranged marriage and she wishes they would stop.

The girls then go to a few stores in Magix to buy a few things Stella didn’t get in Solaria - she’s making her ballgown for the event and she wants some extra decorations, as it’s the last time she’ll appear as the Heir of the Sun and the Moon and wants to honor both celestial objects.

After a bit of shopping they take a lunch break, and meet Chimera there. They fight over a pizza but neither gets it, falling into the floor after a tug-o-war.

The girls meet her again when getting a dress for Bloom, and the interaction is equally unpleasant.

They finally get everything and then Stella brings Bloom and Daphne to Solaria, so they can spend a week there before the main event, so they can sightsee a bit.

During this stay, Bloom confides to Stella and Daphne that she might be developing something for Diaspro, but she’s not sure if it’s a genuine emotion or just her being happy she saved her. The other two simply tell her to think about it more clearly, and that she’ll realize what the feeling is when it happens.

At around the same time, the capsule Stormy had been in during her stay at Omega suddenly malfunctions after some ice hits it hard, allowing her to free herself. She manages to free the other 2 and immediately makes Icy cast a spell so they don’t die from the cold.

They wander for a bit before getting chased by some ice wyrms, and find Valtor’s capsule.

They free him and immediately throw him to the wyrm so they can escape again, but to their surprise Valtor manages to kill it with ease. He formally introduces himself.

They find the portal to Antocea and manage to open it, taking a break on the settlement around it (mostly abandoned warehouses full with stuff they can survive on for a few weeks), and with Valtor’s Mark, they manage to control the mermaids around the place.

Valtor is still pretty weak from the trip however, and decides to take a trip to Solaria to drain a bit of power from the Lantern of the Sun, to revitalize himself a bit.

Stella and Riven show Daphne and Bloom around, and they also finally meet Radius.

He introduces Count Alessandro of Alba, and reveals to Stella that he will be marrying him in a few months. Everyone is surprised, most of all Stella since she didn’t even notice they were dating.

Alessandro also introduces his daughter Carmilla, who turns out to be Chimera’s real name. The two girls try to remain civil but it's proving harder and harder. Stella just doesn’t like Chimera that much, and Chimera’s paranoid this will just end like how her parent’s separation ended and does not want that happening again, ever.

Valtor arrives at Solaria Castle and sees Chimera, sees how easily manipulable she is at the moment and promises her that if she helps him get to the Lantern, he will give her some extra power to ensure she wins in the end.

Chimera agrees and lends him the Lantern for a few seconds, Valtor absorbs part of its power and then marks Chimera, giving her instructions on what to do.

Aisha finds out about the current mess on Andros due to the portal of Omega being open, causing havoc near their sister nations and decides to stay home to help, informing the girls in the meantime.

The day of the Ball has arrived, and everyone is happy for Stella and how the day is gonna go, even if they’re missing Aisha. Radius introduces her as the Heir of the Sun and the Moon and then announces his engagement to Alessandro.

They dance for a bit and Stella is about to announce whether she will turn into the Heir of the Sun or the Heir of the Moon, but she’s attacked out of nowhere, falling to the ground and finding herself unable to transform. An illusion spell is cast over the entire room by Chimera, who marks her dad and future step-dad as well in the confusion. It makes everyone believe Stella has turned into a monster and order her arrest, everyone forced to flee.

After an escape through the old aqueducts, they decide to leave for Alfea for answers, and Wizgiz informs her that her magic was sealed by a very powerful spell, and that it would take him months for him to break it even with the entire staff’s help. He instead points them to the Mirror of Purification, a magical spring deep in the mountains of Soraia that can remove any curse or spell placed on a person, no matter how strong.

They manage to get there after many mishaps, but the spring is hidden in caves and Stella’s just sick of everything at that point, her ball was ruined, she was more or less exiled from her own planet, and she feels useless without her magic especially now since the ring is still broken, tying it to her worth for a bit. She manages to find the spring and takes a dive in it, but she still can’t cast magic, and everyone arrives.

They manage to cheer her up and tell her how much she means to them even if she can’t believe it at the moment, and that does manage to lift her mood. She can finally cast magic again after this - the spring removed the curse the second she stepped on it, but her fairy magic wasn’t gonna come out until she could think positively again.

Stella spends the last week of break before classes with Bloom and Daphne in Daphne’s newly acquired apartment.

Classes finally start and the girls can meet with Aisha again, who catches them up on what’s going on at Andros. Daphne’s reaction to the name Valtor scares Bloom.

Stella reunites with her friend Nova, who had moved away a few years ago to another coastal city in Solaria and catches her up on what’s going on at her country.

Musa also meets the princess of Melodeus Galatea, and the princess gains an interest on Musa due to her style of music. They strike a quick friendship after that.

a few days pass and when news break that Valtor has captured Queen Ligea of Mareia, she can’t stand it anymore WE’RE GOING TO ANDROS TO SAVE MY AUNT RIGHT NOW.

So Stella teleports them to Andros to get a way to get there that doesn’t involve flying cuz they would die trying that are you insane. She stays behind to cover for them with the Pixies, Diaspro and Nova.

She gets busted almost immediately by Daphne though, who is in the middle of a panic attack.

On Andros, after a quick check-in with Aisha’s parents, the girls get one of the private smaller ships the royal house has to get to Mareia and rescue Ligea. They meet Roy then, captain of the ship and Aisha’s friend.

As they sail onwards they’re attacked by the Trix, and after a fight, Bloom’s knocked out into the seas, a small platform rising below her.

Valtor shows up and tries to talk to Bloom, finding her familiar somehow, but he’s attacked by the Winx and as a warning, makes Aisha blind.

While everyone’s trying to deal with this, Aisha’s cousin Tressa appears, telling them that there’s a chance right now of rescuing the queen since Valtor’s occupied elsewhere, back in the Omega portal.

Everyone agrees and after Aisha swaps to her mermaid form and casts a breathing spell to the rest, they delve into the sea.

After a few missteps they arrive at the underwater palace and rescue Ligea, and try to make a run for it when Valtor attacks them in person, alongside a kraken he marked.

The kraken quickly goes haywire and attacks everyone equally however, and manages to knock both Ligea and Valtor out.

Aisha wants to take this chance and defeat Valtor right then and there (she can sense everything and “see” underwater thanks to her source), but realizes getting Ligea to safety is more important and bails, leaving Valtor to escape.

As they’re nearing the surface however, the kraken strikes again trying to drag Ligea back down, but Aisha intercepts it getting almost killed in the process to save her aunt. Everyone else reaches the surface and are really worried for Aisha, until she rises from the seas in Enchantix, having earnt the form. Her eyesight is also restored now, earning the form removing any curse or spell placed on her. She uses her Essence Dust as well to heal Ligea.

They get back to Alfea and immediately get punished to organizing the recently restored archive after Bloom kinda destroyed it last year for their stunt in Andros, thought they congratulate the girl’s bravery in helping those in aid and does acknowledge that Aisha has a duty to her people.

Faragonda and Daphne then elaborate on who Valtor is (which you can read here), and why he’s so dangerous - he also has a Dragon Aura, and unlike Bloom, has mastered control over it.

A few weeks pass and the girls are done with that assignment, and Sky invites everyone to Eraklyon for the Days of Arturia festival.

Riven confides to Stella that he might be falling in love with Sky and she suggests just saying it outright after the party in private, taking advantage of the happy mood and that even if Sky says no at least he’s getting closer to overcoming what happened a few years ago.

Sky confides in Brandon and Nex that he’s starting to think he might be crushing on Riven and doesn’t know how to deal with it, and that it’s adding to the stress of planning the event.

Brandon simply suggests to ask him out after the party so he doesn’t focus on it much, and Nex does the same, also adding that the party is the most pressing matter at the moment and that he can work out his feelings later.

Everyone finally gets to the party and start interacting, with Sky soon to be holding a speech.

Diaspro leaves for a bit to get herself something to drink and is captured by Valtor, who had shown up to the party and wanted to absorb the magic of the Sword of Storms, a magic relic of Eraklyon. She’s forced to help him and ends up then thrown into a dungeon, Valtor then taking her form and going back to dance.

Valtor still needs someone under his control on Eraklyon, since thanks to Chimera he’s running Solaria from the shadows ensuring he doesn’t get caught if a King doesn’t consider him a threat. Disguised as Diaspro, he marks Sky, who then announces he’s gonna get married to Diaspro soon, apparently having been reunited.

He knows this is what most of the noble population was expecting of those two, and this will make them more compliant to obey Sky’s orders.

The Winx and the Specialists immediately see through the bullshit and go approach Sky and Diaspro what’s going on, Riven and Bloom sounding really hurt at this.

Sky orders for them to be arrested and everyone bails, Sky calling in the dragons to attack them. Erendor and Samara are also questioning what’s going on, but Valtor returns to his original form and also sends them to the dungeon so they don’t interfere amidst the chaos.

The dragons quickly go loose and start attacking everyone, and manages to knock Radius and Alessandro, who had been invited as well.

Chimera’s frozen in fear, being just a Charmix fairy who hadn’t seriously fought before, and Stella rushes in to save all of them.

She forces her sceptre to its limit to defend her family even if she’s unsure of what Chimera’s plans are, the staff breaking and her getting hit with the full force of the attack.

Stella earns her Enchantix thanks to this, her sceptre also reforming into a new form - the Staff of the Stars. She leaves immediately after this to escape the dragons, but is happy her dad still seems to be fine, and she caught the slightest glint of remorse in Chimera’s eyes.

Everyone rests in the ship for a bit before immediately turning back, wanting to know exactly what has happened. They saw the mark of Valtor on the neck of the dragons, so they know he has a part in this, and with Brandon’s help, they sneak into the castle the next day.

Valtor on his part goes back to check on Diaspro’s cell once everything started to settle down but realizes she’s escaped, and realizing that without the princess to mark, he’s trapped in the castle in order to keep with the plan.

As everyone else bursts into the castle unnoticed, Bloom starts to realize she might have genuine feelings for Diaspro after how hurt she felt at the announcement, even when she knew it was a farce.

They find Diaspro on the way to Sky’s chambers and while initially cautious, they realize she’s not marked and Bloom immediately hugs her, happy she’s safe.

Now all together, they barge into Sky’s chamber and see him with Valtor-as-Diaspro, who immediately decides to just cut his losses and leaves Eraklyon, Sky still under his control and ordered to attack him.

After a brief fight, Diaspro and Stella use their Essence Dust to remove the mark, and Sky falls seriously ill after this, having to remain in Eraklyon.

Brandon, Riven and Diaspro remain in Eraklyon to look after Sky, as well as help clear everything that’s happened.

A few more weeks past and Valtor has settled in his next targets - Alfea and Cloud Tower. He decides to go to Cloud Tower first, and with the help of the Trix and a clever ruse, manages to enter the building and trap Griffin in the same place she was trapped by the Trix years ago, Valtor taking power from the Eye of the Eagle in Griffin’s office. He then attacks Alfea with the entire marked school as an army.

They all get thrown into a fight and the Trix infiltrate the school as a shadow, trapping a random fairy (Galatea) and forcing them to help them reach the Archive, since according to Valtor that’s where Alfea’s treasure (The Wings of Alfea, a special shield that also helps form the barrier protecting the school) resides.

Musa, Flora and Bloom manage to track them down and defeat them, but the Trix still get the Wings and bail, Darcy casting a cursed fire over the room to delay them further.

Everything starts to be destroyed again and the Winx quickly evacuate Concorda and the other school Pixies as well as Galatea, but she trips with a piece of fallen wood from the bookcases.

She’s about to be crushed by the rest of the bookcases, but Musa rushes in and pushes her out of the way, getting her wings torn off and her leg hurt in the process.

She earns Enchantix thanks to this regardless, which reforms her wings immediately, but she still can’t fly properly due to the pain still being there.

Now with Essence Dust, she can undo the fire in the room, also restoring most of the books in the process.

Valtor and Faragonda had a hard fight during all of this, but Valtor manages to win and traps Faragonda in a tree.

The Winx then go look for Faragonda unaware of her fate, since most of the teachers need to help with the few possessed students they got to trap before Valtor called them back to CT, using their own powers to remove the marks and it’s gonna take a while.

After a brief but very rough adventure in Cloud Tower, the girls finally find Faragonda trapped in a tree, and after informing the staff about this they decide to send the girls to Lynphea, as the tears of the Black Willow can help them and Flora lives near that place.

Flora explains what the Black Willow is on the way there and when they arrive, they meet her sister Miele, a young Witch studying in Lynphea.

The Trix also go to Lynphea around the same time, trying to get the tears themselves as well since it would be useful for Valtor’s plans.

Flora and Miele then elaborate on what the tears are - it’s a special sap produced by the willow with incredible magical healing properties, and using it alongside some Essence Dust would manage to restore Faragonda completely, as Essence Dust alone runs the risk of Faragonda becoming part-tree forever, it’s not as strong with nature. It has mixed overtime with a natural spring around the tree, which has made it stronger but also more unstable.

They finally arrive to the place where the Willow is (a small lake and waterfall called the Water Stairway), and when getting to collect the water Miele warns everyone that the water’s so magically charged there’s no telling what it could do to them, so they have to be careful.

At around the same time the Trix arrive at the Willow, and a fight ensues, Miele showing off her Charmix form.

During the fight Miele is hit hard by Icy’s attack, knocking her out of the air, out of her transformation, and loses conscience, falling into the waters.

Flora immediately and viciously attacks and ensnares the Trix in some thorny vines before diving into the water to save her sister, and she does, managing to send her back to the surface but ends up too weak, her attack on the Trix having drained her, starting to drown.

Miele comes to on the surface and immediately screams for her sister, and Aisha is trying to control the water to bring her back. Flora then rises up on her own, having achieved Enchantix, and then uses her vines to drag the Trix into the waters herself, still pretty angry at them.

The Trix then come out of the water looking the same age as Miele and bail, taking some of the water in the hopes it’ll fix their issue as well. The Winx finally get the water as well and return to Alfea, at last freeing Faragonda.

A month or so passes with relative peace before news break out that the portal to Omega in Antocea has gone haywire, expelling insane amounts of magic due to Valtor and the Trix breaking it to pass through. Aisha once again leaves for Andros with the Winx, hoping she can meet with the still-living Sorcerer that helped make the portal all those years ago, Taboc.

After some battles with criminals that had escaped Omega, they reach the portal with Taboc (having picked him up along the way), but they find themselves unable to do anything, the Portal ejecting too much electrical magic and energy, and Taboc can’t control it, the spell to close it seemingly not working.

As Taboc, Bloom and Aisha consider other options, they realize Tecna’s not saying anything, and when they check, she’s already halfway into the portal.

Everyone else arrives and panics, asking her what does she think she’s doing. Tecna elaborates that since her Source is Electricity, she can maybe manage to disrupt and absorb the magic of the portal and close it once and for all, and asks them to say goodbye to Timmy for her, not believing she’s gonna come out of it alive.

This act earns Tecna her Enchantix, and with her new power and aided by her Dust, she starts casting the closing spell from the inside. A pillar of lightning rises from the center of the portal, and as fast as it came, it disappears, the portal fully closed, Tecna nowhere in sight.

Everyone thinks she might be dead, and in their sorrow and rage, everyone starts crying. Bloom and Musa then stand up, rage the only thing inside them, and decide to go back to Cloud Tower and face Valtor head on, blaming him for Tecna’s apparent death.

The others try to stop them but can’t, and defeated, Stella sends them to Cloud Tower while everyone else goes to Alfea in the hopes the other two will come to their senses.

Once in Cloud Tower, Bloom and Musa fight through the possessed students and fight Valtor head on, but are quickly defeated. He’s about to mark them both when Faragonda, Griffin, Saladin, Daphne and the Winx burst in, attacking Valtor head on and taking the defeated fairies out. Valtor recognizes Daphne and realizes that Bloom is the baby princess of Domino, his anger starting to rise as everyone leaves.

Bloom feels useless after the battle with Valtor, wanting to know how to get a better hold of her Dragon Aura. Daphne offers to help her, and Faragonda decides to send them both to Pyros to train under the Sorceress Maia, an old acquaintance of hers that also has a Dragon Aura.

The two princesses arrive and, after a few mishaps, meet Maia at last, and start training under her. With both Daphne and Maia’s guidance, she starts to get a better hold of her powers.

At the same time, Timmy manages to make contact with Tecna on Omega for a brief moment, and with the Winx’s help, they all go to Omega to fetch her. They end up being attacked by some of the criminals that escaped their capsules and are separated.

The Paladin Order raids Cloud Tower and finds it empty, Valtor having left the place and leaving all the marked Witches there as well. Life slowly returns to normal in the building.

Still on Pyros, Bloom and Daphne are near the end of their stay when they’re attacked by the Trix, sent by Valtor to steal a magic item, but decide to take a detour and try to take down Bloom once and for all.

A fight starts, and while they start winning, Icy starts to focus on Daphne to try and take her down as well, since she might be more dangerous than Bloom. She’s about to stab her but stabs Bloom instead, having jumped between them to protect her sister. This earns her Enchantix, and now with this power, and aided by a VERY angry Daphne, they manage to utterly defeat the Trix, sending them running.

After this event and with a new form, the two princess go back to Alfea, and learn of the fate of Tecna and the rest. At the same time, Sky and the others come back from Eraklyon, having finally recovered from Valtor’s spell. They all leave for Omega.

Once there they end up separated by the same criminals, with the guys on one side and the girls on the other. Bloom and Diaspro keep looking for Tecna until they get ambushed. Both transform and manage to make quick work of the attackers, but the struggle let a stalactite loose, coming for them.

Scared, Diaspro ends up confessing on the spot, and right before the ice hit them it got pulverized by another attack - it’s Tecna, who heard the commotion and wanted to check in.

They all hug, excited to see each other again, but then soon go back to business, trying to find the rest. They all end up falling through a crevice and find the other Winx, and after another happy hug, they all rise up again to the surface after fighting an ice wyrm.

They also finally manage to find the boys (who had all been captured), and after freeing them, they immediately book it out to the ship and back to Magix.

Back on Magix at last, Diaspro finally asks for Bloom’s answer on their feelings, and while Bloom is still not sure if she’s truly attracted to her, they do agree to try a date.

A few weeks have passed, the girls decide to go on a group outing again, as a late celebration for everyone being back together. 

They stop to have lunch, and while everyone else orders food, Aisha meets a guy named Ophir, who was asking directions at the start but ended up talking for a few minutes. He excuses himself once everyone else gets back with food, and says that he and Aisha might meet again.

Right as the girls finish eating, Valtor appears in the clouds as a projection, announcing his plans to steal the Eye of Myrari from the nearby museum.

The girls can tell something’s weird about this and go to the museum as well, and after some shenanigans and Ophir showing up in the nick of time (revealing he’s a Fairy in the process), Valtor manages to steal the real treasure he was after - Agador’s Box.

After this event, a few days go by, and Radius and Alessandro’s wedding day is approaching. Stella’s determined to free her dad from Valtor’s mark but has not been invited to the wedding (thanks to Chimera). She decides she’s done waiting around and starts to find a way to get to Solaria and fix this once and for all, and after some brainstorming and help from Nova, they decide on performing as bike stunt performers.

With tutoring from the Specialists, the girls manage to get a good handle on them enough to go to the event, and with Luna’s help from Solaria (who’s informed of all the happenings) they manage to sneak in.

At the same time, Chimera’s panicking - she knows most of the staff has picked up that both Radius and her dad are not acting right and her feelings are in overdrive, becoming more and more unhinged about the whole situation and cursing Stella. She carries out with the wedding regardless.

During the vows, with both Radius and Alessandro looking empty, Stella strikes and disrupts the wedding, calling out Chimera as an ally of Valtor and showing the mark on both of the affected. Chimera simply loses it and transforms on the spot, starting to attack the Winx.

The Winx do the same and Stella and Chimera go one on one, Stella swiftly defeating the manic noble. She simply shuts down completely and remains on the floor, broken.

Stella uses her Essence Dust alongside the others and finally breaks her father and Alessandro free of the curse, she and Radius hugging in joy.

Chimera comes back to her senses and simply says nothing, head hung. Alessandro simply sends her to the Roccaluce Rehabilitation Center, in hopes she can get better, elaborating on her actions - Chimera believes anything new coming into her life will be trouble, and after meeting Stella she convinced herself she would throw her out the second she got the chance to, entering a circle of paranoia and anxiety that overtook her.

Radius and Alessandro cancel the wedding and decide to have at another date, in hopes Chimera’s recovery is steady so they can all celebrate it fully. Stella also finally announces her new title - she’s the Heir of the Stars, and Fairy of the Cosmic Light, refusing both sun and moon and choosing her own path. She gets her Solarian mark as well.

Once back on Alfea, a few more days pass until Daphne comes to their dorm in the dead of night for a hidden mission, something she cannot share with Faragonda.

She has found out about the Liquid Aura Stars, ancient and terrible objects that could drain a magi’s Aura to almost extinguish it, and feels this might be the only thing they can use against Valtor. (Learn more about them here!)

After some calls and some clever excuses, Stella teleports them outside of Alfea and into a Red Fountain ship with the guys, who are helping them get in the area the Stars are supposedly hidden.

After another run-in with gryphons, they get there with more or less no issues, aside from Ophir also being there for some reason, claiming that he wanted to help.

They’re faced by a lot of beings on the way to the place, and Ophir shows off his powers, as well as befriending everyone on the way.

They arrive at a weird formation of gems and trees called the Crystal Labyrinth, where the Stars supposedly reside at the center of the maze. Everyone tries to enter together, but crystals suddenly cover the entrance, trapping Daphne, Aisha and Tecna on the other side and dividing them further, a voice echoing in the distance talking about some sort of trial.

The three girls advance regardless, and seemingly manage to reach the center, but there are two doors, the voice speaking again that to get to the Stars, they must pass this test.

Aisha is shown her parents finally breaking off the engagement, letting her be free at last, and on the other door, the Liquid Aura Stars reside. While she would love for her parents to finally accept her wishes, she knows she can get through them in her own, and goes for the Stars.

Tecna is shown all the knowledge in the world, all at her disposal, and on the other door, the Liquid Aura Stars reside. While part of her wants to just delve in into all that information, she knows her friends and the Stars are more important, and she can acquire all that information on her own, after all.

Daphne is shown Domino fully restored, her parents and her people okay and alive and happy, and on the other door, the Liquid Aura Stars reside. While Daphne would love nothing more than to restore her home immediately, she’s certain she will find the way on her own, and Domino, as much as it hurts her, can wait. She goes for the Stars.

They all arrive at the center and retrieve the stars in their casket, the maze disappearing around them and reuniting with the rest, going back to Alfea.

They somehow manage to get by without Faragonda or the rest of the staff knowing about what they just did (since taking the Stars is HIGHLY ILLEGAL), and decide to celebrate this as well as Stella freeing her kingdom by going out at night all together, with special permission from Faragonda.

During this trip, Sky and Riven decide to talk at last about what happened in Eraklyon, and how Riven helped Sky to get better. They both end up confessing to one another and start dating.

At the same time, Ophir shows up and reveals his true identity to Aisha - he’s Nabu, the man she’s supposed to marry. He wanted to meet her before the deal was done since he heard Aisha was already dating someone, and since he doesn’t want the marriage either they decide to arrange a meeting with their parents once and for all to annul the arrangement.

As they leave, Valtor appears in the sky as a projection again, challenging the headmasters of the schools to a match out of nowhere.

Everyone thinks this is suspicious but the headmasters take the challenge regardless, leaving their colleagues to protect the schools if something bad happens.

The battle starts but at no point Valtor fights in it, instead casting a powerful illusion spell to make it look like everyone is fighting Valtor despite actually fighting themselves.

He teleports to Alfea to look for whatever the Winx took recently - he knows they have something but doesn’t know what is.

The Winx intercept him, however, and a battle breaks. Valtor manages to defeat Aisha and Stella and almost marks them until Bloom barges in with the Stars, and starts draining Valtor of his magic.

She stops right before it would have gone to lethal levels, and almost detains him if it wasn’t for the Trix’s interference, who manage to drag him back to their hiding spot.

While Faragonda congratulates the girls on their plan, she also tells them they’re gonna have to go to court once Valtor is dealt with since they did violate some heavy laws getting the Stars.

Valtor, still weak, pulls one last power hidden in the Box (which he has been using to hold all the stolen powers so far), one he stole a long, long time ago and has been saving as a last ditch resort - the Spell of the Elements, one of the strongest powers ever created.

He casts different natural disasters to all the schools plus Magica City (an inferno to Alfea, tornadoes to Red Fountain, a flood using Lake Roccaluce’s water to Cloud Tower, and an earthquake to Magica), and demanding Bloom to face him once and for all, wanting revenge and nothing else.

Faced with the disaster, Bloom agrees, and the rest of the Winx plus Diaspro and Daphne go with her, Daphne wanting him to pay for what he did to the Lake, still holding a lot of memories for her.

Once they arrive they’re immediately dragged down to a makeshift cave made on the lakebed, the Trix arriving to fight the Winx plus Diaspro while Bloom and Daphne face Valtor head on.

As they fight, Valtor reveals what his plan was - to undo the curse on Domino, and free the country from the eternal winter. This leaves everyone confused, until he elaborates further that he himself cast the spell of eternal winter, but it has been tampered with and modified over the years, which made it impossible for him to undo.

He’s been stealing powers and getting people under his control from different realms so that once he frees Domino, he can finally take over it as its new king, aided by the people he has under his control to support him.

However, explaining his plan has made him careless, and after a good hit on him by Daphne, Bloom rushes to Agador’s Box. Valtor tries his hardest to stop her, but he’s in turn stopped by the rest of the Winx that have already defeated the Trix, and Bloom destroys the lock on the box, freeing all the magic Valtor has stolen from all the realms, leaving him powerless.

He decides to call back the elements with the last spell in his possession, and the waters of the lake start rushing back at a fast pace. Everyone starts to make a run for it but Valtor remains down there, still transformed somehow, frantically searching in case a spell still remains there. The waters come crashing down and the cave collapses with Valtor still there, and everyone else made it to the surface more or less safe. Valtor is never seen again, and is presumed dead.

The Paladin Order arrives as soon as all the other disasters stopped, and arrests both the Trix and the Winx on the spot for their crimes. A month of court meetings and cases ensue, held in trial for different things for both teams, with the Specialists, Helia and Nabu also held accountable.

After a month, a verdict is finally reached - while the heroes did break a very important law, it was done to protect the realms for an even bigger threat, and as such are charged with 2 months of community service, fixing all the damage Valtor’s spells have caused as well as just general helping around, and in the case of the magis, they’re cursed with a magic-restraining spell that will fade in a month, heavily limiting their magic usage.

As for the Trix, they cannot be sent to Omega as the prison is still a mess after the portal shenanigans, so they will be held in the Order of Mana’s dungeons until a more fitting place is found.

There are still 3 months of school left, and with the magic limiter it’s gonna be a pain, but the teachers are understanding at least so they’ll just have to work extra hard on finals. The worst has passed.

Daphne is called to Faragonda’s office and is given a book full of notes - it’s the one thing Valtor left behind untouched, found in a cave nearby. It details all the research he was doing on Domino’s curse, and she felt Daphne could use it.

Teredor and Niobe, alongside Nabu’s parents, show up to Alfea called by Aisha, and both she and Nabu finally face them and call them out, denying the arranged marriage. Teredor and Niobe finally agree to cancel the wedding as it’s clear neither of them wish to marry, and to strain their relationship with their daughter even further is unwise. Nabu’s parents also agree, but they seem more hesitant about it. The two young adults celebrate, and Nabu earns his Glamourix thanks to finally expressing his true feelings.

Sky and Riven also officially announce their relationship, as do Bloom and Diaspro. Everything seems to be going fine, and aside from having to pay for their technical crimes, everyone is happy the rest of the school year is going to be more calm...

[nochanchu]

more than this

pairing: park jimin x reader (unnamed oc) genre: college au | romance, not really drama drama but it’s internal, theme of pining, includes alcohol mention and player!jimin wc: 3,101 description: [based on number seven of this prompt list] Jimin struggles to express his feelings—it’s a given for such a frivalous lifestyle—but she makes it so hard and so easy to crave something else, something more. 

It’s a chance meeting. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jimin knows how this interaction will go. He will talk to her, she will engage him in some witty repertoire, probably flirt back just a teensy bit, then before he can seal the deal, she will shut him out and wrap up her defenses as high as New York’s skyscrapers just to keep herself safe. It’s admirable, endearing actually, that she doesn’t fall into him, that she fires back responses with a curve to her lips and a hand on her hips, because when someone as divine as she gives him the time of day, he can hardly contain himself from returning with a measured grin and hazy eyes filled with interest and a dash of curiosity.

There’s something about her, he has often noted. She doesn’t care about him or his reputation. She doesn’t care for his dyed red hair or his piercings. Hell, she doesn’t comment on any of it, lest he tries to cross the platonic boundary with some teasing suggestions, then she reminds him of his previous flings with a raised brow and a pursed lip. It’s an effective way for him to shut up—something she has prided herself in for the last few months—and it makes him wonder how he has done it. He’s used to Yoongi shutting him up. Sometimes even the jeers of his friend group easily silencing him, but it’s good-natured and sometimes well-deserved. But her? When she shuts him up, he feels like he has done something wrong, like he’s playing with a boundary that can’t be crossed with that method, and yet in all his fucked up experience, he isn’t even sure how he can bridge the gap with just a simple, “Hi, how are you?”

It’s not him. Not anymore. He doesn’t know how to fucking function in normal relationships. What is normal anyway? Is it giving her flowers before a date? Walking up to her doorstep and watching her walk inside? Is he supposed to wait to kiss her or does he just do it because it feels right? When he takes her to the restaurant, is he supposed to open the door for her? How about the car—

He shakes his head at the thought, heaving a long and drawn out sigh along the way. Because he doesn’t fucking know. He has no clue at all. That part of him—the oh-so-romantic side—is long gone, and whatever conception he has left of love is nothing more than phone number exchanges at his frat parties, overnight stays in his bed or theirs and a few dark splotches as a temporary reminder, and the faint recollection of what may have transpired before he is back to step one, if you can even call any of that shit love, that is.

When she sees him, she throws a coy smile in greeting.

Jimin does the same, waiting for her usual jabs.

“This is a first,” she casts an up and down look at him. “No one’s hanging off your arm or sucking on your face.”

There it is, he thinks, feeling a little nauseous at the thought. He hopes he sounds as nonchalant as he thinks he does. “Is that an expectation for me?”

“Isn’t it for all you fuckboys?”

He sighs, a part of him already resigned to the label she has been keen on reminding him of since the two of them first met.

On any normal day, Jimin probably would’ve enjoyed this sort of thing. His own notoriety preceding him well if anyone knew him. Their crowds ran in different circles. Greek life meets org life. Which isn’t much different from one another, if not for the fact that she was the one making shit the Juneteenth happen while he made beer pong, mild hazing, and the frequent stomp performance at Rush Week a thing. It was inevitable for the two of them to meet, and yet it only happened when he found her moving in on his floor as his second year of being an RA.

“I suppose it is,” he replies before a sip of his beer. The bitter taste is without even a hint of the citrus fruits that were promised at the start of the night, though even as the alcohol dissipates into his system, he still feels that bitterness when he realizes that it isn’t the beverage bugging him.

Perhaps he should, instead, say that if this were with anybody else, then he wouldn’t have minded being withered down to a simple fuckboy status. But because this is her—the very active presence in the background of his thoughts with your kind, inquisitive smile and witty quips that get him to flush with laughter—he is bothered at himself than anything else.

She tilts her head at him and asks, “What’s wrong?”

He catches himself before he can ask how she knows something’s up, because he isn’t sure how he would respond. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to admit to the truth that has been bubbling up inside him like Coca-cola fizz, or the result of an extremely bad hangover. The aftermath is far from pretty, jarring even if she hasn’t suspected anything from him.

“Nothin—” Her glare stops him.

“You’re terrible at bullshitting, Jimin. I hope you know that.”

“I’m just tired,” he says, hoping to convince her (and himself), but he would take anyone’s belief right now. He would arguably appreciate one of his idiotic frat brothers coming over to steal him away, so he won’t have to face this reality.

“Let’s go then.”

“What?” he blurts out, unsure if he heard her correctly. 

She grabs onto his arm before he can say another word, already taking a few steps before tripping over herself. He reacts quickly, of course. Her own body now leaning against him as he navigates her both out of the too-warm house and into the cool, crisp air outside. It swarms them both and whisks away the smell of sweat and booze as they both walk down the street toward the dormitories. He almost can’t believe she isn’t pulling away. In fact, he almost goes into shock when she actually gravitates back to him when he tries to create distance between them.

“Stay here. I might trip and die if you keep leaving me,” she says with a small frown.

Jimin swears it’s actually a pout, but her pouting is an image he never thought he would live to see. Because while they both often talked casually, the space she puts between them is intentional. By disallowing him the privy of seeing her in any other aspect but surface, it is to make sure he knows that she has no intentions of falling for his charms and becoming one of his many fling casualties. He has long since accepted this, conditioning himself to the quips and the distance if only to remain in her life. It’s kind of pathetic. He never would’ve thought he would be like this with someone, walking on eggshells and still hoping to have a moment longer with them, but she makes it easy for someone like him.

“Are you sure you want me walking you home? I thought you didn’t trust fuckboys like me.” He doesn’t mean to sound so self-deprecating, but he figures he can pass off his behavior as being tipsy whenever she confronts him about it.

But she surprises him yet again when she doesn’t. Instead she shrugs with a sway as each steps on the blemished gravel makes a steady path harder.

“You’re my RA. Shouldn’t I trust you?” There’s a twinge of sarcasm laced between her words, but he knows the semblance of truth is still there. Even if he has to squint to see it.

“Well, true...” When she stumbles into his bicep, a realization strikes him as quickly as her cheek does and he has to make sure to be extra careful when walking with her. He’s dense as hell, so he has to ask to make sure. “Hey, are you drunk?” 

“No!” She tries to tell him with a straight face, but a peal of laughter escapes past her lips, making his heart beat out of pace and into some sputtering wreck. “Yeah, okay. A little.”

Of course, she’s drunk. 

Considering she has never really let him stand this close to her (something he has respected), it should’ve clicked before, what with her stumbling out of the house and clinging onto him like a lifeline. Normal circumstances would’ve put them at a whole meter distance instead of this millimeter one. Nor would he have an opportunity to walk with her unless it happened by chance. And, he doesn’t mind at all, really walking with her is its own bonus to keeping her safe.

Jimin’s only concern right now is getting her back to her dorm, away from the danger that lurks on dark, empty streets, from the copious amounts of booze offered at every corner of his frat house, and most of all, his brothers either lurking about to spill his dreaded secret or just to flirt to get a response out of him (though it would’ve also been out of their own prerogatives as well). He hates to think that there’s some need to stake claim to her, because he just can’t see that with her, or anyone really. He’s never been that territorial kind of guy, as raunchous as his reputation precedes him, things just happen. Perhaps there’s a game of hard-to-get, but too much hard isn’t his forté, nor is too easy either. He likes the middle ground, where there’s a push-and-pull, an equilibrium of sorts that can subdue and enthrall him all the same; where he’s more himself than just bits and pieces conjured at times that necessitate certain him’s; where as shitty as he feels, he can still somehow feel better, even in situations where he is simply walking back home. He likes, well, her.

It’s such a stupid thought when he reiterates to himself that she isn’t just anybody to him, because no fucking shit she isn’t just anybody. To anyone at all. She’s a godsend, a damn gift, a person that—if he ever had to guts to say—makes him want to connect, to finally bridge a gap with someone that hasn’t been his friend for more than five years, because he loves his friends. They’re the best people in his life. But her? She holds down her own tier, effortlessly.

He realizes they’re both almost back at the dorm, her room, to be very exact. He’s disappointed at not having been able to talk to her, but he blames his mouth’s current inability to open and create sound. He wishes to brave that jump and just let her hear what his heart wants him to finally say. But when he looks at her underneath the bright fluorescent lights, he suddenly finds any and all words caught and jumbled in his throat like a bad traffic jam on a three-day weekend. He just can’t stop looking at her. Like really looking at her. It isn’t her constant rejection that bugs him, or even her at all, it’s what he knows she sees that really gets to him.

“What?” They both seem to say, breaking away the faintest of tension in the air. He laughs and so does she.

The more he urges himself to speak, the less he feels brave enough to do so. Even though a part of him wants to hear the truth so he can finally get over this, another doesn’t want to. That part would rather live in the suspense and hope for reciprocation.

“You look like you want to say something,” she points out. Her gaze flickers over his visage with careful consideration, though it looks more adorable with the small pout adorning her lips. He can’t say this is the first time he’s seen her like this, but that memory is faint and fading in favor of this new one. Whether it’s good or bad makes him even more nervous. “Jimin, spit it out.”

“I—” He pauses. “You’re still drunk right?”

She snorts, giving a nod as she leans against your door. “That can’t fade in a ten-minute walk, J. Why?”

“Okay, good… I wanna ask you something then.”

“Is it another pick-up line? Because, c’mon now, those are getting old. At this point, they’ve become keep away sirens like ‘wee-woo, fuckboy alert! Wee-woo!’” He can’t tell if she’s joking. He wants to say yes, but the joviality in her eyes barely matches the fatigue in her tone, and the reality of rejection seems to sink in more than ever.

“No, not that,” he says in a small whisper.

“What then?” She tilts her head, either out of curiosity or increasing sleepiness.

For obvious reasons, he expects the words to refuse to come. His courage dissipating alongside them. He doesn’t want to face reality with her, he prefers the comfort of the usual, he likes her jabs and their banters, he likes being this close without being too close, and even though he hates the unknown, he likes not knowing whether she likes him back or not.

“I’d been planning on saying this for a while, but…” He shakes his head, instead he says, “It’s nothing. Have a good night, okay?”  

She blinks, unsure of what to make of the sudden change probably. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “I’ll just wait until you get in, and I’ll leave you be for the rest of the night.”

She softly says okay, fumbling with her keys but managing.

Jimin watches as she gets inside, he swears she pauses and it looks like she has more to say but seems to decide against it, and instead an exchange of small waves passes between them before she shuts the door.

He can suddenly breathe properly then.

Maybe next time.

/

Next time finds its way to him the following morning.

She sent him a text just to see if Jimin was awake and she came knocking not too long afterwards. The know is a simple beat, one of which she came up with for the sole purpose of having someone to corroborate a potential alibi with, not that any of the other RAs have ever cared. But it was something Jimin and she shared, and it was something he was grateful for nonetheless.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, just as she did last night but this time sober.

He opens his mouth before shutting it immediately, falling prey to the hard stare she gives him.

“No bullshitting, Jimin.”

He steps aside to let her in. She takes perch on his desk, while he remains leaning against the now shut door. His nerves are bubbling back up again, but there is no escape this time.

“I know there’s something on your mind. You were so… quiet last night, even brooding you has more to say than you did last night, so as your friend, someone that knows you were running away from something—I have no idea what—please talk to me. You sounded like you had something to say, but you didn’t and I’m both curious and concerned to hear it.”

“Can you be honest about something with me?” he asks softly. He sits on his unmade bed and meets her eyes. Despite how much he would love to read into the fact that she caught on to how odd he was acting, he chalks that up to her being the observant person that she is, not a testament to feelings she probably isn’t harboring for him.

She nods.

“Am I just a fuckboy to you? It sounds ridiculous aloud, but with all the jabs you throw my way, it makes me wonder if that’s the only way you see me. I get it, I definitely deserve it. My reputation and all that precedes me. But it’s hard when I hope you might see me otherwise… I guess, if that makes any sense.”

He says all this with a wandering eye, the bulletin board with photos of his friends and family looking a lot less intimidating to even the awfully patterned carpet. 

“See you otherwise…” she repeats, catching his attention with clearing her throat. “Jimin, do you want to know how I really feel about you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She smiles a little. “I think you’re a great guy. Surprise, surprise right? I mean why else would I hang around you? You’re funny and sweet for the most part, and what you did last night stuck with me well into the night, because if I thought you were just like any other fuckboy on this campus, I would’ve accepted a walk home from any one of my other friends willing to do it. I wouldn’t have asked what was bothering you, in fact I was hoping you’d tell me on the walk, but Jimin, you didn’t try to make a move on me like any other asshole who would’ve when I was drunk, and besides that… I feel very fond of you.”

Jimin is speechless. The shroud of uncertainty lifting like clouds parting to make way for the sun. He can’t help but break out into a large grin.

“Does that clarify a few things?”

“It does. Thank you,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Who knew you were so shy?”

He wants to scoff, but he can’t and they both know it. “I’m sorry, I’m shit at this kind of thing. I don’t know how to do the fairy tale kind of love. I thought I could once upon a time, but you know how that went—poorly—and here I am, struggling and trying. Even if this wasn’t an ideal confession, I want you to know that I feel very fond of you too, by the way.”

“None of this has to be fairy tale perfect, or well, Disney fairytale perfect. It can be Brothers Grimm perfect, sans all the death and gore. I don’t mind that you’re learning. I am too, alright? We can learn to get something right together. That sound good?”

“It sounds Disney fairytale perfect,” he says, and she snorts.

“Good, because I think Disney fairytale perfect entails that we deserve some non-dining commons breakfast food. Me, especially for coming here despite having been drunk last night.”

“How does breakfast at Black Bear Diner sound?”

“It’s a date, you ready?”

“With you, of course.”

He grabs his keys and shucks on a sweatshirt from his closet, her soon following suit, as they have the first of many dates.  

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter 2 - The Lions of the Valley - Part 1

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis /Stargate SG-1/ Hawaii Five-O (2010)

Relationships: John Sheppard/Steve McGarrett

Characters:  Steve McGarrett, Danny "Danno" Williams, Junior Reigns, Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, Joe White, Anton Hesse, Victor Hesse, Wo Fat, Clay Garcia (OC), Bradley Jacks, PO Higgins (OC), Kamekona Tupuola, John Sheppard, Mr. Smith (OC), Wraith (OC), Goa'uld Character(s)

Warnings : Crossover/ Canon Divergence/alternate Universe/Violence

Summary of the series:

The Ancients fled the Milky Way galaxy after annihilating the enemy they had unknowingly given birth to, themselves-  or so they thought. What if the enemy was still here? What if they are aligning themselves with others to regain power? Well, it was a good thing some of the Ancients left behind a gift; a legacy to prevent that exact eventuality, wasn't it? But will it be enough? An Alternate Universe where the Wraith originated on earth and the SGC have to pick up the pieces where the Ancients left off and continue the fight against the Wraith- since it's the survival of humanity that is at stake!

Summary of the chapter: The Lions of the Valley - Picks up the story where we left off Steve & his team, how they wrapped up their operation, and glimpses of what goes on the side of the enemy.

Beta — Salchat — She's the best!

Part - 1

Physical Training Facility, Naval Personnel Housing Complex

Bagram Air Base - Afghanistan.

Two days after Major John Sheppard's retrieval from Parwan.

"Whoa, what’s with the pummeling fest on the bag Steve?"

Senior Chief Petty Officer Daniel Williams swerved to avoid a face full of punching bag and wrapped his muscular arms around it, to stop it from returning to sender.

"Let it go, Danny," Steve said in irritation, glaring at his second in command. The man was interfering with his work out- well, that is if you could call the full-blown venting he was indulging in, raining kicks and punches on the bag in their gym- a workout.

"Now, how well do you know me, hah? You know it's useless asking me to do that. So tell me, what's bothering you, babe? Why are you feeling guilty?"

"Why would you say I'm feeling guilty? Maybe I'm angry!" challenged Steve, making a grab at the bag. But Danny wasn't letting go easily. And Steve wasn't honestly feeling like engaging in a brawl over a punching bag with his annoyingly perceptive friend.

In fact, he must have been at it for a while because he felt the exhaustion taking over, leaving him feeling drained. He started to unwrap the tape around his knuckles slowly.

"Well, you see that is because I do know you. Now, if you were angry, you would be in the ring, sparring with that crazy Jap, Noshimuri, kicking each other's asses to hell and back. Frustration would have taken you to the shooting range and there'd be many very-dead targets, shot through the head by now. This is where you come to, if the guilt is the winning contender in your crazy head. So I ask again babe, what’s wrong?"

The New Jersey native let the endearment slip in, whenever he was concerned about his young charge. Danny was six years older than Steve and had been in the Navy that much longer than Steve as well. Danny was given this freshly-out-of BUD/S, green as grass, young Lieutenant five years ago to keep alive. And then to train him in the field, if he could manage the first task. He had managed to do all that and remain Steve's 2IC throughout the years. The guy needed a steady and sane keeper.

Danny admitted to himself that the young officer had come a long way and had earned his respect and loyalty along with his friendship. The guy was as crazy as they came - laboring under utter delusions of bullet-proof superman tendencies- in Danny's humble opinion. But the guy had proven his worth and mettle under fire many times over the years.

The Lieutenant had a keen intelligence and the base nature of a hell-hound that was extremely useful when it came to tracking the baddies the brass let him loose on, disguised as missions. Danny had come to understand the obscure methods deeply hidden under the wild chaos that was Lieutenant Steven J. McGarrett of the Navy SEALs.  And to somewhat his consternation, Danny found himself devotedly invested in the said Lieutenant’s general well-being.

..........

Steve huffed and finished what he was doing. Then ruffled through his duffel bag until he found two bottles of water and sat down cross- legged on the mat on the floor near the workout benches. Danny was not going to go away anytime soon and he might as well get it over with now, Steve thought to himself. All mental bitching aside, he found that talking things out with his NCO, did help him more often than not.

Danny left the punching bag and came to sit down beside Steve. Steve gave him the other bottle of water and let out a sigh.

"It's Sheppard. I can't get it out of my head Danny. I keep hoping and praying that those people got to him on time. But from what little I saw... it was bad, man. And to think that our own people did that to him, that I fucking hand-delivered him for that ... shit."

He stuttered and came to a stop, his breath hitching. Danny had a comforting hand on his back.

"It's been what, two days now since those classified fucks disappeared?" Steve asked, giving voice to the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind. "There's only a skeleton crew there in that village now, the one they'd secured earlier, right? And another one, milling around looking for those two missing assholes, that had John. Nobody's telling me shit except for an all polite 'I'm sorry sir, It's classified'. I spoke to Joe too. He says he doesn't know anything either. It's not like I'm looking for goddamn state secrets here, is it? Just tell me where they took him and if the guy is alive or not... Fuck."

Steve was mortified, realizing that he had worked himself up to a full-blown rant. That was what Danny usually did. Steve was the stoic one. But the guilt and the frustration were eating away at him and he suddenly felt like he needed to go down to the firing range right the fuck now; ok- so Danny was maybe onto something there.

"Hey, I know you two were close. Hell, I helped nudge you two knuckleheads along to get your acts together and get into it. And I'm sure that he is being taken care of, Steve. I mean they sent a fully-fledged Colonel to the field, to a war zone, just to retrieve him. And they would not have done that, if they were not very keen on keeping the zoomie alive. Shep must be important to someone higher up there for something and you must believe, for now, that is a good thing." Danny continued.

"And Steve, you did what you had to do, babe. Arresting him and handing him over was the only play you could make with the intel you had at the time. We all heard Hart over the line, Shep could have taken off with all of them, and instead, he got crazy and ran away," he gave a moment to let that sink in. "Now, you told me that you believed this Sumner guy, when he said that Shep was away saving lives? Not running around like a maniac," Danny asked after the lengthy pause.

Steve gave a grudging nod.

"Then you've got to cut yourself some slack and believe me when I say that you did the right thing at the time too;" Danny took the nod as a yes and continued. "Colonel Sumner wasn't there then and they didn't train you on telepathy or precognition at Annapolis or Illinois or anywhere else. So there is no way you could have known what Shep was doing. Anyone of us in your shoes at the time would have done what you did. Hell, orders came from Joe to hand him over to that fucker at Parwan and you couldn't have disobeyed a direct order. You think Joe would have ordered you to do that, if he knew they were going to torture the man?"

Danny answered his own question after a beat. "No babe, I don't think so."

He seemed content to leave it at that, picking up on the reluctant agreement in Steve’s face, even though Steve did not say anything.

“Then what the hell happened to Freddie?” Steve asked quietly after a moment. “Who or what killed him and his team? And what the hell could possibly have made him sound so pissed scared like that? You knew him too Danny, it wasn’t like him at all!”

Danny contemplated his answer and let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it too. He did sound a little crazy on the line. But you’ve got to realize babe, he just crashed. Maybe he was a bit out of it? On the other hand, your Colonel said it was something to do with his mission and that they were targeted by something that we don’t know about?”

“Sumner said they believed Freddie and his team were compromised the minute that call went up in the air or maybe before even that.” Steve replied.

“Well then, there you go. There is so much classified shit around that chopper; we simply don’t know what happened. Maybe it was like the Colonel said or maybe not. We just don’t know. That’s the job Steve. We all know what we get ourselves into when we take on our missions. And things don’t always go our way and missions do go FUBAR. And then we die. We just have to hope that this Colonel of yours will find the people who were responsible. It was their op after all.” Then Danny brought up the matter of more practical and relevant issues. “Besides, we have our own group of assholes to worry about. You need to get your head in the game, Steve. That’s our mission.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a while. But he knew Danny was right. There really was nothing he could do for Shep or Hart right now. But he could do something about the bad guys he already had in his sight. That would have to be enough for now.

Danny let him just sit in silence for a few more minutes. Then he stood up decisively.

"Come along, grasshopper- let’s go get some grub. Maybe we can talk Kono into seducing one of the hush-hush fuckers to cave in and tell us something. Maybe it was your ugly mug that had them clamping up on you. Kono is way prettier than you. Fuck, even that Jap's got more charm; what with the husky bed-room voice and dimples…"

Steve felt his lips twitching involuntarily at Danny's muttered musings. He let out a chuckle and got up to follow his friend. His feelings were still dangerously close to the surface- but he felt somewhat in control of them. He was glad that Danny found him when he did; the man had a way of getting him out of his funk. He was not going to say any of that out loud though; it wouldn't help him one bit to let his NCO's head get any bigger.

Base Commander's Office, Bagram Air Base - Afghanistan.

Commander Joe White summoned Steve to his office the next day.

“Get yourself a coffee and sit down Steve,” he invited.

Steve did as asked, knowing that whatever came next- had to be quite important. Commander White was like a father to Steve and often mentored him; in both his professional and personal lives. But the Commander rarely indulged in private chit-chat while on active duty.

“I know you’ve been upset over the whole incident regarding Hart and that pilot Sheppard. Hell, I am a little upset myself.” He gave birth to the understatement of the day.

“I’ve had contact with Colonel Sumner. Now, I can’t tell you about whom he works for or what Hart and others were involved in. And I can’t tell you where Sheppard is or how he is either. Why? Because I don’t know. But, here is what I can tell you - according to Sumner, the chopper that went down with Hart and others was involved in one of their operations. They are investigating what happened to them still, because apparently, they were way off from their destination-”

Steve nodded along. This was what the Colonel had informed him while he was taking Steve’s statement as well.

“They're not sure yet if any foul play was involved from their end or how the enemy got to their transport in the first place. And they are still investigating everyone who was included in that operation.”

Steve bristled at the insinuation that Freddie might have been consorting with the enemy. He had known the guy for a while and been down range with him several times. He was pretty sure Freddie wouldn’t do that.

Commander White held up a hand to forestall the argument he could see coming his way.

“I know he was a friend. But it’s their op and they have to find out what happened. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that Sumner agreed to let us keep the bodies of the three SEALs with us. The team he has here will take the bodies of the civilians with them. He said that Hart and the other two SEALs were recruited in Canada. Apparently Hart was a part of the NORAD exchange. God knows how he managed that.”

Steve wasn’t sure whether his CO was referring to Freddie or Colonel Sumner. But he kept his doubts to himself and sipped his coffee.

“So he offered to return their bodies to the base in Canada, but I said we'll take care of it. That’s what I wanted to let you know. We have the bodies with us and I'll be making arrangements to return them back to the States within the week or so. I thought that maybe if you wrap up your mission here by that time, you can accompany them.”

“Thank you for arranging that, Sir.” Steve said with heartfelt gratitude. Escorting his friend’s body home was the least he could do for him.

With that he left his CO’s office to get back to the operation he was running. He was on the field team today, for the surveillance on the enemy base.

Naval Command and Control Center, Bagram Base - Afghanistan

Four days after Major John Sheppard's retrieval from Parwan.

Steve and his team found themselves gathered in the CIC (Command and Information Center/Command and Control) after dinner, for the day's review. Well, what was left of his team at the base anyway; since some of his team was still in the field. They were discreetly observing the activity in the enemy base they had tracked the weapons convoy to- earlier.

Thanks to several GPS trackers they had managed to install on the trucks, they now had the exact co-ordinates of the hidden base, the infamous Hesse brothers kept disappearing into.

……….

The SEAL team had been tracking the four suspicious vehicles, that split up from Kandahar and had been cruising all over the whole northern region of Afghanistan. The team had also split up, in order to tail each of them.

Finally, around about ten days ago, the vehicles, now full with illicit cargo of weapons, money, ammo and other assorted inventory enough to invade the whole country, had regrouped and continued towards the valley of Panjshir.

Anton Hesse had got into a truck along the way and continued with the convoy as well, which Steve considered an ad ded bonus. Wherever the elder brother was, the younger was not far behind and that saved them the trouble of locating the two assholes later. The convoy had continued until it ran out of the road and then into a barely navigable route in jungle terrain, leading towards the Hindu Kush mountains.

Continuing for about another day, deep into the jungle, the convoy had finally reached a small yet well-hidden base right up against the valley. It was located well away from the smaller villages scattered around Panjshir, but nestled quite close to Hindu Kush mountain range. Steve suspected that they probably had a network of cave entrances and even underground bolt holes, apart from the base they could see from the surface.

So nine days ago, this was where they were, when Steve had to divert to help the unfortunate Black Hawk; which then led to Sheppard's subsequent arrest.

Steve and his team had been taking turns in keeping up constant surveillance around the clock on the hidden base to get a feel of their operation. After the initial convoy they tracked, there had been three more arrivals. The brothers never left the place- but they were seeing the evidence, that somebody even higher up in the terrorist food chain had shown up. Only the previous day, the security had been beefed up all over the base considerably, after an armored SUV had delivered the said leader.

They had been gathering in the CIC every day since the discovery of the enemy base, to view all the information and footage whichever field team of the day managed to send through. They had been making plans for attacks; war gaming various scenarios and adapting the plans according to the changes that were happening at the enemy base.

……….

Today was different because their CO, Commander Joe White was present for the live review with them. Usually, Steve just handed over the day's report to him after the viewing session.

"Alright, listen up people!" Commander White called everybody for their attention.

"We've got the word down the line today. The mission's been green-lighted by the Naval Intelligence Command. They want your platoon to move in and shut it down.  The strategy is to kill or capture the two known targets and the unidentified target. Whatever other resistance, you deal with as you see fit. They want you moving within 24 hours. This is it, ladies, the operation 'Mountain Goats' is a go."

The only lady that was present at the CIC, Agent Kono Kalakaua tried her best to hide a snicker at that, but only partially succeeded. White sent her a look on his way out of the room. Steve could have sworn he saw a smirk on his Commander's face; but he was much better at hiding it than Agent Kalakaua.

Those two had a long debate going on about the silly little names the Naval Intelligence (ha ha) came up with, against the professionalism, the alphabet soup agencies displayed, with their use of alpha numeric IDs, for operations. And Steve was wisely staying away from it.

……….

Steve had been on the trail of these particularly troublesome Hesse brothers for a few months now; all the way back from India. He had followed them around half the world from India, Pakistan, Indonesia and Thailand before finally settling up for the long haul in Afghanistan.

The Naval Intelligence had caught wind of a strange deal going on- Victor and Anton Hesse had come up as big players. Therefore the NI had Steve on the field following them on ground discreetly, hoping to put a stop to whatever the Hesse brothers were planning. Although he was given the support of various SEAL teams available in every country he found himself in, Steve had managed to keep his second in command SCPO Danny Williams, Lieutenant JG Bradley Jacks, PO 1st class Junior Reigns, and PO 1st class Clay Garcia as permanent fixtures on his team.

Special Agent Kono Kalakaua of the Special Activities Division of the CIA, formerly of the DEA and with two tours under her belt as a soldier in the US Army before that, had been following a trail of arms deals when she had crossed paths with Steve. Realizing they were after the same terrorists, they had joined forces in Pakistan to continue the observations. She was a beautiful woman with Korean heritage and Steve thought he saw Danny always go a little bug eyed, every time she flashed her dimples at him.

Lieutenant Adam Noshimuri had come with Kono, as a package deal. He was an American/Japanese dual citizen with experience in JMSDF (Japanese Maritime Defense Forces) and Japan's PSIA (Public Security Intelligence Agency) and had been tracking a Yakuza connection to illegal armsdealing and smuggling. He had been seconded to the CIA almost a year ago, as part of a Japan-American Intelligence sharing venture. Kono and Adam had made a number of arrests and shut down some major smuggling routes. But the leadership of the enterprise had proven elusive. The CIA, in conjunction with its' Japanese counterpart, had given the blessing for the dynamic duo to join the SEAL team in order to get to the bottom of it. Danny believed that Adam was the calm, steady and reasonable presence to the wild hurricane that was Kono; much like he was to McGarrett.

Fourteen other enlisted SEALs from the Naval Base Bagram, including two more NCOs, completed Steve's platoon for the operation 'Mountain Goats'.

Navy SEAL Ready Room, Bagram Base - Afghanistan

The team was divided into four groups. Lieutenant Steven J. McGarrett had the overall tactical command of the operation and was going to be on the lead attacking team. He had four other SEALs and one Adam Noshimuri, whose field MO (Modus Operandi) was not that different from a real-life ninja.

Senior Chief Petty Officer Danny Williams would be leading a team into the base from the right flank and if anything were to happen to Steve, would be taking over as the ops lead. Petty Officer 1st class Junior Reigns had command of the team that would be attacking from the left.

These ground attack teams carried their standard primary weapons, HK MP7 4.6X30mm sub-machine guns with suppressors and Sig Sauer P239 subcompact 9mm hand guns strapped to their thighs, as secondary weapons. They all put on their standard body armor, night camo and face paint with their tac vests and field kits filled up with extra ammunition, several kinds of grenades, field med kits, comms gear, batteries, field rations and water. The team leaders also carried portable compact screens that they could use to tap into their night drone feeds that were observing the enemy base even now. They were all equipped with NVGs (Night vision goggles) and cameras with live feeds connected to their CIC, as it was the standard for any SEAL team raid.

PO Higgins was seen lovingly hugging his affectionately called Pirate Gun, a modified M79 grenade launcher as he carried it along with his standard kit to the helipad. The big man easily over 6’4" with a width to match, made the big gun look positively tiny and harmless.

Agent Kono Kalakaua, who was equally enamored and just as lethal with her beloved Sniper rifle McMillan Tac-338 that fired the deadly .338 Lapua Magnum rounds, had the lead of the snipers. She and three other SEALs made up the team that would take the 'Over Watch' position when they were at the field, keeping the asses of the ground team covered. Lieutenant JG Jacks, carrying an M82-50 caliber, extreme long range, anti-material sniper rifle and SEALs Garcia and Terrance with their MK-11 medium sniper rifles, completed the team. They also had special image intensifiers, thermal imaging cameras, and sound suppressors to aid the night vision and stealth.

……….

The three SEALs who were already at the enemy base conducting surveillance, would keep on aerial surveillance with the two drones they had in the air and would provide live feed for the team leaders and if the need be for the snipers to tap into, during the raid. They would also provide back up and act as field medics.

……….

After the order from his Commander, the whole team had gone over the objective and attack plan in detail. Steve had encouraged everyone to ask questions and state concerns. After two hours of intense discussion and planning, he had dismissed the team for a quick break with the order to be ready and report to the helipad at the west end of the complex by 0200 hrs. He had then gone to update his commander on the agreed plan. Joe White had given his approval, seeing that Steve and his team had everything covered.

West End Helipad – Meeting Point, Bagram Air Base - Afghanistan

0155 hrs

Being the professionals that they were, Steve found them ready and waiting eagerly, when he reached the meeting point at 0155 hrs with Commander Joe White in tow.

"Alright team, just so we are clear on the plan again. We go there, make sure the things are as they should be, go in hard and fast. We don't let them regroup. Stealth is the name of the game for the entry. You know what the Hesse brothers look like and we ID the other leader on the go. It's kill or capture for those three. And all the Intel we can get, we need to keep intact. That means keeping an eye on Anton, as he’s the tech guy. For the rest of the base, it's open season." He re-capped the quick and dirty version of the game plan.

"Go give them hell boys!" Joe White delivered the traditional order.

"Hooyah!" Came the enthusiastic reply from the platoon.

The Enemy Base, Panjshir Valley - Afghanistan

0245 hrs

The two Stealth Black Hawk helicopters had delivered the team some distance away from the objective due to the landing difficulty in the jungle terrain the enemy was based in. A half-hour trek through the jungle had brought them near the entry points and they were ready to begin.

Steve sent out a roll call.

His team, designated H1 through H5, stated each of their readiness into their comms. Steve was designated HL as he was the team lead.

Danny and Junior also had similar checks running through their own teams, designated R and L respectively. They were positioned at their entry points in right and left flanks and were ready to move on mark.

Kono reported to Steve the readiness of her team last when all of the snipers had dispersed and taken various Over-watch positions. They were perched on hills, trees and in Jack's case, on top of a Humvee parked at the highest point behind thick vegetation closest to the mountains. They had the enemy base covered from four positions and the three ground teams would breach from the points in between, providing each other maximum cover.

The ground teams would also change into hand signals after Steve's order to move in and only the snipers and drone teams would make verbal reports, keeping everyone on the loop. PO Higgins, acting as the team’s demolitions expert, would divert from Danny's team after the initial entry, to place explosives on strategic locations.

They would leave nothing behind when they were done.

Steve checked in with the ops controllers at the CIC in Bagram some 60 miles away, who were watching over the live feeds, for the final Go/No Go order.

"Hotel Lima, you are a go. I repeat you are GO." The confirmation came from the tech at the CIC.

Steve took a deep breath; sent a quick mental prayer to any god who watched over the crazy SEALs to keep his team safe and gave the order to move in.

The Lions of the Valley-Hidden Freedom Fighter Base, Panjshir Valley - Afghanistan

0300 hrs

Salim Khabir positively hated the night shift as a sentry. It was cold, humid and the mosquitoes would not leave him alone. There were three others guarding the main building tonight, sharing the misery with him; a fat lot of good that did...Not.

The flat-faced, dead-eyed, Chinese guy had everybody on their toes and Khabir had had to chip in as a guard, to keep up round-the-clock security. He was their official cook. There were altogether fifteen of them on duty tonight. Four for the main building, two for the storage shacks, three of them for the barracks where the soldiers were based and six patrolling the perimeter. And there were many others awake and guarding the miserable nights away inside the buildings as well.

"Shit. I had to draw the short straw again! What wouldn't I do to be inside the cozy guest house guarding that?" he thought to himself sourly.

"Whatever that Chinaman is about, he must be important. I have never seen the Hesse brothers cower away like that from anyone ever before," Khabir slapped at a mosquito on his forehead.

"Oh, I wonder what's up with all the hush-hush dealings going on in those caves? Nobody goes in there except for the brothers. And the weird China guy of course..." he kept up his mental dialog while scanning the surrounding area. It was a hopeless gesture though; the night was dark and the visibility was quite poor.

"And what the hell kind of name is Wo Fat, anyway?"

All the private musings that were keeping the hardships of the night sentry duty away, also kept Salim Khabir from noticing the red cigarette light, ten yards to his left, disappear into the night.

By the time he did notice, there was nothing he could do anyway. He may have opened his mouth to shout out a warning- but the knife across his throat put a stop to it, before the thought to shout even fully formed.

……….

Steve had sent Adam and Leonard to take care of the patrolling guards on their side of the entry. Those two had disappeared into the moonless night to neutralize the guards without breaking stealth. Two patrol guards with their throats slit and one guard shot in the head with a suppressed MP7 later, it was done.

Steve and his remaining three SEALs had silently trekked through the dark, while the patrol was busydying. They had gotten close behind each of the sentry guarding the main building- and all of them- including clueless Khabir, were dispatched thoroughly and quietly, with their throats slit open.

Steve then directed two of his SEALs to drag the bodies away while waiting for the team leaders to signal in, with clicks on the comms.

……….

Danny spared a couple of seconds to watch his two guys- Ruiz and Hicks- taking off after the two guards who had the misfortune to wander towards the entry point- where Danny and his team were positioned. The third guard held Danny’s full attention now. Poor sod had taken a detour into the thicket to relieve himself only maybe three yards off to his left. Danny waited patiently until the guy finished and tucked himself in; then blew his brains out with his suppressed MP7, point blank.

Signaling Steve and Reigns with pre-arranged clicking codes on his comms, he moved his team towards their target, as Higgins went away to plant his deadly gifts.

……….

Team leader PO Junior Reigns was listening to the signal of all clear/moving in from Williams while watching his point of entry. Lt. Jacks, the sniper who was closest to him and had the birds' eye view of Reigns' entry, was giving him a terse report.

"Six patrol guards are down. Reigns you are clear to move. You've got two at the shacks and one moving from the barracks towards them. You got about thirty seconds to move before the third joins the party-"

Reigns directed Jones and Derrick to take care of the stationary guards and moved towards cover behind the shacks, to meet the arriving guard. He heard the soft gurgles that erupted from the dying guards and then the swish, as the bodies were dragged aside by his team. He observed the arriving party getting a little bit agitated and waving his torch around, as he couldn't see his fellow guards where they were supposed to be. Junior had seconds to act before the guard panicked and raised the alarm.

He took his k-bar, calmly took a breath, and sent it flying. His aim proved true as the knife found its mark, burying itself deep in the third guards' throat.

He signaled his advance as the rest of his team joined him after tucking the bodies behind the storage shacks.

……….

The smaller building they had identified earlier as the point where the base security was coordinated, was tucked away to the side of the main building. Danny's team had the task of breaching and securing it while Steve and his team breached the main building from its entrance and exit simultaneously.

Danny directed Bryce and Klein from his team to detach and reinforce Reigns' team according to the plan- Junior had the unenviable task of breaching the barracks where the terrorists slept.

Danny, Ruiz and Hicks made their entry through the only door the security hut had. Hicks, who was on point, mule kicked the door and Ruiz threw a frag grenade. They entered, leading with their MP7s and the still stunned and confused enemy had no hope of putting up a reasonable resistance.

There were ten of them in all and within ten minutes all of them lay dead where they were with shots to the chests and heads. Danny then got busythat with the computers. He inserted the data retrieval units they were all issued prior to the raid by the Naval Intelligence Command for this purpose. The NIC was anal about collecting every scrap of data they could.

Ruiz quickly cleared the rest of the building while Hicks kept watch.

……….

Steve, Riley, Wilkes, and Nelson positioned themselves at the front entrance of the main building as Adam and Leonard made their way toward the exit. This team had to be cautious with their entry because it was suspected that the leaders were housed in the upper section of this two storey building. They breached at the same time Danny's team did, to preserve stealth to the last possible minute. Wilkes kicked the door in and the grenades were thrown in. Steve heard Adam and Leonard making entry through the back as well.

Gunfire erupted as the confused and injured guards started firing blindly. Steve took cover behind an upturned sofa and returned fire, covering his fellow SEAL’s entry. They moved in tandem covering each other and within seven minutes, they had cleared the ground floor of the mail building. Eight enemies lay dead with kill shots to heads and chests.

Meanwhile, Kono reported in, saying she had taken care of two guards upstairs. Both were unfortunate enough to move towards windows wandering into Kono's cross-hairs. Taking the stairs that was the only way up from inside was proving difficult, now that the enemy was up and alert. But the element of surprise and shock and awe tactics were still working to their advantage, keeping the enemy somewhat confused. Steve managed to shoot down two more as they peered down from the upstairs railing.

Then five of the enemy got organized and positioned themselves behind cover from above to block the SEALs from gaining the upstairs. Steve waited until Adam and Leonard joined him. He then signaled Adam, who nodded in response.

Both of them popped from the cover they were behind and lobbed two grenades in perfectly timed simultaneous throws; both grenades sailed in elegant arcs and landed near the two clusters of enemies upstairs. The SEALs were already moving and at the base of the stairs when the grenades went off, killing the five targets instantly.

Steve and Adam got to the top together and Steve turned left while Adam turned right. They had three main rooms to clear on the second floor.

Riley and Nelson followed Steve to the left with Leonard and Wilkes following Adam to the right. Steve moved cautiously with his two SEALs flanking him, clearing closets and bathrooms. When they reached the bedroom door, it exploded outwards showering them in wood splinters. They all ducked on reflex and rolled to find cover.

"Come on you mother fuckers!! Come get me, I dare you. You fucking cunts!!"

They all heard hysterical screaming and swearing coming from the room. They had found Anton Hesse. It made things easier for them. If Anton was here screaming at them, he was not busy deleting their databases.

"Come out with your hands up Anton. It's over." Steve calmly ordered while keeping his weapon pointed at the door.

Sound of a breaking window was followed by a report from Garcia on the Over Watch. Anton had tried to take a leap off the balcony and Garcia had firmly discouraged the notion.

Anton Hesse did not come out with surrender as ordered. He came out shooting his shotgun in a blazing arc trying to catch the SEALs in a sweep. It was a dumb thing to try to use a shotgun as a machine gun and he only managed to make a couple of massive holes on the walls and a wooden closet door. Steve and his team were again showered with splinters, pieces of bricks, and dry plaster of walls but none of them were seriously harmed. Steve took careful aim and shot the maniac on the thigh. Anton let out a squeal; dropped his gun and then dropped to the ground hugging his injured thigh, wailing miserably.

Riley calmly secured Anton Hesse while Nelson quickly patched the wound with a field dressing. They would properly treat it after they had him transported back to Bagram. The field bandage would keep him from bleeding out and going into shock.

Steve was about to order them to take him to their exit point when Garcia came on his comms again.

"Boss, I've got movement. One bogey on the roof moving fast towards the back of the building. He is making a run to the caves. I repeat bogey moving north on the roof top. I do not have a shot."

The urgency of the report had Steve running into the room Anton had just vacated. He ran into the balcony and jumped on the railing. Using it as a step to propel himself up, he managed to grab hold of the rainwater drain at the edge of the roof. He hauled himself onto the roof and took off running after the enemy, whom he could see already gaining distance. He had a feeling this might be the third and the unidentified target.

He barked orders to Nelson and Riley to secure the prisoner and take him to the exit point while on pursuit. He ignored Danny's shouts through his comms to wait for goddamn backup before running after maniacs by himself. Steve knew Danny would follow and get to him on time anyway, despite his bitching.

……….

Adam, Leonard, and Wilkes were having a relatively easier time compared to Steve and his team. They were clearing the right-wing, when they came face to face with Victor Hesse. He had a bomb strapped to his chest and a dead man's trigger clutched tightly in his right fist.

"Now, just lower your weapons and raise your hands."

The older Hesse ordered calmly with his German-accented English. Seeing Adam and the two SEALs obeying his order- boosted his confidence.

"I will be slowly walking out of here, down the stairs, and out of that door. And you will let me- otherwise, all of us go to hell in an ugly boom, and sort our shit down there in front of the devil." He informed them with an arrogant smirk.

Adam tracked Hesse's slow movement towards the stairs with a slight smile. When his mental count reached six seconds Adam said "Ouch."

Victor Hesse had about a second to wonder about the strange reaction to his seemingly working plan to get away. Then he heard a splat and felt a spray of liquid on his face. His brain went offline for a moment and when it came back online, he registered a bloody stump where his right fist used to be. The dead man's trigger and his right fist lay scattered to tiny pieces on the floor. His eyes rolled back his head and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Ouch is the word brah." Said Kono in Adam's ear jubilantly.

Adam kneeled down by the passed-out Hesse to put a tourniquet and wrap up what was left of his hand. Wilkes slowly divested Hesse of his deadly ornament now laid on his chest harmlessly. Once finished, Adam directed Wilkes and Leonard to take Victor Hesse away and join the other two from Steve's team. Adam himself took off with the intention of finding Steve. He had a feeling Steve was going to need help.

……….

PO Junior Reigns and his team were engaged in a fire fight with enemies in the barracks. One of them somehow had woken up before they could breach and alerted his buddies. They had barricaded the entrances to the complex and started shooting at Junior and his team. EneThe enemymy had the cover of their building and Junior’s team was scattered around the building behind whatever cover they could find. They had both the entrance and exit of the building covered and had already killed three enemy combatants who tried to come out of the building. Now they were locked in an impasse; with Junior’s team outside and the enemies inside.

Junior popped up from behind the truck he was taking cover and took a couple of shots at the enemy who was aiming at a running SEAL. Derrick was moving from his cover to get behind another nearby tree. The terrorist ducked inside and Derrick made it behind cover safely.

Then Reigns spotted the man he was waiting for. Higgins had been busy planting explosives. He had just finished the shacks and the security hut and was moving towards the main building when Reigns signaled him to divert towards him behind the truck instead.

"Ah Junior, you want me to break up the tie?"

PO Higgins was all smiles realizing he was getting to use his Pirate Gun, the modified M79 grenade launcher.

"Yes, Higgins. If you would please do the honors,"

Reigns gestured him with a sweeping hand and took a step back to make space for the big SEAL and his big gun. He signaled his team to take cover and cover their ears.

Higgins took a knee, aimed his grenade launcher towards the housing complex, and let loose.

Four strategically placed shots from the Pirate Gun later; the housing complex was reduced to half-collapsed rubble. The terrorists, suffering from various injuries, came spilling out and it was shooting fish in a barrel for Junior and his team then.

Higgins took a mocking bow and sauntered away to complete his original mission.

……….

Danny cursed when he heard Steve taking after the bad guy all by himself. He hurriedly directed the rest of his team to finish data retrieval from the security hut and then continue to the rest of the available

identified data points to keep gathering everything they could. He then took off after Steve, berating him about the back-up all the way.

……….

The target had continued his mad dash over the roof, taken a running leap onto a truck that was parked below, rolled off its' hood and continued running through the thicket towards the mountains.

Steve caught up to him just as he was stepping into an obscure area that most probably led into a cave or a tunnel system. He didn't want to lose the guy in a maze; so he took a couple of shots on the run, trying to steer him away while closing the distance.

The man was quick on his feet as he veered away and continued running alongside the hills still aiming to take his chance disappearing into the jungle. Steve matched his stride and vector and put on a burst of speed.

Then the man somewhat surprised Steve, as he changed direction again; this time running straight at Steve. Caught off guard, Steve went down with his target on top of him in a tangle of limbs.

They fought fiercely. The bad guy didn't waste time raining punches on Steve's face while trying desperately to grab his gun. Steve held on to his gun with all his might and managed to aim an elbow to his opponent's face. The man took it on the jaw and rolled with it; when he disengaged from Steve, he had Steve's MP7 in his hands.

The man got to his knees in one smooth motion and aimed the gun at Steve's face. His finger tightened on the trigger and a smirk graced his face.

What he didn't realize was that when Steve aimed an elbow at his face, his other hand was going to his hand gun which was strapped to his thigh. That move loosened Steve’s grip on the MP7, letting the bad guy have the weapon.

So by the time he rolled off Steve and took a knee to aim Steve’s own weapon at him, Steve already had his hand gun tucked close to his chest, aimed at the smirking asshole's face.

A second later, the bad guy fell to the ground face-first; a neat hole in his chest, because Steve had changed his aim at the last second to keep him alive.

……….

Adam and Danny both made it to Steve at the same time. They had been directed by the drone team to his whereabouts. They found their leader kneeling by the fallen body of the bad guy, with both his palms pressed against a bleeding wound on the bad guy’s chest.

Adam contacted the medics for the field stretcher to be brought in to transport the man while Danny took time to fuss over Steve, to make sure the SEAL wasn't about to keel over from an undisclosed wound as well.

……….

Calls were made and the choppers were brought in. They had space to land at the enemy base which was now firmly under the SEAL's control. All three wounded targets were transported to Bagram along with the medics and one more SEAL to keep an eye on them.

The rest of the team dispersed around the base to secure everything. The hard part might have been over; but they still had to go over everything to take inventories, to make sure they didn't miss any data they could retrieve, and to sweep the area for any stragglers hiding away.

After two hours of thorough search throughout the base, Steve was satisfied. He called his team to the chopper that was patiently waiting to take them back. They all got in and once the bird climbed high enough in the sky, Steve called Higgins to deliver the coup de grace.

The Petty Officer gleefully pressed the buttons in his remote detonator. Explosions rocked the enemy base in answer, taking in all the illegal weapons, ammo, buildings, and bodies and turning them into dust and rubble.

Lt. Steve McGarrett congratulated his team on a job well done; boisterous hooyah's were shouted in reply.

The Lions of the Valley was no more.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word Count: 2300 Summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 1

Even as a very young child Madara had understood that someday he would be the Head of his clan, that he would be responsible for the safety and protection of his people. It was a responsibility that he had taken seriously even back then and that hadn’t changed as he had gotten older. Madara was twenty-seven years old now, Head of the Uchiha clan, and co-founder of the village of Konohagakure. Every member of his clan knew without doubt that Madara would protect them with his own life’s blood, defend them, uphold their honor.

What he hadn’t banked on was babysitting duty.

Hashirama had laughed at him when he first found out. Who better to trust with the safety of one’s child than the clan Head? Madara would have loved to know who came up with the idea first so that he could banish them from the clan. What did he know about children? He was a man built for war and battlefields, not for entertaining tiny children or singing lullabies.

Worse was that the children seemed to adore him and he didn’t quite know what to do with the ones that ran at him with high pitched squeals only to latch on to his leg and stare up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Was he supposed to shake them off? Did others somehow manage to walk around like normal and just leave them there to hang? And at what point was he allowed to fight back when they began to crawl up his body as though he were some sort of training post that they were determined to reach the top of?

No one seemed to want to answer any of these questions when he asked them, preferring to simply laugh in his face. Not that he dared to ask anyone besides Hashirama. It was bad enough that his clan seemed to suddenly come under the impression that their Head could be used as a free babysitting service; he didn’t need anyone else in the village knowing about this atrocious soft spot in his otherwise armored personality.

So when Madara found himself alone in his house with a squalling newborn he knew there was only one person to go to for help. He’d never been entrusted with anyone under the age of four before. How exactly did one make this noise stop? The bottles the mother had left with him seemed to garner no interest, talking did nothing but cause the thing to scream louder, and despite a large amount of reluctance he had even peeked in to the cloth diaper to ensure it was clean. He’d never heard anything like this in his life. Within an hour his head was pounding and Madara was forced to give in.

He was going to need Hashirama’s help.

Of course, there was absolutely no way that Uchiha Madara could be seen traipsing through the village with a cute, squishy little baby in his arms. His reputation would be in tatters before he even arrived at his friend’s door. Hoping against hope that it was safe to do this with a child at this age, Madara held his little bundle tight to his chest with one hand and made a seal with the other. The body flicker carried him right to Hashirama’s front door and he bolted inside with more speed than he typically might have used in a fight.

He would have felt a little bad about bringing this level of noise in to someone else’s home, especially so early and without any warning, but he figured that if he had to suffer through this then Hashirama should have to as well. The man of the house met him before he made it halfway down the front hall, sleepy looking and sporting a bewildered look on his face. As he took in the source of the noise that had broken in to his peaceful morning, bewilderment slowly changed to a cross between shameless amusement and soft fondness. Madara very much hoped that soft look was for the baby and not for him.

“You’ve got a baby,” Hashirama cooed. Such was Madara’s headache that he didn’t even bother to make a sarcastic comment about the other man’s observational skills.

“How do I make it stop?” he ask desperately.

“Make what stop?”

“The sound! How do I make him stop crying?”

Hashirama laughed, crossing his arms and leaning one shoulder against the wall. “Well he woke me up so everyone else is certainly awake. I give it a few more seconds before this problem solves itself.”

With his left eye twitching, Madara opened his mouth to tell Hashirama exactly what he thought of his stupid cryptic answer – he detested cryptic answers – when another door a few feet beyond them opened and Tobirama stepped out.

Only, it was Tobirama as Madara had never seen him before. His hair stuck out at wild angles, mussed from a night of sleep that appeared to still have a lingering hold on him. His eyes remained closed as he slowly shuffled towards the other two men, footsteps heavy and arms above his head in a spine cracking stretch. His shirt was twisted and his sleep pants were just that little bit too long so that his feet trod on the edges of the material.

Hashirama and Madara watched him come closer, seemingly drawn by the noise, and neither of them said a word when he came to a stop in front of the desperate Uchiha. His arms reached unerringly for the child, plucking him from the other’s arms and cuddling the little baby up close to his own chest instead. Madara’s jaw nearly unhinged itself with shock when Tobirama began to hum, strolling away down the hall towards the living room.

Feeling as though he might be caught in a very strange genjutsu, Madara trailed after him to find the younger man doing laps around the couch, humming quietly and swaying gently with every step. The man who could bring entire armies to their knees just by scowling, who had a standing Do Not Engage order in several countries, was bouncing around the living room singing a baby to sleep. If his enemies could see him now they would fall to their knees laughing yet he didn’t seem to have a single care in the world. There was even a gentle smile on his face, eyes open now and looking down at the small body in his arms.

Even more miraculous was that it was working! Awe filled him as the piercing wails rapidly petered out until all he could hear was a deep voice humming a tune which tugged at nearly-forgotten memories. When a tiny voice cooed and gurgling in an inquisitive manner, Tobirama gave a low chuckle.

“So who’s this then?” he asked quietly, scrunching up his nose to make the baby giggle.

“I dunno.” Hashirama shrugged. “What’s his name, Madara?”

Tobirama’s head lifted at that, looking around until his eyes fell on Madara. The two of them stared at each other with varying levels of surprise until Tobirama blinked and looked back down at the baby he was holding.

“Uh…is this…yours?”

“Yes.” Madara shifted on his feet. “Well, no. Not mine. He’s – his name is Kagami. His parents are on a mission. And he wouldn’t stop crying. So I thought…” He trailed off as one of Tobirama’s eyebrows slid upwards.

“You thought Hashirama would help? Have you ever seen Aniki with a baby? Last time someone let him hold a child he cried.”

From across the room Hashirama pouted with a half-hearted, “Hey!”

“I can’t say I would have expected you to be much better,” Madara pointed out what, to him, was obvious. Tobirama rolled his eyes, seemingly unaware that his body was still swaying rhythmically from side to side, rocking the baby as little Kagami continued to coo.

“Oh, Tobirama loves kids!” Hashirama beamed over at his best friend as though this statement wasn’t in direct conflict with the rest of Tobirama’s public persona. His younger brother huffed as though offended. Then he ruined the image by absently tickling the baby’s belly and looking down with a smile when Kagami giggled.

“Shut up,” he murmured without much heat.

Madara wasn’t sure if the gurgling noise he could hear was coming from him or the child. If he had to guess based on the look Hashirama was sending his way, he thought it might be him.

It just wasn’t fair. How dare Senju Tobirama look anything even close to resembling the word ‘cute’? How dare he stand there all rumpled from sleep with a babe in his arms and look like everything Madara had ever wanted in a partner? And how dare he spark a sudden revelation that Madara’s loins were only too enthusiastic to agree with? He certainly hadn’t signed up for any of this bullshit today and he found it incredibly unfair that he was having to deal with both a crying baby and a sudden attraction to someone he thought he thought he had decided to hate for life.

Stupid sexy Senju. What it in their genes?

“I should probably go,” Madara announced after clearing his throat. He wanted to deal with this as far from here as possible.

“Aww, you can’t even stay for breakfast?” Hashirama whined.

“The child needs to be fed as well, Aniki,” Tobirama pointed out. “Unless you happen to have some breast milk laying around, Madara is correct. He should probably go.” Hashirama a brilliant shade of red and shook his head no.

Madara wondered for a brief moment if it was worth trying to pretend that Tobirama was just being practical. It didn’t last long. Chances were that Tobirama wanted him gone just as much as he wanted to go, although for different reasons. As much as he had always professed hatred for the younger man that sentiment had certainly been returned just as ardently every time. Developing a crush on Tobirama would not be the best idea he ever had and Madara absolutely did not want to go down that road if he could help it.

As he accepted little Kagami back from the one who had soothed him, however, and took in the soft expression on Tobirama’s face while he said his silent goodbyes to the cute little bugger, Madara felt the urge to sigh. Evidently he’d already gone down that road at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. He was overwhelmed with the desire to have that soft fond look directed as him.

He was doomed was what he was.

“Feel free to bring him back any time!” Hashirama waved to them cheerfully as he retreated towards the front door and let himself out. Madara didn’t bother to answer, just sent one last scowl over his shoulder as he let the door shut behind himself. He body flickered back home the moment he was outside and passed the wards that Tobirama had built in to the Senju’s main family household.

By the time he had scurried back in to his own home Kagami had fallen asleep in his cocoon of blankets. The first thing he saw upon entering was Izuna in his kitchen riding his fridge. Madara stood in the doorway with a harried look on his face as his brother straightened, assuming a worried expression and asking what was wrong with a tilt of the head. Madara dropped his head back with a low keening sound.

“Why me, Izuna? Why me?”

“What happened?” His sibling looked down at the sleeping form he was holding. “Long day huh?”

Still careful of his fragile burden, Madara wobbled the three steps it took to reach the table before collapsing in to one of the chairs and closing his eyes. If he tried hard enough, could he convince the ground to open up and swallow him? He had no idea how he was supposed to help run a village with someone he’d only just realized that he was apparently attracted to. They already fought like cats and dogs on a regular basis; this could only make things worse.

“Did something happen to Kagami?” Izuna tried again, worry audibly increasing in his tone when he didn’t receive an answer.

“No. Well, sort of.” Madara groaned. “He wouldn’t stop crying. So I took him to Hashirama and-“

He paused, eyes opening to give his brother an incredulous look when the younger started laughing, hand over his mouth to muffle the noise so as not to wake the baby.

“What, pray tell, is so funny?”

“Y-you took a crying baby to the Senju household before the sun was up?” Izuna’s words were interspersed with uncontrolled giggles. Madara glared.

“What of it?” he demanded.

“I’d bet my favorite sword it wasn’t Hashirama who helped you out.”

The suggestive wink, Madara thought, was entirely unnecessary.

“How did you know that!?”

“Oh come on.” Izuna gave him an unrepentant look. “Everyone knows Tobirama loves kids.”

Madara growled and gnashed his teeth together. He hadn’t known that. How did Izuna know that? Admittedly, he did usual try to avoid the man like he had the plague. That probably left very few chances for Madara to see him interact with children.

“You’re supposed to respect your elders, Izuna. If you’re just going to mock me then you can leave.”

“Oh, wait, I think I know what happened.” Izuna ignored his bristly words and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with a vicious grin. “Finally figured out you’ve got a crush on him, huh?”

Madara dropped his head back again with a loud whine. Izuna laughed and Madara made a mental note to murder his little brother.

Right after he had dug a hole and buried himself in it.

[montrealroleplay2]

GANNON O’AHEARN

Age & Birthdate: March 23rd, 1982 (34) Birthplace: Syracuse, NY Location: Mont Royal Occupation: Homicide Detective Gender: Male Sexuality: Homosexual Length of Time in Montreal: 11 years Faceclaim: Ian Somerhalder

trigger warnings: – death, murder, mental illness, drug mention

Gannon was barely five years old when his parents died in a car crash. Not being present, he believed what his grandparents told him - that it was an accident, and that his mother had swerved to avoid pedestrians crossing the street. He’d seen photographs of the accident in the newspaper before he was able to read. It was right in the middle of the old town square where a fountain had been erected. Flames rose up from the crushed front end of a Volvo, and beyond it loomed Town Hall. His older brother (who was nine years old) had been in the car when it happened, surviving with nary a scratch. Kieran had been an exuberant kid. Bright, and engaging. Kind to his kid brother, always involving him and keeping him neatly tucked under his wing. After the car crash, however, he caved in. Nightmares hounded his sleep, warding off dreams. A sour disposition and a detachment to everything ruled him. Even as young as Gannon was, he noticed the recoil. When he looked in his brother’s eyes from that point forward, he didn’t see grief or even anger. He saw hate.

Living with their grandparents wasn’t a hard transition to make. It seemed they had been coming over more and more frequently before the death of their parents. Gannon missed his mother and father, but his young age seemed to shield him from a lot of the suffering that plagued those around him. He was adaptable, for the sake of survival.

Though he was the younger child, he seemed to get less attention from his grandparents. Their focus was forced onto Kieran who’d begun to lash out in unpredictable and terrifying ways. It started with fights at school, disobedience, rebelliousness. This led later to staying out all night, fiendish lying, petty crime, and drugs. Fear that he was going to crash and burn just like his mother and father, there were countless interventions, therapy sessions, stays in high-priced rehab centers. Despite the chaos, Kieran relied on his younger brother for support; their bond was never sullied by outside circumstances. Unfortunately, nothing Gannon did kept his older brother safe and at home where he belonged. All the begging and pleading went unheard. It was like some demon had nestled inside of him, and it demanded self-destruction. When Kieran turned 18, he moved out the little brick house that had become their home. He was not heard from for 4 long years.

This loss hit Gannon a lot hard than the loss of his parents. Not only did he lose his brother - who even in his darkest moments seemed to harbour a softness for his younger sibling - he became the focus of his grandparents’ worries. They blamed themselves for Kieran’s behaviour, and tried to compensate by enforcing very strict rules on Gannon. They were hard on him, constantly demanding he push himself in order to not end up like his brother. His grandfather, a World War II veteran, even enforced disciplinary tactics he had learned during his service. Because of Gannon’s malleable disposition, he flourished under the scrutiny, and graduated high school at the top of his year. Graduation day had been eagerly anticipated if not because it meant freedom, but because it meant embarking on his life’s journey. He had been accepted into the Air Force Academy, and would be leaving in a few, short months. Joy should have marked this day in Gannon’s memory, but instead, it was all cast in shadow by a visit from his older brother.

Gannon spotted him standing at the back of the crowd. A black smudge in a mass of smiling faces. After the ceremony, he cut through the crowd like a determined bullet, ignoring calls of congratulations, and pats on the back. Kieran was half-way across the parking lot, trying to flee the scene, when his younger brother caught up to him, and snagged his arm. Kieran looked at him with red-rimmed and haunted eyes before expelling a truth that had poisoned him for thirteen long years. Their parents’ car crash hadn’t been an accident. Their mother, Charlotte, had slammed her foot on the gas pedal, and turned the wheel sharply into the fountain. She had been struggling with her mental health, and it was slowly beginning to consume her. In that moment, she decided the fight was over, and steered herself, her husband, and her young son toward their certain death. Kieran witnessed it all from the back seat. Under the tree near the baseball field, Gannon fell to his knees in shock. For the first time since their death, he cried.

After learning this, Gannon’s outlook on life grew cynical and bitter. He had to learn how to live with the betrayal of his mother (and of his grandparents). It became another passenger in his life, glowering at him from across the room, following closely behind him as he walked. The truth changed him. He grew obsessed for a short spell, researching articles surrounding the incident, demanding answers from his grandparents that they simply couldn’t offer. His investigation finally uncovered evidence that his mother had developed manic depression, and had been in and out of the hospital for years before she’d died. Though Gannon couldn’t remember specifics before age 5, he could remember stints of her not being around, of her very extensive and weepy goodbyes before she would go. The fleeting hope that Kieran was lying, that this was all a nightmare, vanished and left him cold. Suddenly, he understood the hell his brother had been marching through all along, and couldn’t understand why he chose to go it alone.

Though he graduated from the Air Force Academy with high marks, he did not pursue offers from the FBI, the CIA, or the Navy SEALS. Instead, he followed a low-key offer to Montreal to become a homicide detective. He has been there ever since.

❝ you forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget.

Gannon is very loyal and protective of those that he cares about (in his own way), though he has trouble trusting anyone wholly after learning the truth about his parents’ death. The abandonment of his brother doesn’t help this either, and has made it difficult for him to commit to relationships. He tends to put people on trial for wanting to get closer to him, and that usually either scares them away or creates animosity. Once a relationship is established, however, he holds steadfast to it and won’t deviate. He’s generally amiable, though his scathing wit and blunt way of communicating can sometimes rub people the wrong way. He spent a lot of time pleasing others - his grandparents and brother, his teachers at the Academy - and won’t do it anymore. He demands honesty from people, and anything less is grounds for dismissal from his life. His work takes a toll on him, particularly when he sees orphaned children and mental instability. When he’s dealing with particularly difficult cases, he can become withdrawn and argumentative. He may even instigate a fight. He’s got a hawk-eye for false sentiment, and can’t stand superfluous bullshit. Though he believes in keeping up standards and having a measure of personal pride, those that obsess over these things are usually met with some hostility from him. He is a relatively patient man, and throws himself mercilessly into his work. Though he comes off as a bit of a prick (maybe even arrogant) to some, his main motivation is helping people.