#you guys liked the way i draw twilight a lot holy shit

[rachel-morrigan]

Twily doodle I forgot in my folder💔

[kholnt]

Welcome to the fandom! I'm very curious to see what type of lu fan you are, as it's always great to see the diversity of people that enjoy any given thing.

I saw you're a fan of Wild, and you've read some fics and such, are there any that you'd recommend to someone that wants to get to know a bit more of his character? I'm biased to Legend, as he's easier for me to draw, but I've been wanting to dive deeper into the personalities of the others in the chain, particularly Wild, as he's set up for a lot of character growth in the og comic.

And as an offering, here's a sleepy Wild and a happy doggo! (My pen died while I was drawing, and it's not clear, but he's holding a pillow)

WAHHH SILLY GUY!!! I LOVE!! HEEMS SO!! as for me, (in general when it comes to fandoms) i tend to post art and that's usually what i do publicly. or respond to stuff that i'm sent by friends. in REALITY however i am very much a brainstormer. the amt of ideas rattling in my head at any given time is CRAZY. i dont tend to post my in depth ideas because like. its too hard to explain man. me n @/eponatheestallion have made an entire au with arcs n character development in the past two days bc i asked a silly question idk if thats the kind of answer you wanted but yk !! as for fics!! gods ive read like. ~300 fics in the past *checks watch* 17 days (holy shit i have a problem what the fuck) so lets see what i can recommend specifically bc you bet i dont remember allat!! spider meet fly/fly meet spider - totk swap au from wilds perspective!! (not lu but still really good :)) ) the worldbuilding is,,, mwah things that go unnoticed about hyrule - this entire series of oneshots eats but this one is probably my favorite. hyrule & wild bonding but in the You Get It way

it's me wild! find me in the future! - wild stays for totk and the chain goes through the stages of grief live. i just??? enjoy the characterization for this???? everything that didn’t kill me - basically a 50 things that wild told the chain how he got his scars. this one is here for the whimsy. while reading i literally went "I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND" bc of some of the things listed also happened to me while playing botw. this one isnt serious in the slightest only the wild ones - the chain meet wild at various stages in his life. big brother twilight baybeeee mixing our history into our batter - aurora and wild bake together. this one just made me happy dude idk its just full of whimsy and silliness from castle town to ordon - wild is socially anxious, rich, and a menace, more at eleven i'm a riddle in nine syllables - the chain are ghosts that help wild on his adventure. i read this one real recently and i!!!! yk?

im sure theres more but like. this is me quickly(ish) scrolling through my history and pointing out the ones i distinctly remember enjoying and arent the other two fics i already reccomended

[poisonintopositivity]

(My Very Own) Top 20 Sterek Fics

Here is my very own Top 20 Sterek Fics (out of order)

For me, these fanfictions are a “MUST READ NOW!!!” kind of deal. These authors have so much talent, it’s incredible. These stories are just marvelous and deserve LOVE ! So, I decided to share them with you.

I’ve read most of these fics several times and some of them are even my bedside table books (with Harry Potter and the Prisonner of Azcaban and Jane Eyre)

So here we go!

1:  Enemy Lines by @qhuinn -  150k - Explicit - Dystopia - Enemies to friends to lovers - Action/adventure

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

2:  Actions Speak Louder than Words by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 435k - Explicit - The BEST and slowest burn there is - Spark Stiles/Mute Derek - Friends to Lovers

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

3: Radio Tower by @hyperlittlenori - 130k - Explicit - Dystopia - Hope - Slow Burn/Build 

Everything was different. The world he knew was gone. It’d been a long time since he’d started thinking he was probably one of the last humans on earth, that out there the only sentient beings were those that would devour him whole. He wasn’t sure why he continued with the radio broadcasts, continued to talk into nothingness. The only explanation was that there was a spark of hope in him yet that he wasn’t alone. The lonely safety Stiles has built around an old radio tower in the middle of nowhere is about to be broken. Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is a harbinger of chaos or hope at the end of the world. 

4:  The Hollow Moon by @thepsychicclam - 180k - Explicit - Fix-It - Memory Loss - Slow Burn/Build

It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all.

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

5 :  Amor Fati by @alocalband  - 43k - Explicit - Consent is sexy - First Time - Fluff & Angst

When Stiles gets thrown into the bank vault about twenty minutes after him, Derek isn’t even surprised.As it turns out, neither is Stiles.

6 :  (not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit - 33k - Explicit - Shared fantasies - Angst with a happy ending - hotdamn! 

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

7: What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm - 119k - Explicit - Wolf!Derek - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

8:  Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by @devildoll - 77k - Explicit - Captivity - Feral!Derek - Angst with a happy ending

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

9 :  What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 196k - Explicit - Soulmate - Slow Burn - Misunderstandings 

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

10 :  taste your beating heart by @cinematicnomad​ - 112k - Mature - Pack Dynamics - Slow Burn/Build - Stilinski Family Feels

Something was wrong in Beacon Hills. Derek was halfway across the country when he felt a call to return to his hometown, and somehow Stiles had been talked into letting the werewolf stay in his guest bedroom. This could lead to nothing good.

11 :  between the click of the light and the start of the dream by @thepsychicclam 105k - Explicit - Pack Dynamics - Getting Togheter - Fluff & Angst

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

12:  And You Say You're Alone by taelynhawker - 30k - Explicit - Pack Dynamincs - Bad Friend Scott - Romance

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

13:  Trust Fall by Stoney - 144k - Explicit - Body Swap - Hurt/Confort - Slow Burn/Build

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused.

Of course.

14:  Gravity's Got Nothing on You by @zosofi - 84k - Explicit - Fake/Pretend Boyfriends - Humor - Romance

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

15:  Every Step You Take by @nokomiss - 49k - Mature - Magic - UST - Secret Feelings

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

16:  Baking My Way Into Your Heart by theSilence - 179k - Mature - College AU/Coffee Shop AU - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new.

17:  Windows by @drgrlfriend - 83k - Explicit - Blind!Stiles - Friends to Lovers - Found Families 

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

18 :  Just to See You Again by MellytheHun (@loserchildhotpants​) - 15k - Explicit - Love Letters - Getting Together - College AU 

A sterek college!AU where writing student Stiles specializes in love letters, runs a blog about it and can be commissioned to write love letters on behalf of lovers who are at a loss for words.

He makes some cash, he’s good at what he does (especially when he gets to be a little more explicit in his letters), it pays for his textbooks and that’s all he’s really looking for and life is fine. That is, until someone anonymously commissions him to write a love letter to mathematics student, Derek Hale.

19:  Chasing Slumber by @hyperlittlenori - 21k - Explicit - Post-Nogitsune - Porn With Feelings - Fix it

Stiles finds solitude and a glimpse at recovering from his ordeal with the Nogitsune in a dingy motel far from Beacon Hills. Inhuman blue eyes follow his silent struggles in the darkness of the room and he can no longer pretend to sleep, pretend he hasn’t been profoundly changed by all that has happened. He can only let his fingers stretch out across threadbare but clean sheets and clench around them, in a failed attempt at not reaching for Derek.

20 :  the thread is ripping by @thepsychicclam - 36k - Explicit - Pinning - Angst with a happy ending - Flashbacks

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn't include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

If you are interested, feel free to check out my Sterek Fic Recs Collections on A03.

On this lovely note, happy reading guys!

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

'birds of prey': a cinematic masterpiece

It's been a little over a year since Birds of Prey came out, a couple of months since I watched in on a whim, and I'm still not over this film.

Too many men people get pressed whenever you say you like this movie. "It's objectively bad," they say. "It's campy. It's too divergent from the canon. It's SJW propaganda."

Who gives a fuck, Richard? Who gives a single flying fuck?

I'll preface this by saying, my knowledge of the DCU is flimsy, at best. I've watched a couple of movies. My mum used to watch Smallville. I watched the pilot episode of Gotham. And I know enough about it to get the few references sprinkled in other media. But I draw a complete blank when it comes to the comics. So the canon of the comics had no effect on my enjoyment of the movie. Which I did. A lot.

I walked in blind when I watched Birds of Prey for the first time. I was unaware of the controversy surrounding it, and the only reason I even gave it the time of day was because I was bored.

I watched Suicide Squad circa 2016, and positively abhorred it- the only good thing about it was the soundtrack (the best songs are always wasted on the worst movies. Case in point: Twilight). And the not-so-casual misogyny was just... Yikes.

And then, we got Birds of Prey.

Since watching the film, I did a bit of research (see: Googling 'birds of prey movie reviews' and clicking on the first few results that popped up). The response was mixed- which honestly came as a surprise, since I thought it was great, and mine is the only opinion that holds weight.

I've read and watched a lot of those reviews. I watched the CinemaSins video. I watched the CinemaWins video, because CinemaSins has taken a major nosedive since I first started watching them.

Were all the negative reviews not-so-subtly indicative of the (predominantly male) critics' misogyny? I dunno; how did they talk about similar male-centered action films? I don't think it's fair to scream, "SEXIST!" just because someone didn't like the movie. Critics hated Venom (which was admittedly pretty meh. I still enjoyed it, though), but it was still pretty well-received by viewers.

I saw one review say that Birds of Prey was 'for the birds'... I'll let you unpack that yourself.

And yet, though I try to keep an open mind, I find it unfathomable how anyone can dislike Birds of Prey.

One of my favorite parts about the movie was the female gaze present throughout its entirety. I've seen people bring up the obvious change in Harley's costume- which I'm a bit iffy about, to be honest. Don't get me wrong- I love her choppy bangs and fun pigtails and the whole fluffy top thing she's got going on, but a whole lot of the critique towards her getup in Suicide Squad comes off a tad too slut-shamey (that isn't a word? Well, it is now).

Her outfit wasn't the issue. It's how she was framed.

In Suicide Squad, we get loads of shots of men leering at Harley, and a little too much emphasis on her breasts and arse in almost every scene she's in. As opposed to Birds of Prey, where Harley's still sexy (I'm seriously concerned for the straight men who found Harley unattractive in this film... You good, Pete?), but we focus on her face instead.

That part where Harley gives Canary a hair tie in the middle of a fight scene? Brilliant.

The characters have depth (a lot of reviews disagree with me. Well, what do I know? I am but a lowly STEM student). One of my favorites was Canary (and not just because I found her insanely attractive)- I love, love, love her arc in the film.

I've seen people complain that the villain didn't really get all villainy until towards the end of the film; which, if Sionis had to put on the mask for you to finally see him as the bad guy, then you've clearly missed most of the film. He's literally introduced while he's peeling the skin off of someone's face. Not to mention that one particular scene at the club- I won't go into too much detail, because it could be triggering to a lot of people- but it chilled me to the bone.

Following up with the villains: "All the men are bad guys," they say. "The whole film is feminist propaganda," they say.

And me posting this on International Women's Day is a bit on-the-nose, I'll admit, but this particular critique bothers me. Because those men aren't unrealistic. They aren't caricatures of men in the real world. We all know men just like them. A lot of them hit a little too close to home for me.

I've seen people complain that women touting the film as feminist turned them off from it- which, I dunno about you, but seems problematic to me on so many levels. Sure, not everything has to have a political agenda, but it's hardly like Harley & Co. scream, "GIRL POWER!" every three minutes.

(Also: it's funny how way more people get mad about poorly executed feminism than actual issues a lot of women in the world face, but that's a topic for another day.)

The diversity was just- wow. Getting not only one but FOUR Asian characters with lines? Hollywood, am I dreaming? The LGBTQ+ representation (not going into Sionis and Zsasz being queer coded)? Holy shit, yes! Maybe I'm getting too excited about this- Hollywood's a lot kinder to us minorities as of late- but it still fills me with joy whenever I see people like me onscreen.

Another complaint that springs up with regards to Birds of Prey is the skewed order in which Harley narrates the events. Which is kind of one of her defining traits- she's an unreliable narrator. And she makes it pretty obvious (this video explains it better than I can). The cartooned beginning was engaging, as corny as some of it was (loved the style, too).

The fight scenes were thrilling to watch. Not a single minute passed by where I was bored (my eyes usually glaze over during prolonged action scenes in films, which did not happen in this case). The comedy was well-timed and bold; the cartoonishness added to its charm.

And this is probably not even significant, but I adored the color scheme. I loved the bright, shocking colors; the emphasis on the pinks, reds and blacks.

And, finally, how could I go without mentioning the soundtrack? It was divine- I listen to the Birds of Prey album on Spotify almost every day; Lonely Gun and Experiment On Me are among my most-played songs, and the rest of the music is just as delightful.

In conclusion: go watch Birds of Prey if you haven't already. It's the closest thing to a spiritual experience I had last year.

[lovelypersona]

Sunday (Akira Kurusu x You)

A/N: holy shit im writing for persona again who saw that coming!!! 

Word Count: 3,400+

Summary: You used to be friends with all of the Phantom Thieves. But now? You aren’t sure where you stand in their life as you sit in the diner, stood up once again. 

Commission Me

Where have you been?

Been searching all along

Came facing twilight, on and on,

Without a clue

Without a sign…

The rain comes down in thick sheets outside, the water smacking down on the roof and windows of the diner you sat in, undisturbed and dry. You had luckily made it in on time before the downpour started… but the seat across from you remained empty. 

Truthfully, as sure as the weather, you had expected just as much that he wouldn’t show. Akira, though only a high schooler, same as you, seemed unusually busy. Plans always seemed to fall through… but it seemed he always had time for the other friends he met along the way. Friends that you met, too, and you felt like you belonged with. Friends that were all dear to you- but maybe you weren’t as dear to them. 

You sigh as you run the tips of your fingers against the rim of the coffee mug in front of you. It’s been empty for quite a while, and the coffee tastes nowhere near as good as Boss’s. You were upset that your friend had decided to be a no show again, but you can't bring yourself to be disappointed. As stated before, you weren’t expecting anything different. 

Maybe it was silly to keep this charade going, you think. Maybe it was time to finally face the facts. 

Without grasping yet, 

The real question to be asked…

Where have I been?

You were beginning to feel like a porcelain doll. Fake smile, pretty hair… fragile and right about to break if shoved to the side.

Which, unfortunately for you, this was exactly the case since you met Akira. You could feel you weren’t ever a priority for him. Always shoved to the side… to be dealt with later at a more convenient time. It begs the question- what on earth was Akira’s priority anyway?

You had accepted since that rainy Sunday spent alone in a booth that you would never get an answer and your friendship with the entire group of misplaced misfits would never get better. If they wanted to brush you off… you figured you would do the same. Smile, say the right things, do what’s expected of you at the moment… but not a lick more than that. It was only fair. Why give and give when you are never given back? 

You felt hollow like a porcelain doll, too.

I’m a shapeshifter at Poe’s masquerade, 

Hiding both face and mind, 

All free for you to draw.

I’m a shapeshifter, 

What else should I be?

Please don’t take off my mask, 

Revealing dark…

“Has anyone noticed something off about ___ lately?” Makoto is the one to bring it up during their meeting in Le’Blanc. Everyone exchanges glances and nods and the student council president sighs. 

“They’ve seemed… I don’t know? Less spunky?” Ryuji scrunches up his face in confusion. 

“I’d say less energetic,” Ann butts in, “less… like ___. Like they’re trying to be someone else.”

“Withdrawn,” Akira says simply, the one word like the final puzzle piece everyone needed. Ryuji lights up. 

“Yeah, that’s it!” And then he dims down again. “But why?” 

“You don’t think something happened, do you?” Futaba fidgets in her spot, frowning and Makoto softly rubs her back. 

“It’s possible,” she sighs. “But I don’t know what it could be.”

Yusuke hums, a contemplative look on his face as he cups his cheek. “They don’t have family troubles, do they?”

“I don’t know a lot about their home life…” Akira says, and everyone else seems to feel the same. 

“Well, what do you guys know?” Morgana looks skeptically across the room, stretching his back lazily on the table. By now, he’s expected an answer, but as he looks at the group, he sees the lost expression everyone wears. Morgana’s ears droop back. “...I think that’s the issue.” 

Indeed. 

Moments of calm

Nothing left to be found 

A mirror right in front of me; 

That’s where I find an empty glass

Reflecting the sad truth,

It’s telling words not to be told...

Your grades were never the best, but they haven’t been getting better. They’ve taken a long steep dive into No Coming Back- This is Bad territory, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You never really cared about school what with their corrupt system and unfair teachers anyway- you only came for your friends. 

But you don’t really have friends anymore, so… 

You don’t know why you keep going to school if it’s only to look out the window and fail tests and wish you were anywhere else but there- seeing the people you love, being in their reach, and yet never being spared a glance. 

Home isn’t much better either. Your father basically hates you, always has, and he hates your grades- he thinks you’re a failure and he makes sure you know it every time you come home. 

You know you’re a failure.

For a second, you thought you weren’t. You thought, hey, I can do this. I can be someone- something-- if I can be with them.

But they’re gone, and they took a sacred part of you with them, so now you’re stumbling and trying to piece yourself back together. 

But you have no idea how.

I need the mask.

You don’t really care for Sundays. School isn’t in, which means you can stay home with your unhappy father or you can go outside and be all by your lonesome. Of course, the answer is always to go outside- you can’t stand the stiff and horrid energy your father gives, making anxiety swirl in your stomach all day. 

You’re wondering where you could possibly spend your day when an unexpected ting comes from your phone. 

Even more unexpectedly, it’s from Akira.

Akira: Are you busy today? 

You purse your lips and wonder what he could possibly want. 

You: Why?

---

Akira and Morgana sigh at your response. “That’s not really a good sign, is it?” The cat looks worriedly at the phone and Akira frowns. No, it’s not, but at least you replied, right?

“Just keep trying,” he huffs and types on the keyboard, trying again.

Akira: I wanted to hang out, all of us. Morgana misses you.

Said cat smacks at his hand, claws out and all and Akira yelps. “What?!”

“You can’t even give them the simple knowledge that you miss them, too?!” 

“Well-”

The phone buzzes, taking his attention away from his angry partner. 

You: Oh. I don’t know, don’t you guys hang out a lot? I don’t want to intrude.

You: If you wanted to hang out with someone, you should ask the people you really want to see.

Needless to say, his heart sinks. 

---

Akira: I asked you because I want to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t lately. 

You: Do you even remember last Sunday?

Akira: Why?

You: Then you don’t. You wanted to ‘hang out’ then too, but not with me. You had time for everyone else, but couldn’t even give me a message to stop waiting for you in the diner. 

You: Stop acting like you care when you don’t.

Sent at 9:33am.

---

There’s a hot, sizzling, awful feeling inside your stomach that reminds you of anger as you shove your phone in your pocket and continue to walk aimlessly around Shibuya- but with a lot more power in your steps than before. There’s another feeling besides that, just beneath the anger- a watery, upset and guilty feeling. You know you shouldn’t have snapped. 

How unlike you, right? 

You have to remember to play the part, don’t you? Act like you don’t care, act as a friend, act like you’re okay, act, act, act act act act- 

Your phone is buzzing but you can’t bring yourself to look at it as you- unknowingly- make your path to the diner and inside. You aren’t even aware that you’ve ordered a coffee until the kind waitress with sympathetic eyes places it down in front of you. 

A watery, broken sigh escapes you as you hide your face in your hands, trying to quell down your crying, but you can’t. Silently you weep alone in the corner of the diner, shoulders shaking and composure breaking. 

I’m a shapeshifter, 

Chained down to my core. 

Please don’t take off my mask, 

My place to hide…

“Why’d you call a meeting so early?” Ryuji yawns from his place on Akira’s couch. Futaba doesn’t look much better, more or less falling asleep as she leans against the blonde. Makoto rolls her eyes. 

“It’s 10.”

“Way too early,” Futaba groans, her eyes drooping before Akira smacks the table. The sound is enough to wake everyone up, standing alert and ready as they look to their leader. He drops his phone on the table, free for everyone to see as he frowns deeply. 

“We have a problem,” is all he says. 

It doesn’t take long for everyone to read it and for the facts to sink in. “Last Sunday…” Haru speaks. “It was raining, wasn’t it?” 

“Which means we probably went to Mementos…” Makoto raises a hand to her forehead, a guilty look on her face. 

“What do we do?” Ann questions, nervously tugging on her pigtails. “I… don’t think this is going to be easy.”

“The fact we barely know anything real about them and we still managed to let them down isn’t very encouraging,” Yusuke says. 

“I hate to be the one who says it,” Ryuji stiffens up, “but what can we do? Mementos, palaces… it’s bigger than them. We have to do this. We can’t help that they aren’t a part of it.” 

Everyone glares at him, but only because they know that he’s right. Except for one.

“You’re all hypocrites,” Akira hisses through his teeth, his expression furious as he gestures to his messages on the phone. “You all make time for someone! Makoto, you still talk to Eiko, and Ann still makes time to visit Shiho!” The leader angrily pockets his phone. “We all have somebody outside of this- this thing we’re trying to do. I thought you all cared for ___. Are they really so easy to push aside?” 

And yet, something curls unsteady in his stomach. Whispers in his ear, are you free of blame? Didn’t you do the same? Wasn’t it so easy to forget they were ever around?

Akira feels sick. With himself and with his friends. He knows it’s probably just the stress of school and the deadline- but their implications toward their friendship with ____ just--- he couldn’t believe it. 

“I’m going to go see them. I’m going to fix this. They deserve more than what we’ve been giving them.” 

What he has been giving them.

——

Alone in the diner, you begin to dwell on the past. It’s something you do a lot because it’s easy- the present is so sad and hard, so you’d rather think about another time when things were better. You still remember how you met Akira- and by meeting him, you eventually met everyone else. 

He had been studying in the library. Makoto was there too, she always was, but she had a fine way of tuning everyone out as she absorbed herself in her studies. She didn’t hear the relentless whispering from all around the room- all targeted at the new boy. But you did. 

How can anyone focus with all this noise? You watch him carefully- it’s a little hard since he’s hidden behind a cubby, and you feel a little creepy for trying so hard- but you want to know if he’s bothered. Does he notice how people talk to him? How can he stand it?

Do you think he’s studying, or do you think he’s planning his next crime?

The voice reaches out a little more than the rest- when you glare at the person it came from, they don’t seem to notice or care. And then you look back at Akira- you notice how his pen has stopped moving and his shoulders are stiff. 

So he noticed it, then. 

You knew what it was like to be rumored about and bullied. It’s not hard to become the butt of the joke in school- kids are judgemental and mean, it’s just what they do. But this seems too unfair… can’t you do something?

Without realizing it, you’ve walked up to Akira’s cubby and tapped on his shoulder. He merely looks up at you, a concerned look in his eye that you don’t blame him for.

“Hey, if you want to study without any noise…” You slowly start, “I know that the club room on this floor is empty right now.” 

There’s a nervous beat in your chest as you offer this to him. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way- you don’t want to get rid of him, you just want to help. You readjust your school bag on your shoulder as he refuses to respond. “Anyway, that’s where I’m going. You’re free to use it, too, if you need to.” 

Surprisingly, he stands up immediately, gathering the loose books in the cubby and putting them in his own bag. You wonder for a second if he’s about to dash off before he turns to you, a sincere look on his face. 

“Thank you. I’d like to go somewhere quiet.”

And that’s how it all started- simple as that. An act of kindness for your schoolmate turned into frequent study sessions in the empty club room, which gradually filled up with more people as the months went by. That’s how your friendship with them all started. It wasn’t the most exciting story, but you look back on that day and the ones it followed with a sad smile. 

The club room is no longer filled with the rowdy group after school. Eventually, it was just you- and then you couldn’t bear to be there alone anymore, and the club room became abandoned and cold. 

Thinking about it makes you want to cry again- but you think you’ve worried the poor waitress serving you enough today. It’s already a little past noon, hours flying by without you noticing it, and you should probably head home for the day. Nothing is waiting for you here. 

As you call the waitress and fumble for your wallet, the door of the diner slams open- hard- catching everyone’s attention as a dark-haired boy rushes through. Your eyes are wide as you realize who it is.

It’s Akira, and rather abruptly, he heads right for you and sits in the booth seat across from you. His cheeks are flushed and hair is unusually wild as if he’d been running, but he grins at the waitress even as he’s out of breath. “I’ll have a coffee, please,” he says. 

“O-okay,” she’s about as confused as everyone else, including you, but she hurriedly walks away with Akira’s order and the people in the diner collectively begin to mind their own business. 

Now it’s you and him- in the diner sat in a booth, on a Sunday- exactly what you were supposed to be doing before. But this time, it’s not raining. 

“You look like you ran a marathon,” for some reason this is the first thing you can think to say. Akira laughs, subtly fixing his glasses and smoothing out his hair as he does. You didn’t mean it in a bad way- he looks handsome either way. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I just ran everywhere I thought you might be until I found you.” 

Right. You had put your phone on silent. Wiggling it out of your pocket, as soon as the screen turns on you see dozens of messages, all from Akira. You instantly feel bad, but before you can say anything, Akira’s hand reaches across the table and covers your phone, forcing you to put it down. 

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I get it. I, uh,” he stutters, “I wouldn’t want to answer me either if I were you.”

“What are you doing here, Kurusu?” You ask him before you don’t have the guts anymore. Being here with him… It makes you anxious. You forgot what it was like to talk to him. 

Your choice in name visibly upsets him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. You feel it’s appropriate- you hadn’t talked in such a long time, you no longer felt that you should use his given name. It doesn’t feel right. 

“I wanted to see you,” Akira says. The waitress suddenly appears with his order, not saying anything as she quickly leaves after his quiet ‘thank you’, and then he continues. “I wanted to apologize for not being around lately… We’ve all noticed that you’ve been acting differently- but- we didn’t do anything. And I’m sorry.”

“Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” you frown, your eyes stinging as you look at the table. 

“I know it doesn’t… but I needed to say it. And I wanted… to spend today with you, if you’d let me. I want to fix it.”

You know he’s sincere- Akira doesn’t lie, not often anyway. He doesn’t lie to you- to his friends. Immediately, you want to say yes- please be my friend again, please make it feel better. 

But you can’t. 

“I can’t,” you say. “I… it doesn’t work like that. I can’t be your friend again while knowing I might not be your friend tomorrow, the next day, or next week… You just disappear, Kurusu, you all do. You all disappear and I don’t know why, but I can’t stand it.” Your hands wring together on top of the table nervously, your heart beating a bit too fast. You hate admitting it to him, but you can’t deny it anymore- whatever they’re doing, you’re not a part of it. It’s so painfully obvious that they don’t trust you, and it makes you feel like shit. 

Akira seems to be at a loss for words. The two of you sit in an upsetting silence- you want to apologize and make him feel better, but you can’t do that anymore, so you stay quiet. 

“Every… every Sunday,” Akira starts. You look up at him slowly. “Every Sunday, I’ll be here. And I can’t promise I can always bring everyone with me, but I’ll… I’ll be here. All day.” 

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” you sigh and he quickly shakes his head. 

“I do mean it. I told you- I want to fix it.” 

His hand reaches out again, softly grasping one of your own clammy hands. “I can’t tell you exactly what we’re doing… But I can tell you that the group and I… we’re doing something, and it’s dangerous. It’s exhausting. And I don’t want you to be a part of it because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

What… on earth does that mean? Your chest feels heavy as you hold his hand back, worry in your eyes. What are they doing that would make him say that- make him look so upset and tense?

“But I still want to be friends with you- you’re dear to me. I don’t want to lose you because I made the mistake of getting caught up in other things.”

You’re dear to me. 

Those words seem to break you apart. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry again today, but the tears fall before you can even catch them. You sniffle pathetically, holding Akira’s hand tighter as you cry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. Before you realize what’s happening, Akira is standing up, moving around the table so he can sit beside you, still holding your hand. 

“Don’t be.” He whispers, his other arm wrapping around you and holding you against him. 

And it’s been so, so long since you felt this wanted- it breaks you all over again and you continue to cry, basked in the warmth that is Akira as he refuses to let you go. “Every Sunday?” You ask him, quiet and meek. A part of you is embarrassed to have him see you cry like this, but most of you is too overwhelmed to care. 

“Every Sunday,” he promises. And even though maybe you shouldn’t… you believe him.

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Alone Together Ch 3

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311754/chapters/54522319

Chapter summary:

“The Eyes…” Hyrule’s voice whispers from between clasped arms.

Suddenly, Hyrule throws his head up and away from his knees, eyes large and faraway. His eyes flick left right left right, somewhere or some when else. He reaches out a hand to no one but the rain. Then, slowly, far too slowly to be natural, he turns too bright eyes first to Legend and then Four.

“The Eyes of Ganon are everywhere.”

Somehow, the rain gets colder.

Or: A series of fics focused on Four and his interactions, inside and out.

Four usually enjoys the rain.

Most would probably assume he wouldn't. Rain meant high humidity, which often meant having to crank his fires even higher in order to fight off the cursed moisture that affects the melting point of metals. Rain also meant less people wandering the dirt roads beyond Hyrule Town, ergo, less people coming in to buy or commission weapons.

Some might also assume he hated rain due to his– uhhhm– reduced stature and its apparent susceptibility to the cold.

But the people who assumed that would be wrong.  Every single part of Four finds joy in the rain.

Part of him loves it for its practicality; the way he can easily open a window in the forge to let out the hot air, making it easier to breath. A breath of fresh air to cool his lungs from the smoldering heat.

Another loves it on principle, an excuse to get out of the forge and spruce up around the house while they have less people bursting in and messing everything up holy Hylia why are customers the worst? why can't they put shit back? it's all organized by species! they KNOW this sword doesnt go here! why the FUCK would they put it here???

A third likes its soft presence, a gentle staccato heard peripherally as he reads. The way it patters unobtrusively yet universally throughout the house as they go about their separate work. Something unifying even while apart.

The last loves the results; warm, creamy tea by the fire with the others maybe followed by a run through the puddles outside if he’s good enough at guilt tripping them with puppy dog eyes.

All of him loves its smell and the cool, refreshing feeling it leaves in the air, battling away the overly warm winds common to his Hyrule.

So yes, Four usually enjoys the rain.

But not right now.

Right now it sucks.

It is absolutely pouring and has been since they had set off from their cave that morning.

They’re in Hyrule’s Hyrule– Goddesses, that sounds stupid C’mon thats not nice– headed toward what the traveling hero had called a nearby town.

A nearby town that is apparently more than a three hour walk away.

To be fair, he did say ‘relatively nearby.’  Stated plainly. Flat but at least diplomatic.

A fat lot of good that does us now. Sniped back, pissed for the sake of being pissed at this point.

Four sighs, making sure not to let his annoyance pull his face into a scowl. He knows it's no use getting angry at anyone. It was either walk through the rain, or stay in the cave until the inclement weather let up.

One entailed a cold but ultimately painless three hour walk. The other, being in an enclosed space with 8 other versions of himself for an unknown period of time.

He knows which one he would choose any day. No one needs a bored Wind and Wild with access to unlimited bombs. Or Warriors and Legend forced to share close quarters with no end in sight. Or Twilight and Time animatedly discussing farming techniques for hours with no escape.

Not even the Triforce of Courage would make him brave enough to face that.

Doesn't mean I have to like it… Agitated but calmer, the ocean’s surface settling after a storm.

Now if only this storm would let up.

Four swipes a hand across his face for what feels like the millionth time that day, brushing away the droplets of water threatening to drip into his eyes from the ridge of his eyebrows. Pin pricks of not-quite-pain flare across his cheeks as more freezing rain whips against his already cold skin.

There is a dull ache in his head courtesy of the ponytail he has pulled his hair into. It sits at the back of his head, soggy and drooping, pulling at his scalp. However, the smithy makes no move to remove it from its tie. He had gotten tired of tucking away the sopping wet curtains of hair at around the one hour mark of their walk.

He’ll take the slight headache over wet hair perpetually in his eyes and mouth, thank you very much.

He, unfortunately, can't do anything about his tunic. The patchwork cloth hangs sodden and heavy from his frame, slapping against his forearms and thighs as he trudges behind the others. His boots are likewise sopping wet, water squishing up between his toes with each step. It feels like he's walking barefoot through a freezing swamp. Uncomfortable and vaguely disgusting.

To put it shortly– Oh, fuck off– he’s having a terrible time.

But at least he’s not alone in that department.

From his vantage point near the back, Four can see Hyrule as he leads the group, normally fluffy brunette hair slicked back and stuck to his skull as he treads onward determinedly. Even from behind, Four can tell that his arms are crossed tightly over his chest. Whether it’s from concern, habit, or to ward off the cold, he can’t tell.

Legend and Sky walk behind the traveling hero, almost shoulder to shoulder with one another as they plod onwards. An unusual pair to be sure. Well, at least it would be, if Sky hadn’t divulged to Four earlier that morning that he was taking it upon himself to keep Legend in line for the day. The already snappish Link could blow his gasket at the drop of a hat on a good day, let alone their current circumstances.

But even Legend would think twice about losing his cool with Sky, and the chosen hero knew it. Not enough people give Sky credit for his machinations, the short hero muses as he watches Sky throw a disarming smile and an unheard comment to the pink haired hero, who looks like he's grinding his teeth to stumps with the effort of keeping his snark in check.

Weaponized kindness is not something to be underestimated. Four should know; part of him wields it just as effectively against the others– a hot knife through butter.

Come on guys, I’m not that bad. The words themselves indignant, but undercut with a warm tinge of self-satisfaction.

Easy for you to say. You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of your disappointed looks. Breezes back, flashes of the exact face blinking into existence behind Four’s eyes. Warm amber eyes clouded over and brows furrowed. Freckled cheeks drawn in and lips pouted.

Four feels himself shutter and not from the cold. Yeesh, just the thought of it makes him feel bad.

I just don't like hearing him cry is all. Words grumbled.

Oh, you don’t have to convince us. Tone that of pointed indifference. A verbal nudge in the ribs.

For once in your life, shut up! Voice rising quickly like the tide. More embarrassed than actually annoyed.

Softy. Comes the definitive response, three different tones shaping the thought.

Four shakes his head, a slight smile finding its way onto his face despite the circumstances. Sometimes it paid to have four distinctive thought processes running at once, if only to derive enjoyment from three of them ripping the fourth to shreds.

A wet slapping noise draws Four’s attention away from the teasing massacre currently occupying his mind.

Next to him, Four can see Warriors trudging with a weary expression on his face. His normally majestic scarf hangs heavily from his neck, sopping wet. With each step, the cloth smacks into the back of his legs, the source of the noise that had alerted the smithy.

Warriors seems to have had enough of it, because he takes ahold of the part of the scarf wrapped around his neck and swings the cloth around to secure it more tightly against his throat. In his annoyance, Four can see that the older hero has used more force than he had probably intended.

Oh no It’s his own fault There’s no time to warn him This is gonna be good.

Four watches with mounting– excitement? apprehension?–  anticipation as the water logged cloth sweeps around and around Warriors’ neck before the end of the fabric reaches the Captain’s unsuspecting face, slapping him with a resounding wet clap.

The older hero freezes in shock, the sodden scarf remaining stuck in place for a moment before slowly sloughing off his face, leaving an absolutely shocked and sputtering expression in its wake.

The Pretty Boy glances around to make sure no one saw that and catches Four’s gaze locked on him. Blue eyes widen into a pleading look.

Four lets the corners of his lips raise minutely.

Oh yes. He did, in fact, see that.

The captain lets out a quiet groan and speeds up his steps, head ducking lower as the tips of his ears turn a faint pink.

Four forces down the laughter threatening to escape his lips. Better to let the Captain stew in embarrassment for the moment and bring it up later, when he’s not expecting it. Preferably with Legend present.

Karma for all the ‘kiddo’ jabs and short jokes.

What goes around, comes around.

Like a wet scarf? Four’s left eye twitches, a wink almost slipping from his brain into real life.

I hate that I’m associated with you.

You aren’t just associated with me. You are m– Shit!

Though his toes are numb from the cold, Four can feel as his left foot slips too far forward, gliding across the rain slicked grass like it’s ice. His right foot sweeps forward automatically, trying to stabilize him, but only succeeding in sliding forward as well.

A jolt of sick anticipation wells up in his stomach.

So much for having dirt on Warriors.

But before gravity has its way with him , a warm hand reaches out and pushes between his shoulder blades. After a moment, Four’s boots finally find purchase back on the ground, stabilizing the short hero before he falls flat on his ass and slides down the small hill they are on.

“Careful,” Time says as he steps past the now steadied smith, words flat with an odd mix of weariness, irony, and humor. “It’s slippery.”

Before Four can thank the older hero for the save, there is a shout of “wait!” and two blue blurs of movement rush past Four’s other side, close enough for him to feel the splatter of water and displaced air brush against him as they do.

A trail of boisterous laughter follows behind the blurs. As the two descend down the hill, the shapes resolve themselves into Wild and Wind, one standing upright on a shield while the other rides sitting down on his like a sled.

“Yeah, Four!” Wind’s voice shouts, giggly and growing fainter as he speeds away. “It’s slippery!”

Wind and Wild’s laughs mingle and fade as they reach the foot of the hill, both boys splashing into more runoff waiting for them at the bottom. Sky and Legend, standing too close, jump back a shade too late and end up with water sprayed up onto their pants.

Well, pants and bare legs respectively.

Thats what he gets for not fucking wearing pants.

Four watches as the pink haired hero lets out a hiss, furiously (and futilely) wiping at his legs while Sky simply leans down and helps Wind up from the puddle with a fondly exasperated shake of his head.

With a roll of his eyes and a grumble, Legend steps up to Wild with a hand outstretched to ostensibly help him up as well. But, as the scarred teen reaches out to take it, Legend’s face scrunches, a smile with too many teeth splitting his face and he stomps down, throwing water into the younger hero’s face.

For a second, the smithy thinks Wild will lash out with a splash in retaliation, but the scarred teen simply wipes a hand down his face and then grins up at Legend.  

Quick as a whip, Wild grabs the veteran hero’s hand with two of his own and yanks.

Legend lets out a squawk and goes face first into the water.

Wild scrambles out of the puddle and out of the danger zone of Legend’s flailing arms, laughing as he does. Wind greets him with a high five while Sky watches on with a small smile.

Hyrule steps forward to help his predecessor out while trying to quell the smile on his lips as he does. No need to piss off the pink haired hero more.

As Four watches this all unfold, Twilight finally comes to stand next to him. The man sighs and Four glances at him as they begin to trudge down the hill together. The farmhand’s shoulders slump under the weight of his sodden pelt. He looks exhausted. And he smells like wet dog.

His face is tired but as he looks at the others– Warriors, Wind, and Wild laughing, Legend glaring from over Hyrule’s shoulder, Sky and Time looking on, not offering to help in the slightest– as he looks at them, something about the elder seems to soften and  the bags under his eyes seem to lighten, if only a little.

“I swear,” he says, voice airy with an exhale as he shakes his head. “Those kids are going to kill me.”

“Ah, youth,” Four agrees with a sage nod.

Twilight glances down, giving Four a dry look despite the wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

…

It only takes a few moments for Four and Twilight to reach where the rest of the group waits for them.

Now that Four is paying more attention to his surroundings instead of keeping his head bowed against the rain, he can see that they are walking down into a small valley between two hill ranges.

What Four had thought was just a large puddle that Wind and Wild (and Legend) had fallen into is actually a small stream that cuts in and out around the mounds of dirt. It babbles lightly, slightly swollen with the newly added run off from the surrounding hills.

Twilight clears it in a single stride.

Show off.

Four follows, but needs a small hop to avoid the water.

Hyrule smiles as they finally draw near.

“We’re close now!” the traveling hero says. He points over the crest of the hill they stand at the foot of. “It’s just at the bottom of that hill.”

“Finally,” Legend spits, futilely wringing out his hat. He slaps the wet cloth over the back of his head with a scowl directed at Wild. The teen smiles back.

Time nods in approval. “Good. That should give us enough time to find a place to stay and gather supplies.” A single eye flicks back to Hyrule. “You said there was a hotel of some kind?”

“Yeah,” An emphatic nod from Hyrule. “There’s an abandoned house at the edge of town. The shopkeeper rents it out to travelers. There should be enough room for all of us.”

“Then let’s get a move on,” Time says, getting a nod from in response.

With the thought of a warm and dry place to stay so close, the group sets off up the hill in brighter spirits. Hyrule in particular, Four notes, strides forward with quickened steps, taking up the lead once again as he practically jogs up the hill.

Before long, they crest the hill top, giving the group the chance to finally see the town that had necessitated four hours of walking in misery.

Thats it What did you expect So small Well you heard how he talked about his Hyrule

… Town was probably too generous a word for it.

Sitting down in a nest of hills at the base of a mountain in the distance, sits fifteen or twenty buildings. They are divided by a thin river, a single arched bridge stitching the two sides of the village back together.

Surrounding the hamlet is a short and crumbling wall, mossy and coming apart at the seams. More for show than actual protection. A semblance of control, a dream of safety.

Running beside the river are small plots of land, measured out and carved into neat rows. Farms. Important for survival, but apparently not worth building houses next to. Better to stay behind the shattered cobblestone than out in the open. Safety in numbers. Not worth dying over a potato.

It’s quiet, no movement of people running to get into shelter from the rain. No children jumping in puddles or parents calling them back in from the cold.

No.

Rather, only a few lanterns are lit at all. Everything else is dark and silent.

Hyrule steps forward, a sheepish, self-deprecating smile on his face. His eyes are downcast. Embarrassed. He sweeps a hand out to the buildings, ducking low as if trying to sink out of their eye line.

“Welcome to Saria Town,” he says. His eyes flick up for a moment before returning to the ground. His painted smile drips a little in the rain. “I know it’s not much… but it’s safe.”

Next to him, out of the corner of his eye, Four can see Time tense, though at what, he can not say. Then the Old Man steps forward.  “It looks perfect.”

Hyrule’s head snaps up, hazel eyes wide first in shock, before he relaxes into a grin. Time gives him a nod.

“Lead the way.”

The traveling hero nods, stepping down the hill, head held a little higher as he does. Time follows closely with Legend, Warriors, and Sky not far behind.

Four is about to join them when a voice from behind stops him.

“Don’t,” Twilight groans. Four turns back in confusion, only to see that the exasperated word wasn't directed at him but rather, the two blondes just behind him.

Four glances at the two boys, and instantly sees why.

The two are gazing intently down the hill, sizing it up. They apparently like what they see because the two grin widely at each other. The blue clad heroes hold out their shields to one another, tapping them together in a mock ‘shield high-five’.

“Race you there?” Wind asks, eyes fire bright and face pulled into a grin of challenge

“You even need to ask, Sailor?” Wild replies cockily, already tossing his shield to the ground.

“On the count of three…” Wind says. Wild steps one foot on his shield– not his Hylian shield, Four notes with some relief, but rather a long, steel gray one– and braces the other behind him, ready to throw himself forward.

“One,” Wild says. Wind places his hands on his shield, ready to jump.

“Two.” They tense.

“Don’t,” Twilight interrupts again swiping wet hair from his face as he gives them a hard look. “Someone could get–”

“THREE!”

Wild pushes off. Wind vaults forward. The two fly , twin whoops echoing through the quiet air as they descend. For a second, the two boys are lost in the joy of the moment, voices caught in that youthful inbetween of yell and laughter.

And then that second ends.

The two sober, all business.  Wild leans forward on his shield, tucking his arms in to become more aerodynamic. Wind catches on to the others plot and quickly mirrors the older hero, hunkering down and shifting his weight forward to match Wild.  

They’re neck and neck.

And then–

“Shit!”

The harsh crack of snapping leather echoes clear and brutal through the air. Wild’s front foot slides forward on the wet metal, no longer anchored down by the arm strap. The scarred teen throws his weight backward, trying to keep himself from falling forward while simultaneously  slowing down his now out of control descent.

The metal wobbles precariously beneath Wild’s feet and then jerks sharply to the left, throwing it’s rider. With a cut off shout, he slams into the side of an helpless Wind, knocking the other boy from his shield as well. Tangled together, the two careen down the water slicked hill at a break-neck pace, headed straight for…

“Look out!” Bursts its way past Four’s lips without him even knowing.

Sky and Warriors jolt out of the way, their reaction times impeccable as always. Legend and Time reach out to grab the person in front of them…

Too late.

The two blondes slam into Hyrule’s unsuspecting back, the traveling hero only able to get out a shocked gasp before his legs are swiped out from beneath him and the three tumble in a mass of limbs, wet tunics, and pained shouts the rest of the way down the hill.

Four doesn't even need to consult his disparate thought processes. They’re already in agreement.

His feet carry him down the hill almost at a dead sprint, only the barest of thoughts spared to worry about slipping himself.

Vaguely, he can hear Twilight’s steps pounding behind him. In front of him, he can see the others sprint downward as well, Warrior’s feet even sliding beneath him before he rights himself and continues.

By the time Four slides to a stop, the others are already helping the three groaning boys.

Warriors sits up a groaning Wind. At just a glance, Four can see that the teen looks scratched, bruised, and grass stained but overall fine. Sky hands the boy a red potion that the sailor sips at, unwilling to drink more than he needs.

Wild looks much the same, though, the smithy notes that the champion is clutching at a rapidly purpling ankle. He looks more embarrassed than hurt though, his other hand rubbing at the back of his neck as Twilight chews him out and Time examines his leg.

Hyrule though…

As Legend helps the traveling hero up, Four’s eyes are immediately drawn to the thin scarlet line streaming from the brunette’s temple, the blood mixing and thinning with the rain, snaking across his cheek before dripping down his chin. A cruel mirror of the rain.

“Is he okay?” Four asks as he kneels down, unable to help himself. He reaches a hand out, the need to help and comfort slightly overwhelming, but with no clear outlet, his arm simply hovers without use.

Legend shoots Four a poisonous look that screams ‘What a dumb fucking question’ but otherwise ignores him in favor of brushing a few strands of Hyrule’s hair back so he can examine the wound closer.

Hyrule’s eyes flutter open at the gentle touch.

“M’ fine, I’m fine,” he says dizzily, swatting weakly at Legend’s prodding hand.  

The veteran hero huffs out a breath, taking Hyrule’s hand and carefully pulling it out of the way as he leans in for a closer look. “Stop moving. I think you hit your head on a rock. You’re bleeding.”

Hyrule’s eyes snap open, the haziness in his hazel depths igniting with a fever bright glow. Now that his eyes are wide open, Four can see that the teen’s pupils are dilated, one a pinprick while the other gapes wide, a dark hole in a green field.

Well that can’t be good Concussion maybe even a severe one We have to help him He needs a potion now

Four takes ahold of Hyrule’s shoulder to steady the other teen and then turns to dig through his satchel for a potion.

Hyrule, apparently, has other plans.

The traveling hero jerks up and away, throwing Four’s hand off him and almost headbutting Legend in his haste to sit up more fully. He slams a hand up to his forehead, swiping directly over the wound. Pain doesn't even register on his rapidly paling face. He pulls his hand back and inspects it, mismatched pupils tracing the blood that drips from the tips of his fingers.

He stares at the red for a moment.

And then Hyrule collapses in on himself.

Both arms reach other the top of his head, wrists crossing over the back of his skull. His hands run between wet curls once gently before gripping and pulling. Knees snap upward, allowing Hyrule to curl up fully, hiding himself from their gazes.

“No, no, no no no no nonononono!” he whispers, voice and shoulders shaking.

Four’s heart breaks.

“Calm down,” Legend cuts in, voice hard as stone but eyes as soft as the dark clouds hanging over them. His hand hovers over Hyrule’s back, like he’s afraid that a single touch would shatter the boy to pieces.  “It’s just a scratch,” he insists.

“No!” the traveler cries, arms dropping from their position above his head. Instead of clutching desperately at his hair, Hyrule’s hands fist into the fabric of his wet undershirt sleeves, using them to frantically scrub at the skin of his face.

With one more vicious wipe, Hyrule pulls his sleeves from his face.

Four sighs sadly at the sight.

Rather than cleaning his skin, the frantic hero has only succeeded in spreading the diluted blood all over his face. The only part of his face that could be considered ‘cleaner’ would be the tear tracks slowly drawing clear lines beneath his eyes.

The injured teen seems satisfied for a moment. But then he looks down at his now bloodied sleeves. With another distressed noise, he tucks his arms under his armpits and throws his head back against his knees, once again curling back up.

Four feels his heart pulled in so many directions. He feels warm, hot, too hot  concern churn his stomach. Cool, cold, too cold anger shoves icicles into his lungs. Wind and Wild’s fault. Rain’s fault. His fault. No where to put the anger and so it grows, piercing. The need for action whistles in his mind, a whirlwind of frantic thoughts. A mountain of unfamiliar uncertainty lodges in his heart, dividing it further.

He wants to pull Hyrule into him and crush him with a hug but knows it will only frighten the boy more. He wants to clean the other’s face and hand him a potion and punch his shoulder for freaking him out and laugh about something stupid and not be here right now in the rain with a desperately injured friend feeling so fucking usless We have to do something Please Please Please We have to help!

No, what we need to do is calm down.

calmdowncalmdown Calm down Calm down, Calm down.

Calm down.

Beside him, Four can hear Legend curse under his breath and begin to shuffle through his bag, though what exactly he is looking for, the smithy isn't sure. His hands become more and more hurried as he searches, fingers flicking through his pockets aggressively.

“Calm down.”

Legend’s eyes flick up, hands stilling as he seems to see Four for the first time since this whole debacle started.

“What?” he hisses, keeping his voice low so as not to cause Hyrule more distress with his angry tone.

“Calm down,” Four says simply. “I know you want to help him. So do I. But right now he’s scared and confused. Getting upset will only make things worse.”

The veteran hero glares at Four, and Four stares right back, not challenging but not exactly sympathetic either. He knows what he’s talking about, even if it pisses off the pink haired hero. Right now, there is no room for negative emotion. Only action.

They hold eye contact for only a moment more before Legend looks away, deflating.The veteran takes a deep breath. In… out. Something, the fight, goes out of him, leaving Legend looking to all the world like a tired young man, soaked to the bone, cold, and worried.

“Hey ‘Rule,” Legend begins, voice low as he inches closer to the curled up boy. Four follows his lead,  slowly shuffling his way to the injured teen’s other side. Hyrule doesn't react. A good sign.

Or a really really bad sign.

Legend carefully places his arm around the traveling hero’s shoulders. “Hyrule, can I see your head? I need to-”

But the teen shakes his head and tenses up further, looking more akin to a Goron getting ready to roll.

“The Eyes…” Hyrule’s voice whispers from between clasped arms.

Suddenly, Hyrule throws his head up and away from his knees, eyes large and faraway. His eyes flick left right left right, somewhere or some when else. He reaches out a hand to no one but the rain. Then, slowly, far too slowly to be natural, he turns too bright eyes first to Legend and then Four.

“The Eyes of Ganon are everywhere.”

Somehow, the rain gets colder.  

“It’s okay,” Legend says, voice the most comforting Four thinks he’s ever heard it. The pink haired man places an open bottle of red potion into the other’s outstretched hand and then helps the injured teen to curl his fingers around the glass. Legend guides Hyrule’s hand up until the bottle reaches his lips, all the while, blank hazel eyes stare forward, unshifting.

Hyrule drinks from the bottle reflexively.

Four feels the other boy’s muscles uncoil little by little as his throat bobs to swallow. Wide eyes blink once, twice, three times and then finally refocus, dizziness replaced with slightly pained confusion.

The cut on his forehead scabs over and before he can stop himself, Four reaches up and brushes the blood from the side of Hyrule’s face with his own sleeve.

“Better?” Legend asks.

“Yeah. Better,” Hyrule replies. And then, with a wince, “Sorry.”

“Don’t,” Legend cuts him off. “Not your fault.”

“Still,” Hyrule says. His eyebrows furrow, confusion easily written on his face. “I… I don't know what came over me.”

“You were injured and confused,” Four says diplomatically, giving his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Part of him still wants to hug the other hero. He valiantly holds himself back. But only just. “It could have happened to any of us.”

“But it was more than that! I felt… It felt like…” Hyrule sighs, shaking his head and then stops, closing his eyes at the surge of pain that comes with the movement. “I guess it doesn't matter anymore.”

The traveling hero gingerly runs a finger along the edge of his scab, displeasure pulling at his lips.

“Do we have any bandages? Or something to cover this up?”

“Sorry, we just used the last of them to wrap Wild's ankle.”

The three heroes start and look up, surprised to see Twilight approaching them. As he walks closer, Four notices that the others are looking at them as well, and though concerned, none of them make any moves to get closer.

Good. The last thing Hyrule needs right now is a crowd.

Four had honestly forgotten that they had an audience. Albeit a captive audience but an audience all the same.

Judging by the slightly embarrassed tint to Legend’s face, so did he.

“It doesn't look like it's bleeding anymore,” Twilight continues, leaning down to get a better look at the now mostly closed wound. “You should be fine without anything, I think.”

“I know. I just don’t like going into town injured is all.”

That seems counterintuitive. Drops like a stone in water in the back of his mind, stirring up a few responses.

Maybe he just doesn't like freaking out the locals. Suggests one.

Based on this place, they’ve probably seen worse. Mutters a second.

Oh hey, guys, I think I’ve got something! Says the last, brightly.

An image flashes in Four’s mind. He nods.

Four reaches back and pulls at one of the loose ends of his makeshift hair tie. Sopping wet curtains of hair fall back around his face, the headband that he usually wears now sitting limp in his hand.

He takes both ends of the green ribbon and pulls it taut. Then he turns and lays it flat against Hyrule’s forehead. Leaning forward a bit more, he ties it gently but securely around the other’s head, mindful of the pain the other must be in.  

When he sits back on his heels to examine his work, he realises that the others had fallen silent. Legend and Twilight stare at him while Hyrule sits, a small, shell shocked expression on his face.  Four’s eyes jump back and forth between the three. Eventually he settles on a shrug and a neutral face.

“What? He needs it more than me.”

While sweet, I do believe that is wildly unsanitary.

Oh no! I’m sorry!

Don't worry about it! We all agreed.

A spike of annoyance.

Well, most of us agreed and the fourth didn't put up a fight.  We’re not that far out of town anyway. We can get him clean bandages there.

Way to ruin the moment, asshole.

Despite the conversation in his head, outside it remains quiet. After another beat, Hyrule slowly runs a finger across the wet cloth now ties to his forehead.

When he brings his hand back to eye level, his fingertips come back wet but clean. No blood.

A small smile lights up Hyrule’s face, some color finally returning to his face.

“Thank you.”

…

After making sure everyone is okay, the group of heroes finally, finally makes it into town.

As they stumble through the gates, Four muses that if anyone were outside to witness them, they would be getting quite a few looks. Because… Well...

We look like shit.

Leading the group is Time, probably looking the least worn for wear when compared to the rest of them. However, Four notes that even the Old Man didnt get out of their absolutely joy filled trek unscathed.

As he strides further into town, head on a swivel for the store Hyrule had described to him, the Hero of Time walks with an odd gait, shifting his hips slightly to the left as he steps forward. Water must have penetrated the underlayer of his armor Four thinks with a wince. Poor Old Man must be chafing like there is no tomorrow under there.

Behind Time stumbles the procession of the wounded.

Or something like that.

Wind and Warriors walk together, the older hero keeping an eye on the younger as they enter the heart of the seemingly deserted town. The sailor keeps tugging on his makeshift sling: Warriors’ scarf looped twice around the young boy’s neck cradling his arm. Though not broken, Warriors had not accepted anything less than making sure it was wrapped and immoble, something that had Wind groaning and whining about being babied.

Twilight and Wild shuffle behind them, the champion’s left arm thrown over Twilight’s shoulders so the farmhand can help keep weight off the younger boy’s ankle. Though no longer swelling after a potion, the joint was still sore. Wild had assured them that after a good meal and some sleep he’d be fine, but Twilight insisted on helping him walk until they found a place to rest.

(“So you can't trip and drown yourself in the river,” Twilight had said derisively as he helped the teen stand up earlier. Said teen stuck his tongue out in response, but Four could see the affectionate smile tugging at the champion’s lips.)

Bringing up the rear is the triad of Sky, Legend, and Hyrule. The latter is not supported between the other two, but both older heroes damn near frog march the poor kid between them, each with a guiding hand on his upper arm.

The still slightly dazed teen walks slowly. He is wearing one of Wild’s hoods– the teen had felt so sorry about the whole incident, he jumped at the chance to make the traveling hero more comfortable, even if only for a moment– making it difficult to tell where exactly he was looking, but he turned his head slowly, searching.

“There!” he said, pointing to a building on the left.

Four follows his arm. The building in question is one of the few with a lantern out front. On a whole, the place looks worn down, like too stiff of a breeze would knock it down. It has a small overhang, probably for shade in the summer. From the rafters of the awning, hangs an old wooden sign suspended on rusted chains. A simple bottle design is painted on the molding planks in what was probably white paint at some point, but now looks chipped and faded into a shade Four would call ‘dirty snow.’

Light streams from the singular window out front, advertising warmth within.

“Do all of the houses have these?” Time asks, finger pointed up at the overhang. Hyrule nods in response.

“Okay.” The Old Man falls silent for just a moment. “Okay, here’s the plan. Hyrule, I want you to lead everyone to the house we will be staying in for the night. We don't want to alarm anyone with our wounded and I’m assuming there won't be enough room in the storefront for everyone.” He directs his last statement to Hyrule, who nods.

“Four, Wind,” Four feels his head tilt to the side at the mention of his name and thinks he sees the sailor do the same on the other side. “You’ll be with me. Everyone else, try to stay warm under the awning if at all possible.”

“Why do the brats get to go inside?” Legend asks sourly, causing Four’s metaphorical hackles to rise. Wind opens his mouth to spit something probably filled with expletives, at the other hero, but Time beats him to it.

“What kind of father would I be if I left my poor, injured sons outside in the rain?” He says, with what Four would call a mischievous smile on his face. If his bad eye wasn’t perpetually closed, Four would assume the Old Man would be winking at them too.

Maybe he is winking and we just can’t see it.

How does that work?

Aww, he called us his son!

Wait a minute…

“Now, hold on,” Four says, drowned out by six distinct laughs.

“I did NOT agree to be used as a prop!” Wind hisses above the din in agreement with Four’s sentiment, eyebrows pulled low and a glower plastered over his face. Yeesh, Four forgot how expressive Wind’s face was. Kid looks pissed.

Time raises his hands in surrender, his smile turning from mischief to frank in a second.

"Look, these people are scared. It’s a harsh world out there. If you were a shopkeep in a small town and nine heavily armed people entered demanding a place to stay, wouldn't that frighten you a little?” He doesn't wait for a response before continuing. “A father with his sons and a small band of injured travelers is a much easier story to swallow.”

“If you want to play the father, why don’t you take Twilight then?” Four asks, his voice somehow coming out both huffy and genuinely questioning. “You two at least look like you have a little bit of family resemblance.”

Time and Twilight share a look.

The oldest hero throws a hand behind his head, rubbing at his neck. Eyebrows up, smile sheepish. “Bringing in a soaking wet, pissed off farmhand wont make for quite as sympathetic a image.”

“You’re a manipulative bastard, you know that, right?” Legend says flatly.

“What? What do you mean?” Wind asks.

“He wants to bring the two of you in because you,” he points at Four, “look like a drowned rat. And you,” he turns to Wind, “look like a drowned rat with a broken arm.”

"Why don’t I break your arm? Then we’ll match!” Wind spits, marching over to Legend, who sports an unimpressed look on his face. Warriors grabs the back of the smaller hero’s sling, holding him back.

Four blows out a breath from between his lips, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

They, unfortunately, have a point.

You would be okay with lying.

If it’s to help everyone else, then yes, I am.

It’s demeaning!

It’s useful.

Four pinches harder. His head pounds.

Guys. Stop.

Please!

A blessed moment of internal silence.

Four can vaguely hear Wind telling Warriors to let him go. Wild eggs the younger boy on while Twilight threatens to drop the teen if he continues. Legend merely huffs, probably daring the kid to make good on his words. Time sternly tells them to keep it down, probably thinking of the townsfolk or Hyrule’s delicate head.

They ignores it all.

They take stock of how they feel. Angry. Loved. Embarrassed. Annoyed. Regretful. Tired. Hungry. Cold. Bruises on their knee, grass stains on their leggings. A friend’s blood on their sleeve. A splitting headache, but thankfully not a Splitting headache.

They’re not in a good place. Fighting will only make it worse.

Fine… I see your point…

Four’s hand pulls at the leather strap securing his sword to his back, pulling it over his head and off his shoulder. He wraps the worn leather around and around the sword, making sure the strap doesn't come loose and then he holds the blade out to a now silent and very confused looking Wild.

“Uhhhhh,” the champions says, “What are you doing?”

“If we are going to pretend to be normal kids, I figured we probably shouldn’t be armed.”

Four holds out the sword more insistently. Wild takes it gingerly, like it will bite him if he handles it too roughly. Or like it’ll break if he looks at it wrong. With his track record, that could actually be an issue.

“If you break it, I’ll break you,” Four hears pour out of his mouth with a hiss, and he wonders if his eyes are flashing cobalt at the moment.

Based on the way Wild’s eyes widen, Four guesses they are. Whatever. If it keeps the champion’s mitts off his sword, it's worth the weirdness. He knows the other teen can’t actually break the Four Sword– he’s too good a smith to make the magic sword that defined his era anything less than perfect– but he sure as hell doesn't want the teen touching it more than necessary either.

What a nightmare that would be.

Wind huffs, seeming to calm a bit. Warriors lets the teen go and the sailor strides up next to Four, roughly unstrapping his own sword and shoving it at Wild as well. It disappears with Four’s own, into the slate.

There is something about seeing his sword disappear, the ever present option suddenly taken away, that makes Four’s skin feel too tight. It’s like when you never realise you’re thirsty until suddenly you're out and about with nothing to drink. He feels itchy and too small. He wants to scratch at his head. No, the seams of his brain.

He stays his hand.

Legend rolls his eyes and turns away from the group, apparently done with the scene they’re making. He places a gentle hand back on Hyrule’s shoulder. The pressure seems to jolt the other hero, who until that moment had been spacing out.

“Lead the way. The sooner we can get everyone out of the rain the better.”

Hyrule nods. Sky takes up his old position at the traveler’s other side, and together the three start heading toward the bridge.

Wild throws his arm back over Twilights shoulder.

“I’ll take care of your stuff,” he says sincerely and then the two turn to follow the others at a slightly slower pace.

“Watch out for them?” Time asks Warriors as the other man turns to leave.

“Will do!” The captain shoots back with a smile and a salute then he’s gone, around the corner and out of sight.

With the others taken care of, Time turns back to look at them. Four keeps his face as stony as possible. Next to him, Wind scowls, tapping one foot on the ground repeatedly, a soft splat splat splat in the mud.

Time moves past them until he stands just in front of the door before he throws a look over his shoulder and beckons them forward.

“Oh, he so owes us,” Wind mutters as he and Four come to stand at the oldest hero’s side. Four nods in agreement.

“I’ll do most of the talking,” Time says. He glances down at Four. “You’re much too mature sounding for your own good.”

Before Four can ask what, exactly, that’s supposed to mean, Time has moved on to Wind. “And you keep your hands–hmm– hand to yourself. I know you have sticky fingers, little pirate.”

With that, the man pushes the door open and walks in.

“Don’t throw out your back opening the door, Dad,” Wind grumbles, sarcasm dripping from the final word.

“You’ll have to speak up, dear brother of mine. You know our father’s hearing is going.” Four mutters back.

They share a sour look for a moment, before small smiles break over their faces. Then quickly, before the door closes, they follow Time inside.

Inside, it is warm. While Four isn't exactly thrilled with the part he is playing, the warmth of the room is definitely an upside to the deal. Inside, it is also cramped. Like Time had predicted, the front room is small, with little room between the door and the counter, very much unlike his own shop.

Behind the counter, a woman’s humming is suddenly cut short at the sound of the door opening and closing. A head of mousy brown hair perks up and glances over the desk. There is a soft gasp and a smack as she drops what she was doing behind the desk and straightens up with wide and curious, amber eyes.

Interesting color.

Please, like we’re one to talk.

“Hello!” She greets cheerfully, though Four thinks he sees her eyeing Time’s sword. Huh. Though he misses it like a phantom limb, maybe it was for the best he left the Four Sword with Wild.

“I haven’t seen you all around here before. What can I do you for?”

Time smiles, charming but not too charming. Less flirty, more the rustic hospitality of a rancher. A real man of the people and all that nonsense.

“We’re just passing through. My sons and I were traveling with a group of merchants when we got caught in the storm. We ran into some problems,” Time says, gesturing to Wind and his slinged arm, “and now we’re just hoping to find somewhere to get us out of the rain.”

The woman gasps, a hand coming up to cup around her mouth.

“Oh you poor dears!” The woman exclaims. She leans over the desk–practically falling over it– to get a better look at Wind, who leans backward in response. “What happened?”

“I, uhhhhh, slipped and fell down a hill,” Wind says, taking a small step back.

The woman’s head snaps toward Four next, and suddenly, the smithy understands the other’s reaction. Her amber eyes are intense, burning with something unidentifiable. Maternal instinct? Maybe? Four wouldn’t know. Never really knew his mother.

“And what about you, dear?”

Four’s eyebrows furrow. He didn't think he looked all that bad. Definitely not visibly injured like the others. He glances down at himself to make sure nothing is out of place and– oh. The blood on his sleeve. Hyrule’s blood. Right.

“I cut myself on a bush,” Four lies smoothly.

“Hmmm, you have a couple of clumsy boys then,” the shopkeep says, eyes still locked on Four.

Okay, she’s freaky, right? Oh yeah Maybe she’s just bad at first impressions I wouldn't say we’re the best judge of normal anyway

Time laughs. Four thinks the Old Man is trying to sound agreeable, but it sounds more nervous. No. That’s not quite right. Uneasy. Ready to be done with the interaction and back with the others.

“They get it from me, unfortunately,” he says, making an aborted motion toward his face, his eye.

There is a beat of silence.

“So,” Time continues, “A place to stay…?”

The woman blinks, finally tearing her gaze from Four and leaning back onto her side of the counter. A kind smile slides its way back onto her face, like it’s her default expression.

“Yes. Yes of course. Just a moment.” She turns away, shifting through a drawer on the back counter. While she’s not looking, Wind shoots Four a look, face scrunched in question and good hand drawing small circles next to the side of his head.

Four shrugs in response.

Time smacks both of them on the back of their heads as the woman turns back around.

“Here we are,” the woman holds out a key, old and rusty. Time reaches into his wallet but the shopkeep shakes her head. “No, no. This one’s on the house. For your troubles.”

“We couldn’t possibly-”

“It’s no trouble at all,” She insists. “Old place could use some life in it after so long.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” Time says uncertainly. “Can I at least buy a few of those in thanks?” he asks gesturing to the shelf of red potions.

The woman smiles. “Seems fair to me.”

Time finally pulls out some rupees, exchanging them for five bottles filled with scarlet, viscous liquid and the key.

With their business seemingly concluded, Wind and Four turn to see themselves out, but Time grabs them, holding them in place.

Four restrains a groan. Though he had enjoyed the warmth when they had first entered, now it felt heavy and oppressive in a way that even the heat of the forge never did. There was something about this place that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his head feel fuzzy. Like he was being watched; watched by something other than the shopkeeper’s piercing amber gaze.

He wants to leave. Now.

“One more question if you wouldn’t mind,” the Old Man starts to Four’s chagrin. “While we plan to stay a few days to rest, we will be heading out at some point. We heard that there were increased monster sightings.”

The shopkeeper's head tilts at this, as though this is news to her.

“We were wondering if there was anyone we could talk to who might have some more information. Locations of sightings and the like so we can avoid those areas.”

She brings a hand to her chin and her eyes angle up and to the left in thought.

“Hmmm, well, you could go ask old Norman. He runs the bar in town. Gets lots of travelers through there. He might have heard of something.”

A smile suddenly stretches her lips. “Though he doesn't often talk for free. He might loosen up if you have a few drinks with him.”

Time nods at the information, sending her a smile in return.

“Thank you for all the help.”

The woman waves him off.

“My pleasure.”

They turn to leave and Four feels some tension leave his shoulders as Time grabs the doorknob and turns it, opening the door wide. Cold air rushes in and the smithy feels like he can breathe again.

“And kid.”

Both Four and Wind tense, look at each other and then turn. Her eyes are pinned firmly on the shortest hero’s sleeve; right over the dark stain of slowly blackening crimson. That odd, default smile still on her lips.

“Bandage that up soon, deary.”

Four nods his head rapidly and then quickly walks out the door to follow Time with Wind hot on his heels.

Though out of the room, Four still feels eyes on his back. He doesn't dare look around. Instead the smithy walks faster until he draws side by side with the older hero. Wind soon catches up, walking on Time’s other side.  

As soon as they are far enough from the shop, Wind opens his mouth.

“Soooo, she was freaky right?” Time shoots him a look. “Nice, but like, in a freaky kinda way?”

Four nods, wordlessly.

“She was kind to us. That’s all that matters,” Time says sternly. “Now, let's find the others and get inside.”

…

Thankfully, it is not difficult to find the others. It is, afterall, a very small town.

After a quick debate over who gets the old, musty beds and who gets the floor– all of the injured heroes get beds and sips of Red Potion along with their dinner of Hearty Mushroom and Pumpkin Stew– the heroes quickly turn in for the night, tired from their long day.

By the time Four wakes up, light is streaming through the windows. Huh. It must have stopped raining sometime during the night. Based on the color of the rays, it’s past sunrise. Way past sunrise if their warm, yellow glow is anything to go by.

The smithy sits up from his bed roll, blanket pooling around his waist as he looks around.

Beside him, Sky sleeps peacefully, under his blanket but with limbs sprawled out. His mouth is open and he snores softly, deep, even breaths murmuring through the air.

In the small kitchen, Time, Legend, Twilight, and Warriors sit at the table, mugs of something warm and steaming in their hands as they talk. Their conversation doesn’t appear to be serious or even really a conversation at all. One hero will contribute something every so often, but as Four watches them, more often than not, the older heroes seem content to lapse in companionable silence.

Four disentangles himself from Sky. He's glad he doesn have to worry about waking the elder– the chosen hero sleeps like the dead– so he separates himself quickly and then pads quietly over to the kitchen.

“You let us sleep in,” he says in lieu of a greeting, taking the final seat at the table. Legend pours him a mug of the drink, which he discovers to be tea, and passes it into Four’s hands. Four takes a sip.

Ah perfect Too bitter Needs some milk Maybe a little honey

He breathes in the steam, letting it fill his lungs with herbal smelling air as warmth seeps into his stomach.

“The only thing on the schedule for today is going down to the bar and that won’t open until sometime after noon,” Time replies. “Besides, I thought everyone could use a rest after yesterday.”

“Hear hear,” Warriors agrees with a raised mug. Everyone takes a sip.

After that, the group falls back into a relaxed silence that Four has no trouble maintaining. Instead he sits and sips his tea, drinking in the rare moment of peace he finds himself experiencing.

Eventually, slowly but surely, the other trickle in: first Wild, then Hyrule, and then ending with a yawning Wind who trips over and wakes the still sleeping Sky.

After a quick breakfast, Time sets them loose for a bit of leisure time.

Warriors quickly demands a rematch in BS from Legend, who acquiesces with an easy, confident grin. The two rope in Twilight and Wind and sit around the now empty kitchen table with Legend quickly distributing cards. Looking at the makeup of the group, Four would say that Warriors has approximately a 5% chance of winning. Maybe 6% if he’s lucky.

Time and Wild take opposite corners of the living room, with the Old Man sitting down to polish his armor while the champion taps away at his slate, reorganizing his inventory.

(Wild had told him the night before that taking his and Wind’s swords had made the older hero realise how unorganized everything was. Pumpkins with shields, fish with monster parts…. Four really hadn't been listening, too preoccupied with the familiar, comforting weight being returned to his back)

Sky leans against the back wall whittling… something. Four wasn't sure what it was yet but based on what he saw of the chosen hero’s talent with a carving knife, he was sure it would be great by the end.

Four curls up next to the fire, book in hand to read.He opens the book and leafs through the pages to his desired chapter, settling in. After a few moments and a few pages, a green ribbon flutters and settles itself inside the crease of the book. His headband. The smithy looks up just in time to catch Hyrule as the other hero sits next to him, needle, thread and a tunic in hand to do some mending.

"You kept tucking your hair behind your ear," he says in lieu of an explanation. "You need it more than me."

"Besides," the traveler continues, with a smile. "Now it doesn't have my blood on it anymore!"

Four smiles back, tying the cloth around his forehead, his hair finally tamed once more.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

The small hero leans back over his book. Hyrule holds the needle up to his eye, trying to thread it.

They sit together, chatting every so often but mostly just sitting in each other's company, warmed by the fire.

It's nice. The room is quiet but full of murmuring, laughter from the card table, and the rhythmic sound of scrubbing.

To Four, it seems all too soon that Time calls them back around the table to discuss their plan.

And their plan, unfortunately, is complete bullshit.

“This is complete bullshit!” Wind hisses, voicing Four’s thoughts perfectly. Well, at least one of his thoughts.

“Wind,” Time says, voice that of a tired man who already knows his patience is going to be tried at least twelve more times over the course of this conversation. “You’re thirteen. They’re not going to let you into the bar anyway.”

“That just means I can’t be caught!  I can still go on the mission!” he replies vehemently, pounding a fist on the table.

Time rubs at a spot between his eyebrows, just underneath the blue tattoo on his forehead. “First of all, what you are describing is breaking and entering. Secondly, this isn't a mission. We’re just going to get some information.”

“Oh, and I suppose you need four people to gather information?” Wild cuts in, face just as sour as Wind’s.

“Well, we sure as Hylia don't need nine,” Warriors replies in a similar state of exasperation as Time.

“Look, the four of us,” and here Time gestures to himself, Warriors, Twilight, and Sky, “Are the only ones who can get in without any questions asked.”

Wild and Legend let even heavier glowers darken their faces.

“We want to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible,” Time continues, ignoring the dirty looks being thrown his way. “Coming in with a big group or trying to argue with anyone will not help our case.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don't plan on drinking anything,” Sky puts in with a genuine expression of concern. Twilight slaps a hand to his tattoo, shaking his head.

“That’s not the point!” Wind huffs.

Time and Warriors share a look, which is then passed over to Twilight. The farmhand just shakes his head and the other two sigh.

“You were fine with splitting up before,” Warriors tries. “If this was just a run to the shop you wouldn’t fight so hard to come. What’s going on?”

“I’m tired of being treated like a kid. You all laughed at me and Four earlier!” The sailor says, chest puffed out. Four isn't sure if he should feel touched or offended that the younger hero feels the need to stick up for him. Whatever. He’ll figure it out later.

“And! And...” Wind looks lost for a second, like the air just went out of his sails. “I… Something just feels off. I don’t know.”

“I feel it too,” Four puts in, remembering the feeling of eyes on his back and prickling at his neck. Watching. Waiting. “I would feel better if we accompanied you as well.”

“And how do you suppose you do that?” Time asks, not exactly unkindly but with little sympathy in his words.

Well, the smallest hero can think of a way he could sneak in unnoticed. He had felt the presence of a portal near the center of town when they walked in. The others…

Silence reigns over the kitchen for a moment.

“Then that’s settled then,” Time says with finality. No room for argument.

Wind slumps a little, eyes going to the floor.

Without anything more to say, Time and Twilight head toward the door. As he passes by the sailor, Warriors gives the teen a soft punch on the shoulder and a quick smile.

“We’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get back,” Sky reassures.

And then, with a swing of the door, they’re gone.

It is quiet for a moment, Wind staring at the now closed door.

Then he turns to face them, the disappointment dropping off his face like water off the back of a Zora. All business.

“So we’re going after them, right?” He asks.

Four feels a slow smile grow on his face and sees it mirrored by the others. Legend nods approvingly.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, kid.”

…

They wait a few minutes inside the house to let the others reach their destination before they sneak out. Hyrule, still feeling sensitive to the light– though Four also senses that the teen is probably feeling a small flare for the dramatic– leads them with Wild’s hood pulled over his head.

Once they cross the bridge into the other side of town where the bar is, the traveling hero pulls them behind one of the houses where there is a large break in the cobblestone wall protecting the town.

One by one, they slip through the crack. It leads them to a small, thin walkway in the space between the edge of a cliff leading up to Death mountain and the cobblestone. They have to sidle, backs against the crumbling stone, to move at all. It’s a little slowgoing, and more than a little uncomfortable, but it lets them move through town unseen.

Eventually, they come to another break and they shove their way through, coming out behind two buildings.

“How did you even know about this way?” Legend asks with a gasp as he squeezes through the gap in the stone.

“Oh you know,” Hyrule says, his smile peeking out from the shade of Wild’s hood, “When you get lost easily, sometimes you gotta find your own way.”

Legend shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the younger’s antics but doesn't comment.

The highest compliment he can give.  Dry like the desert and so correct that Four almost nods at the comment.

“Okay, what exactly is the plan here?” Wild asks.

“Wow. I never thought I’d see the day you actually think before you act,” Legend replies with a single raised eyebrow.

Aaaaand he’s back.

Before Wild can grumble out a response, Legend continues. “I’m assuming the plan is sneak in, keep an eye out, and then get out in time to beat them back to the house.”

“Now,” Legend says, sweeping a critical eye over all of them. “How are you all getting in?”

“What about you?” Four asks, picking up on Legend’s odd word choice.

“Me?” he says in response, a cocky smirk on his face. “Well, I’ve got this.”

The veteran hero places his left hand on the wall of the building. Suddenly the golden bracelet on his wrist flares to life, the purple eye engraved on the band flashing brightly. Swirls of green and yellow magic twine around Legend’s body, gently shifting his red tunic. On the wall, green lines draw themselves into what looks like a painting frame.

The vines of magic tighten themselves around Legend pulling him closer, closer, into the wall and in a flash of light, Legend is gone.

Behind where he was standing, on the wall, sits a bold lined, chalk-like drawing of the hero.

The drawing’s oval shaped eyes snap open and a single line cuts across the bottom half of its face, curling up at its edges. A smile.

In a flash of purple, Legend exits the wall. He leans back against it, smug grin still in place as he observes their shocked expressions.

“So back to my question: how are you all getting in?”

Four’s eyes glance around their small group. Hyrule seems to be looking away, hood pointed downward toward the ground. Wild pulls out his slate and holds it up in front of his eyes, head sweeping back and forth, up and down as he searches for something. Wind meanwhile, scans around, eyes squinted.

The sailor’s eyes widen at the same time Wild makes a small noise of excitement.

“There!” They exclaim, both pointing at a spot higher up on the wall.

Sure enough, when Four follows their hands, he can see a metal grate cover what looks to be a small air vent. He has a few built into the back of his own house to help release steam and smoke from the forge without it entering the rest of the home, but can't help wondering what exactly its utility is here.

The two teens share a quick high five and then Wild begins swiping away at the screen. In the blink of an eye, the champion’s sky blue tunic and tan pants are replaced with navy blue leggings and a tight and lightly armored shirt with a red eye in the middle. A slim, white scarf wraps itself around the teens neck, leading up to his face which is partially covered with another piece of navy blue fabric clinging over the champion’s nose and mouth.

Wind, meanwhile, rummages around inside his Spoils Bag for a moment– with an alarming amount of dangerous sounding clanging, Four notices with some worry– before pulling out a grappling hook.

Using one hand to hold onto the slack and the other to spin the metal end, Wind winds up and with a final definitive swing, releases the hook end, launching it upward toward the roof. The hook skitters across the wooden shingles of the roof, a few of the more rotten tiles coming loose before the metal catches and holds.

Wind tests it a few times, pulling on the rope hard before he is satisfied.

“Okay,” Legend says as Wild finishes pulling the metal grate from the wall with his Magnesis Rune. “Three down. Two to go.”

Four glances at Hyrule who stares right back at him, as though waiting for the smithy to make the next move. Though the hood is obscuring part of his face, Four swears the other looks… nervous.

Maybe we aren’t the only one with something to hide.

Either way, this isn’t going to work.

Hey! We’re losing time here people!

You might be onto something there...

Four sighs. “Look, we’re already losing time. You three go in, Hyrule and I will figure it out.”

Legend looks like he wants to argue but with a flash of hazel from underneath a hood, he drops it.

“Fine. If we need to leave, I’ll give this signal,” The veteran says as he holds up two fingers and then flicks them downward twice.

“And if we have to fight?” Wind asks, face serious once more.

“You’ll know that signal when you see it,” Legend says.

With a final nod, the pink haired hero sinks into the wall, becoming a drawing once more. Large, circular eyes, flick over the group one more time before he’s off, walking along the wall until he disappears through a crack between the backdoor and its frame.

Using the rope, the two blond teens quickly make their way up to the vent. Wind delves inside first, crawling easily through the opening in the wall. Wild follows closely behind, throwing a hand out to give a wave to Four and Hyrule before he too disappears from sight.

“So, I’m going to just, uh,” Hyrule starts once everyone is out of sight, pointing to the left of the building.

Four cuts him off. “No need to explain. I’ll meet you in there.”

Hyrule flashes him a thankful smile and then jogs around the corner of the building and away from Four’s eyeline.

“Oh yeah,” Four’s voice says to no one in particular as he turns around the opposite corner of the bar. “Definitely hiding something.”

“Pot meet kettle,” His voice replies in the darkness of the alley way.

…

Four isn't sure whether he should feel grateful or concerned about the fact that the bar seems to have a rat problem.

On the one hand, he muses as he pulls himself up onto a ledge containing a few decorative pots, it had made it very easy to get into the building; simply enter the rat hole and follow the tunnel to an opening out into the main room.

On the other hand, his friends are patrons of said establishment. And even though Four knows rats are relatively hygienic– And cute!– he can't help but shutter as he watches Warriors eat a piece of  bread.

Regardless, it had been very easy to enter the bar once he was the size of a minish.

Easy to enter, easy to find his friends.

From his vantage point on a relatively high shelf situated near the front of the room, Four can see almost the entire layout of the bar.

Quietly playing cards near the door are two older men, regulars Four would guess by their relaxed nature and easy smiles. Near the left corner in a small alcove sits an ancient looking woman, slumped over and nursing a half-full bottle of something red.

The people that Four is actually interested in, however, seem to have split themselves up. To cover more metaphorical ground or to appear less intimidating, Four would assume.

Sky and Warriors have taken a small table for themselves, a loaf of bread and some butter between them. There is a half full tankard in Warriors’ hand and a completely full one in Sky’s, with the former jeering on the latter to drink. The chosen hero gives a sheepish smile and takes a sip, foam sticking to his upper lip causing Warriors to break out in laughter.

Though jovial and loud, Four can see that the captain’s eyes are clear and bright. Not buzzed, then, simply acting. Making himself seem like an easy target. Someone to underestimate. Smart.

Twilight and Time, meanwhile, sit at the bar talking. Four can see that they too seem to have drinks in their hands, but neither man appears to have had any yet. Polite purchases then.

From his position on the front wall, Four can also make out the exit of the vent that Wind and Wild were using. Though dark, the smithy thinks he might see some movement behind the grate, but other than that, the two don't give themselves away.

Legend is being similarly sneaky.

While Four had been too late to see the other move into position, after quite a bit of searching, he can just make out a singular outlined eye peeking from behind a stack of crates in the other corner of the bar.

Figures. Four should have known that Legend would be good at this sort of thing.

A soft scuffling sound in the rafters draw’s Four’s eyes upward. At first, the smithy wonders if perhaps there were some Minish up there that he had somehow missed on his first pass through the building. But then, a ball of pink light flashes from between the wooden support beams, moving frantically up, down, and around the rafters.

A fairy huh How did one get lost in here Oh poor thing must be so confused

Eventually, however, the fairy seems to settle down, the pink light landing on one of the beams and simply resting there.

Four leaves it be.

Besides, he has more important things to worry about instead of a wayward magical entity. Notably, Hyrule’s absence.

He should be here by now, right? Crashes into his brain like an errant wave.

Maybe he’s already here and we just can't see him? Flares back, the statement tilting upward into a concerned question by the end

He is the most magically adept. Who knows what he has up his sleeve. A steady breeze. Comforting.

“What? Not good enough for you?” A gruff voice breaks through Four’s  mind, bringing him back to the present.

He follows the voice until his eyes land back at the bar. There, the bartender is eyeing Time and Twilight, top lip pulled up in a distasteful snarl. The man is middle aged, pot-bellied and balding, with a thin semi-circle of salt and pepper hair at the crown of his head. Bushy brows are aimed downward as he levels a purposeful look to their still filled cups.

Twilight takes a big sip and then nods his head approvingly. Time merely smiles at the man.

“Sorry, we got a bit caught up in our conversation.”

The bartender grunts in response, and then turns to begin organising the multicolored bottles lined against the back wall. Twilight shoots Time a look and shrugs. The older hero sighs and nods.

Then, the two heroes clink their cups together and throw their heads back while chugging, both polishing off their drinks in a matter of seconds. Twilight's nose wrinkles at the taste and Time’s good eye twitches minutely.

Four winces in sympathy. His grandfather had let him steal sips of beer before. He knows what it tastes like.

Seriously. The things they do to protect Hyrule.

Time knocks lightly but politely on the bar. The man turns back, with first a surprised and then a considering look on his face as he sees the now empty cups.

“Another round, please,” Time says.

“And one here too, if you would!” Warriors calls out, slapping Sky on the back for a job well done. Two empty cups sit at their small table.

The bartender nods, his lips minutely twitching upward as he sets about gathering their cups and refilling them. As the man passes out from behind the bar to grab the mugs from the other two’s table, Time sends the captain a look, which is returned with a wink.

Four settles in against one of the pots, the cool ceramic sinking through his tunic and cooling his back.

This is gonna get interesting.

…

And interesting it was. After the second round of drinks, Sky taps out. Well, he taps out in so much as he slumps over the table, face down and breathing deeply.

After his drinking buddy conks out, Warriors moves to the bar, taking the stool on Twilight’s other side, sandwiching the farmhand in the middle of the two oldest heroes.

It is after the three finish their third round that the bartender seems to warm up to them. Well, at least Four thinks the bartender has warmed up to them. He had gone from outright glaring at the heroes to only offering the occasional huff of irritation combined with polite if stilted conversation.

It’s progress. Kind of.

“So, you four are from out of town then?” he asks, nodding toward the sleeping Sky to indicate him in the group as well.

Time nods, taking another sip from his cup. “My sons and I were traveling the roads when we came across their merchant group.” He says as he shoves an elbow lightly into Twilight’s side, causing the foaming head of the younger man’s drink to spill over onto the pelted hero’s fingers.

Twilight simply glares at the old man, but the action leaves Four staring at the group intently. Only three drinks in and already losing spatial awareness…?

“We thought it would be safer to travel together, what with all the monster sightings,” Warriors picks up, sending a quick look to Time.

“Wise,” the man says with a nod. Then his face darkens and he all but slams the cup he had been cleaning back onto the bar. “Especially now that that damn brat of a hero up and vanished,” he says with a hiss, eye bright and lips pulled back in distaste. “Fucking coward.”

Four feels his blood go cold at the comment. Anger rises in him, an unstoppable tide of emotion roiling in his chest and begging to slam upward and out of his throat with a nasty comment. He beats down the instinct, pressing himself more fully against the pot behind him. Grounding.

Time’s face goes hard and cold. Twilight’s hand tightens minutely on the handle of his cup. The jovial light leaves Warriors eyes for a moment, before the captain plasters an understanding smile back on his face.

Above him, Four notices that the scuffling from the fairy has resumed but the smithy doesn't pay it any mind. Instead, the small Link takes another quick glance around the bar. Same men in front. Same lady in the alcove. Same Sky dozing peacefully at the table. Still no sign of Hyrule.

Maybe it’s better that way.

“He probably has a lot to do, taking care of the other villages and such. I’m sure he’s trying his best,” Warriors grits out with a smile, trying to strike the delicate balance between defending their friend and trying not to appear too contradictory to the man they were trying to get information out of.

The man just rolls his eyes and grunts back.

“Anyway,” Time cuts in, obviously trying to get the conversation back on track , “Have you heard much about these monster sightings? We wanted to make sure to avoid anywhere too dangerous on our way out.”

“Leaving so soon?” The bartender asks.

“Unfortunately yes. My sons and I were hoping to get home as soon as possible.”

“And we were hoping to be headed to our destination tomorrow, providing the weather holds,” Twilight says.

Four watches as a smile pulls at the bartender’s lips. It looks more like a grimace and Four wonders if the man even knows how to express any form of emotion other than irritation.

“Well then,” he says, gathering up the heroes’ cups. He turns to the back wall and pulls out the small barrel he had been using to fill their drinks and pours, filling the cups back up to the brim.

“We really shouldn’t–” Time tries to get out, but the man ignores him, instead sliding the glasses back in front of the three. Then, he quickly turns back to the bottles on the back wall and selects one for himself, pouring the red liquid into a cup and holding it out.

“To safe travels,” he announces.

“To safe travels,” the three heroes chorus back, with less enthusiasm, holding up their own glasses.

And then the four drink.

And as they drink, Four watches as the bartender’s eyes remain locked on the heroes, watching to see them finish their drinks.

Four feels his blood go as cold as the pot behind him.

Shit.

Time and Twilight almost throw the cups from their lips, disgusted expressions on their faces as they do.

Warriors, having stood up to take the biggest swig of the three, slams his glass down and coughs. As he tries to get a handle on his breathing his knees begin to shake. The captain sits back heavily onto his stool, a dizzy expression pulling at his handsome features.

“That one…” Warriors starts before his tongue seems to get tied. His eyebrows furrow and he blinks his eyes a few times, trying to clear them. “That one tasted different,” he finishes, sounding like he was speaking through numb lips.

“Oh it would,” the bartender admits easily, turning his back on the heroes to push the barrel back into place. “A higher dosage will do that to a drink.”

Time and Twilight slam themselves away from the bar, mirroring each other as they clumsily pull their swords from their scabbards. Warriors trips over his stool as he follows them, but instead of pulling out his own weapon, stumbles toward a table. His old table.

“S-Sky!” he slurs urgently, shoving at the chosen heroes shoulder. “Wake up!”

Sky’s face doesn't even twitch. His breathing remains deep and even. Unnaturally so.

In the front of the bar, the two men playing cards have stopped their game, once relaxed smiles going sharp and wide. They stand, cards forgotten as they slowly approach the heroes, hands turning to claws as they close in.

The woman from the alcove straightens and for the first time Four can clearly see her face. Her nose is large and flat against her face, nostrils flared. Her eyes are wide apart and yellow, without pupils. Where her mouth should be is instead a muzzle, full of sharp teeth and dripping the red substance she had been drinking earlier.

Blood. One part of his mind supplies helpfully.

Her once hylian looking ears grow and grow and grow until they are massive, pointing upward and ridged on the inside. She stands on thin, spindly limbs and two wings pull themselves from her back, the membrane between the– fingers? They appear to be keese people so technically wouldn’t those be fingers? But they're on her back? I don't think that's important right now!– the membrane between the ridges of her wings are thin and clearly veined in the firelight of the bar.

The man behind the bar turns back to the heroes, having undergone a similar transformation, a gleeful smile showing off fangs.

Warriors, unable to rouse Sky, instead pulls the young man from the stool and drags his body to Twilight and Time’s side. That accomplished, the captain tries to pull himself to his feet, but his knees fail him, leaving him slumped on the floor with his back against the bar and an unconscious Sky next to him. He grabs the Master Sword from Sky’s back and holds it in front of himself defensively.

Time and Twilight flank themselves on either side of the incapacitated heroes, though Four notes with mounting horror that they are not uneffected by the drink either. Twilight keeps shaking his head,trying to clear his vision and Time’s grip on his sword looks weak, like the blade is too heavy for his arm.

We have to get in there! A tsunami of anger and fear sending his heart jumping from his chest to his brain to his stomach to his ribs.

We need a plan first! Blisters back, a whirlwind of thoughts tearing at Four’s brain as he tries to run through options. He needs a portal. Now.

He focuses on the old magic he knows so well, letting the bubbling feeling of its energy settle in his chest. It crackles under his ribs, a fire sparking at fresh wood, filling him with warmth. Slowly, the sparks pull inward, filling his lungs with popping energy. He breathes out, the sparks flying up and out and leading him forward. And… there!

Down in the alcove the old keese-woman had been occupying, a lone blue and white pot sits, tipped on its side.

Go Go Go Go Gogogogogogogo!

Wait! Screeches a third, a bolt of lightning splitting a tree, the thought spreading through his mind like a forest fire. The others! What about the signal?

Four’s eyes flash down toward the corner Legend was occupying.

The hero turned drawing has pulled himself out from behind the boxes, now his entire head and one arm visible. His hand moves frantically, palm facing out. He cycles through four positions over and over and over again, hand shaking slightly back and forth, as though making sure he catches only the attention of those who might be looking at him.

He holds up three fingers. Then he curls his hand into a fist, thumb resting outside the fist against the pointer finger. His pinky then sticks out, the thumb coming to rest over his other three fingers. Finally, his hand clenches back into a fist, thumb tucked under the pointer finger, it’s tip sticking out from the knuckles of his hand.

W-A-I-T  

Screw that! We need to help them now!

No, Legend is right. If we jump in now, we could compromise the situation. Make them angrier. More likely to fight. If they think they have the upper hand, they may let something slip.

And if we wait for the signal, at least we know one other person is jumping in with us. A more coordinated assault.

Four’s hand twitches over the pommel of the Four Sword, a finger tracing the gem there. He draws the blade but just holds it at the ready. A compromise.

“What did you put in our drinks?” demands Time as he levels the Biggoron sword at the bartender. The man? Keese? laughs with a squeaky voice, the sound grating on Four’s ears.

“Just something to help you relax,” he says, amber eyes alight with satisfaction. “It seemed to have worked just fine on your friend there, but you three needed a larger dose. I’m honestly impressed.”

Using two clawed fingers, he pushes the sword away from his face, grin widening as Time’s grip on the pommel falters.

“Stop playing with your food and cut to the chase,” hisses a new voice impatiently.

Across from him, the grate over Wind and Wild’s hiding place rattles. Four clamps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting out.

I knew it Just as I suspected Well shit But she seemed so nice!

And low and behold, the woman from the shop emerges from the back room, nose flat and flared, massive ears back in anger and amber eyes lacking pupils.

“You.” Time says, words coming from between gritted teeth. He brings his other hand up, now  using both arms to hold up the sword. Beside him, Twilight’s blinks are getting longer and slower as he faces down the three monsters approaching them from the back.

The Master Sword clatters to the ground as Warriors slumps over completely, practically laying on top of Sky.

The shopkeep narrows her eyes at Time.

“Where is the hero?” She demands, flexing a hand to display her claws.

“I don't know what you mean.” Time replies coldy.

The woman hisses, air slicing between her fangs. “Don’t bother lying! That kid of yours had his blood on his sleeve. I could smell it!”

Our fault...

Without pausing, the woman fishes around in the pocket of her dress for a second before she pulls out another key, the bronze flashing in the dim light of the bar.

“I went to the house,” Four’s stomach drops to his feet. “Your brats weren't there. Are they in on it? Where are you hiding him?”

Time’s eyes widen at her words, the drugs probably muddling his head enough to make it difficult for the man to try to hide any of his feelings.

She tilts her head at his expression and then sneers at him.

“You thought they were still there,” she says voice disbelieving and flat. A sardonic laugh pushes it’s way past thin lips. “Man, you must be a real shit father if you can’t keep track of two injured kids.”

The shopkeep stalks forward, closer to Time. Meanwhile, the bartender loops around the otherside, closing in on the old man’s blind side. The three others staring down Twilight move forward, snarling.

Despite everything telling him to watch his friends, Four keeps his eyes glued to Legend.

Wait. C’mon, c’mon! Stay calm! Ughhh!

“They smell like him,” The bartender says conversationally. “And not just that they’ve been around him. Something about them smells… familiar.”

“If we can’t find the brat, maybe we could just use their blood instead,” Pipes up one of the card playing men as he eyes Twilight, not daring to step any closer with a blade still held pointed at his chest.

“No!” the shopkeeper spits, amber eyes ablaze and lips pulled into a snarl. “It has to be him! For the power he stole from our master! For stealing this world from us!  A drop of blood for every monster he ever killed.”

Wait for it…

“I want to see the light leave his fucking eyes as the world comes down around him.”

An eruption of purple and an arm pulling itself from the wall sets several things in motion at once.

A sharp slam echos through the room as a metal grate strikes stone. The skittering from above resolves into a heavy clunk as something heavier drops from the rafters. Four takes a running leap and dives off the shelf, Roc’s cape billowing behind him as he slices through the air, a tiny arrow aimed straight toward the pot.

He slams into the back of the ceramic, and the bubbling, popping, geyser of magic erupts inside him. It jumps from his chest, condensing into blue runes that jump and jive and dance around his head, circling circling circling. The energy still in his chest breathes in, breathes out, and then expands, pushing at his bones, pushing at his skin. Four feels the magic push past his physical boundaries, and the smithy throws himself out of the pot as he grows.

Four brandishes the Four Sword in front of him.

Across from him, Legend stands in the fading purple light of his own magic, flame rod in one hand and a shield in the other. He looks angry. Angrier than Four thinks he’s ever seen the veteran hero look, canines bared in the cruelest smile the smithy has ever witnessed.

Wind stands triumphant in front of the unconscious Warriors and Sky, Phantom Sword held out in challenge for anyone to get near.

Wild, meanwhile, kneels on the bar, strightbacked as he aims his bow at the three monsters who had been approaching Twilight. Three electrical arrows sit knocked against the champion’s string, barely restrained by his knuckles.

And behind those surprised monsters, stands Hyrule.

For the barest of seconds, hazel eyes cloud over with regret. Guilt. But then that second ends. A pink, golden glow seems to blossom in Hyrule’s eyes, a beautiful dahlia growing in his pupils. The smell of ozone fills the air. Sparks of electricity hiss and sputter between the brunets fingers, dancing to an unseen beat.

The traveling hero extends his hand to the shopkeeper.

“You want me? Come and get me.”

And then everything explodes.

The shopkeeper lets out a scream of fury, her wings flapping thunderously to propel her toward Hyrule. Four lunges forward, slashing into the keese person closest to him; the old woman. She lets out a hiss as the blade bites into her shoulder and then a scream as her body seizes up. Her wings twitch and convulse unnaturally, arcs of greenish, yellow energy crawling over her skin.

Wild must have released his barrage, Four thinks, if the two matching screams are anything to go by.

Time dives forward, stabbing one of the card players while Twilight takes a large step forward, letting the momentum of the movement throw him into a spin attack, his sword scoring deep lacerations into the monsters’ stomachs.

Almost makes this too easy. Part of him thinks viciously as Four takes the moment of vulnerability to drive the Four Sword through the hag’s chest. Her scream cuts off as the pain causes her lungs to freeze in their tracks. A claw rakes across the smithy’s arm but he ignores it, pressing the blade in deeper.

She coughs, and blood– her own or perhaps others– splatters into Four’s face and hair. The glow behind her yellow eyes fades and then in a plume of noxious black smoke, she is gone.

A blast of heated air pushes into Four’s face, almost causing him to close his eyes against the warmth. In front of him, a tower of swirling flame erupts from the wooden floor, engulfing the bartender. His screams rise, too high to be human as the smell of burnt hair and skin clogs the air. The light of the flames dances in Legend’s eyes as the screeches slowly fade away, no sympathy in poisonous blue eyes.

Seeing the last two monsters staggered from Twilight’s hit and frozen with fear from Legend’s display, Four rolls to the floor behind them, dragging his sword across the back of their knees as he moves past.

One falls forward with a cry, soon silenced as Wind slashes into his neck with the Phantom Sword.  The other falls backward, another arrow sticking from his eye courtesy of Wild.

Legend strides through their fading smoke, fire rod glowing and held at the ready to help Hyrule.

The traveling hero thrusts his shield forward, blocking a wide arching slash from the woman’s claws. The nails hit the metal with a clang. She changes tactics, gripping the sides of the sheild with both hands, pulling Hyrule closer to her gnashing teeth.

While she goes for the face, Hyrule aims low, slashing into her legs with his sword. With a cry, she lets go of the shield and turns quickly, slamming one of her wings into the unsuspecting hero, knocking him back a few steps.

Legend takes advantage of the brief moment of separation, swinging his fire rod in a downward arc. A wall of fire flares between the two combatants, separating the snarling woman from the panting hero.

By the time the flames die down, Hyrule is flanked by both Legend and Four, weapons and shields raised. To the side, Wild raises his bow once more and Wind readies a boomerang.

“Last words?” Legend asks.

The woman doesn't even look at the veteran, amber eyes locked on Hyrule. Her eyes trace a single bead of blood that rolls from the teens bottom lip where the skin has split from the force of her wing attack.

“We’ll never stop, hero,” she says, spitting the last word with all the venom in the world. “You will never know a moment of peace! Not until that cowardly little heart of yours beats its last.”

Her face suddenly lights up with glee, eyes flicking between Hyrule and Legend and then back to all the others, landing on each one of them in turn.

“They don’t know, do they?” She asks, voice squeaky with her giggles, fear mingling with the laughs, making them sound desperate and breathy. Her amber eyes sweep over them. “If you knew what power lies in his blood, you’d be tripping over yourselves to kill him too.”

A sharp, bark of laughter cuts through the air. Legend steps more fully in front of the woman, shoving the fire rod in her face as he cuts off her line of sight from Hyrule.

“Okay, listen here you overgrown piece of guano, ‘cause I’m feeling generous. I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he says.

“Ever heard of the Hero of Legend?” Her flat nose scrunches and her ears flick in confusion. At her tentative nod, the veteran hero pulls at one end of his tunic, as he gives a small mocking curtsey. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” he says with a nasty smile.

"So if you’ve heard of me, then you know what I did?” he asks, staring at her intently.

“You supposedly killed Ganon,” she says, eyes wide. Legend clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Partially right.”

The spherical red orb on the end of the fire rod glows brighter and Four sees the air around it grow shimmery, heat radiating off it as Legend holds it closer to the keese woman. She shrinks away from it, her back hitting the wall.

“See, I’ve killed Ganon three times.” He presses the fire rod closer, the outer edge of the orb now licked with small flames. Blue eyes are locked with amber, an ocean pulling the sun into its depths at the end of the day, drowning it. “I’ve traveled through time, fixing the past to change the future. I’ve changed the seasons with the flick of a wand. I’ve walked through the cracks of the universe and came out fine on the other end.”

“I’ve woken sleeping gods,” he grits out. Legend finally seems to come back to himself pulls and himself back away from the monstrous woman. Four watches as she relaxes minutely as the hero steps away, standing at Hyrule’s side once more.

“I’ve seen enough power. Not interested.” With a small circle of the rod, embers erupt around the woman, a tight circle of small fires pinning her in place. She lets out a sharp gasp as the flames slink in closer and grow like terrifying bright poppies.

“I don’t know where you all go where you die but tell your friend this: if I find even a hair out of place on his head, he won't be the one who has to worry about being hunted, got it?”

Before she can get out a response, the fires converge, twining together first into a cage and then a singular pillar. It flares up up up toward the ceiling, the heat so great that Four finds himself stumbling backward from it, wishing he had his protective gear and goggles on.

And then, just as fast as it had flashed upward, the fire extinguishes itself, only a blackened spot on the ground and a swirl of purple smoke a sign that it had ever existed.

“Good.”

SIlence reigns over the now empty bar, all eyes locked on Legend.

Holy shit.  Rises like a bubble to the surface of Four’s mind.

“Holy shit,” says Wind. Four nods at the sentiment. Because really, there isn’t anything else to say.

…

Getting everyone back to the house is a production.

Wind, using his power bracelets, bridal carries the unconscious Warriors the whole way back, a smug smile on the sailor’s face as the captain’s scarf drags behind him in the mud. Legend takes up a similar job, but instead carries the still snoring Sky slumped over on his back in a very awkward looking piggyback ride.

Wild supports a dizzy looking Twilight, in an ironic reversion of the day before. Time, whose legs seem to have failed him completely, is hunched over Hyrule and Four’s own shoulders as the two younger heroes all but drag the older man through the streets of Saria Town.

Once again, Four has to thank the goddesses for making sure not too many citizens witness their procession. Not for the first time since they’ve arrived here, the smithy is glad that this isnt his Hyrule. He won't have to be the one to explain this.

Thankfully, they’re able to get back to the house without incident.

“They’ll be fine,” Hyrule says with a weary smile as he and Legend leave the room they had designated as the infirmary. Four lets a breath of air out through his lips. Beside him, Wild and Wind visibly relax as well.

“They’ll just have some pretty nasty hangovers tomorrow,” Legend puts in, with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“So, you’re saying I can’t scream ‘Told you so’ as soon as they wake up?” Wind asks, head tilted and face innocent. 

Legend shrugs his shoulders. “It would be a real dick move. But we deserve payback so, go nuts, kid.”

“On the topic of what just happened,” Hyrule cuts in, eyes cast down to the floor, “I wanted to apologize to everyone.”

The traveling hero clutches at his chest, hand fisted in his green tunic.

“I told you all it was safe here. And I-I was wrong about that,” the teen’s voice catches in his throat. He swallows thickly a few times and then finally raises his head, looking at each of them in turn with sorrowful hazel eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Wild shakes his head vigorously. “There was no way you could have known this was going to happen.” Hyrule opens his mouth to argue, but the champion barrels forward, voice powerful. “It’s never your fault that people want to kill you for being you. That's not something you can control and definitely not something to apologise about,” he says. Empathy burns in the champion’s eyes, and for a second, Four wonders if Wild is reciting someone else’s words.

Words that he has heard himself a million times and internalized. Words that are etched into his brain.

Hyrule looks like he wants to argue further, but Legend places a hand on the younger hero’s shoulder, capturing his attention. He shakes his head once, eyes intent. The traveling hero slumps under the other’s gaze.

“Thanks,” he manages, a weak smile pointed at them

WIld brightens. “No problem. Now,” he says, changing the subject and trying to lighten the mood.  “Dinner.”

Wind immediately perks up. “Soup! Soup! Soup!” He chants, following behind Wild as the older heads toward the kitchen.

“We had soup last night.”

“Not seafood soup! That’ll make everyone better in no time!”

Their voices fade as they turn out of the hallway and into the living room.

Hyrule and Legend make no move to follow them. Neither does Four.

The tentative smile that had fallen onto Hyrule’s face crumbles, leaving him somber. Resigned. There are bags under his eyes, Four notes suddenly with a hint of worry. He wonders how much magic the other hero had just used to make sure their friends were stable. He wonders how tired the other must be.

“I’m assuming you want answers,” Hyrule says, looking more exhausted and sad with each word. “What she said about me–”

“I don't care about that,” Four says, causing Hyrule’s head to pop up and eyes widen in slight surprise. “It wasn’t her secret to tell.”

All of the events from the past two days: The injuries, the anger, fear, regret, all of it adds fuel to the fire burning through Four’s chest and searing into his brain. The fire that tells him to comfort and protect.

We can hug him now, right? The fire asks, bright and hopeful and maybe just a little bit desperate for physical affection.

Yes. Comes a reply, easy as a summer breeze.

Ughhh do we have to? Ever the rain cloud on a sunny day.

Don’t play coy. Says the last.

Four’s arms slowly encircle Hyrule’s middle, allowing the other time to pull away if he wanted to. When he doesn't, the smithy leans into the embrace and squeezes. The traveling hero doesn't respond at first, muscle tensed and breath caught in his throat. However, slowly but surely, warm arms fold themselves around Four’s back and Hyrule’s chin comes to rest on the top of the smithy’s head.

“What information you choose to share with us is yours to decide,” Four says against the other’s chest, the words almost sounding too formal for the situation at hand, but heartfelt nonetheless. “I won’t think any less of you if you want to keep this to yourself.”

Four feels Hyrule nod, the older’s chin leaving the top of his head for only the barest of moments.

They stand like this for a moment. Eventually, Hyrule’s grip on him lessens, indicating to Four that he should let go. Part of him doesn't want to. Hell, actually, all of him doesn't want to. He does anyway.

Legend lets out an awkward cough, that almost has Four rolling his eyes as he and Hyrule fully pull apart.

Really, the vetreran hero had the emotional range of a Deku Scrub. No, less than that. A Leever.

“Maybe a smaller secret would be easier to start with?” Legend suggests, with a raised eyebrow and and a smile. “Namely, how the holy Hylia both of you got into the bar? Both of you seemed to appear out of thin air when I gave the signal.”

Four and Hyrule look at each other and then back at Legend.

“Trade secret.” Four says with a smile as he walks past the older hero and into the living room. Behind him, Hyrule lets out a sharp snort of laughter while Legend makes a mock offended noise at being brushed off so easily.

There was a sound from the rafters and then Hyrule appeared, right?

Hmmmm

Four lets a laugh bubble up from his throat.

Yes. A smaller secret indeed.

[imacrowcawcaw]

Eyes of Juniper Ch. 2

Chapter 1 -- Ao3 link

Chapter Summary: James wakes up to the 'surprise you've gone mental' to end all 'surprise you've gone mental's

Notes: I wrote this chapter over a year ago and I haven’t changed it a bit, including the notes: Okay, so, I'm a slightly gender critical woman and a feminist (if you feel the need to fight me on this don't just ignore my story and leave pls) so this story is kinda uncomfortable for me to write at moments. I'm trying to be realistic to the general views/actions of male metalheads from the 80s.... But that also means there is a lot of objecting and misogynistic stuff being said. I apologize, obviously I do not at all actually support this stuff in life, but I felt I should warn it is there. I want to state again that I do not actually view women this way, and I fucking hate how we're objectified, stereotyped, and shoved into the bullshit gender boxes, but there wouldn't be a story of i didn't. Okay, now back to the show

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(James' POV)

I was awoken by a shriek at bumfuck o'clock this morning, and I was not happy about it. Who the hell is screaming this early in the morning? Well, judging from what I can hear past the bongos in my head, it was two chicks having a fight upstairs. Great.

Also, why the fuck was I down here when my bed was on the second floor of this shitty house? Ah, yes, fuckin' Lars. Little shit had to go and bring home some hippy dippy chick (no disrespect meant, Cliff), which of course meant I had to vacate the premises of our room so he could give her a mediocre fuck.

I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to rub away the crust from my eyes and the drool spilling down my chin. A chipped coffee mug and half empty water bottle were suddenly being held in front of me and I squinted up at the source. Cliff!

I slowly sat up, groping around on the back of the couch for some leverage that wasn't coated in tacky month old beer. He patiently waited for me to be upright then handed me the water and coffee. Man, Cliff is by far the best person in the world!

After I had drained both containers, he hauled me to my feet and asked, "Dude, who're the chicks?"

I shook my head, then winced as last night's tequila throbbed. "I don't know, man, probably came back to the house with us. I remember Lars grabbing that chick, did Kirk get one too?"

Cliff looked thoughtful. "Nah, at least I don't think so. He said he was too tired from yesterday morning," he implied with a lewd grin.

I snorted and walked towards the stairs. Despite what some people might think, I didn't have a problem with gay guys. I mean, yeah sure, maybe when I was younger, but seeing two of my closest friends, especially the amazing Cliff Burton, so happy together I just couldn't keep thinking that it was bad. So, no, I didn't really have a problem with it, but I totally teased them. What are friends for, after all?

"Hey, ladies, we do appreciate the service you've done our ugly ass friends, but could you keep the cat fight down until you've left the house?" I yelled, still trying to figure out where the second chick had come from. Maybe Lars had grabbed two? I was pretty sure that I hadn't brought anybody home last night, at least.

Cliff must have followed me up, because he suddenly was leaning on the railing, observing the two petite, scantily clad girls hugging on the landing.

"Aww, they've made up! Good! Now, can I ask what exactly you two were yelling about so loudly that it woke me and my boy James up? Did Lars do something?" He asked, smiling at them, although I could see the confusion in his eyes.

The brunette chick stood up straight and turned to us with a sneer, "I did fucking not!" she replied.

"Holy shit, Lars!?!" I screamed. That looked a lot like Lars, at least. Those swirling Juniper eyes, the little upturned nose, the pouty pink lips. Hell, even the slight accent as he (she?) sassed me was perfect. Did I just walk into an episode of the fuckin Twilight Zone?

"Hi, Jamie," Lars?! sighed, letting go of the other girl to step back and run a hand through his hair.

"What. The. Fuck." It was all I could think to say. I mean seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? What had happened between right now and last night to turn Lars into a (admittedly very hot) girl?

"I don't focking know, man," Lars sighed again, "I woke up, went to piss and my dick wasn't there. Then I heard Kirk scream and that chick I brought home last night started jabbering some shit about respect for women and turned Kirk too, then she fucking disappeared!"

I stood there for a minute, staring at him and taking it all in. It was at that moment I really noticed Kirk, too. Now that Lars had stepped away from him, I could see the slim, still mostly Kirk-like but definitely female, body shuddering in the dingy light from the window down the hall.

Cliff strode over to Kirk then and reached out a hand, gently cupping his cheek so that he could look at him. Kirk still looked bewildered and frightened, but seemed to calm down once he felt Cliff's touch. My bassist moved in closer, murmuring something to Kirk that had him blush and bury himself in Cliff's arms.

Lars seemed to have reached the same conclusion as me: they needed some privacy to talk and calm Kirk down, because he grabbed my arm and led me back downstairs to the couch.

I settled back against the lumpy cushion and waited for him to say something, because I sure as hell couldn't think of anything.

"So, I've been cursed, I guess," he said, sounding a lot more dejected than he had up there.

"Yeah, obviously," shit, I should maybe not sound like an asshole right now, this is a delicate situation! "You said the girl you brought home last night did this to you because of you disrespecting women. You DID grab her ass... "

Lars had the decency to look ashamed, "...well yeah, buT THEN SHE CHANGED HER MIND AND WENT HOME WITH ME."

Oh, great, and now he's getting all defensive and angry like he does when it even sounds like you're insinuating something about his game or sexuality or whatever.

"Dude, she probably went home with you to do this." He harrumphed at my superior logic and crossed his arms, inadvertently drawing my attention to one of the new additions to his physique.

"Alright, so you were a dick and she cursed you to get back at you. Weird magic, but nothing new. But what the fuck happened to Kirk?"

[fanficsbytoast]

Mischief Tango Chapter 1

After Tyler Cowie has a disastrous run-in with the Tesseract, she has to team up with the god (or sometimes goddess) of mischief to get rid of her new powers. Or at least, that’s plan.

Warnings for story: M Language, T violence, T sex

Warnings for chapter: M language

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

I don’t think this date could have gone much worse if I’d shown up in clown shoes and a Darth Vader mask. I tiredly stared at the guy across from me, resting my face in my hand while he tapped away on his phone.

        “You like…medieval literature, right?” I asked, hoping to make this less awkward.

        “14th century manuscripts,” he said bluntly.

        I bit back a ‘isn’t that the same thing’ by taking a long drink of water.

        Brendon had been a lot friendlier a couple of days ago, when we’d run into each other in a coffee shop. Oh, yeah, it had been real cute and cliché when I’d bumped into him, knocking his drink all over him and then buying him another. Then we’d hit it off because I was carrying books with me and he was a bookbinder.

        By basic romance literature standards, we were basically made for each other. But it turns out that you needed more than just a common interest to click with someone.

        “Do you like any…like, modern books?” I asked. I traced my fork around my plate, drawing little rake-marks in the cheese sauce of my pasta.

        He snorted. “Modern writing lacks even the most basic literary competence. It’s nothing more than the same tropes recycled with angst and poor grammar.”

        I held back a grimace. “Oh.”

        Giving up, I stared down at the book on my lap. First off, I know it was rude, and secondly, this was Twilight and any normal, thinking person would be appalled by it. Maybe it was just a sign of how terrible this date was, but I thought the book was hilarious.

        I took another drink of water, my gaze still on the words.

        Wait, did it just compare the freaking vampire to a disco ball?

        Before I could stop myself, I snorted water right out of my nose and onto the table…and into Brendon’s face. The poor guy sat there in shock, and I stared on in complete mortification.

        “Oh gosh, I’m sorry—um, here!” I grabbed the nearest napkin and tried to wipe some of it off his face.

        “Tyler—” He tried to push me off, but I ended up knocking over his wine glass into his lap.

        At this point, all I could do was close my eyes.

        “I’ve…got to go,” he said stiffly. “I forgot—”

        “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

        “Eleanor—”

        “Tyler. Just go.”

        The table shifted as he got up and, and I didn’t open my eyes again until I was sure he was gone. At that point I just paid the tab, only to realize that Brendon had left the whole thing for me to pay for.

        Jerk. I shoved some breadsticks into my purse and got the heck out of there.

        Two months. I was two months into trying to ‘restart my life’ and I had suffered through five failed job interviews and eleven failed (or even set-up) dates.

        I wandered out onto the busy London sidewalk, a lump forming in my throat.

        Maybe I should call my parents back in New York. I hadn’t spoken to them in a month; even though those aliens had stormed Manhattan less than a year ago. My parents lived outside the city, but still: Aliens! Actual aliens! What if they came back?

        And superheroes? I could hardly believe they were real, either.

        A car roared by and slid through a puddle, sending a sheet of mucky water sloshing into me. I squealed and jumped back, but it was too late. The muddy water was all over my dress.

        I wanted to cry. A nineteen-year-old woman shouldn’t cry over a bad date or a ruined dress, but I was done. I’d been trying my darnedest for weeks, and I was no closer to turning my life around than when I first got off that plane.

        I covered my mouth and took a deep breath. People were probably wondering why a muddy girl was hanging around the sidewalk with tears in her eyes.

        Oddly enough, the place was empty.

        I’d never seen the sidewalks and streets so devoid of life, especially out here by all the restaurants and night life. Maybe I’d taken a wrong turn or something?

        I looked down at my phone for directions. My GPS would have to tell me how to get home. I’d walked here with Brendon and he’d left me, so there was no telling if I was even heading towards my appartment.

        “Damn it, Brendon,” I muttered under my breath. I thought about calling him and just asking for some directions, but I didn’t want to hear his voice or see his face or anything until I had some time to cool off. Right now, I kind of wanted to put worms in his shoes.

        That wouldn’t be fair to the poor worms.

        At least if I calmed down, I could drag him with some dignity: I bought you a donut! You shared it with me! I LET YOU USE MY STARBUCKS POINTS TO ORDER YOUR CHAI LATTE!

        Seriously, was there a way to refund those? Like an I-just-got-dumped-on-the-first-date refund?

        “Your game is over.”

        Say what now? I looked around to try and find out who was speaking, but all I could see were shadows and the soft, dancing glow of the streetlights.

        “I’m sorry,” said a softer, yet no less cold, voice. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re—”

        “Shut it, Asgardian.”

        The voices were coming from down an alleyway. What kind of a name was Asgardian? Sheesh, that was even worse than Eleanor.

        Seriously, though, was someone getting mugged? Nah, these guys seemed to know each other. Maybe it was a drug bust.

        “You have it,” said the rough voice. “We know you do.”

        “Have what?” asked the softer. It was taunting.

        “You know what we mean. We want the casket. Now hand it over.”

        I started to hurry on my way, but then a blue light shone around the corner of the building. What the heck…?

        I should run. I should definitely run. But what was that light coming from?

        My ‘monkey brain’ won out and I crept between the buildings until I was just at the corner of the alley It stretched on, long and narrow, between the shops and houses and the privacy wall behind them. At the far end, where a wall blocked off all escape, stood a man dressed in a long coat.

        He cornered by two towering, hunched creatures. And even despite the blue light, I could tell that they truly were blue. Like, Blue Raspberry Jolly Rancher blue—like giant, mean-looking Smurfs.

        But my attention was drawn to the source of the light. The man in the coat was holding a blue box in one hand, and it glowed so brightly that it illuminated the entire alleyway.

        “That’s not the casket,” growled one of the big evil Smurf creatures. “What have you done with it?”

        “Oh, I don’t have it,” said the man, eyeing them with contempt. I could just make out his facial features: Smooth and elegant, but harsh and full of hatred for the things standing before him. His eyes glittered with anger. “Odin is keeping it in his treasure hoard. I would suggest that you go to him if you’re so interested in the Casket of Winters.”

        Was this some kind of role-play? Like that guy with a LARP group I’d ran into a few weeks ago?

        Ugh, he’d stood me up.

        One of the monsters raised his arm. In the blue glow, I saw a shimmering weapon extend from his hand.

        It was a blade of ice.

        Okay, definitely not some kind of Live Action Role Play. This was real.

        “Now,” said the man, a little smile on his lips, “what good could come in killing me without reason?”

        “Oh, we have a reason,” said the other creature. “You killed Laufey.”

        Holy—what? This guy had killed somebody?

        The man laughed. “Preposterous. How would I ever have the opportunity to do that?”

        “You lured our King into the heart of Asgard and killed him where he stood.”

        “I gave Laufey every opportunity to kill Odin,” said the man. “It’s his own fault he was an incompetent beast who couldn’t even defeat a few guards.”

        “That’s a funny thing,” said the monster. “I heard it was you who killed him. You saved Odin’s life, that’s what the rumors said.”

        “Well, people have been known to spread gossip,” said the man, beaming with that salty, fake smile again. “I can assure you that—”

        “You are a liar and a murderer,” snarled the monster with the blade. “And you will pay for your transgressions against Jotunheim!”

        Yoda what now? I didn’t think they were talking about Star Wars.

        Despite every fiber of my rational mind screaming for me to get out of there, I crept a little closer, hunkering just around the corner of the nearest building so I could hear better.

        I knew it was stupid. This was murder and who knew what else. But it’s not every day that you start seeing stuff that could have come straight out of Star Trek, and my butt was not moving.

        “Now would that truly be wise?” asked the man. He was completely unphased by the monsters’ threats, which made me think he was probably even dumber than I was. “I regret to say this, but I have been humoring you.” He raised the glowing cube. “Do you know what this is?”

        “I don’t care,” said the monster who seemed to be the leader.

        “You say that, but with its power I could defeat the both of you with a wave of my hand.” The monsters glanced at each other, and the man grinned again. “So why don’t we end these negotiations on a pleasant note, in which we go our separate ways and you don’t interfere with my plans?”

        The monsters glanced at each other, but then they stepped aside. The man waved his hand and the cube suddenly disappeared.

        It was all starting to make sense. All this talk with names I couldn’t pronounce? Weird creatures? Mysterious creepy magician man? I was in an anime.

        Just kidding. No, I was witnessing a legit alien invasion—or maybe the alien mafia. It didn’t matter. I needed to get out of here before they realized I was watching them.

        I turned around, only to collide into a wall. Except, it wasn’t a wall. I stumbled back, and in the pale light of the overhead lamp, I could see the man in the long coat. Even in the shadows, I could see the glower on his face.

        Shit! How’d he get here so fast?

        I tried to run past him, but he grabbed my arm and dragged me around the corner and into the alley.

        “I don’t suppose this is yours?” he asked the monsters. I tried to wrench and squirm out of his grasp, but he was unbelievably strong.

        Right. Aliens.

        Tyler, you fucking moron, why didn’t you run?

        “A mortal?” asked one of the monsters.

        “Mortal?” I repeated. “What the—”

        “You insult us,” said the other. “Just kill it and let’s get on with it. It’s probably a spy.”

        “I’m not a spy!” I said frantically. “I just heard voices and—I mean, I didn’t hear much—really! You guys were just, uh, talking about…um…Chicago, right? You know, cyanide, squish, spread eagles—"

        The man’s hand clapped over my face. I wanted to scream, but my mind was suddenly filled with flashing images of my past.

        I was at my third birthday party; donning a cheap, shimmering Cinderella dress that was two sizes too big while my then-dark curls got covered in pink frosting from my cake.

        And then I was seven, blonder headed now, playing in the hayloft of a pig barn at the state fair. My sister’s son, who wasn’t much older than I was, pushed me out and I landed in a mucky mess, surrounded by panicked, squealing pigs.

        I was sixteen now and staring to a mirror, half clothed, and wondering why my thighs looked like zebra legs.

        During my first driving lesson, I backed the car into my dad’s van. He yelled. I cried. He took me out for icecream and taught me to parallel park.

        I graduated. Got my license. I tried getting a job. And then I came here, and brief glimpses of my failed dates and job interviews flashed before me for mere seconds. I was walking down the street; I heard the voices in the alleyway. I saw it all play out again.

        And then it was over.

        A wave of exhaustion slammed into me, and my knees threatened to buckle under my weight.

        “She saw everything,” said the man.

        Wait, had he been reading my mind? Oh no. He’d seen everything. Even my zebra thighs.

        Maybe being killed by alien mobsters wasn’t so bad after all.

        “Then it must die,” said the monster with the weapon. I was about to ask what ‘it’, was, but then he raised the blade over my head. Oh. I was ‘it’. You know what? Never mind. This was much worse than my thighs.

        “Whoa!” I tried to back up, but Trench Coat there still had a hold of my arm. “Can’t you just, like, wipe my memory or something?”

        They all stopped.

        “What?” asked the man. I glanced between him and the monsters. Maybe I was getting somewhere.

        “Uh, y-you know. Like in Men in Black? If you can read my mind, you should be able to wipe—”

        My voice cut off in a squeal as the monster swung his weapon towards me. I raised my free arm to protect my face, but the man shoved me behind him.

        “Are you so thick as to think that her death would go unnoticed?” he growled. “I have no interest in alerting the entire city to my whereabouts.” He looked back at me, his gaze hard. “You won’t say a word, will you?”

        Words came tumbling out of my mouth. “Tell them what? I didn’t see anything. Who are you again?”

        “And if you do,” he leaned closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. He wasn’t as tall as the monsters, but he still towered over me. And he needed a mint. “I may not be as merciful as I am now.”

        I gulped, but I nodded frantically. I hardly knew what he was saying except that he was promising not to kill me. And right now, that was all I cared about.

        He shoved me away, and I stumbled before starting to hurry down the alley. I was almost around the corner when I glanced back at them again, just to see if they were about to jump me.

        The lead monster was now raising his weapon behind the Trench Coat man, who was staring me down with a horrible scowl. He didn’t even realize what was happening.

        “Look out!”

        I was too late. The blade struck through his back and out through his stomach, splattering blood across the pavement. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was cover my mouth as the man gasped and fell to the ground. The monsters looked to me. Uh-oh.

        Turning on my heel, I started booking it in the opposite direction. Something cracked like lightning, and a blast of cold energy crashed into me from behind and sent me sprawling onto the pavement. A freezing-cold hand gripped my ankle and dragged me back into the alley.

        I clawed at the ground and screamed, but the hand hoisted me right off the ground. It was one of the monsters. He sneered at me and raised his weapon again, his frozen fingers burning my skin like boiling water.

        With my free foot, I managed to kick him in the face. Let me tell you: A high-heel to the face is nothing to laugh about, even if you’re an eight-foot giant and I’m a relatively small (uh, short) woman. The monster howled and dropped me, and I hit the ground with what I imagined was a splat. The shock from the impact had me choking, but I somehow managed to scramble away.

        His arms swiped at me, but I dodged and dove between the shadows. I lost my shoes, tore my dress, and my hair was unpinned and flying around my face as I desperately avoided his weapon and hands.

        I rolled out of the way of his blade. This time, it collided with the stone so hard that it shattered on impact. The monster roared in pain, and I ran down the dark side of the alley to hide.

        A blue glow bathed the world around me. I ducked down behind a trash can and peered around to see what was happening. The man was hunched over and holding onto his stomach, but he clutched that blue cube thing in his hand.

        The monsters hesitated, but then the one nearest to him went to club him over the head. The man ducked to the side, and energy cracked around the alley, momentarily freezing the giants—and me—in place.

        The best I could describe it as was like two magnets repelling each other. I felt a crushing weight, but I couldn’t move at all. I could barely breathe, and blue light swirled around the alley like Disney fairy magic or something.

        Then the man cried out in pain, clutching at his wound. The energy cut out, releasing the lot of us. The nearest monster backhanded the guy across the alley, and he crashed into the privacy wall. The cube slid across the ground and landed a few feet away from me. Both monsters advanced.

        What was I supposed to do? That cube was obviously really powerful, and these guys were clearly like, well, villains. I couldn’t just let them have it!

        And so I dove for it. I threw myself out from behind the trashcan and grabbed the cube in my bare hands.

        “No!” screamed the man, but it was too late. Energy surged through my veins. Pain tore through my every nerve, but my mind was spasming. I couldn’t let go. It wouldn’t let me! I could feel the power holing up in my arms, but I couldn’t do anything to stop—

        BOOM. The energy in the cube exploded, sending the monsters, the man, me, a ton of trashcans, and a tomcat sailing through the air. My body slammed against the wall, and before I ever hit the ground, I was out cold.

[invaderdoom78]

Fright Twilight (the dumbeset title) part 6

Part 6 of @julielilac gifset

With the house of vampires now dead the two hunters, plus the twins, made the drive to the small cabin Peter had rented a few miles away from where they were. When they got there Charley immediately went and locked himself in his chosen room, barricaded himself inside, if the sound of something heavy scraping against the floor was anything to go by. Pulling Jane with him back into the small bathroom, Alec following close behind, Peter undid the knot he’d tied into his ripped off sleeve so he could take another look at the cut; it had healed up a bit, so there was no more bone visible, but it was still pretty deep and, if she was human, definitely would have needed stitches. “Shit” Peter swore, rolling up the sleeve of Janes dress, bringing her arm over to the sink “maybe this will help” he turned on the faucet, letting the water flow over the cut, hoping that it would wash away any remaining holy water so she could properly heal herself “Alec, can you get the first aid kit from the living room?” “Sure” Alec said, using his superhuman speed to move from the bathroom and back in less than a second with the first aid kit in hand “what do you need” “Hand me the gauze” Peter said, using a towel to pat away the water “Here” Alec said, pulling out the requested item Taking the gauze Peter gently wrapped it around Janes arm, wanting to re-wrap the cut not only to cover it but also because there was still some blood leaking out and he wanted to keep some type of pressure on it for the same reasons as before. As Peter was dressing his sister's injury Alec had decided to look through the medical bag when he found a pair of fake fangs. “Where’d you get these from?” Alec asked, pulling out the fangs “I’m not sure where those came from” Peter said, securing the end of the wrap “Can I have them?” Alec asked “Sure” Regardless of how long he'd been a vampire for Alec was still twelve, so he took the neon green fangs and immediately put them in his mouth despite the unamused look his sister gave him as he walked out of the small room. Flexing her fingers and rolling her wrist Jane testing the tightness of the gauze when something on the counter caught her eye. “Is this yours?” Jane asked, holding up a bottle of black nail polish “Yeah” Peter said, taking notice of the way she was looking at it, drawing out his next words a bit “do you want me to paint your nails for you?” Jane didn’t answer him instead, just staring at him as she handed him the bottle. Even if Peter’s not an illusionist, therefore not needing to adopt a gothic aesthetic, in this story he still enjoyed painting his nails black and applying liner to his eyelids on occasion, so he had no trouble painting hers or giving her eyeliner a bit more of an elaborate flare. Walking out into the living room the two saw Alec sitting on the floor, looking through the small pile of video games Charley had packed for the two to play to pass the time if the hunt had taken any longer than it had. Walking over to the T.V. Peter hooked the game station up to it and got everything set up as Alec walked over to him with his chosen game. Putting in Super Smash Bro’s the hunter explained how the controls worked as he walked back over to the couch handing one of the controls over to Alec so the two could play. “Jane thought Jerry was cute” Alec said, out of nowhere after a few rounds of the game “Alec!” Jane exclaimed, a light blush spreading across her cheeks “She liked his butt” Alec chuckled, grabbing a pillow that he could use as a shield “Stop it” Jane growled, glaring at her brother “If you weren’t there she would’ve tried to talk him into joining the Volturi” Alec said, holding the pillow in front of his face “Shut your stupid face!” Jane shrieked, the blush having darkened and spread to the rest of her face, trying to rip the pillow away so she could properly attack Alec Peter may not have had any biological siblings, but he had many foster brothers and sisters and despite his self isolative tendencies and mild distrust of his foster families there were many moments like this shared between him and them that brought a smile to his face seeing that even though Jane and Alec had been changed into monsters they were still able to share moments like this together. “Come on, Alec, don’t rat on your sister like that” Peter said “Why not?” Alec chuckled “Aro’s gonna find out anyway” “How about we do something else?” Peter suggested, looking around the room “like play some cards” Over the years the other Volturi members had taught the twins a lot of adult things, how to fight, sew, ect., but never things like how to play things like Black Jack or pool or really anything that could be used to gamble with. So grabbing his of deck of cards Peter sat them at the kitchen table and explained the rules of, and how to play poker as he dealt out the cards. After a handful of rounds Peter forced himself to go to bed, slipping out of his straps as he flopped into bed, only to wake up a few hours later from a nightmare, that was nowhere near as severe as the one he’d had a few days ago, and immediately reached out for the other side of the bed, searching for the body he was expecting to find next to him when he remembered what had happened and where he was, when he was struck with the overwhelming need to run out of the bedroom and check on the twins, spotting them sitting on the couch, in the dark, happily playing Super Smash Bros. together. Letting out a sigh of relief Peter ran both of his hands through his hair when he heard the lock on the front door tumbling unlocked. Slipping back into the bedroom, he grabbed his revolver and just as he was about to take aim at the door Aro stepped through the threshold. The two looked at each other for a long time, neither one saying a word to the other, just staring, feeling like they were both frozen to the spot and that time had stopped moving. Peter felt his blood run cold in both overwhelming bewilderment and fear as it was obviously Charley was in the cabin with them; after all, why would he need two suitcases and he could probably smell Chars blood. And he was the whole reason for the two’s fight. Their attention was finally drawn away from the other by Jane and Alec pausing their game. Turning to the twins Aro walked over to them, taking a seat on the couch next to them, while keeping Peter in his sight out of the corner of his eye as the hunter watched him. Holding up his hand Aro gently took Janes in his so he could get a look at her injured arm, removing the wrap looking at the now completely healed cut. “Come along” Aro said in almost a whisper, unable to look at Peter after having read Jane's thoughts “Bye, Peter” Alec said, as he and the two other vampires walked out of the cabin “Bye” Peter said softly, watching them leave “Christ” Charley said, peeking his head out of his room “I could feel that tension from my room” Peter gave him a confused look “yeah” he moved himself so he was sitting on top of the dresser he’d moved to block the door with “I didn’t realize the door opened outward instead of in when I moved the dresser” “How did you not notice that?” Peter asked “I don’t know!” Charley said shrilly “maybe I was too distracted by the fear of being murdered in my sleep by Jane” “Yeah that is somethin’ to be worried about” “So what happened with you and the dark haired guy anyway?” Charley asked “you two seemed fine a few days ago” “Shit happens” Peter sighed, walking into the kitchen to grab the unopened bottle of sangria he snatched from Jerrys before they left because he just couldn’t let it go to waste now could he “It’s three in the morning, Peter” Charley said, watching as Peter put the bottle to his lips, downing as much of it as he could in one go “ok”

[inkedmyths]

The Final Battle

Because someone wanted me to write this in fic form. Your welcome.

Based on a certain conversation I had with @draconiswinters

"How much longer do you think they'll be at it?"

"Hylia only knows."

Sky and Hyrule were sitting on the edge of a clearing, watching the argument continue. Sky had the Master Sword laying across his lap, a precaution since the Darks were sitting across on the other side of the glade. No fighting had happened yet. Well, not as in sword fighting. Noble and Warriors, on the other hand, had been yelling at each other for the better part of an hour.

"This is the bitch-off to end all bitch-offs," Legend could be heard muttering on the other end of the group of heroes. Several murmurs of agreement echoed from the others.

-

Meanwhile, the Darks sat on the other edge of the large clearing. Eternal was pinching the bridge of his nose, likely contemplating exactly what life choices he had made that had brought him to this point. Why was he putting up with this whole situation again? Probably because he was frankly too tired to do anything about it. Everything was grating on his nerves. Maybe they should just leave Noble here.

Tempest was lying on his back, his feet propped up on a tree. "I'm bored," he whined, stamping a foot against the wooden trunk. "I want to do something!"

"How about shutting up?" Snapped Conqueror. The taller Dark was rather miffed at not being able to punch his Light counterpart due to the ongoing fight.

"If anyone should shut up, it's Noble," Tempest grumbled back. Eternal sighed internally. They'd been sitting around for a while. Everyone was growing restless.

-

Back on the other side of the clearing with the Lights, things weren't going much better. Wild was fidgeting a lot, and it was clear his was practically vibrating with pent-up energy. The others were similarly looking bored and uncomfortable. The whole situation was a bit awkward.

"So... anyone up for a game of Go Fish?" Hyrule offered. "I have a deck of cards."

"I am!" Wind hopped up from his formerly seated position and bounced over, plopping down beside the brunet hero.

"Sure." Four slid over.

Legend shrugged, joining them. "Why not?"

Sky moved down off the rock he was sitting on to join them. He glanced up at the three who had yet to join. "You guys want in?"

Time shook his head. "You kids have fun. I'm going to keep an eye on the situation."

Twilight also shook his head. "Wild needs something to do to let off some energy. I need to keep an eye on him." At that, Wild jumped up and scrambled up a nearby tree. He jumped down, then climbed up it again. Sky watched for a moment, then nodded and turned to the others gathered for the game.

Hyrule started dealing out cards. "Do you all know how to play?" The others nodded. "Good. That means we can start once I have everyone's cards passed out.

-

"What are they doing over there?" muttered Savage, eyeing the group of Lights gathered around each other.

"Cards, it looks like." Callous seemed disinterested, fiddling with a knife in his hands.

"Fools."

Tempest, meanwhile, was kicking the tree angrily. No one had done anything to satisfy his boredom. He hated them. And he hated being bored. He groaned, flipping over onto his stomach and burying his face into the ground. He continued to groan loudly.

"Would you stop that?" Conqueror snapped.

"But I'm boooooored!"

"If you're that bored why don't you go bother the Lights or something!"

Tempest made a face, but actually considered this. Looking over, he examined the heroes. He frowned when he saw the group gathered. They were actually doing something. He stuck his tongue out at Conqueror, then stood up and stomped over to the group.

-

"What are you all doing?"

Startled, the heroes looked up to see Wind's shadow standing behind them, arms crossed. "Uh... playing Go Fish?" Hyrule answered, too confused to bother being suspicious.

"Why do you care?" Legend questioned.

Tempest groaned in response. "I'm bored and nobody over there is actually doing anything."

The heroes exchanged looks. "Uh..."

"I bet I can beat you at Go Fish."

Everyone's heads whipped aroumd to face Wind, who was staring his shadow down. Tempest narrowed his eyes.

And sat down to join them.

"Deal me in," he said, glaring at Wind. Hyrule nervously glanced at Sky, who shrugged. So Tempest was dealt in. From there on out, the game got a good deal more heated.

"Gimme all your fives, alter-Ornament."

"Dammit," Legend grumbled, handing over two cards.

-

"Is he actually over there playing cards with them?" Eternal looked both incredulous and mildly infuriated.

Callous shrugged. "I suppose he really was bored, if he went seeking entertainment over there."

Conqueror rollled his eyes. "Brat. Hey Tempest! Having fun with the babies?" His yell echoed over that of Noble's and Warriors's. The small Dark turned around, glaring. "I hope they're going easy on you!"

"Why don't you shove your precious scarf down your throat, huh? I could kick your ass at this game!"

Conqueror laughed. "Like I would stoop so low. I won't get involved in some child's game."

Tempest's eyes narrowed. Then he smirked. "Wow, not even going to try? Scared?"

Conqueror froze. "What? No! Why would I be?"

"Because you're a coward."

He whirled around, eyes flashing. "Excuse me? I am not."

"The get over here and prove it, Barbie."

That was the last straw. Conqueror stormed over, and Four had to scramble out of the way to make room for the angry Dark. He sat down with a grunt. Eyes blazing, he held out a hand. "Deal me in."

"Here," said Four, handing him his cards. "I think I'm going to go join Wild with whatever he's doing." No one was really sure what Wild was doing, other than it involved a boomerang and an apple.

And thus began the most heated game of Go Fish in the history of just about ever.

-

After that, somehow or another the other Darks migrated to where the Lights were sitting. Legend, Acidic, Hyrule, Callous, Wind, Tempest and Conqueror were the ones playing cards at this point, though they had switched over to a game called Uno (which was even worse than Go Fish in this case). Shadow watched as Sky carved a figurine of a horse. Four was balancing three apples on his head while Wild took careful aim with a boomerang. Stygian watched the scene with disinterest, and Twilight looked on with concern and Savage in interested entertainment. Time and Eternal were leaning back against a rock, surveying the entire group along with the still arguing Noble and Warriors.

Time sighed as Warriors launched another rant at the same time Tempest yelled at someone for using a draw four. "I'm honestly not sure how much of this I can take."

Eternal was silent for a moment, then reached into his bag. He pulled out a tall bottle of vodka. "I think I'm too sober to put up with these idiots."

Time stared as he pulled out two shot glasses, filling both. This was a bad idea. He wasn't going to drink any of that. For one thing it was his shadow serving it, which meant there was a decent chance he was in danger. For another, it was completely irresponsible.

Then he heard Wind yell something about skips and the sound of something getting hit and Four's yelps, and decided that maybe a couple shots wouldn't hurt.

"Maybe we should have a drinking game." Eternal said, fingering his glads in his hand. "Something with those two over there."

Time considered this. "Take a shot every time Noble calls him a heathen."

"A specific word? That won't get us drunk nearly fast enough."

It was at that moment that Noble chose to screech "You absolute filthy heathen!"

Time smiled. "You sure about that?"

"Fair enough." Eternal downed his shot.

-

It was about three shots in when Twilight wandered over. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he glanced between Time and his shadow. "So...uh, what are you guys doing?"

Eternal glanced up at him. "Drinking game."

Savage, who had followed Twilight over out of boredom, perked up curiously. "What kind?"

"Of alcohol or game?"

"Both."

Eternal held up the bottle. "We're taking a shot of vodka every time Noble says the word 'heathen'."

Savage sat down near Eternal's feet. "Mind if I join in? I could use a drink."

The older Dark reached into his bag for more shot glasses, glancing up at Twilight. "You in as well?"

Twilight knew this wasn't a good idea. He opened his mouth to say no, but stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Wild readying some new hell-game up to play. He was too tired to deal with this. With a sigh, he nodded and held out his hand. Time handed him a shot glass, smiling sympathetically. He sat down next to Savage. "So... what's the game again?"

"Simple: each time Noble yells some variation of the word 'heathen', you take a shot."

"He can't say it that much," Savage said, raising an eyebrow as he settled back to watch the fight.

-

Wind stretched, then began wandering away from the group to stretch his legs. Tempest, who was similarly restless, followed. Those who were still playing cards were discussing what jungle rules to use in the next round.

Wind glanced over at Noble and Warriors, who were somehow still going. "How long until they get done do you think?"

"Only the gods know," Tempest said, shrugging. "Noble won't shut up for hours, so they could still be a while."

"You'd think by now they'd be- what in the name of Hylia is going on over there?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Wind gestured, and Tempest looked up to see where he was pointing to four certain people off to the side.

Twilight and Savage were leaning against each other's backs laughing loudly. Eternal was saying something over them, smirking. Time was reclining slightly, an easy smile playing across his lips.

"Is that what I think it is? In Eternal's hand?" Wind asked.

"Oh my goddesses they're drunk," Tempest murmured in wonderment.

"Holy shit."

"We have to go see this."

"Absolutely."

They quickly jogged over. Time was the first to notice their approach, and smiled at them. "Hello boys. Everything going alright?" Despite the fact that he had clearly been consuming a good amount of alcohol, he seemed to have retained most of his mental faculties.

"Fine," Wind said, doing his best to keep a straight face. "We just wanted to know what you guys were doing."

"Making poor life decisions!" Twilight grinned and raised his glass into the air. Savage laughed, raising his own as well. It was clear that they were both more than a little tipsy at this point.

Eternal chuckled, raising his own glass. "As it turns out, Noble days heathen quite a bit. Perfect drinking game."

Wind nodded. "Okay, cool. Have fun." He started walking away, but Tempest grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop.

"Hey, wait a minute. I'm super bored and this seems like fun. I say we grab my bottle of rum and join in."

Wind considered this, then shrugged, grinning. "Sure, why not? It's not like we have anything better to do."

Undet normal circumstances, Time and Twilight would most definitely not allow the fourteen year-olds to drink alcohol, especially Wind (despite his having encountered it plenty of times before on his pirate adventures). However, even Time was a little too tipsy to notice that issue. If Eternal noticed the problem, he didn't care.

-

"Oh my Farore, who let the fourteen year-olds have alcohol?"

All heads in the group of card players turned at Hyrule's exclamation. Their eyes were met with the sight of Wind and Tempest laughing with a bottle of what was almost certainly rum.

"Oh my goddesses," Sky murmured, hand hovering over his mouth in horror.

Legend took the scene in. The two weren't the only ones consuming alcohol; there was a party going on over there. He stood up. Hyrule glanced at him, surprised.

"Legend?"

"If they get to do it, so can I." There was no way he was missing out on this opportunity.

"Oh hell yeah." Acidic stood up as well. "Fuck the rules, let's take some shots."

"Wait you guys I really don't think that's a good idea-"

"Nonsense." Callous cut Hyrule off. "It's a fantastic idea. I'm on board with this. Way better than a card game."

"Shit dude, there's booze? Sign me the fuck up." Conqueror too abandoned his cards to stand up.

Sky frowned up at them. "I really don't think this is a good idea..."

However, his opinion went ignored in favor of joining the shots party.

-

Noble and Warriors finally stopped arguing sometime later. They both were gasping for air, vocal chords dry from their yelling match. After a moment, Warriors looked up and realized everyone had moved. He turned around, and his eyebrows shot up. "What the actual fuck happened?"

Noble looked up, glaring, but his eyes widened in surprise when he saw what Warriors was talking about. "I... what all manner of hells?"

They walked up to the group that had gathered, looking over the scene before them. It looked like several people were passed out, most of the others varying states of half-conscious.

"Is that... alcohol?" Noble looked disgusted.

"What the hell did we miss?"

Off to the side, Stygian rolled his eyes. "They all got bored waiting for you morons to finish bitching at each other." The others who were sober, Wild, Shadow, Four, Sky and Hyrule, nodded.

Warriors looked at him incredulously. "So they went and got drunk?"

"Pretty much," Hyrule said.

Noble made a face. "Absolute heathens."

Groans and drunken laughter met this statement. "Take a shot!" Legend cackled.

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Forget About It ~ Sweet Pea (Part 4)

A/n: I’m mega enjoying all the feedback on this. I’ve had this idea in my head FOREVER, like when I FIRST made this blog primarily Twilight and Riverdale, which is to say literally the beginning of time lol. I’m so glad that I finally got it written and that you guys like it :)

Warnings: It gets a little heated like twice. Violence. Bullying. Angst. Lots of angst. Depression. Fluff too :)

Word Count: 4252

MASTERLIST

'Cause I feel like a bad joke- walk the tight rope to hold on to you. I gotta know, was it real? Or a love scene, from a bad dream? I don't think, I can forget about it! Gotta know was it real?

Tall Boy didn't get kicked out of the Serpents, even when it got brought up several times. Serpents I wasn't at all close to brought it up. I stood up for him. I brushed it away or waved it down, taking the death glare from my friends every time I did so. Every time they asked I said it didn't matter. He hadn't broken Serpent law because at the time I wasn't official, and they could hate them all they wanted, but if I wouldn't stand against him, they had no case so they should just shut up about it. What they didn't know was that I didn't believe him. I didn't trust him enough to be out of the Serpents, worried he'd run to someone else like the Ghoulies (or maybe someone even worse) in revenge if they did kick him out. So he stayed.

My defending didn't stop Tall Boy talking endless shit about me. In fact, it seemed to fuel it. When I was established as a Serpent better, and people saw how good of a person he was and heard what Tall Boy had tried to do to me, everyone shut him up really fast. Soon he had no one to talk to. But people like Tall Boy didn't seem to be able to sit down and shut up and have any kind of sense or decency. When everyone stopped listening to poison about me, he started talking about Jughead. And he seemed to have a LOT to talk about. After I caught him talking I faced him. "Hey Tall Boy." He turned to face me as I stood from my chair. "I don't like you talking shit about my family."

He scoffed. "Family?" He paused upon seeing me a venomous glare. "Jughead's only half a Serpent. He'll always have his head in the North Side."

My eyebrows rose, a hand going to my hip. "He's proven his loyalty same as the rest of us. What's your complaint? That's he's too nice?" I leaned against the table, palms flat as I leaned forward. "I know you're opposed to anything good, but I think you of all people are really qualified to be able to talk any bad about another Serpent, don't you?" My eyes glinted, and his glare darkened. "One of the biggest reasons you're still here is because I stuck up for you. Don't make me regret it."

From what I'd heard, he'd stopped most of his talking after that. I didn't want him to stop. The pettier and more childish he looked the fewer people would believe him. But I didn't want him talking often, and I definitely didn't want him to get enough balls to actually allow himself to talk shit like that with me so close by. I knew he was doing it to bother me and that is something I just won't tolerate.

Things were going pretty good, though. Sweet Pea and I seemed to be toeing the line. Neither of us would close that last bit of distance. He wouldn't ask me out, and it made me unsure if he just didn't want to. I'd made myself clear, why wasn't he? Despite that though we still cuddled at night, holding each other close and waking up to each other's skin and smell and warmth. At school, everyone saw us as a couple, and I could see it in the way boys avoided looking at me too long, and girls lost interest in Sweet Pea a second after they looked over. We weren't on the market. We were spoken for, taken. It felt that way to me too. We didn't kiss after that first night, but we did flirt a lot more, and we got more touchy and present around each other. Closer and more aware, as if there was a tangible rope or a magnet, drawing not only our bodies together but our attention to each other as well.

As for the others, Fangs and I developed a quick and fun sibling bond. He gave me piggyback rides and messed up my hair and teased me on a daily. In return, I shouted loudly about how single and hot he was to passers-by and moved his things so he would look for them forever before he'd find them. We played little pranks on each other, harmless and brief but absolutely hilarious to us. Toni, likewise, became like my sister. She gossiped to me, getting me caught up on everything I'd missed in the Serpents and even on the South Side in general. Jughead came to me and apologized not soon after our fight but I'd long since forgiven him, and we were back on track, though I was living more with Sweet Pea than anything. No wI was stealing Sweet Pea's shirts instead of Jug's, leaving Betty to take up the practice for me. The small box of clothes I'd started to gather from my friends started when Jug told me to keep the two shirts of his that I absolutely adored, ones he didn't really wear anyway because they were worn and a little small on him. Next was Fangs' flannel he lent me one night when I had only a tank top on from when I'd first come to the South Side and it had been cold. I'd told him that I only had Jug's two shirts when he asked what the holy hell. Was doing out at night in just a tank top and he hadn't hesitated to hand over his flannel, which I thought was the actual cutest and I loved him for it. Toni found out from Fangs the next day that I was short some clothes and immediately took me to her house to see which of her clothes I fit, insisting that she'd wanted to get rid of some clothes anyway. So I got two new pairs of pants, three shirts, a pullover, a zip-up jacket, and two more flannels from her. Seeing everyone else's clothes on me drove Sweet Pea to give me three of his shirts right off the bat, jokingly teasing that those were mine but his closet was open for me just as much. I basically stole another of his jackets and he didn't even question it. My little box made me feel incredibly loved. It was all I had of my life in the South Side as I had never gone back to my house to get anything. The times I'd visited, my father had seen me turn slowly more and more Serpent, telling me that my room was still as I'd left it as if it was waiting for me.

That was the problem though. It was a room that I associated with a person I no longer was. The clothes and bed and things belonged to someone else. I felt like I was invading just going inside, but actually putting on anything from there? No thanks.

Plus my friend' clothes were REALLY comfortable.

In summary, life was good and every day that passed, I was more Serpent. I got my own Serpent jacket and the day came that I was to get my tattoo. I'd been so excited but now, seeing the needle made me want to throw up. It had been about two weeks since my dance and despite my growing confidence, I was outside the tattoo shot, bent over with my hands on my knees and trying not to throw up. Sweet Pea rubbed my back, trying to soothe me. "We can come another day," he assured gently, his tone giving away his disappointment despite his efforts.

Standing tall, I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. "I have a fear of needles," I admitted finally. "Every time we come it's going to be like this." I looked at my friends and saw the heartbroken looks on their faces. "I'm still getting the tattoo," I snapped and they tried to cover their expressions from before. I rolled my eyes, putting on my tough girl act. "Seriously I just need you guys to be patient with me."

I went to move toward the store but Sweet Peat caught my shoulder. I looked at him. "If you're not ready..."

My eyebrows rose, a smirk curling on my face. "I'm ready." There was something under my words. Something lighter and flirtier. It was good for me to divert my attention to something less terrifying. It was bad for Sweet Pea though, his hand falling from my ar as he blushed, swallowing. Toni and Fangs cleared their throats, trying not to laugh. "Are you?" He looked away and I swallowed, trying not to hide my disappointment. Every day my flirts got more serious and every day our back and forth lasted less and less time. I moved into the store, getting back in the chair. I'd run out before to get some air but as I sat back down, the tattoo artist came back to his chair.

"You good?" He asked. I nodded. He picked up the needle pen and I closed my eyes, tilting my head away and groaning as my eyes closed.

Fingers traced against my skin and I opened my eyes to see Sweet Pea in a chair he had pulled up next to me, his hand reaching for the one of mine that was limp against my stomach. "I'm right here, okay? Squeeze if t hurts, but keep talking to me. It'll be over before you know it." My eyes widened with adoration and his face softened as well, our eyes locked. I opened my mouth to say something but then the buzzing of the needle started and I tried not to imagine it any bigger than I knew it was. I was already shirtless, wanting my tattoo on my upper chest, just off from my shoulder and below my neck. "Hey, talk to me. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours."

I chuckled, the sound strangled and breathy as I tried to organize my panicked thoughts. "Breathe slower please, I need you to be more still," the tattoo artist said.

"What's your name?" I asked, looking over.

He smiled a little. "Dylan." When I raised my eyebrows he smiled a bit wider. "They used to call me Tracer. You wanna know why?" I nodded and he began talking, his casual tone and friendly smile combined with Sweet Pea's touch doing wonders to make me forget the needle as the buzzing of the needle became simply another noise and the pain was a distant thing in the back of my mind. Dylan was a retired Serpent and as he told me his half hilarious and half epic stories of all the trouble he'd gotten into in his youth, I felt Sweet Pea not holding back. His right thumb went up and down my arm as his left hand held my hand so that my arm was vertical. He kissed my knuckles every time I gasped or flinched or winced or showed any sign of growing or sudden anxiety or strain. When he did, I was instantly calm again.

When Dylan was done, everyone cheered. Fangs messed up my hair and Toni whooped and hollered, offering me my shirt as Dylan pat me on the back and gave me instructions on how to care properly for it. My tattoo was wrapped up and we left. Sweet Pea and I parted with Fangs and Toni, ending up in his trailer.

That's when I lost it. "Oh my GOD Sweets I got a tattoo!" He grinned, laughing so loud and genuinely that his lips parted and his head tilted back. "I'm a Serpent!"

My hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer in my excitement. We grew quiet as our eyes met and the lacking proximity between us was noticed. I leaned against the wall behind me and he followed my tilt, his hand raising to brace himself so he didn't crush me. His other hand rose to allow his thumb to caress my cheek, his eyes ripping away from mine to roam my face slowly and purposefully. He seemed to be memorizing me. "You've come so far." His voice was soft, his breath falling across my face and making me smile. He seemed to want to say something but was struggling with saying it. "You scare me," he finally choked out. I went to say something after he paused but he cut me off. "You're one of us, I know, but you're... I didn't count on ever meeting someone like you. I hated North Siders until I met you. Until you changed everything. You proved me wrong on everything I thought. You're absolutely amazing." He leaned closer. "You know they're right, you're not a South Sider." My throat shut and my body seized. "But that's okay," he added gently. "Because you still chose us, and you're a Serpent. That's all that matters. And, Y/n, you're the only North Sider I would trust with anything, but also I would trust you with my life. My- my heart."

"Sweets-" My eyes grew wide.

"I don't want you to think that being a North Sider is bad. You're still part of us. You're still a Serpent and that will never change. You're here, no matter where you came from. I need you to know that."

My eyes watered. "Okay." There was a pause. "Do you like me?"

Sweet Pea chuckled breathlessly, his lips quivering as he tried to form words. I frowned. "So much," he breathed. "I like you so much it scares me. Scares me like needles scare you. I've NEVER felt this way about anyone before. I'm really all in it for you and I'm just terrified I'm going to wake up one day and you'll be gone and it'll all just be a dream."

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered. We were nose to nose now. I hadn' realized he'd been leaning in. "If you're dreaming so am I, and I'm having the same dream."

His nose brushed mine and the moment was so tender and intimate that I inhaled sharply, my eyes fluttering as I tried to keep them open. "When I saw you after Tall Boy... I thought I lost you. The feeling that I felt- it still makes me sick. You started to fill my nightmares, every sleep bringing ugly images of you broken a little bit more. I was a little bit slower. It took us just a little longer to take Tall Boy's goons and get to you. You're pale and cold and I know you're not going to open your eyes again. You're not going to say my name or laugh and I- I've..." His words cut off as he took a shaky breath in and then let it out again. "I can't lose you, okay?"

"You won't lose me," I assured. "And I won't lose you. No matter where you are, I'll always be yours." I swallowed. "You don't scare me. Maybe it's because you make me feel so safe, though. I've ever felt so safe. Archie was always too nice and too good and too unaware. If he wasn't nearby I felt exposed and so I followed him everywhere like a lost puppy. But with you, I walk tall and look people in the eyes. I feel you by my side even when you're gone. You're everything I've ever wanted and more."

Sweet Pea smiled and then his eyes flickered to my lips. He didn’t pause leaning in to kiss me. The room exploded with heat as we collided, first soft but soon passionate. Our kisses grew quicker and then we were suddenly full on making out, his body pressing me against the wall. My hands rose to entangle in his hair and the hand of his that wasn't on my face dropped to my waist, fingers quickly slipping under my shirt and gripping my bare waist. His head tilted, our noses smooshing and we both inhaled deeply to make up for it. The hand on my waist trailed to my back and then down, finding a hold on the back of my thigh. He pulled my leg up his waist, tugging on me. His other hand dropped from my face to move against the back of my other thigh. I jumped up as he went to move me, helping him as he tried to hold me up. He pushed me harder against the wall, his body rolling into mine. I released a stuttering gasp, my fingers pulling on his hair and making him groan softly.

His lips left mine to move to my neck. Yellow and faded purple still decorated my neck from when Tall Boy tried to strangle me what seemed so long ago but really wasn’t. Just two weeks ago. It was almost gone but not quite and as his teeth ran over the skin, I winced, a hiss slipping through my lips. He jerked back, my arms going higher and the skin where my new tattoo was stretching. I gasped, wincing again. “Sorry,” Sweet Pea grunted. He slowly put me down.

“No,” I whined, pulling him into a kiss again. I kissed him hard and he shivered under my touch as one of my hands fell, going under his shirt and pressing against his stomach. His breath caught.

His hand caught my wrist and he leaned back, both of our eyes opening as we looked at each other. “Y/n,” he whispered. I groaned, letting my head fall against the wall. “I want you,” he assured me.

A sigh from me. “Then what?” I asked.

“You’re hurt,” he reminded me. “And, I mean are you really ready?”

Lifting my head, I looked at him. “Yes, Sweet Pea, I am. I want you. I want to be with you. And you keep stopping me.”

His face went red. “What if I’m not ready?”

Oh. I paused, relaxing and looking at him. “Sweets…” He went to ull away from me but I pulled him closer, kissing his cheek softly. “That doesn’t change anything between us. You’re allowed to not be ready. I’m sorry.” I tugged him gently, wanting him to stay with me but giving him the option of leaving if he really wanted. He leaned closer, his forehead pressing against mine. “I…” I swallowed. “I-” I wanted to say I loved him, but it didn’t feel right. Maybe I did, but this wasn’t the moment to say so. “I’m glad we met. And I’m glad I’m here. With you.”

He let out a few breaths that were almost laughter. “Yeah never thought I’d be glad a red-headed psychopath decided to lose his shit on the South Side, but here I am.” We both and he kissed me against, short and sweet and tender. There was a pause and then he whispered, “I want to be with you too. For real. I’m tired of being scared. I want you to be taken, spoken for, and I want people to know.”

My grin was brilliant as I pushed him away so we could see each other. “Sweet Pea are you asking me out?” I teased. He shrugged, smirking, jokingly playing it off like it was nothing. My grin widened and he couldn’t help but follow my lead, smiling just as brilliantly. “I would love to.”

He leaned down suddenly, scooping me up. I shrieked, clinging to him, and he laughed. He walked us to his room and dropped me on the bed. I grabbed a pillow, cursing his name as I chucked it at him, trying to seem mad through my laughter. He kicked off his shoes and crawled in next to me, pulling the blankets over us. I cuddled into him and he held me tightly, pulling me as close as he could. We fell asleep mid-conversation, nodding off while we talked quietly to each other.

-

Laughter rang out as Sweet Pea juped, bouncing me as I rode on his back. I’d begged and he had finally obliged after I’d given him a kiss. It was in that situation, happy and very much together, that we were found. “Y/n.” I looked over to see Archie and my eyebrow rose. We were at school, he should be too. Why was he here? Sweet Pea, hearing my name and sensing my sudden change in mood, looked over as well. When I attempted to get down, he let me, his hand on my back to lt e know he was there if I needed him. I hadn’t been anxious but if I had been, that alone would have made it disappear.

Moving to my brother, I placed a hand on my hip. “What’s up, Archie?” Archie reached out, his fingers tracing over my nearly gone bruises and my Serpent tattoo, which was out for everyone to see after it had its time to heal. He looked upset and I stepped back, out of his reach. His hand fell and he swallowed.

He met my eyes. “Come on, dad’s waiting for us in the car.” He turned to leave.

My eyes widened. “What?”

Archie turned back to face me, his expression was dark. “Dad heard about you almost getting killed out here and he’s done playing games.” I scoffed and Archie put his hands in the air, palms facing me. “If you don’t believe me, come ask Dad yourself. He’s waiting in the car just like I said. We came to bring you home.”

My shoulders straightened. “I am home.”

Archie glared at me. “Yeah wel,l then we’re bringing you back to the North Side, Serpent.” He spat the word, refusing to call me by my name. It had the same edge to it as when Archie pulled out a gun that first night I met Sweet Pea. The feeling of disowning and letting go. I wasn’t his Y/n anymore, just as he had long since stopped being my Archie. We were different now, twisted and distant. Impossibly far away from each other.

Just as I was about to argue with him, Sweet Pea pulled me behind him. “She isn’t going anywhere.”

Archie immediately grew angrier, stepping up to Sweet Pea even though he was shorter. Toni was on the scene, her small frame sliding between the two huge boys and pushing them apart. “What is going ON here?”

Fangs and Jughead were suddenly at my side. “I’m taking her home.” Four vices rose angrily and he backed up, putting his hands in the air again. “My dad’s orders! There’s nothing any of us can do. She’s fifteen, he’s her legal guardian.” He sighed rubbing his face. “Come on guys…”

Pushing through all my friends, I faced Archie. I turned my back to him, loing at the four people that meant absolutely everything to me. “I can visit okay?” They all looked at me, as hurt as I felt. “I don’t want to start a war ad ruin the little relationships I have left. I’ll just… I’ll find a way.”

Toni was the first to step up. She gave me a hug, telling me to keep my head down. Jughead was next, his hug accompanied by a good luck wish. Fangs’ hug was harder as he whispered that I’d always be welcome back. Sweet Pea was last. I felt Archie’s on me as he took my hands, leaning down so our foreheads touched. There was a pause and it was too quiet. Like there was a wall of glass between us. “I’m sorry,”  choked out. “I’m sorry-”

“Hey,” he soothed. “You’re spoken for, so am I. That won’t change. We’ll figure something out, okay?” I nodded. His hand left mine, fingers grazing my tattoo. I smiled. “No matter where you are,” he whispered. He kissed me and even though it was brief, Archie cleared his throat. “I’ll bring your bx if you want.”

Though a little laugh came out, I was crying. “Thank you.” I leaned away, locking eyes with him. “Wherever I am.” It was a promise, and now we’d both made it. I squeezed his hand one last time before I pulled away altogether, pushing past Archie roughly as I made my way to the car. My dad was waiting in the driver’s seat. As I approached our eyes locked and we both waved. He could tell how upset I was- not that it was hard to, since my eyes were red from crying. He motioned to the passenger seat and I took it, closing the door after me. Archie took the backseat without complaint. My dad started the car and it was quiet as I watched South Side High disappear.

Finall,y my father spoke. “You have a new tattoo. How did that happen?”

“Same way it always does. I did the initiation, I got the tattoo.”

He looked at me. “And the bruises?”

I was quiet for a long time. “Don’t blame the Serpents,” I whispered. “Toni, Fangs, Jughead, and Sweet Pea saved my life.”

“Your life wouldn’t have been in danger if you weren’t there,” Archie grumbled.

“Bullshit,” I snapped. My dad jerked in his seat. “The Black Hood is still running around killing people last I heard. The Red Circle didn’t get him?” That shut Archie up.

A few moments passed and my dad sighed. “Okay, look. There’s tension and danger and we’ve all been through a lot. But we’re a family.” I caught Archie’s eyes in the rearview mirror and we both held the same look in our eyes. We had the same parents and even some similar features. We came from the same bloodline and had lived in the same house nearly all our lives. But we weren’t family. I was a Serpent and he was Hiram and Veronica Lodge’s lap dog. We were on complete opposite playing fields. “And we’re going to figure this out,” our dad finished, knocking us out of our glare down. “My best friend was a Serpent. FP Jones himself.” Archie scoffed and I tried not to verbally attack him for the way the look on his face communicated a little too well on how he felt about FP. “Y/n, you’re allowed to be a Serpent, you already did what was necessary. If you wish, you can wear your jacket and even have friends over.” I looked over at him. He returned my look. “But if anything happens under my roof that you at all even think I couldn’t approve of, I will cut you off, do you understand me?” I slowly nodded my head, too relieved to care about what he was insinuating. Drugs? Sex? Fighting? It didn’t matter right now.

“But dad-” Archie began.

Dad shook his head. “I allow you the same freedoms Archie,” he finished. “I don’t want to hear anymore on the issue.” We were silent for the rest of the trip, but I knew what would happen. I’d be locked in a prison. Somewhere that wasn’t mine with people I didn’t really know anymore, who definitely didn’t know me. This was going to be complete Hell.

-

FTL: @chipster-21 @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto

Story tag list: @reblogserpent

[diziar]

Linkeduniverse: Six

This was based off of a prompt @skull-kid-of-the-forest and holy shit this actually turned out  a lot different and a lot better than what I was originally expecting. I’m sorry, but this is just pure angst and pain, and suffering for everyone, but especially Warriors and Wind. I have broken this AU , I’m sorry. TW: Death, Gore, Blood

I'm so sorry @linkeduniverse

Nine.

A black eye - A repulsive and unsightly thing that Warriors did not like being present on his face in the least. It wasn't that he was narcissistic and vain, but there was something about being marked on his face, somewhere so obvious and where everyone could see, that he didn't like. Scars, bruises, and burns left over from battle elsewhere on his body he could leave to heal as they were, evident by the scars along his arm; but his face was strictly off limits.

He couldn't exactly pin down which fight he had been struck in having quickly wiped the blood from his face in the aftermath, but it had only taken less than a day for the ghastly and angry bruise to fully show itself upon his face. He had decided against taking a potion when it had first happened knowing only too well, thanks to Legend constantly going on about it, that they were low on supplies, but after catching a glimpse of himself in the aforementioned man's shield he had changed his mind. They were nearing the next town and within the next day or so, they would be there. They would manage with what they had left.

“What are the Yiga Clan doing here?” Wild was the first to say something, the distaste and venom evident in his voice as they looked down at the makeshift camp from their vantage point on the hill. No one could give him an answer, they too were all confused. Some because they knew of what he actually spoke of but didn't know why either, and the others just because they did not know at all.

“Im not sure, but we're all ready behind for the day and going around would take too much time. Do you think we can handle them?” Time spoke up, redirecting his attention to Warriors and Legend separately.

“We're low on supplies. No fairies are around here and we've got no potions so we need to be cautious. We've still got a decent supply of arrows so we can use them to keep range and we can use whatever tools we have as well.” Came the reply of Legend from where he was crouched down on the ground, checking over his bags, pulling out the supplies he did have and lifting them up for inspection. Wild’s hand gripped tighter around the spear that he currently held.

“Okay, yes, we'll keep as much distance as we can, taking them out with arrows and any other ranged attacks we've got. Wild, you know the most about these guys so can you take the lead with your spear and with most of the arrows. Legend and 'Rule, you two help him out with that.” The three of them nodded as they started splitting the arrows between themselves and Wild gave them a quick run down. Warriors turned to the the others. “The rest of us will sneak around and use our swords to take them out, and remember to stay on guard at all times.”

Everyone seem content with the plan, it was simple enough. Of course there were ways something could always go wrong - like their planned element of surprise being ruined if they had already been spotted - but no one brought that up.

Time was of the essence. The sun would soon begin to set and fighting in the dark wasn't at all smart. All of them knew better than that.

They split up into their groups. Legend, Hyrule, and Wind going off ahead to find a place to hide and shoot down any footmen and scouts, the rest of them hanging back and then splitting up into pairs and snuck around. Time was with Four, Sky was with Twilight, and Warriors with Wind.

Things started off smoothly, the first few men went down in a few precise arrows hitting their targets spot on. Shields were up, swords were drawn and ready as the six of them made their way into the camp, picking off a few blademasters here and there.

Warriors was almost in disbelief, from what Wild had told him about the Yiga clan, he had been expecting more. There was too few and it was almost too easy. The camp big enough, so where were the others?

The sound of swords clashing pulled his attention back to where he was. Things could change so quickly in a battle, and always being aware of that is what made a good captain. Thinking on the spot and being able to command and change plans with a single shout. You couldn't allow yourself to be swept up in it all. Someone, somewhere, had engaged in a fight.

Warriors could hear footsteps running towards him, the only reason he didn't immediately turn around and draw his sword upon the approaching men was for the voice that he recognised calling out to him. The other three had joined them

“We ran out of arrows much sooner than we expected.” Legend stated, shouting a quick Wild at his right side and the turned back to Warriors raising an eyebrow. “What's going on?”

“This camp is big but there too few people here. I'm thinking that they must have saw us coming earlier…” Before he had even finished, Warriors could see the way Wind tensed and once again gripped his spear tightly. “I have a plan, we'll quickly regroup before we're ambushed.” The four standing around him all nodded in agreement before the five of them all sprinted off further in the came to find the others.

Once they found Time and the three others, it seemed they had already come to the same conclusion, and had unluckily encountered the ambush. At least Warriors now knew where the sound of swords ringing together had come from. Very quickly the rest of them joined in against the rest of Yiga Clan members and excluding the odd bump and scratch here and there, they were on their way to victory.

Nine against many wasn't a fair fight, but each and everyone of the pack of heroes had taken on worst before. They'd be okay.

Everything happened so fast; they were all managing on their own or aiding one another, the amount of foes was slowly diminishing in number. Everyone was still relatively okay all things considered and the sun hadn't begun to set just yet. Time was still on their side.

“Warriors!” Someone's voice rang out loud and clear in the midst of the battle. Bells and whistles immediately went off in the Captain's head as he quickly looked about, frantically looking for whoever had called out to him.

Legend.

He was crouched down, his sword placed down on the floor as he cradled something close to him. At first Warriors couldn't tell what, but then he saw blue.

It had been some time since he had seen Wind...

Time slowed down suddenly, his arms felt heavy, and his brain fizzled out. Any and all well thought of plans left his head as he stood there completely numb.

The others quickly finished off the last few enemies, and once again his name was called out several times he finally caught up with everything again. Legend was still crouched down on the floor, still holding someone close, and Warriors could see Wild running over to him.

That settled that then.

The other six of them quickly made their way towards to three of them. Legend held the youngest of their group in his arms and Wild had his hands now pressing down on his abdomen. Light blue fabric was soaking up so much blood and it was being stained and, judging from what he could see of Legend's hands as he lifted them up and tried to wipe them off, so was skin.

He did the first thing he could think off; pulled his scarf off and shoved it towards Legend so that could be used to to help apply pressure.

Wind had gotten hurt. Badly. And the words that had been said less than an hour earlier repeated in his head.

“We've got no potions so we need to be cautious.”

He had used the last potion that morning to get rid of his back eye and now… he didn't know this was going to happen.

If he had, he wouldn't have taken it.

He had seen people been hurt before, he had seen people die before. Both those the brave, the foolish, and otherwise. Those who were part of his squad and trusted him, and those who didn't.

He thought he was used to it. All the gore, the blood, the last shaky breaths or pleads for it to end. Matted hair and disposed weapons.

He was not.

“What happened?” It was Four, and his voice was barely above a whisper. Stunned silence and absolute shock and horror is something all of them shared.

Not too far away Warriors noticed a Yiga sword, the blade covered in blood. He hadn't gotten a good look at Wind's wound but he could put two and two together.

As could everyone else.

Wind was a skilled warrior; he had told them all multiple stories about his adventures and the foes he had taken down. How he had sailed across the entire world alone with just his sailboat. How close he had been a few times to failing but then getting help and had finally managed to defeat Ganondorf.

No one here had helped him until it was too late.

“We're still a day away from the closest town…” Sky muttered, his voice shaky and muffled from the way he covered his face with his hand. It was the one thing none of them wanted to hear, but it was true.

“Me and Wild can run on ahead.. O-or maybe Twilight could take him.” Hyrule stepped forward, his eyes obviously struggling to look away from the younger boy, but finally he managed to look to all of them.

Warriors could hardly see him, he kept himself stood behind Legend so that he didn't have to. It was a dishonor to Wind, but he couldn't do it. From what he could see, Wind looked so small. Smaller than he usually did. He really was just a child...

His head had obviously rolled back from the way a hand was underneath and supporting it up. Crazy blond hair was sweaty and brushed back, allowing the two who were assisting him to keep an eye on his face. Warriors was glad he couldn't see his face - He didn't have to see his usually cheerful face twisted in pain. He didn't have to see the fear in his dark green eyes, or they way they drooped, or even the way his lips trembled.

Everyone could hear the very faint shallow breaths: laboured, shaky, pained. All the things that Wind should never be experiencing, at least not like this.

Wind had spoke of his grandma before, and he had hoped that one day he would be able to introduce the rest of them to her and his younger sister. Now all they could do if they ever did meet the two of them is tell them ‘Sorry…’

He had even mentioned once, just to Warriors, that she has nearly died and how he had to bring her a fairy.

If only they had one at the moment.

“Legend…” Warriors caught the attention of his red clad friend, tapping him also on the shoulder as the other lifted his head and looked up at him. “Can.. Can I?” He head nodded down towards Wind, his voice failing him as he tried to say what he wanted. Legend just nodded

Carefully, Warriors knelt himself down on the ground next to Legend, the others still all just watching in complete silence. His hand traded places with Wild's as he placed it on top of his scarf that was still soaking up blood and slowly Wind was moved into his lap.

“It's no use.” Warriors couldn't help but choke out a gasp as Time finally said something, his voice low and devoid of any emotion. In a flurry of movement, Wild had stood back up and was shooting daggers at the Old man, his breathing rapid as his hand clenched at his side's

“They did this! I can't let them get away with this!” Wild spat out, completely enraged as he quickly picked up his spear and then shot Time another look. If looks could kill, it wouldn't just be Wind who was lying on the ground dying right now…

“Wild-” Twilight tried to call and reach out, but it was too late, Wild had already started storming off. Hurried glances were exchanged between all of them, Twi's expression dropped along with his arm back to his side, his feelings all over his sleeve as his protégé was leaving them behind.

Eight.

“Sorry…” Was all he said as he quickly chased after him. He couldn't leave Wild to go off like that. It was getting dark, and it was dangerous to go alone.

Seven.

Warriors head dropped back down, his eyes falling onto Winds face as the boy he saw as his brother looked desperately back at him. A small hand moved and rested itself upon Warriors. The touch was cold, and the warm blush had faded from his skin.

"Cap-..." A blue sleeved hand slipped, falling back down into the dirt and blood underneath him.

The sun was setting.

The sky colours shifting from light blue into oranges and deep reds just like his coat. The breeze picking up slightly, chilling them all as the adrenaline wore off and reality settled in, and it even softly brushed through those damp light blond locks of the boy still in Warrior's arms. They all stayed silent, unmoving for an amount of time that none of them could be sure of.

Just like his eye had been earlier that day, shades of blue and purple settled over them.

The night was settling over them, the darkness thick and heavy as it snuffed out the last remaining hints of the day; just like the light that was leaving Wind's eyes.

Six.

[ramblingshit]

Fright Night - 2011 - 2/5

we start , very, very high. its ominous to begin, the dreamworks opening dark and spooky and slow. scrawled font glides across dark stormy clouds and we're over a small square, isolated suburb. a house is on sale. that's the Charmed font.

oh my god what is that david tennant what the fuck was not expecting that.okay so this is a modern Fright Night.  and david tennant sis peter vincent. okay what a jump scare just happened the dog is scared, and this girl is dead and he's covered in blood and holy shit its the senator. wow the bed was bloody where his dad was scrambling for the gun hidden beneath the mattress that the boy finds. oh his dads body is sliding away and what the fuck is that im scared what the hell holy shit. ohh cool title card. nice symmetry in the birds eye. just a happy, normal small neighbourhood, everyone is diverse and happy and the kids are playing outside. holy shit its that dead guy poor ol mate.oh its hereditary mum.  they got a chill equal relationship just chatting like friends more than parent adn child. and the mum's intelligent and assertive and smart and a real estate agent. this is very very different from the original fright night. is it really the same movie? is it oh its the girl from 28 weeks later nice she's hot and eyy pumped up kicks is playing damn. I'm pretty sure they're both like 25 and playing as  oh holy shit its like zac efron's brother. trumping all over stereotype. what the hell its the weird super bad creepy guy comedian dude 'Brewster' it's the weird cackling kid. they've got relationship issues they're both geeks but brewster got hot and with the hot girl and rose through the 'social ranks' and they had to stop being friends. weird kid is threatening to show all his new friends embarrassing stuff from the past. oh my fucking god oh my god colin farrell. holy shit. oh my god. and damn she is Amy I'm forgetting everything cause its so different. he's charming and fucking hot and buff with like a paled face.being all charming and neighbourly. wife beater and silver necklace and damn the way he bit that apple. what are they doing here crawling through the doggy door who's adam. outta nowhere weird kid tells him jerry's a vampire, like a 'by the way' situation where are they going why does he have a cross and stake? they just added a stock door opening noise. they're telling the realisations of hm being a vampire without actually showing any of it and the weirdo kid is the one interested and telling brewster that jerrys a vampire like what first he's not even met him he hasn't been involved or around him at all and now he's adamantly trying to argue that he is a vampire?? in the original brewster was obsessed and found out quick to the start all by himself and half the trouble was trying to convince everyone else too. now one of his friends is trying to convince him?? what?? and they're mentioning Twilight and weird kid is saying how he's not broody or whatever like show us what his personality is like why are you saying this it's like this long ass dialogue chunk in the middle of a completely irrelevant situation, all about Jerry. fucking weird man what the fuck. we've seen the guy once. he's got evidence? why are they in this house? why is this happening? this was the Charley show - his journey from fear to sorting Jerry out and his tension with the guy the weird kid was basically comedic effect now he's premature exposition guy? and he's the one who thought of peter vincent cause it showed him watching him all the time but now its the weird kid convincing him and now they're having relationship problems and brewster fkn pushed him damn son use your words wow he's a fucking asshole like die dude the fuck. oh damn what the fuck the bully just grabbed him off his bike fr riding down his street like its his turf what the hell there's like four streets in this suburb and now they're fighting who wrote this why bother calling it fright night its a whole nother (fkn messy shit) story he's literally chasing him over the fence like he wants to kill him damn this isn't bullying  fuck. what is this movie? oooooh jerry is hottttt i love me a murdererous manly man. weird kid is in big trouble. oh my god. oh my god did they get him to play fake grindelwald because of his role in this. damn he's turning weird kid and the cross falls dramatically from his hand. ohh he's a fuckin dick to his friend and now he's feelin all guilty and worried and reminiscing about the time he wasn't an asshole to his friend. wow we're not even half an hour in and half the original movie is gone and replaced by whatever high school drama movie this is.he walked into weird kid's room and didn't turn the light on? yeah alright. what the fuck. why is peter vincent fkn that 'sexy' emo magician man who was popular -Chris Angel Mindfreak. he found a laptop with evidence that jerry's a vampire videos on it. and here's Jerry and what's happening ahaha he's not gonna invite him in and its physically uncomfortable standing at the door he's literally stuck at the door and it's really really obvious.  damn that was cool though passing the beer through the doorway and the communication in their eyes and now he's perving on his mum is this acting intentional? like he looked really unsure what to do with himself was that in character or?? he's looking around all paranoid he's perving on all the girls he's threatening him really obviously i can't tell if i like it more than the smooth suave chilling conversation that was driving charley mad at the start of the other one. jerry telling him to 'manage' the women in his life cause its his job to keep them safe. now they're doing the distracted disinterested in Amy play and she's the one coming onto him strong  and what are we gonna see this. this is literally worse acting than the screaming kid in the first one it's like halfhearted. now the movie's settling in for like a spookier, much darker version of the  nah nevermind its like a padded retelling. there's no billy in this one, just Jerry - who's gonna cover him during the day? original was a squad effort movie - bunch of kids and an old man going up against a vampire. not anymore its just this obviously mid 20s guy sneaking around in a dark house to quiet, eerie music. wait he's in Jerry's house? oh cause Jerry drove off. ooh Jerry's got awesome creepy office with spooky drawings on the walls why is this place so dark goddamn turn on the lightswitch. he's got costumes for hunting damn that's cool. and here he returns uh oh run charley run. try escape the vampire now that you're in his lair. a secret door to like a jail block in the wall? what he's letting himself be close in? what is he doing how did Jerry whip this up?jumpscare lol lame it's Doris. you telling me he's gonna lockpick the lock okay he's never done it before but okay. god he's hot. the swooning blond in the arms of a vampire. it's like hella horrific oh my god she just shushed Charley where he hid in the other room. drinks from her all orgasmic and tosses her back in the room. damn he looks good with a bloodstained mouth lickinn his lips and shit. good luck picking with a bobby pin you're hilarious holy fuck she's tiny, like a limp ragdoll. ew why is he watching skanky girls on TV. tryna tell me he's watching the TV so loud that he can't hear they panting and crying. yeah he can he's outta the chair - there's no reflection and he's like crying damn this is tense. such a nice house. strutting around, drinking beer, vaguely amused at everything. he just caught an apple. it's like he knows something amusing no one else does.  but does he actually kno-- oh my god yeah he does that's awesome. oh holy fucking shit holy shit holy fucking shit she was a vampire she fucking exploded in the sunlight. his jumper s covered in her ash that's messed, Jerry stood inside listening and laughing to himself as he bit into the apple. now he's out here being the one looking up peter vincent - that entire start was completely pointless they should've cut out all of the weird kid stuff. now he's snubbing his girlfriend too this is how it should have all begun here comes david tennant. what the hell he's pulling a secret swipe identity thing to try get in to see vincent and vincent is a gross slimeball of a david tennant why are all these men slimy he's pretending to be a reporter she's walking around in a bra, vincent is an expert on vampires and the lot - not just using what he learned from doing his show and now she's using 'little girl' as a derogatory term for vincent. okay not the most attractive bod and i hate tattoos tbh at this point its true. god this whole thing is so edgy and wow okay here we go his hair is so much betterokay damn holy shit. it was the hair the hair was fucking me up okay holy damn all his facial hair is fake. and thank god his eyebrow piercing - wait nevermind all that 'expert' stuff was bulll? or is he mucking around? okay no its bull he isn't an expert. i can't believe how much hair affects someone. oh and his tattoo are right as well. damn he sounds schizo and vincent is fkn cold and that is some bad cgi and trying to be so dramatic its just a filter over the shot. oh and here's  zac efrons brother and eternal grunge guy.  ohh he's got creepy long nails and oh damn eating them and there's the blood oh fuck why is that hot im so disturbed. he's shaving stakes and its mum who confronts him and he's awwkard about it and now they've referenced 'Dark Shadows' as well as Twilight. these highschoolers are so serious and mature tryna talk to each other and here's Jerry at the door.this is a game to him but she's sticking up for her son and Jerry thinks its awesome or is it just oh damn he's coming back with a shovel and a power saw?? what's he doing??? where's he going oh my god what's he doing the girls are slowly realising that he might be right what is he digging up.flinging huge chunks of earth around. oh uh oh oh FUCK  THAT:s  GAS HOLY SHIT are you serious Jerry no holy daaaaaaamn he's blowing up their house I love it ahahaha 'dont need an invitation if there's no house' that is hilarious oh my god as if they're going to get out with what really he's gonna  oh wait he''s gonna take the dirt bike what the fuck he just threw the bike at them what is happening is this Michael bay. and now he's ramming them fuck he really wants them dead damn oh ahahah they have a tank of a car driving getting hit by a bike, smashing through a vampire and his big ass car. is he-- he's under the car that's amazing yeah okay like they survived that too oh he just lifted up the car oh what the fuck he looks like that shark guy from batman oh no why does he look like that who made him look like a shark he's eating that guy blood squirting, he's very animalistic like twitchy and shit too  black eyes eats a guy, morphs into something evil blood stained mouth cars all fucked up and he turns around 'hey' he greeted jovially, the girls run away - the mum just leaves her son to face off a vampire? yeah, okay. - and he calls 'catch you later!' damn some of this is gold and other bits are trash but so far they're evening each other out. he's oh damn he grabbed the cross and it lit on fire and he's got charley and was gonna stake him but mum popped up and shanked him through the shoulder with one of her real estate signs that's so lame, but he's screeching and flinging himself around making growling noises and now mum's fainted and hit her head and jerry's twitching out with a oh okay he hit him with his car again. jerry's all kinds of fucked but he heals up fine soon enough. vincent isn't charming; there's too much sex and money and cynical and assholey and its grotesque compared to the teenageriness of the original. and now mum's out for the count at the hospital lol  what's happening. he's shitting on the idea to call the police that's hilarious he wouldn't stop calling them in the first. i dunno i keep comparing them because these are the bits i 100% liked better in the other one. now he's talking about weird kid who disappeared ages ago. he's a loser - she likes him cause he's different; she's the popular girl who didn't want an ass bully to date. vincent's a drunk on top of everything. but he does know his stuff about vampires. there's different species different breeds - Jerry's a tribal snacker who keeps his victims alive for days and oh damn its weird kid he's a black eyed vampire and he's mad Jerry got him Vincents in his panic room the bra girl is dead weird kids arms off and now Jerry's coming and weird kid's twitching out and he looks like a wolf shark and they're being vulgar again he's hunting them down this is a serious relationship drama issue. if they're strong enough to like bend metal how did grabbing him hard around the neck not immediately crush it. they're fighting - like what; charley just took a deep clawing across the chest they're blocking and slashing and every ones smashing stuff and he just got weird kid at the neck and uh oh she's in trouble but she's got a gun but he's barely flinching oh what. how did she know that was holy water the cup was up too high for her to see there was even any water in it. dude they're strong when its plot convenient - how do these guys know how to fight with weapons he's just so chill with that slash across the chest. ahaha what the fuck she's like urging him to kill him aha he stabbed him all drama and she's in survivor mode like fuck outta the way everyone oh good he's pretty again. i'm disappointed no jerry/amy stuff though tbh she's spicy, he thinks this is a great time. he's just hunting them and its nightclub time are they gonna do the jerry amy thing no he grabbed her by the throat oh damn oh okay no that was pretty hot he's got a slash on his chest and the bouncers just grabbing it and he doesn't react fuck sake 0 that was pretty cool if not exactly what i wanted - he properly vampired her: blood on his lips he kissed her and it drugged her enough to take her neck in the middle of the club. and now a vampire killed vincent's parents and that's why he's a drunk but how'd he become a magician what's that got to do with anything. damn highschooler dropping moral truthbombs that immediately make adults change their mind immediately and wanna help him. how does that car still drive. this is so gay like he is overreacting he's dressed to go to war - i forgot he burned their house down he's got a fucking crossbow and he's dressed in like military shit and he's swinging the crossbow around like he's in the military, did they tell him to take this serious or like he shoulda been an awkward stumbling kid oh what the damn they'res a secret like basement damn he just broke a hip how is all of this under his house didn't just move in???he switched on the first light in the whole movie and it barely lit anything up so lame. so extra oh damn that tiddy damn nice just dodged an arrow oh fo real really is he the vampire who killed vincent's parents are you serious that's so lame. and now Amy's  what the fuck why is there like an entire institution beneath this house what is this. oh its the tribe?? they live in the dirt whoop her eyes are black but vincent's got a dramatic black leather jacket and a stake gun that just fucked up and he's just gonna stake her straight up they barely gave her time for her scary wide face he just stabbed her and ran and now she's eating her own blood and whoop vincent's being eatenoh really how did he know there was sunlight up there aren't we in the base meant isn't this place made of cement. damn he's hot with his shirt open. he just hissed at the beam of sunlight. even his fingernail burns oh that's cool he's in teh shadow and charleys in the sun beams as he taunts him about Amy and vincent's turning ahaha  and they're gonna wait til the sun goes down and in the meantime he's gonna like fuck amy in front of charley ahaha nice drinking bloods like sex. oh yeah okay what he's gonna what he's expecting to go up in flames what the fuck he'd oh no okay what the fuck as if. as the fuck if. first of all, charley is human and a crazed vampire is not and are you joking me that charley could survive being thrown around plus he's fucking on fire that should have destroyed him by now fucking burned to a crisp oh im so disappointed and okay yea being a vampire was just dark spirits? and now everyones free to die of their wounds aha jesus. his clothes would have seared into his skin, his goggles would have melted but no, completely unscathed. so lame. oh that was such a slow awkward dialogue. weird like one liner jokes throughout are we in vegas? oh nice they're fucking i really don't care i don't wanna see these 25 year olds why do we care what happens now Jerry's dead. jesus that was bad. please im so upset. oh well sometimes 1980s camp horror is better than cheap rushed or at least badly edited modern ones. disappointing man.

[kog0ruhn]

Lair Review: Desmodium (302820)

This has been a long time coming because I’ve been having the hardest time concentrating, and for that, I am sorry. I have literally had the thumbnails for my choices sitting here in my review folder for twenty-one days.

That said, the fact that I’ve taken so long is all the more reason for me to forego the Top 5 request you sent and bulk that shit up to a top ten because goddamn son, your lair is smokin’. You have some of the most vivid, unique, varied dragons I’ve seen with some of the cleverest apparel combos, beautiful color combinations, and in-your-face personalities that I have ever seen. Diversity is the spice of life and your lair needs a menu warning because it’s up there with the Carolina Reaper.

Also, I’m doing this for free because I am an asshole.

Lyani was the first dragon in my lair that I selected, a nice and sleek astronomer with a mystical, ethereal vibe that just draws her to my attention. I’m typically not a huge fan of dragons who are too “flat” in terms of color, but in the case of Lyani, it pays off in spades. How her skin and her apparel match up is absolutely divine, and the lighter blues of her grasp match up majestically with her Lightning eyes. Everything about her is soft and “deep” looking, bringing to mind staring into deep water or blank twilight skies, and she’s simultaneously unnerving and relaxing to look at. I always feel like picking a dragon off the first row is cheating, but this lady is right in the spotlight where she needs to be.

Ripley is unique in a lot of ways, with touches here and there that immediately make him an attention grabber. Firstly, he rocks those flowing silks and that gown way better than I ever thought such a bulky dragon would, with a soft and elegant touch that just screams sophistication. His accent, being more bluish-green, helps tie together his bright Wind eyes with his more watery/shadowy colors, and I love his smoke gene (which I never thought I’d say about a dragon) and how it seems to glow and build from said accent. All and all, he’s probably my favorite, fullstop, and I hope he keeps being amazing in your lair.

Mesarthim is a walking dragon kaleidoscope, with beautiful natural colors and flowing genes that are complemented by his apparel and accent. Typically, I’d find such a dragon cluttered, but for whatever reason everything just seems so appropriately chaotic. The color coordination is on point, and the use of the more primastic touches help tie in colors on his apparel that just otherwise wouldn’t give, and help the purple of his shardhide and sage apparel clash less obviously with his darker blues. The layering is actually impressively done, and I like how you’ve managed to make it look like the shadhide and crystalhide are one and the same, extensions of his being that taper off and meld into his accent.

I was hesitant to pick Valeraine because she’s in your Hibernal Den, in a section marked “Guest Rooms.” I figured that meant that you were holding her for somebody or she was a traveling dragon (addendum after this was originally written: She’s still there 20 days later so I guess she’s a permanent fixture??), but I can’t not pick something so beautiful. First of all, you have managed to use ringlets in a way that isn’t obnoxious, and have utilized her apparel to cover up more problematic areas in a way that made me bewildered about how she was using Shining Peacock Feathers as an accent. Her colors are gorgeous, he genes are beautiful, her apparel is elegant, and she has a beautiful but cutting appearance that makes me think femme fatale. 

SommerRegen is another Hibernal Den dragon I couldn’t pass up, with beautiful colors, genes, and a lot of personality in a tiny package. I’m usually no fan of just cramming festival apparel on a dragon and then calling it a day, but I have not seen it look so cohesive on a dragon before. This is helped entirely by the stained glass appearance of her Bee gene and her beautiful secondary and tertiary gene, with a nice, dark primary to help colors pop. I’m also a huge fan of the little corn snake peeking out just above her scarf, and the layering of her mask and lantern so that there seems to be more wisps that usual emanating from the lantern itself. It’s a nice way to detract from the normally weird way the smoke from the mask typically curls around the wing.

Azar is fuckin’ gorgeous. This is despite his troublesome tertiary color which, honestly, I’m surprised you made such good use of. He now has a bit of the same color scheme as the haunted flame candles, only subtle enough to not detract from the beautiful, night sky aesthetic that he has going on. The wisps of black from his hand/feet apparel add an air of etherealism to him, and I cannot think of a more fitting dragon to wear that accent than this beautiful boy with his perfectly matching midnight starmap.

I... don’t remember Elif from my first sweep through your lair, but when I was going through for five extra to add, she immediately stood out. That filigree with that accent and those cyan NoN apparel bits? That is absolutely spot-on. I love how her tert flows into the blues of her accent and, with the aquatic aesthetic she has going, the smoke from her feet just seems to be whorls of water floating up from beneath her toes. The gold chains of her jewelry add enough warmth to detract away from the reds in her filigree, and all in all she’s a beauty to look at.

Iseya is a simple dragon, but I got an appreciation for simple as much as I have an appreciation for snappers. First of all, I love the fact she’s simple; the single mantle keeps her from looking bare while, at the same time, not covering up her tertiary or her accent. The accent itself is adorable and matches surprisingly well with her noxtide, and gives her firefly gene a bit of life that firefly usually lacks. Essentially, it looks like those beautiful little bugs are interacting with the succulents themselves and that is just straight-up adorable. She’s just such a happy, cute, and calming dragon to look at, and well-thought-out to boot.

Rashad is a boy that I wanted to pick for my original Top 5, but he didn’t make the cut against SommerRegen. Now that I have the chance to include him, holy smokes is this guy a beaut. Everything about him is just so perfectly laid out, from the coordination of his colors to helping integrate his accent into the rest of him with the use of the amber NotN apparel, which shares the same vividness. The Crystalcourt apparel looks like it was made with this dragon in mind, and that ghost gene? Everyone loves a good ghost gene, and the blueish tint (rather than the more neutral colors folks lean toward) was a wonderful choice for him (I say like you picked the color, but you know what I mean... I hope).

And last and not least is Hades who I, well, I’m honestly surprised I like as much as I do. I’m usually not a fan of busy dragons and this guy keeps your eyes going constantly from nose to tail tip. I think what won me over is just how freakin’ fantastic that accent looks on him, how the colors and the patterning add to his lionfish gene and natural patterning/coloration instead of detracting. There’s no need to cover up problem areas because it all creates this wonderful pattern that brings to mind polished, striated stone. And considering his name is Hades, that’s very suiting. Ghostly colors like a king of the underworld should have, and a nice, mineral look to coincide with the fact the mythological figure governed precious stones and mineral wealth as well. He’s a great dragon!

[auroraphilealis]

any book recs?

Heck yes I do!

Simon VS. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli: Even if you saw the movie already, the book is like a different storyline. They’re super close but very different and I literally can’t decide which I prefer

It by Stephen King: I’m not actually the biggest horror fan of all time but after seeing the movie, I fell in love with this idea. I’m only about half way through the novel version, but there is something insane about the way Stephen King writes. He truly understands human’s on a level not many people do, or at least understands them enough to REALLY draw out the true horror of the world. I don’t know man, it’s a good fucking book. 

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: Actually though, i re-read this after having read it 6 years ago, and holy shit this is actually amazing. I love this novel. Frankenstein is… a fascinating story. 

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak: Seriously fucking amazing. It’s about a little girl growing up in Nazi Germany only it’s told from Death’s point of view, and I know what you’re thinking - how the fuck? But holy shit it is a fucking crazy good story, and the character of Death had me hooked on the first page

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: One of my all time favorite books. It’s kind-of sort-of the story of Hamlet, but with a totally different modern revamp. The main character is mute, was born mute, and his closet relationship is with his dog. His mom marries his uncle after his father dies in a fire, and.. well. It’s just incredibly beautiful and amzing.

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind: Look. This is the longest book series I have ever read. I used to spend every second of every day reading these books. But if you’re a fantasy fan, and huge word counts don’t scare you, then good LORD is this the series for you. I think back on this series so fucking often, and I’ve read certain books in it like, six times each. Currently, my mom has my copies or I would be READING IT AGAIN since this series hass been on my mind alot again. Again, it’s super long. I think currently we’re on book like… 27. I googled it. holy shit it’s grown since I last picked it up. The best part about this series is 1. You can technically stop at any point because each book has a relatively good ending that will keep you satisfied (except book 1 and 2, you really have to finish 3 while youre at it). 2. They reflect the modern world so well sometimes you’re just godamn wow. Seriously. If you love fantasy, please give it a try. It’s worth it. 

The Host by Stephanie Meyer: Look, I know what you’re all going to say. Twilight was terrible, why would we read this? Listen, LISTEN I actually love The Host. It was really well done, and it definitely Stephanie Meyer’s better novel. The movie adaptation sucked ass but I actually DO still read this book over and over again. It’s a sci-fi novel about alien’s coming to Earth and taking over host bodies. They do this on lots of planets, and Earth is their newest requistion. It’s also the only planet to fight back well enough that the aliens actually think they might win. It’s not as weird as it sounds. It’s a love story, and it goes far more in depth with the meaning of life and stuff like that then Twilight could dream of, so give it a try. 

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood: Actually amazing. I read it for class like… idek, 5 years ago maybe? When I heard it was getting it’s own show I was like !!!! but I haven’t actually watched the show version yet, so I have no idea how it compares to the novel. The novel is fucking amazing though. Legit made me cry. However, if you have a sexual trauma or trigger, this might be a difficult read in some select parts :/ Still fucking worth it times ten. I literally bought the book when my class was over, it was so good (the teacher actually, actually handed out copies, how insane is that? She was amzing)

Beloved by Toni Morrison: FUCK SO GOOD. I’ve read it twice, both times around school, and got to write papers on it twice as well. This is… this is one hell of a book. Both times I read it, I got so much more of it than the first time. THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK. It’s about a former slave whose haunted by the baby daughter she killed to prevent her children from ending up slaves as well. This was just before slavery was abolished, as well, and while her baby daughter died, her other three kids lived. However, now her home is haunted, and the baby ACTUALLY comes back. It’s crazy and amazing and one of my favorite novels of all time. I can’t pick favorites guys, okay, but I love this one so fucking much. 

Pellinor Series by Alison Croggon: Listen. Listen. I read this book when I was in high school immediately after I hurt my back so bad I was stuck in bed for a week, and literally continue to have issues with too this day. I CANNOT TELL YOU what the fucking plot was, and apparently there are 2 more books in the series that I didn’t know about, BUT I LOVED AND ADORED THIS BOOK OKAY IT WAS A WONDERFUL FANTASY NOVEL AND IT HAS A FEMALE LEAD ALRIGHT ITS GREAT JUST TAKE MY WORD FOR IT AND READ IT

Uglies Series by Scott Westserfeld: I remember finally getting my hands on this series and reading it in like, two days. Idk. It was great. If you can’t tell, I love fantasy and sci-fi and horror, which all mesh together horribly and you can never tell them apart. This isn’t horror though, just the other two. It’s about a world where when people turn a certain age, they get to become a “pretty’ which means to have surgery done to make them look perfect - only the reason for this is to dumb down society. Read it. I love it. 

Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead: I love vampire novels. If you couldn’t tell, this is a vampire novel. It’s one of my preferred series though, I think Mead did an amazing job crafting the world she crafts. Vampires aren’t under wraps, nor are they inherently evil, but they do work in a really weird system where you have the Special vampires who the other vampires protect, and then like the bodyguard vampires. I can’t fully remember, it’s been a long time. But regardless, I remember this being one of the few novel series that made me cry, and I still love it to this day. 

Harry Potter by JK Rowling: I thought this was such a give in that I didn’t put it on the list until now but actually like. Super good. I grew up in this series and sometimes I talk about it and remember I’m 24 cause some people I know have never read it and IT WAS LITERALLY MY CHILDHOOD. Still think it’s worth it, even as I poke more and more holes in the story, because the older you get, the more you start to recognize problematic things. Clearly, Harry Potter was meant for children, not an adult who wants to critize everything. GOOD READ THOUGH

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell: I grew up the girl writing fanfiction hid away in the back of the class because I didn’t want anyone to know. I look up to the people older than me at the time who developed and crafted the world we live in now, where Fanfiction is almost acceptable. Reading this novel... brought me right back to the Harry Potter days when the fandom was sitll new, underground, and ao3 didn’t exist. Honestly... it’s a really good book, and really hits home for people like me who write fanfiction and want nothing more than to write novels one day. 

Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin: But actually the books are really good. I fucking adore the show and that’s what got me into the books, but the books are HELLA good. Weirdly, Daenery’s Targaryen is not the most well written character ever, and I blame it on Martin being a guy, becasue sometimes I actually hate her in the novels (seriously, he makes her sound... like a child, which I guess she kind of is) BUT one of my favorite things in the novel is that her husband Khal Drogo does not sexually assault her in the novels. He’s super sweet and good to her, and honestly just. Yep. Yeah. Good series.

What Happened to Lani Garver by Carol Plum Ucci: The most heartwrenching book of all time. I can’t tell you how long I cried over this book. I’m literally getting tearful as I think about it. It is... fucking BEAUTIFUL. I want to read it right this fucking second. It’s about a girl who was in remission from cancer, but who joins the cheerleading team. Only, shes technically too tall to be a cheerleader, so she gets an ED which actually puts her at risk for remission. She meets Lani Garver - the literal emodiment of a nonbinary person before that term every existed. Lani Garver is... a fucking angel. An actual angel okay. They help the main character through so much, specifically bullying, and Lani taught ME so much when I read it. The author refers to Lani as he, but remember that it was written before nonbinary was an accepted (possible even before it was a fully labeled) thing, but the book is SO worth reading. I. I’m going to go read it again. 

Streams of Babel and it’s sequel The Fire Will Fall by Carol Plum Ucci: I originally read the second novel first on accident, which just goes to show you how good an author Ucci is becasue I didn’t even NOTICE until I got to the end and saw there was a first novel, oops. But, its a take on the lives of 4 kids in a situation of chemical warfare, and what happens to them when they get poisoned by the water. I think one of the kids is a fucking comptuer genius. Idk, I can’t fully remember, but it is one of my favorite novels, so check them out. 

I’m like 100% that there’s more I could list but those are the ones I could currently recall BECAUSE THIS IS A MONUMENTAL TASK AND I LOVE BOOKS

[ayearofpike]

The Last Vampire

Pocket Books, 1994 193 pages, 13 chapters ISBN 0-671-87264-8 LOC: CPB Box no. 1490 vol. 7 OCLC: 30146931 Released May 1, 1994 (per B&N)

Sita is a vampire, the last of her kind as far as she knows. But someone is after her, someone who has realized that she has far too much wealth and history to be as young as she appears. As she traces it back to find the ringleader, she realizes that she’s being hunted by another. Can she outwit him and survive? The book doesn’t say, but since there’s seven sequels I’m gonna say “probably.”

Ugh. This book totally killed my momentum. I didn’t want to read it, I didn’t want to keep reading it, and I don’t want to write this post now. Because now that I’m getting here, I’m realizing it’s nothing but a slow and painful slide downhill into the thorns that mark the end of Pike’s salad days with Simon & Schuster. The rest of his output under the Archway is eight sequels (at least two of which he’s said he didn’t want to write), two books of short stories, seven new novels that suffer from being rushed and squeezed into the gaps between Spooksville, and The Lost Mind. Excuse me if I don’t jump for joy at what’s offered in this five-year span.

Honestly, there’s really not a lot of story here. Maybe I can actually keep the summary short. 

Sita starts out narrating in first-person present tense, which indicates (if past works are a factor of future performance) that she’s about to die. On the other hand, there’s not a concrete mode that she’s offering as a recording system; she says that she “send[s] out these words ... because it is time” (3). This particular series is one that Pike claims to have written almost entirely on autopilot, like it was available somewhere in the ether and he was the channel to get it onto the page. So we might believe that he hears the narration as he’s writing it, but the rest of the story is a little clumsy for me to believe that.

Sita doesn’t actually identify herself right away. In fact, we get two fake names before we learn the one she was born with. But it’s not from the source we would expect, given that as we meet her she is under investigation by a private detective. He points out her varied and widespread holdings, and how some of them go back more years than she claims to be old — including passports. How does he not mention some of the names on these documents? We’re supposed to believe she’s kept a fake name that she says up front she doesn’t care about long enough for somebody to get suspicious? But I’m getting pedantic and overanalytical, which is going to make me spend more time on this book than I want to. I mean moreso.

So she kills him, of course, but he doesn’t die before revealing he has a son. She can’t get into his computer despite having vast swathes of life experience and knowing more about computers than most people, so instead of taking it and brute-force hacking the password she decides to ask the son for help. So what’s the best way to do this? Vampire high school, twenty-odd years before Twilight. Only rather than the mere hundred-something child Edward Cullen, we have a five-fucking-thousand-year-old enrolling in high school so that she can seduce a kid into giving up a password that there’s no evidence he knows. 

And then she gets hungry, so she drives to a truck stop in California and seduces a long-haul driver, not so much that they actually get it on but enough that she can drink some of his blood and knock him out. Sita isn’t a killer. Even though she just killed a dude and has no compunction about killing if she has to and could have DRANK SOME GODDAMNED BLOOD FROM A DUDE SHE ALREADY KILLED INSTEAD OF MAKING ANOTHER WITNESS

So she goes to school and is in class with the son, Ray, who has a girlfriend. Is that an obstacle? Not for a timeless unfeeling vampire! Neither is a PE class outside in the sun, where all she has to do to survive is wear giant dark sunglasses. Hang on, though — I actually don’t have a problem with authors retrofitting classic monsters with abilities that historically have been weaknesses, or even something totally useless like sparkles and being good at baseball. It’s pretty stupid to assume that one book by one Irish guy is the end-all be-all of worldwide vampire lore. I’m OK with her being outside in the sun.

The PE class is where she meets a sickly and sensitive young man named Seymour, and they connect immediately even though he’s only in the book for five pages at this point. She feels a connection with Ray, too, something primal and ancient, which is the only possible way I’m gonna forgive her not just grabbing the computer and getting the fuck out of Dodge. Like, Sita doesn’t even know what she’s doing in this town in Oregon in the first place (she’s always preferred warmer climates; I don’t know if that’s here or later), so maybe it’s fate or karma or some other unseen force drawing her here. Whatever it is, Ray must feel it too. She cons him into helping her move furniture late at night, but first she has to move all the furniture out of her house and into the garage. And then she has a dream about her backstory.

It all started when Sita, a seven-year-old blonde blue-eyed white girl in ancient India (seriously), had a dear friend, an eight-month-pregnant teenager seven years her senior, who had just died. Some spooky voodoo priest invoked a monster into her to scare off whatever plague was killing everyone, and it ate his face before taking residence inside the dead baby, which came to life in the corpse womb. Sita knows there’s something not right here, so her dad hands her a knife and tells her if she knows the baby’s evil, she has to be the one to kill it. Did I mention Sita is seven fucking years old? So of course she doesn’t, and the baby grows up and is smart and handsome and well-respected. But then the dudes who saw his birth start to go missing, and Sita is the last one he comes for.  By this time she’s married with a kid, and the undead baby is, I don’t know, twelve, but he loves her and must have her. He offers her a choice: go with him and become like him, or die after watching him painfully and slowly kill her husband and daughter. Fucking tweens and their mood swings.

Sita wakes up when Ray comes over. They move furniture, then they drink wine, then they hot tub naked, then they don’t bang because Sita has compunctions or whatever all of a sudden. He mentions that he’s worried about his father, and she says hey, you have the password to his computer, right, so could you look at what he was working on right before he disappeared? Ray is not nearly suspicious enough about this, so they go to his office and Ray unlocks the file, which is apparently a Word document because writers don’t actually know dick about computerized records in 1994. Sita’s brilliant move here is: she tricks Ray into leaving, locks him out, and then copies the file onto a floppy disk before erasing most of it.

The file demonstrates the detective’s supremely idiotic decision to go around the back of the mysterious rich dude who is bankrolling his investigation in order to try to get more money out of the vampire. But still, there’s a fax number, and as @mildhorror has already put it so well I’m going to steal her analogy of “shitty texting.” (It’s even more awkward in Thirst, when Pike tries to clumsily retrofit it to email without changing anything else. Like, holy shit, you can check a Swiss email account in the US?) They arrange to meet on a dock, which Sita has planned so she can jump in the ocean and swim away if things go sideways. And they do: six people with automatic weapons pointing at her, another trained commando ready to do a full-body search. So Sita, with all her wisdom and sensory input and awesomeness ... just lets herself get kidnapped.

BUT THEN. Instead of riding the whole thing out so she can maybe get to whoever is above the investigator’s payer, she says she has to change her tampon and then kills one of the guards that goes into the bathroom with her and escapes with the other. At least she has the sense to threaten this dude into giving up a description before she kills him, and guess what: the mastermind behind the whole investigation is none other than her undead maker. Which, duh, but maybe I don’t have enough distance from this story.

She gets Seymour to pick her up and bring a change of clean clothes, and asks what his deal is being so sick. Turns out Seymour has HIV, from a bad blood transfusion. Don’t worry, 1994 teens, it’s nothing gross like gay sex, as Sita so sensitively asks. He takes her back to her car, and she immediately goes to Ray and tells him that he might be in danger. First smart thing this all-knowing immortal has done. After all, the first vampire, whose powers dwarf hers, has employed Ray’s dad, and if he’s gone missing it sure makes sense that the dude would go after family. If he really is the reincarnation of her husband from five thousand years ago, it makes sense that she’d care about him and want to save him like before. BUT THEN she makes him go with her to her mansion (which is a different house from the one he moved her shit into earlier, which only makes Ray mildly curious) and fucks him to sleep. Seriously, she works his body to the point where she knows he’s going to sleep for a whole day, in the house that the first vampire probably knows about and is going to corner her in.

She dreams some more backstory, this time about the rise and fall of the vampires. Over the course of something like fifty years, they kidnap people and make more of themselves, until they have an army of a thousand. But then they hear about a dude named Krishna, who is supposed to be as powerful as a god. First Vampire doesn’t like that — someone stronger than him — so they go to beat him up. Only his hidden archer manages to kill a bunch of vampires before they can overwhelm Krishna’s numbers, and so they have to agree to a one-on-one, leader-on-leader battle. With flutes. A flute-off. Whoever can flute harder wins.

OK, yeah, and they’re trying to send snakes after the other one. Of course Krishna wins, and while First Vampire is poisoned into a coma, he tells her that he’ll protect her as long as she never makes another one. Then he says something to First Vampire, and heals him, and they all leave. But then not long after that vampires start dying, and Sita bails because she knows what’s coming. She’d heard a rumor that First Vampire was burned to death in Europe, but now I guess she knows it’s not true, because he’s standing outside at sunset when Ray wakes up. Sita goes to talk to him. He confirms that in order to die with Krishna’s grace, he has to destroy all the monsters he’s made. This is at odds with his protection on Sita if she never makes another one, but First Vampire has a plan. And a flute. He flutes so hard he knocks Ray out a third-story window from a hundred yards away, and now Sita has no choice but to turn her supposedly-reincarnated husband. Tricked again!

How is Sita going to trick him back? How can she kill the first vampire without dying herself? For that, our brilliant ageless tactitian ... needs Seymour’s help. I didn’t mention that everybody knows he’s a genius and a writer, so she figures that’s gotta be the only answer for finding a loophole, because, you know, increasing number of author self-inserts as we go along. He suggests that maybe Sita needs to get First Vampire in a situation where he thinks they’ll die together, but rig it so she doesn’t. To thank him, she cures his HIV with her vampire blood, but somehow knows how to do this without accidentally turning him into a vampire.

And then — as if I wasn’t annoyed knowing I’m gonna have to read this shit for like twenty more hours — we hit page 169.

What is Sita — the last vampire, the brilliant planner, the totally emotionless eternal being — going to do to kill the first vampire while somehow saving herself and Ray? Bombs. She steals a bunch of stuff from a construction site, then welds a six-inch steel plate under a couple of chairs, under which she rigs a bomb out of dynamite. She rigs another bomb next to another chair opposite the plate-chairs, where she’ll get him to sit. The plan is: he lights the fuse, but before the big bomb goes off, she triggers the little bomb, which will launch her and Ray out of the skylight and clear of the house before the big one blows it sky-high. No, don’t worry, it’s totally gonna work, she’s got everything figured out and never makes mistakes, as evidenced by this whole book so far.

Of course he sniffs it out, and of course he’s not going to let her escape. Until she tells him the last thing Krishna said to her: “Where there is love, there is my grace.” And he figures the only reason she turned Ray is because she loves him. You know, like you do to a high-school senior when you’re five thousand years old and you’ve known him two days. So he tells them to go, and they’re just clear of the house when the bomb blows up. Only — oh shit! — Sita takes a piano leg through the chest, and Ray can’t get the whole thing out.

And then the book ends.

Do you blame me for being annoyed?

So that’s The Last Vampire, which is clearly now a misnomer. Wonder if she’ll be the last one again as this series drags along. As I recall, the first three complete the story of First Vampire, and the next three sort of stand alone. Maybe one of those is better than I remember. I fuckin’ hope so, because as it stands I am not looking forward to plugging through the rest of this shit.