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bokutosbiceps · 4 months

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‘tis the season | one piece

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~2.1k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit

a/n: welcome to my xmas special for the one piece boys !! OKAY before anyone comes @ me for not choosing a food related activity for luffy, pls know that y’all would not be able to decorate shit. he would eat all of the ingredients and/or you would have to lock him out of the kitchen. some of these are loooooooooong. pls enjoy 🎄

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

eustass kid and the kid pirates will make a competition out of chopping down a christmas tree to put on the bow of their ship. it happens every single year, and kid didn’t used to participate, but when he started dating you, he wanted to be the one to provide you with a tree to decorate and admire.

you always enjoyed watching kid get riled up over something as small as a christmas tree, though. killer, a man with taste, would always find the perfect tree, then kid would lay his claim to it, boasting about how he had an eye for things like this.

this year, it was different, though. kid seemed to be more calm about it than usual and it made the whole crew restless until they reached the island where they'd always look for the trees.

kid’s face stretched into a calm grin at seeing the island approaching, remaining still till the ship was docked and the plank was thrown onto land.

“you comin’ with me?” kid asks, snaking a hand around your waist while he watches the rest of the kid pirates disperse on the island.

“of course!” you happily jump onto kid’s back and point out all the different trees you see and like. kid just shakes his head at you and keeps moving, knowing exactly what he's looking for.

he reaches the edge of the forest and sets you down, shrugging off his coat and grabbing an axe from his belt. it takes him one swing each to fell two small trees.

“will you take those back to the ship, doll? make em look nice.” kid asks, a mischievous smile still settled onto his lips. you don't ask questions and tug the two small trees back to the ship to start decorating them. they likely won't be in the running for the trees the crew will vote on to keep so you figure they’ll look nice to keep in the corners of the captain’s quarters.

one by one, the kid pirates start to make their way back to the ship. and one by one, they trim and prune their trees to make em look especially nice and voteable.

“where’s kid?” killed settlers next to you on the port side, looking out at the forest. you're leaning on the railing and watching the tree line for any speck of red.

“i dunno! he told me to bring back those runt trees to decorate but i haven't seen him since.”

you speak too soon, because not even ten seconds later, you see kid emerge from the tree line, his metal arm gripping what looks to be a twenty foot tall tree.

“i think we all know which one we're keepin'!” kid spreads his arms and looks around at his crew. “right? captain’s orders!” kid grins and gestures toward his tree. the rest of the crew doesn't even argue, they just start stripping the trees of their branches to use as tinder for later.

“so? impressed?” kid approaches you, looking proud as ever.

“bigger isn't always better, kid.” you tease, lightly punching him on the shoulder. he scoops you up into his arms and presses a kiss to your chin.

“oh, you know you love it when it's bigger, baby.”

monkey d luffy is an expert at building snow men because he tries his best to make it look like him! every single year, as soon as there’s enough snow on the ground, he’ll crack his knuckles and start rolling snow into big spheres. the very first time he did this, he made three huge balls of snow and ended up making something resembling more of a snowy caterpillar than an actual human. but he’s learned from his mistakes and is now a master at his craft.

“luffy, can you please put on some gloves? you’re gonna get frostbite!” you call out to him as you watch him roll snow around on the deck. his cheeks and nose are red and he’s sniffling as he shapes the snow into spheres, a big grin on his face despite the freezing temperatures.

“does rubber even freeze?” luffy muses, thinking he’s out of earshot from you and tapping his chin cutely. you smile and shake your head.

“yes, it does!” you say, knowing full well that it doesn’t. but you're hoping your boyfriend might listen to your logic nonetheless. “so that means you can, too!”

“eh, i’ll be fine! i need to be able to feel the snow between my fingertips, anyways!” luffy grins at you and gives you a shivering thumbs up. “you can’t look till i’m done, okay? and no peeking!”

you raise your hands in surrender and join robin and nami in the warm library upstairs while you wait for luffy to finish up with his masterpiece.

almost an hour later, luffy bursts into the library with an excited ready! and wraps his arms around you, pulling you up and out of the warmth and into the cold. once you're close enough to the deck, he releases you and moves his hands over your eyes.

“m’kay, one…two…surprise!” luffy removes his hands from your face and smiles brightly at you as he watches you take in his snow artwork.

there are two snow people, one with a straw hat, and another with features similar to yours. you smile and hug yourself, shivering slightly. luffy notices and drapes himself over your shoulders, effectively warming you up and hearing your cheeks up from both his embrace and his sweet gesture.

“it’s us!” he says proudly, pointing to the way that he situated the twig hands of each snow person to make it look like they’re holding hands. you giggle at his thoughtfulness and kiss the tip of his very red and very cold and very cute nose.

roronoa zoro allows his eyes to follow you around the aquarium bar below the sunny’s deck as you put the finishing touches on two mugs of warm apple cider you made while zoro’s been napping by the fireplace. you smile and settle down next to zoro, sitting cross legged and sipping your drink while you use zoro’s chest to prop up your book.

zoro props himself up on one of his elbows and you move your book back into your lap, not taking your eyes off of the words. zoro takes a long swig of the cider, humming in enjoyment at the way the sweet notes of the rum you'd spiked the cider with hit his tongue.

“what're you doin’?” zoro asks, peering up at you with a slight frown on his face and placing his now empty mug behind him.

“what does it look like?” you answer, turning a page of your book and giving zoro a teasing smile. he just grunts and plucks the book out of your fingers. “zoro, what—”

zoro quickly and carefully, so as to not spill your mug of warm cider, grabs you by the hips and places you on top of his chest. you purse your lips and glare down at your boyfriend, whose eyes are now closed and lips curled into quiet satisfaction.

you decide not to say anything and instead rest your cheek against zoro’s chest. he brings his hands up to rub his fingers over your spine, stopping at the small of your back.

“attagirl.”

trafalgar d water law decides that his least favorite thing in the world to do is going to a christmas market on christmas eve. who could choose a worse day to go to a christmas market? bepo. and since the bear was the one who had begged law to allow them to dock at the sea bound christmas market, law had reluctantly agreed. bepo had made a pretty good argument after all.

“maybe you could find something for y/n-chan while we’re there?” bepo had said, hoping to sweeten the deal with possibly finding something nice for you. you’d only been with law for a little less than a year, so this is your first holiday season as a couple, and law had never really thought of whether or not you’d like something for the holidays.

law is dragged around the market, stopping only at stalls where he notices cute little things that he thinks you might like. he shoves his pride down his own throat to hold up various little knick knacks with a do you think she’d like something like this? to bepo.

law, with a little help from bepo, eventually decides on a tiny little mouse soldier statue, complete with the year and name of the island. when he holds it out to you, his hat covering his eyes and his eyes aimed at the snow piled around where you stood, all you can do is giggle.

you take the little statue from law, turn it over in your hands once, then twice, and smile. law feels like he's going to explode.

“well…do you…?”

“do i what?” you inch toward law, ducking your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, which is still hidden beneath his hat.

law frowns, turning his head to continue avoiding eye contact with you, and clears his throat. “do you like it?”

you look back down at the statue that your boyfriend so carefully and thoughtfully picked out for you. you tilt your head up and quickly flick the brim of law’s hat, tilting it up as well.

“hmm, no.” you say, noticing the way law’s shoulders tense up. you press a kiss intertwined with a smile to his lips before speaking again. “i love it.”

usopp looks forward to the holidays each year because that means he’ll be decorating the sunny with christmas lights till it rivals a fully lit city on the sea!

all day, usopp is crawling around in the rafters, stringing up lights and hanging his homemade decorations on the masts. he had enlisted you to pass him various nails and push pins and tools to help him hang up the decorations, but you'd been playing catch with him the whole time.

usopp is an incredibly intelligent man, but he's clumsy. hours of missteps and slips and whoops had your blood pressure and heart rate through the roof and you don't know how much more you can take.

usopp’s smile is wide as he plugs the two ends of the string lights together, his eyes shining in the reflection of the newly decorated Thousand Sunny.

the ship is ablaze with light, and you can't help but smile yourself. the masts glow in a soft and golden light, the snow on the deck is illuminated by the reflection of small and twinkling star decorations that usopp made just for the crow’s nest. there are ornaments and weaves of pine hanging off of every place possible, giving the ship nice red and green hues.

usopp comes up and wraps his arms around you from behind, giving you a gentle and affectionate squeeze.

“pretty, right? now all the pirates in the grand line will see the great captain usopp’s ship from miles away!” usopp makes a grand sweeping gesture with his hand and turns to grin at you proudly.

you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “looks amazing, captain usopp.”

vinsmoke sanji closes off the kitchen on christmas eve, after christmas eve dinner, to allow for some privacy while the two of you decorate christmas cookies for the rest of the crew. sanji usually doesn't let anyone else in the crew help out in the kitchen, unless it's you. he likes feeling close to you, his favorite person, when he's in his favorite place, while he's doing his favorite thing.

“no competition, here, okay?” sanji’s pressed up against your back and his hands are on your shoulders when he skims a kiss to the nape of your neck. "let's just have a nice time together, hm?"

he smiles at you before he sets to decorating the cookies with you, jazz playing softly through the radio and sanji making easy conversation or praising your decorations.

you nudge sanji’s shoulder with your own and nod your head down at the cookie you're holding. sanji’s eyes light up when he sees your initials written in blue icing, separated by a pink heart.

“y/n-chan, my love!” sanji cries, throwing his arms around your neck and hugging you tightly. he cups your face and kisses you slowly, ignoring the creaking of the kitchen door and light footsteps creeping closer to the two of you.

you open your eyes just in time to see luffy swipe the cookie you had just shown sanji and make a run for it. sanji follows your eyes and stares at luffy’s back in horror.

you look up to tell sanji that it's no big deal, you can just decorate another one, but sanji is already running after luffy; he's desperate to save the cookie you had decorated with your names on it.

“luffy, get the hell back here so i can put your ass down the garbage disposal!”

#one piece #eustass kid #kid #kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #trafalgar law #law #law x reader #usopp #usopp x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 6 months

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part 11- a thousand candles burn into the night

"When the ashes start to rise and the moon falls from the sky and a thousand candles burn into the night. When the angels softly cry on the flames below the sky, would a thousand souls still pray for you and I?" -Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead

Masterlist Part 10

Just like the summer air began to cool into autumn winds, Jasmine and Jason began with a heated tension between them that dwindled into a slow simmer of what neither of them wanted to jinx by calling it love.

Both were aware of how unnatural their connection was, how quick one was able to trust the other with simple thoughts that roll off the tongue- Jazz’s favorite tea, Jason’s favorite book, her younger siblings, his many brothers. It was obvious that Jason held some lingering anger towards those he called family, but it was an old wound, infected yet healing. When it came to more in-depth questions about Jazz’s siblings, Danny and Ellie, there was a sad tinge to the affection. Jazz missed Ellie with every fiber of her being, but her little sister was free as her heart desired.

Jason spoke at length about his own, eventually admitting his anger issues that had led him to attempted murder on one of the younger boys, Tim, that he deeply regretted.

Jazz had only to listen, because who else could understand the deeply rooted rage that came with betrayal?

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already.

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash.

Slash six, seven

Sharpen your love into a weapon

They went out on several dates, each one special and lovely, but Jazz’s favorite was being wrapped in familiar arms as they watched Pride and Prejudice on Jason’s couch. It was a comfortable warmth that lulled the redhead into a deep sleep, the best she had gotten in a long time.

Jazz was the first to wake, lying on Jason’s firm chest and ear pressed firmly to where she could hear a faint purr from his Proto-Core, she felt no compulsion to move even though there were things she had to do as Regent and as Jasmine.

She had to talk to Frostbite, because she needed to understand why she was so connected to Jason. It frightened Jazz, to have her emotions so sharpened towards someone she hadn’t known for very long.

(She was in love.)

Her own Proto-core purred in tandem with Jason’s, happiness bubbling up in her chest. This was a peace she never wanted to let go, regardless of the reason why the two of them were brought and bound together.

Jason was in love.

There was zero doubt in his head or heart that he was fully committed to his darling Jazz, the beautiful woman who understood him in ways no one ever had. With her, the pit remnants were calm and he was happy.

Happy.

Sheer happiness was in his grasp, in his arms and resting on his chest as she slept. Her long hair smelled like strawberries and he never wanted to leave.

Yet, bat-trained paranoia reared its ugly head in moments like these.

Jasmine Nightingale was, by all accounts, a civilian with a trust fund who cared for her younger brother. No other records were found that could tie either Jazz or Danny to crime, but Jason didn’t want to see them if they existed anyway. He hadn’t even met Danny yet and the kid, despite being prime adoption bait, was already one of Jason’s favorite people. He made Jazz proud with his intelligence and good-natured attitude, so Jason would do his best to form a good relationship with the kid.

He guessed he should be more concerned with how quickly he fell for his darling, but he wasn’t. It felt right. It felt safe. Like he could trust Jazz with every thought, every dream, every hope, every nightmare and she wouldn’t run away. He wanted her, plain and simple.

Thankfully Jazz was more or less on the same page as him.

She never had to say a word about how she felt for him, it was obvious in the way she would gravitate towards him, want to be around him, talk to him, simply be with Jason. How honored he felt to be gifted such attention by Jazz.

He didn’t know how to tell her about Red Hood though.

The Nightingales lived outside Crime Alley’s borders, in a shitty neighborhood of Gotham recently claimed by two new vigilantes- Phantom and Regent.

Jason tried to shove back the horrifying images of a vivisectied Phantom, screaming, sobbing and whimpering, but he would ever be able to forget.

The video of Regent killing the Fentons was glitched, but cross referenced with the Ghost Files, it was obvious the Regent of Now and Then were the same woman…entity that saved Phantom, no, avenged the ghost kid.

The fact that the Fentons death prevented a war was karmic justice, in his humble opinion.

Yet, there was something familiar about the Regent. Something that called to him on a baser level… as if he knew the entity behind the helmet.

But that was ridiculous…right?

Right?

Jazz was going to kill him all the way this time, Danny bemoaned while in flight. He really stuck his foot in it this time and yikes, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

He just had to go behind Jazz’s back and give the Ghost Files to Batman instead of Superman or Constantine. Big and blue wasn’t available when Danny found an opportunity and for shame if he wasted it! Sad trench coat man being there was really just a bonus, honestly.

With the Acts getting the League’s attention, it was time for a desperate move on the part of the GIW.

They infiltrated Gotham.

Danny had no idea how they had found a way past the border Lady Gotham kept a tight leash on, but the agents were able to pick up his trail with a lucky break on their end. He had a haunt in Gotham, which meant his ecto-signature was strong in that area and weak in others. A glaring neon sign of where the Phantom often could be found.

But Danny would never give up his haunt again, not without a fight.

This haunt didn’t just belong to him, not like Amity had. This had become the home of the Nightingales, the Phantom and the Regent. They had shed blood to claim it and would shed more to keep it.

If it meant admitting to his mistake, then so be it, that’s where he would start.

“Bold of you to assume I thought that far ahead.” Was probably not the best response to Jazz’s irate question of ‘Did you even consider what Batman, Mr. Contingencies-out-the-ass and minion-acquisition-instead-of-therapy, would do with the files?’

Needless to say, Jazz wasn’t impressed.

She had been rather happier lately, with her boyfriend Jason constantly in her orbit, but responsibility still weighed on her.

(Danny’s fault, he was aware, but he still had so much growing up to do before he was ready for the crown.)

Getting the AEA demolished was sure to take some weight from her, even if it would be only the beginning of resolving the repercussions of the United States’ crimes against the Infinite Realms.

It would be years before it would be considered repaid, the blood shed and existences snuffed out. The deaths of the Dr. Fentons were only a consequence of their actions, not truly recompense for the torture they inflicted on the people of the Realms.

(Danny never told Jazz, but he knew they didn’t die when the portal was destroyed.)

(He knew his sister had killed their parents to save him.)

(He still didn’t know how to feel about that.)

Lady Gotham offered a sad croon as Phantom curled his form under a gargoyle’s wings, the heavy rain an ironic ambiance for his mood.

There was nothing he could do about the GIW in Gotham until they showed themselves and they were doing an unusually good job of keeping on the down low. If it hadn’t been for the frantic screeches of the friendly shades and a few blob ghosts cuddling him for comfort, he would have been caught off-guard by an attack. As long as he stayed out of his haunt for a while, let his signature be caught somewhere else, then Jazz would be able to defend their home until he could deal with the bastards.

He just needed to wait.

Jazz had been livid with him admitting his fuck up with the files and deeming the GIW’s presence his fault for claiming a Haunt. With a threat to hug him and make him talk about his feelings until he no longer believed such a lie, Jazz agreed to remain in their Haunt until he could draw some of their forces away. Lady Gotham’s ecto-siganture would be enough to scramble their trackers once further into her city and she would subtly lead her Knights to the agents when able.

It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.

Phantom curled his tail around his laid back form, mimicking a cat as he texted Sam and Tucker with updates. They had sworn to visit him during Summer Break, but the Halfa wasn’t holding his breath. Gotham wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for anyone and that’s coming from a kid who can punt a building into the sun at a moment’s notice.

Amity was (laughably) the best place for them.

Phantom wasn’t really paying attention, absentmindly petting a blob ghost that was cuddled into his side, when he was joined by none other than the Red Hood.

Badass armor and weapons aside, the Hood was an Antihero he admired. The avenged dead sung his praises for all who’d listen.

And… he was very familiar.

Red Hood possessed a Proto-core, one he’d sensed before in his own home….with Jazz.

It couldn’t be. There was no way the Fenton luck could be that wonky that his big sister was dating Red Hood of all people, Jason Todd when unmasked. She had to know right? There was no way Jazz could miss the Proto-core signature of the Once-Revenant they’d housed for a while. Was Jazz okay with Jason’s past? Sure, Red Hood didn’t kill much anymore, but he was still a crime lord who thought severed heads in a duffel bag was a great gift to leave on someone’s doorstep, like a particularly picky cat.

“Uh, hi?”

Hood crouched down, rain blocked by his huge body, water droplets dripping off his red helmet. The white lenses gave nothing away as the Anti-hero spoke, “Hey kid. You ok?”

(Danny was well aware of how gentle and caring Red Hood was towards kids.)

(He couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)

“I’m fine, dude. Just chilling.”

“Under a gargoyle in Gotham?” The disbeliving tone made Phantom snort in laughter, because wow not the scariest concept to a halfa.

“Hey, it was either this or the sewers. I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Phantom chuckled a bit at his joke. “Down there without hazmat gear and the Anti-Creep stick.”

Hood snorted, the sound stackity through the modulator, “Fair enough. Don’t get caught by the big bat, ok? He doesn’t like Metas in his city.”

“Oi, being dead is a meta-cal condition.”

“Ugh,” Hood groaned, “a punster. You’re not dead, kid.”

“‘Fraid I am, my good dude. Fourteen and fried alive, zero outta ten, would not recommend.”

“...You’re a ghost?”

“Right in one! Name’s Phantom.” the Halfa offered, seeing no point in correcting the Anti-hero.

“Red Hood.”

“Dude, I know. The shades sing your praises given half a chance.”

“Shades?”

Phantom shrugged, “The restless dead, unable to pass over without a lot of ectoplasm.”

Hood didn’t ask what ectoplasm was, which surprised the Halfa. Did Batman share the Ghost Files with Red Hood?

“You’re from Amity Park, right?”

Phantom cringed at the name of his former haunt, anger bubbling in his gut, “I died there. I haunt Gotham now.”

“....I’m sorry.” Even with the modulator, Hood sounded genuinely sad for Phantom.

(Batman definitely shared the Ghost Files with the Anti-Hero.)

“Are you alright here? Do you need help?”

Phantom shook his head, “The GIW invaded Gotham tracking my Ecto-signature, so I’m leading them away from my Haunt.” He raised an eyebrow, “You should be careful too. You’re a pretty strong liminal, but they’ll still try to capture you.”

“No, they won’t get me. Phantom, where’s your haunt?”

If Hood was anyone else, Phantom would keep his mouth shut. A Haunt is sacred, a home for a Fraid, it was not some measly address freely given. Yet, Red Hood was also Jason Todd, Once-Revenant Death-claimed Champion turned Proto-core Liminal dating his older sister. If Jazz trusted him enough to date him, then it was good enough for Phantom to offer him a place in his Fraid. (He really couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)

A/N: This was beta-read by @meditating-cat, thanks!

The little bit at the end there... foreshadowing, perhaps? Ooh... all those baby names I could give a Hardcover kid.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows. I have the end of this series mostly planned out, but it could likely change.

Thanks for reading!

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #I made myself squeal #They're just so CUTE #they're in love your honor #two dorks #two vigilantes #and only one knows the other is one #spoiler: not the one you'd think #In which Jason is kinda a sweetheart #He's in love with Jazz #she fell first he fell harder

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manicplank · 2 months

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Man, I just LOVE your headcanons!💜🥺

So I wanted to ask if you could do one related to "How do they like to spend a cold/snowy day with Reader?"

(sorry if anyone has asked this before)

Snowy day with the reader

This one is LOOONG so buckle up. (It's more of short stories rather than small headcanons. I liked this prompt.)

Gustavo: He doesn't like the cold, but he thinks the snow is beautiful. However, he prefers to stay inside where it's warm. He asks you to come over and help him try out a new recipe. He wanted to make some soup but wasn't quite sure what kind he wanted to make. You suggest (your favorite), and he thinks it's a good idea. The two of you take turns reading the recipe and putting ingredients together, all while trying to keep Brick from eating it. Ta-da! The soup comes out fantastic, and the two of you are proud. And Brick got some for being a good boy.

Peppino: He despises the cold. Instead of going out and doing something exciting, the two of you stay in the warm. You suggested a movie for him (insert your favorite movie here), and he asked if you'd like to come over and watch it with him. You, of course, said yes. He welcomes you in and apologizes for the house being a messy, even though it isn't so bad. He asks if he can make you a drink; your choice of coffee, tea, or hot cocoa. He makes the drinks and you two sit to watch the movie. He ends up falling asleep halfway. You wake him up after the movie ends. He's completely embarrassed. You told him you let him sleep because you figured he needed it. He apologizes a million times and offers you to come back and do it again another day.

Mr. Stick: Another one who despises the cold. He prefers indoor activities, whether they be at home or in a building. You two were supposed to hang out, but he came up with an idea. He wanted to take you to a casino and go gambling. You explain to him that you're much of a gambler and that he probably has a gambling problem. He shrugs and suggests an even better idea; an arcade. The two of you end up in an arcade where you play laser tag. You win, of course, and he challenges you to mini golf. You were winning, but you drew back and let him win this one. He was super happy. Afterward, the two of you head out for a nice meal at a fancy place which he insisted on paying for.

Pepperman: He doesn't like the cold. In fact, he's easily susceptible to frostbite since he's a plant. He can't really go outside, so instead, he invites you to come to his art studio. You're reluctant, thinking he might have something weird in mind. However, when you get there, you see canvases, bottles of paint, brushes, and a few Bob Ross VHS tapes. "Hey," he greets you. "I hope you don't mind, but I think we should paint some snowy landscapes instead of going out. I know you're not the best artist, so we can do something simple." You smile. This little gesture was unusually sweet of him. You agree, assuming you won't be great at painting. As Bob Ross guides you, Pepperman does, too. Whenever you get confused, he pauses the tape and helps you out. You actually end up making a fantastic painting! He compliments you greatly and admires your art style. It was insane to hear that coming from a narcissist like him.

The Vigilante: He really doesn't like the cold all that much, so he invites you over for dinner. He asks what you'd like, and you ask for (insert your favorite food). He makes a face... He's never cooked that before. He's not quite sure it'll end up too well. You offer to help, and he accepts. He has a bunch of fresh meat and produce grown on the farm. You're amazed by it as most of the stuff in the tower is filled with junky preservatives or pizza flavor. He chuckles and explains that his family has always grown their own food. He tries to follow the recipe but keeps getting confused. You end up taking the lead. He's so embarrassed. He apologizes several times and does his best to help out. You both make a great team. You finish the meal and sit down to eat with him. He tells you all the stories about growing up on the farm, and you have a great meal.

The Noise: While he absolutely HATES the cold, he likes the outdoor activities that come with it. His favorite is of course snowboarding. He takes you to the slopes with him. Noisette didn't want to come with. She fell last year and is too afraid to go again. You check into the lodge and see him waiting for you. It felt weird for you to see him out of costume. You have your choice of either skiis or snowboard. (Insert your choice.) You sit together on the lift and chat a bit on the way up. WOW, is he talkative. The two of you get to the top of the mountain. You forgot to explain that you actually DON'T know how to do this, and before you can, he's already speeding down the slope. You follow behind him as best as you can, but your balance is horrible. You're going so quick! You see a ramp coming up. He takes the jump. You weren't going to, but you can't slow down or steer! You plummet flat into the snow. He comes over in a rush. He's red-faced and embarrassed. He forgot how extreme he can be sometimes. You end up needing to be airlifted to a hospital as you probably have a concussion. Oops...

Noisette: She likes the cold and the snow! The Noise went out snowboarding, but after she was injured last year, she didn't want to go. Instead, she asks you to come over and bake something with her. You're a little hesitant since her food skills can be... well... sometimes, it can be lethal. She asks what you would rather do instead. You say you'd love to do something in the snow. Hmmm... Sledding? No, she's too afraid to fall again. Then she suggests going out and building something. You agree. You two decide to have a snowman building competition. The score is based on timing, size, and aesthetic. The two of you race around the yard, picking up sticks and stones. She throws a snowball at you from out of nowhere, so you throw one back. The snowman building competition had suddenly become a snowball fight. By the end of it, you're both covered in snow, and some snow even got in your clothes. You go inside to warm up. "Oh, hey, guess what," she asks. You turn to her and she throws one last snowball in your face.

Fake Peppino: He HATES HATES HATES winter and everything about it! Snow? Cold!Weather? COLD! Frogs don't like the cold! You try to get him to come outside, but he doesn't budge. You even try throwing something out there for him to fetch, but he still won't move. Hmmm... You pile up some blankets and pillows and plop down into it. He seems confused at first, but you lay there and wait. Eventually, it clicks in his brain. He comes over and wraps around you like a cat would. The two of you enjoy a warm nap in a nest of pillows. He starts croaking in his sleep, which wakes you up. You also see him twitching a little. He's dreaming! You pet him on the head, accidentally waking him up. He pulls you under him and goes back to sleep.

Pizzahead: He doesn't mind the cold. He doesn't necessarily like it, but it comes with fun activities. He invited you to go ice skating with him, and you agreed. However, when you get to the rink, you see him dressed up in a beautiful outfit with sequins and glitter scattered all over. He even brought his own skates. You grab some from the rental and put them on. He has to help you walk over to the rink so you don't roll an ankle. He pushes you on gently. He then goes flying past you, doing all sorts of tricks and twirls. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," he calls out, "that I'm kind of really good at this!" He laughs. You try your best, but you can barely stand up straight. He comes over and grabs you, helping you stay upright. "See what I'm doing with my feet? Push your foot forward with half of your weight." You do so and almost fall, but he catches you. You try again, and you get it. Then you do it with your other foot. "Okay, now do a flip," he jokes. He grabs your hand and spins you around. Suddenly, you're going backward. "Yes, you've got it! Now lean into it and move your feet as if you're walking forward." You try to do so, but lose your balance and topple over. He skates over laughing. He helps you up. "Come on, now. Let's try that again."

Pillar John: He's ecstatic. He hasn't seen it snow in a while. He asks if you want to go sledding with him. You try to explain to him that you're afraid he'll crush you, but he insists you'll be fine. You reluctantly agree. You meet him at the bottom of a hill. It's huge! You tell him you're not sure you'll be able to get up there. "Don't worry," he says, "watch this!" He picks you up and puts you on top of his head. He runs up the hill like it's nothing. "Hold on tight!" He tosses you on his back as he dives face first down the hill. You scream in horror at first. Once you figure out what's happening, you're laughing with joy. You come to the bottom and hop off of him. He rolls onto his side, "Wasn't that great?" You laugh and nod. "Wanna do it again?" You smile and nod, and he tosses you back up on his head. The two of you do this for a good hour before he's tuckered out. You're shocked he never rolled over on you and killed you.

Gerome: You ask him if he's doing anything later, and he shrugs. So, you ask if he wants to do something with you, and he shrugs again. You suggest skiing, he says no. You suggest snowball fights, he says no. You suggest making a snowman, he says no. You finally ask him what he wants to do. He says that he'd rather read near a fireplace or watch a movie. You agree to a movie and ask which one he prefers. He says he'll watch whatever you pick. You pick your favorite movie, but you warn him that it might be a little boring since Peppino fell asleep during it. He says that it can't be any more boring than being a janitor. You two sit down and watch the movie, and he actually ends up enjoying it. Afterwards, he's much more cheerful and talkative. You tell him there's a second one, and he tells you to put it on.

I told you to buckle up.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #pizzahead #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #the vigilante #pillar john #mr. stick #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

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ganymede-princess · 3 months

Text

The Craving | Jack Conroy

ship: Jack Conroy x fem!OC

warnings: mentions of death, brief description of healed frostbite

summary: Jack meets a musher girl on his first day in Alaska.

word count: 2826

a/n: I am actually extremely proud of this so I hope somebody reads it haha

written by @ganymedeprincess

This story can be read as a one-shot or as the first chapter of a larger fic which can be read here.

Living in the Yukon, you get used to craving. You crave warmth, food that doesn’t come from a can, a bed with a real mattress and a roof over it, the sight of a fresh face and fresh conversation. I had been out there for nearly seven years by the time I met Jack Conroy, and nearing my seventeenth birthday too. I stood at the edge of our camp, watching the prospectors stumble out of the narrow passage at the top of the pass, like rats spewing from a drainpipe. He caught my eye then, beet-red and fresh of face, dressed warm, but not warm enough, his eyes glazed with exhaustion and wonder. He reminded me of myself the first time I climbed the Golden Staircase, back when snow still glittered like pixie dust, and my father’s promise of a gold seam to call our own didn’t ring hollow as the wind through an empty mine. I knew Conroy instantly; the mirror of his father, the man who raised me better than my own. I kept my head down as he looked around, knowing he was there for Alex, but not wanting to face it. The Yukon would turn that boy hard as ice before long, and I didn’t want to watch it happen.

As he traipsed over to us, I crossed my arms and glared at him. Go home, Conroy. I thought. Go shack up somewhere warm, and be happy. He didn’t look at me once, so consumed with his mission. I shielded my face and retreated to the tent. The coffin was easier to face than Alex breaking his heart. Despite my reluctance, I knew I would not have minded taking him on. There were few young people so far into the mountains, except the few kids at the Tlingit village along the trail, but we never stayed long enough to get to know them. The boy could become my companion, of sorts. We would take him north-west from Dyea to Klondike, then set him loose to find his way to the Conroy claim to spend a few months frantically digging into the hill; and go home colder, hungrier, and poorer in spirit. I wouldn’t even have to see it break him. Alex wasn’t like that. He was a pragmatist. He and Skunker knew how to mush, and they took me on because I was the best scout you’d ever need, thanks to my daddy’s training. This boy was a city slicker, and the best he could offer the team was a morale boost, and Skunker was already too cheerful for Alex’s liking. We couldn’t take him. He’d be a dead weight. I tried to close my ears to his charming, eager voice as he tried to butter up old Larson. Soon enough, Alex stepped into the tent and nodded for me to help him lift the coffin. I set my teeth and heaved it. ‘Heavy’ doesn’t begin to cut it.

“Who’s in there?” Conroy asked, puffing a white cloud as he tried to catch his breath.

“Name’s Dutch.” Alex caught my eye and nodded in acknowledgement. I said nothing.

As sweet as his cold, dead daddy, Jack Conroy helped me lift the box. He waffled on in a voice tense with effort, about maps and letters, and gold dust in an envelope his father sent him on his deathbed. My heart ached at the thought of kind old Scotty, dying alone in his claim with that grey lump of diphtheria in his throat. We found him frozen one winter a few years past, and I left a bundle of purple lupines on his grave. My eyes started to burn and something in my throat thickened as I finished tying up my corner of the sled. I pushed past Jack to tie his side. He stumbled, his shoes struggling for purchase on the packed snow. Wolfish fury passed over his face as he regained his footing, then he calmed and went back to pleading his case.

“Everybody finds a little gold dust.” Alex assured him. “That’s what keeps you digging. But you have to strike it, and your father didn’t. Go home and find a regular job. You wouldn’t last a day out here.”

Something odd happened then. I caught the boy’s eye, still glimmering with hope, and realised three nuggets of truth at once: one; this boy was no stranger to craving adventure, glory, and a namesake, but craving food, craving heat? He had never wanted for these things in his life. Two; he had that grit in his teeth that showed the true conviction of his words. He would try to journey to the Conroy claim, with or without our help. And three; I had never known craving until I craved him.

“I’m a good worker, and I just want what’s mine.” He insisted, his soft voice strained in earnest as he trailed Alex’s heels. “I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“Skunker!” I slapped the old man’s feet, sending him thrashing into wakefulness. You better back me up here you stinkin’ old bastard.

“Damn, what is it?” He exclaimed, limbs flailing as he leapt to his feet. “Alex!” He breezed past both Jack and me, still dazed with one foot in a fancy. “I was dreaming you, me, and Dutch was livin’ it up in Frisco! ‘Lil Quinn at a real college, the works!”

“Get the dogs ready.” Alex said coldly. This was his way.

“I hope Dutch appreciates this ride.” Skunker bemoaned, ignoring Alex’s crotchety comment and making no attempt to hide his annoyance for my sake. I damn well agreed with him. “‘Cause you shoulda died at your digs!” He hit the coffin with his fist. “Saved us a trip back.”

“Are you going near my father’s claim?”

“Scott Conroy’s son!” I called after Skunker. He turned on his heels, a half sceptical look on his face.

“What? Lemme see that face, kid.” He got up in the boy’s face and grabbed him by the chin, inspecting him close with beady eyes. Jack held his breath against the smell. “My God, Alex, he’s the spittin’ image of his old man! And I knew ya pa well. Clarence Thurston.”

“Jack Conroy.” Skunker slapped him into a frenzied handshake.

“You throwin’ in with us?” I knew I could trust old Skunker to have my back. I didn’t even have to plead a case for him.

“Yeah, I’d like to.”

“No.” Alex said simply. I knew this wouldn’t be easy.

“No? You’re taking him with you and you’re not gonna take me? He looks half dead already!”

I giggled. The first laugh I’d had since my daddy kicked the bucket. I slapped a mitten over my mouth to hide it and slipped away to wake up the dogs while Skunker bartered some gum out of him as an apology. Our wheelers, Fritz and Fatty, stirred and wagged their tails as I ran my hands through their fur, whining and baring their teeth in greeting.

“Hey, don’t worry about him.” Skunker assured him, waking up Digger and George, our swing team. “He’s just tired, that’s all.”

“Yeah, or he knows there’s gold out there and wants it for himself.”

“Woah, boy! You got the harness on the wrong dog.”

“Conroy.” I spoke up, meeting his hostile stare and forcing a calm over my body despite how flustered I felt. “If there’s one man you can trust in this damn place it's Alex Larson.”

He scoffed, seeming to ignore my words entirely, and rounded on Alex.

“Listen, if you don’t wanna take me, I’ll go by myself. I’ll get rich by myself too.”

“I think he’s crazy enough to do it Alex!”

“Skunker’s right.” I left the wheelers and sidled up beside him. “The Yukon will swallow him whole, we gotta take him.”

“Quinn, we can’t take him just because you think he’s cute.” Alex put on a shit-eating grin and tapped my arm with his glove.

“It’s not jus’ that.” My face heated up, but I saw no sense in denying it if it was already that obvious. “He’s got a musher’s spirit in him, even if he is green as snow peas, and I don’t wanna find him dead in the woods come summer and know we killed him.”

“Come on, Alex, he’s Scott’s boy!” Thank you Skunker! “Look at him, huh? How much trouble could he be?”

He cast a final sceptical glance at Jack, but conceded. Skunker winked. I stared him down for a second, admiring the swoop of his dark blonde hair, then let my lips twitch into a curt smile.

“I’ll take you as far as Klondike. Fall behind, and I’ll leave you where you drop. Understand?” Alex was all talk, as usual. Even if he wasn’t, he would realise soon enough that leaving this boy in the snow would mean signing two death papers at the Klondike post office.

“Yes, sir.” Jack beamed. At the sight of his smile, I felt the craving stir again, paired with a healthy portion of despair. I knew a virile young man like that would never make do with a musher girl who had lived amongst men so long that she had nearly become one, and often felt more dog than person; but to travel beside him for a while would be a gift.

Alex retreated to the tent to nurse his regret, and Skunker went out to the tuck tent to get some minced meat for the dogs. I went back to playing with the pack, settling beside them and letting the six team dogs crowd around me and vie for my attention. Jack came to sit beside me, eying me as cautiously as the dogs. The thin, agouti bitch who laid at the edge of the group got to her paws and came to watch him with her ice blue eyes. Her body was relaxed, though she let out a deep rumble

“Connie.” She turned her ear to me, but kept her eyes hard on the boy. “He’s a fine boy, he won’t hurt me. He’s Scotty’s boy.” Her ear twitched back up at Scott’s name. “Heel, Connie.” She stepped over to me, eyes always trained on Jack. “Sit now, girl.” She did. I reached over and laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder, stroking it like I would a dog. “Now do the same to me.” His eyes flickered to me, hesitant, but he did as I said. Connie cocked her head, then pinned her ears back and wagged her tail. “See girl, he’s alright.”

“Can I touch her?” His voice was full of wonder.

“You have to ask her. Give her your fist. Gentle now.”

Slowly, he raised his fist to her. Their eyes met. Connie froze, and for a long moment I thought she might bite him, but then her body relaxed and she licked his hand, then his arm, and soon she had climbed all the way on top of him to lick his chops. He giggled and squirmed under her weight and collapsed onto his back.

“Connie! Settle down, girl, he ain’t for eatin’! I know he looks tasty.” I wrapped my arms around her middle and lifted her off him.

“Thank you,” He puffed, clambering off the snow. “Um…”

“Quinn.” Meeting his eyes was almost painful. They were so blue, like a clear day when the sky reflects on the snow so bright it’s almost blinding.

“Ah, thank you, Quinn.”

I looked away and stroked down Connie’s hackles. Setting my teeth together to keep from chattering. Nerves make the cold so much harder to bear.

“How’d a girl like you wind up out here?”

“You noticed, huh?” I raised my eyebrows. “Not many folks do these days. I got used to being called ‘son’ years ago, on account of my boyish charms.” To his credit, Jack chuckles, though I was sure that must have been the first joke I’d told anyone but Connie-dog. “Doesn’t help having a boy’s name, neither.”

“I think Quinn’s a fine name for a girl.” He said it earnestly enough that I managed to spare a glance at him. “And I knew you were a girl as soon as I saw you.” I said nothing, only squished some snow between my fingers to hide my squirming. I almost wished he hadn’t seen me at all. “‘Cause I’d never known a boy to be that pretty.”

“Now, Jack-” I started, my embarrassment trying hard to fester itself into anger. Well, ain’t you living proof to the contrary?

“It’s the truth!” He shifted closer to me, and I shifted away in return, bringing my knees up to my chest and pulling my scarf over my nose. “So how did you end up out here?”

“Mushin,’” I gave him a sidelong glance. “Been out here with my daddy since I’s ten. It’s how I make my living.”

“Who’s your da- your father, who is he?” His face reddened, making me giggle. I hid my face in my knees to cover it.

“Who’s my daddy?” I lean a little closer, enjoying being the one to make him squirm. “Well, he’s a fella by the name o’ Ysbrandt Maarschalkerweerd, but ain’t nobody this side the Atlantic can pronounce that, so they jus’ called him Dutch.”

“Oh.” He took a moment to digest it. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, that’s life.”

“I-I suppose?”

“It is. People just up and die out here sometimes.” I pushed away one of the team dogs from licking up my ear without checking who it was. “It’s not so bad.”

“You don’t miss him?”

“Not as much as I miss yours.” I admitted. “He was more of a father to me than my own ever was.”

“Really?” He leaned in, brow furrowed in contemplation.

“Yeah. He checked on me a lot, and one time- musta been about thirteen- I stayed with him at the claim for nearin’ six months while daddy and Skunker mushed supplies up to Nome. That’s when he bought Connie-dog for me. We went down to Klondike a fair bit to watch the fiddlers, see, and one time there’s a little boy sellin’ puppies. Turns out ol’ Colton’s lead bitch got knocked up by a wolf while they were out in the woods. Cost your daddy a whole dollar, but she’s been an asset ever since.”

“Wow.” He stroked the brindled fur between her eyes with reverence.

“It’s right we take you to Klondike. I think if you live an honest life out here- you stay true, you never rob, or hurt your dogs- your bones turn into a new gold seam when you die. Your pa never struck gold, but he might have made some for you.”

“Huh.” He looked thoughtful.

“Don’t let this place kill your kindness, Jack. You might leave some gold behind.”

“I won’t.” He noticed the scepticism on my face and added more emphatically: “I won’t.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Eighteen and still a green lil’ bean.” I shook my head. “You need better gear ‘n this. C’mon.”

He followed me dutifully to the sled where I dug around in my pack and produced my spare scarf, wool trapper hat that I usually wore under my coonskin, and a spare pair of fur cover-gloves to wear over his mittens.

“When you’re out in it, keep a scarf around your nose and mouth.” I pull the glove off my left hand with my teeth and show him the stub of my pinky finger, the missing tip on my index, and the hollow gouged into the pad at the base of my thumb. “‘Else you’ll lose ‘em like my fingers.” His eyes widened. “Wear these gloves over your mittens. I don’t have another coonskin, but you need more’n a baker’s cap to protect your ears. Tie it under your chin so it don’t blow off. You do that, you keep up with the sled, an’ you respect these dogs, and you’ll make it to Klondike with nothing missing.”

“Will they bite me?” He casted a nervous glance at the pack.

“No, but if you try anything abnormal I’ll bite you. They call me Dogtooth up at the Tlingit camp ‘cause a boy tried it on wi’ me and I bit square through his pecker.”

“Really?” He cringed, taking a step back.

“No.” I put my glove back on, smirking. “But you believed me, which gotta count for somethin.’”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Fightin’ already?” Skunker called out, hobbling along with two buckets full of fish.

“No, Skunker!” I waved him off. “Did too. Now come feed the puppies ‘fore they starve, get in their good graces.”

I turned to walk away, but Jack caught my shoulder and pushed himself flush against my back. I felt my heart quicken in that terrible, delicious rhythm as his lips brushed my ear. Every inch of me trembling with a craving like I had never felt.

“Did. Not.”

#ethan hawke #ethan hawke x reader #todd anderson x reader #white fang #jack london #call of the wild #white fang 1991 #jack conroy x reader

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totheblood · 2 years

Text

people i don't like | tom holland

act one: round one

summary: college is much harder than you thought it would be and now you have to pretend to be rich and join a sorority to keep your scholarship. tom just happens to be the rich frat boy who gets thrown in the mix.

↳ richkid!au, college!au

word count: 4.3k+

(a/n at end of chapter)

You were generally a smart person.

At least that’s what you told yourself. You were smart, in an over-achieving, high marks on all your papers kind of way. You were smart, in a valedictorian, staying up late studying type of way. You were smart enough to earn yourself a seat at one of the most elite universities in the world. You were also smart enough to earn yourself a full ride. However, you were not as smart as you thought.

As you grew accustomed to the harsh Connecticut winter, bulking up in thick wool jackets and getting warm with herbal teas, you failed to adapt to the rigorous curriculum at Yale. You found it hard to keep up with your peers, the due dates always being earlier than expected and the words that got you through high school somehow falling short. Whatever work you were doing was described by your professors as dull, lacking understanding, and rushed no matter how hard you tried. This would’ve meant seemingly nothing, the only downside being a bit of a bruised ego, but every time you got a bad grade your mind drifted to your mother.

Your mother who sent you off to college with her last five paychecks and a kiss on the cheek. The mother who raised you all by herself after your father abandoned you. The mother who worked multiple jobs to pay the bills and make sure you never felt the lack of your father. The woman who you knew, even if it wasn’t explicitly said, was banking on the fact that you would graduate from an ivy league and land any job you wanted. A part of you knew your mother would always be proud of you, no matter what you did, but you still felt your stomach sink at the idea that your scholarship might be jeopardized with your poor grades and you would have to leave Yale and compromise the future your mother expected of you.

To your surprise you finished your first semester with 2 A’s, 3 B’s, and a bit of frostbite from the blizzard you had the night before finals. You were really shocked, however, that you had gotten an A in your Advanced English Literature class, seeing as you handed in all your papers late and received nothing but criticism from Professor Berger. So you remained blissfully unaware, arriving back on campus in late January with a new attitude and determination to do better this semester. You were unaware as you unpacked your belongings again and heard your phone chime the same sound it does ten times a day. Unaware as you opened up your email to see in big bold letters:

URGENT - MEETING WITH PROFESSOR BERGER TO FINALIZE YOUR GRADE

After freaking out for about an hour on the phone with your best friend, Fletcher, he urged you to go to Professor Bergers office as soon as possible to get this resolved. So you made your way over to his office on campus, your hands shaking and heartbeat fast as you waited outside his office for him to be finished with whatever student he had decided to torment first. You were almost positive you were having a heart attack and you watched as your vision got blurry until-

“Ms. Y/L/N?” He announced in a loud yet firm voice, his eyes catching your frantic ones. “Are you ready to come in?” He asked, pushing the door more open with his body, his arm outstretched motioning you to come in. So you gave him a nervous smile, averted your eyes, and sat on the chair facing his desk. You sat with your clammy hands and rapid heartbeat as he closed his door behind you and made his way to the other side of the desk. As he sat, he began searching through his desk for your file and upon finding it let out a deep sigh and placed it on the desk between you two.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I know you were probably a bit confused as to how and why you got an A in my class last semester after never submitting a paper on time.” He stated, seeming to wait for your response.

“Well, I would never look a gift horse in its mouth if you know what I mean.” You joked, earning not even a hint of a smile. Tough crowd.

He let out another sigh, rolled up his sleeves, and leaned forward on his desk getting as close to you as his desk would allow. “Look, Y/N, I am a firm believer in second chances. I know that the first semester at Yale is most difficult for new students and I know what it’s like to be in your position. I know there are certain requirements for your scholarship and I would like for you to be able to meet them but for the grade I gave you last semester, you will have to earn that.”

At this point you were confused, scared, and developing a wicked headache so you had no idea what to say. You thought he would keep talking but when he didn’t, you took that as your sign to open your mouth.

“I’m sorry Professor, do you want me to retake your class? Because I think that the times that you have class conflict with my current schedule.” You explained, a smile on your face that pleaded ‘please go easy on me’.

“No, I’m not asking you to retake my class. I am asking you to write an in depth paper about a person, a thing, an organization, anything really that you hate or opposes your worldview. And I’m not talking about mild research, I’m talking literally putting yourself in their shoes. Walk around in them, and then write about it. Write from a different perspective. Become someone new. Your writing is good, but it is also juvenile. It’s inexperienced. You only see the world from your point of view, and to be a good writer, you need to change that.”

All you could catch yourself doing was blinking back in surprise. He wanted you to write a research paper for your A? That you could do, and if it was only one paper then you could also do it really well. So you plastered a smile on your face and nodded back at him.

“So how long do you want it to be? And when is it due?” You inferred, hoping you had time to figure out who this paper was going to be about.

“However long it needs to be to let me know how your view has changed and why. You have until the end of this semester.” This time he gave you a smile. Not a kind smile, but a smile that let you know that he was in charge.

“What if my views don’t change?” You questioned.

“If you get to know the thing, the people, the organization, some part of your views will change. Not all of it, but some.”

With limited written up instructions, he sent you off into the night, your head now on the verge of exploding from information overload. On your way home you began to think of ideas, who to write about, who you hated, and how you were possibly going to get to walk in their shoes. With your headphones in you couldn’t hear the loud music on sorority row as you approached, but you did see the lights and people scattered all over the lawn. Bodies on top of bodies, and groups of unbelievably hot rich girls and douchey rich frat boys gathered in circles on porches of houses and you rolled your eyes at the entire concept of greek life.

It appalled you how these people spent money on huge houses, useless parties, and galas while you were struggling to even go to this college. How these people, basically dry humping on the lawn, didn’t have to worry about grades or that classes started tomorrow because they could afford to fail. It made you angry but it also made you insanely jealous. However, as you rolled your eyes at the people having fun and ‘living life’ it occurred to you that they just might be the answer to all your problems.

Fletcher was already outside your dorm room door when you arrived, a chocolate chip cookie in hand. He was the first and only friend you made at school and he was also the reason you made it through the first semester. He was awkward but in a way that made you comfortable to be around him. He was this tall, blonde hair, standard white guy that you would have found attractive if he wasn’t Fletcher. But he was your friend and possibly the best friend you ever had and you in no way wanted to mess that up, the taste of platonic intimacy being all you needed.

“Brought you a cookie.” He stated, smiling and opening his arms up for a hug. You happily obliged since you hadn’t seen your friend in weeks and you were missing human touch. “Just in case you got bad news.” His words getting muffled by your hair.

You pulled back from him and moved to open your door so you both could pile in. “No, not bad news. Just different news.”

He placed the cookie on your desk and sat down on your bed, leaning back and taking off his jacket. “Different news? What does that mean?” He watched as you took your jacket and shoes off and hopped on the bed next to him.

“It means that Professor Berger wants me to write a paper about something that I oppose, but I have to really get to know it.” You told him, your voice low as you rested your head against the wall.

“That makes no sense to me.” Fletcher replied, leaning up on his elbows to get a good look at you. “What are you gonna do?”

“I think I’m going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma.” You stated simply, getting up to grab your cookie and quickly returning to your spot on the bed. Fletcher, however, quickly sat up and sat crossed legged across from you, watching your movements.

“What do you mean you're going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma? Do you want to lose your soul?” He asked rushed as if he was genuinely worried about you joining a sorority.

“It’s not like for real, just something to write my paper about. That’s all.” You took a bite of your cookie as your friend began to look more panicked.

“Y/N, do you know what they do to people who rush sororities? Awful things. People die from hazing, you know. And isn’t the initiation fee like a thousand dollars?” He questioned frantically, making good points, and while you knew that Fletcher was protective of you, you were also sure that rushing greek life wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to you.

“I have money saved up from the cafe that I don’t have anything to spend on. And I can take care of myself, Fletch. I promise I won’t let some sorority girls kill me.” You tried reassuring him, which seemed to work but he still looked a bit spooked.

“Just be careful, Y/N, if you decide to do this.” He pleaded, grabbing your hand. “Please?”

“I will be careful, I promise.”

ROUND ONE

Round one took place that Saturday night, the KKG foyer decorated elegantly with baby pink streamers and a big bright banner that read: Welcome To Your Future. You wanted to laugh at the irony, but didn’t. You were ashamed to admit that you spent over 200 dollars on a dress from Free People that seemed to fit you in the right places. It was silk with a deep V neck and flowy sleeves. It was long and flowy, yet form fitting at your waist. It was comfortable enough to wear with your large leather jacket with fur trimmings that you thrifted a month ago back home. You spent over an hour doing your makeup, trying to play up your best features with your newest purchases from Sephora. You are also not proud to admit that you spent over an hour doing a deep conditioning treatment on your hair so it could look extra healthy for tonight. Needless to say, you were dressed for the part.

To your surprise, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part would be talking like you belonged there. Finding out where rich people buy their groceries, buy their clothes, what gyms they had subscriptions to. The hard part would be the conversation, the forced laughter, and trying to not look absolutely disgusted when taking a bite of caviar. It was making sure your posture was right, making sure you exuded enough confidence for them to want to get to know you. Confidence had never been your strong suit, but you were sure it was something you could muster up for a night or two, or maybe that was your fake confidence talking.

Whatever it was, you were in a room full of girls your age who either looked terrified or absolutely at home and you could tell you were teetering the line between the two. So you made your way across the room to where two tall, clean, and effortlessly beautiful women were standing beside a table full of finger foods and premade cocktails. You didn’t acknowledge them, seeing as you didn’t want to come off as desperate or needy, but they definitely noticed you.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the two girls looked you up and down before turning to each other and whispering. You wanted to yell at them about how whispering is rude but instead you took a glass filled with champagne and a baby pink bow around the stem and took a swig from the cup before turning your attention to the party. You were observing the other girls, with their long flowy dresses and silky hair and wondered to yourself how much you truly looked like them. You were just getting lost in your thoughts when the girls from before approached you.

“Hi, I’m Millie.” The first girl smiled, a hand outstretched for yours. She was the type of beautiful people wrote books about. She had a sculpted face and amber eyes with the highest cheekbones you have seen in your life. She had long honey brown hair that sat nicely on her shoulders and she wore a strapless black dress that would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for her long legs and high heels. “Millie Astor, I’m the president of Kappa Kappa Gamma.” She bragged and offered you a sugary sweet smile as you took her hand and shook before quickly retreating. “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” You smiled so widely that your cheeks hurt. “It’s so beautiful what you’ve done with the place. Truly stunning.” you beamed. You were unsure if this was going to win you points with Millie, but you didn’t want to come off as detached or have her believe you thought you were too good for this sorority.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Condescending, you thought to yourself. “Are you planning on rushing KKG?” She inquired in an insincere way.

“I’m thinking about it, yes. My mom is a legacy at Kappa Alpha Theta so I’m also rushing there.” You replied back to her in the same insincere way. She smiled at you like you said the right thing and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Well, please consider rushing Kappa Kappa Gamma. We would be lucky to have you.” This time she actually sounded sincere.

“I’ll think about it. It was lovely talking to you.”

About 30 minutes had passed and you had already talked to enough people to last you a lifetime, but you needed everyone here to like you. You don’t know why you needed it to be that way, but you assumed that it would be easier to get dirt if you got on good with everyone here. But as the night went on and you began on your fifth champagne flute, you found yourself sitting down next to some girl seated at the kitchen island.

“Hey,” she smiled the first genuine smile of the night, almost seeming shocked that someone was sitting down next to her.

“Hey.” you smiled back, giving her the best half smile you could muster.

“I’m Hazel.” she told you more awkwardly this time, her confidence draining by your cold demeanor.

“I’m Y/N.” You sighed, keeping your gaze with her and taking another sip from your champagne flute. She had shoulder length black hair and tan skin. Her kind eyes kept creasing everytime she spoke and she was suited in a short gold dress that you were sure cost more than your house. She looked nice, but she also looked nervous.

“Are you anxious?” You asked, glancing at her fingers playing with her thumbs.

“That obvious?” She laughed, the tension draining from her body but you just held her gaze and gave her a real smile. “Yeah, I’m really anxious. I feel like I don’t belong here when getting into this sorority has been a lifelong dream of mine.” That’s a sad dream, you thought.

“What makes you think you don’t belong here? You certainly look the part.” You told her. This was you in your own way trying to be nice.

“I know I have this fancy dress on and my mom is a legacy but I just feel like the people here don’t get me like I thought they would.” She confided in you, her head now resting on the cold tile of the kitchen island, her brown eyes glancing up at you.

“Well, you just have to act the part now. Make them get you. Assimilate or some shit like that.” That sounded more comforting in your head. “Or just drink until everything anyone says becomes funny.” She let out a giggle and lifted her head up to look at you.

“Thank you.” she sighed.

“For what?” you wondered, completely confused.

“For being the first person to make me laugh tonight.” She gave you a large grin that was completely replaced with a look of confusion as you both heard loud noises coming from the entryway. She jumped up off her seat to find out where it was coming from and you quickly followed behind her to find a group of guys entering through the front door. Some of the girls who were already a part of the sorority were hugging and greeting their loud guests while some of them started to move inside and pick off the food table.

There was, however, a brunette among the crowd who had his eyes locked with you. His curls were slicked back making his hair look almost wet. He was wearing a baby blue button down shirt and pants that were way too fitting as he stood across the room with his eyes fixed on you. He then offered you a smile and a tiny wave before you averted your gaze and turned towards Hazel, a weird look on your face.

“It’s Alpha Delta Phi, the brother sorority.” Hazel notified you trying to answer the question you had asked in your head.

“Oh, I know that, I just want to know who that guy is. The one who is staring at me.” You glanced over at him quickly so Hazel could know who you were talking about.

“Babe, he’s not staring, he’s checking you out.” She giggled as you could feel the heat rush to your face.

“I don’t care what he’s doing, I want to know who he is.” You snapped at her, but in a friendly way. In a way that made her giggle and put her hand over her mouth.

“That’s Tom, he’s like modern day royalty I swear. He’s loaded.” She informed you causing you to literally roll your eyes.

“What, you don’t like hot rich men?” She giggled again, linking arms with you and dragging you to the food table with her.

“I’m just tired of douchebags, I think.” You popped a grape in your mouth before browsing the rest of the food on the table.

“Oh, he’s not a douchebag. I heard he’s very nice which is why almost everyone here wants to date him. A guy with money who is nice? Unheard of.” She also grabbed a grape and popped that in her mouth before grabbing an appetizer that resembled a wonton and began eating it.

“I wish he would be nice enough to stop staring at me.” You mumbled, glancing over to where the brunette was deep in conversation with another much taller guy. He would occasionally glance over at you, smirk when he caught your eye, and then give his attention back to his friend.

“Are you not into guys?” Hazel asked, throwing you out of your trance as you shook your head in confusion as to why she was asking you that.

“No, I am. Why do you ask that?” You eyed her, obviously intimidating her.

“It’s just that here you have this hot, rich, and apparently nice guy. I just don’t understand how you could not want him to stare at you?” She was making good points, but that didn’t take away from the fact that you were here for one thing only and you didn’t need any distractions.

“I’m just not into dating at the moment. It’s not for me.” This was partially true. To say you had commitment issues would be the understatement of the century. Ever since you watched your parents' marriage fall apart right in front of you, everything having to do with love quickly turned sour. The idea of even settling down caused your stomach to flip upside down and you didn’t think that some rich boy with nice hair could change that. Especially if he was JUST some frat guy.

Later that night you found yourself walking home alone. You didn’t want to waste money on an uber seeing as you needed to save as much money as possible to not only pay your initiation fee, but to also keep up the charade. You also didn’t feel like taking public transportation this late at night so you decided to do what you always do: pretend you are on the phone and walk as fast as your heels would allow you.

It would’ve been a nice night to walk home if it wasn’t so cold and your feet weren’t killing you from standing in your heels all night. There were fairy lights that were strung across each house and the streets were relatively empty. You could hear music coming from various houses on sorority row and see silhouettes of people dancing through the windows. Needless to say, you felt very safe walking home.

You were feeling safe until a black sports car started tailing you. You could hear how fast it was driving prior, but was met with silence when it started going much slower right behind you. You wanted to run into a house, scream, or call for help but you were frozen and just hoped whoever was in that car would leave you alone. You held your breath as the car pulled up to you and maintained its pace with yours as you walked. The window rolled down to reveal the brunette from earlier, the one who was staring you down.

You stopped in your tracks to glare at him. He had that same stupid smirk from earlier on his face and you could tell that he expected it to make you swoon, but it didn’t.

“What? Are you stalking me?” You asked harshly, your night officially being too long.

“No, not stalking you.” He gave you a wide grin. “I promise.” He made a crossing motion over his heart and you had to admit that it was kind of endearing. You, however, chose not to respond, raising your eyebrow and urging him to speak.

“I saw you walking and wanted to see if you needed a ride home.” He offered. “I’m Tom, by the way.” He was cute in a boyish way. His dimples made his eyes wrinkle around the edges and his teeth were straight and white. He looked well put together, like he looked after himself or had someone to do that for him. He looked calm and safe, but don’t most serial killers look calm and safe these days?

“Well, Tom, I’m not supposed to get in cars with strangers.” You teased. “What if you kidnap me?” This earned a hearty laugh from him, his head shaking as he tried to hide his blush.

“I won’t kidnap you, but if it makes you feel safe I could roll the windows down, keep the door unlocked, and drive really slow.” You could tell he was being nice and sincere but you still took caution upon entering his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice and you had to be careful to not let on that you weren’t one of the sorority girls he was used to.

Not to your knowledge, but at the same time you were getting into Tom’s car Millie was walking down the block with the pack of cigarettes that she had previously hidden under the floorboards in her hand. She wouldn’t have recognized you as the girl getting in Tom’s car if it wasn’t for the dress you wore that made you stand out among the crowd. She couldn’t help but smile to herself watching the car drive off with you inside it.

After you told him which dorm you lived in, he kept his promise and drove excruciatingly slow, but you just assumed he wanted to spend more time with you. He didn’t play music and kept glancing over at you to make sure you were okay and comfortable, smiling to himself about how you were playing with your hands and was visibly nervous.

“Why were you walking back home anyway?” He broke the silence, only glancing over at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. You had to come up with a lie and you had to come up with one quickly.

“I just think walking is better for my health, so I don’t have a car.” It was a blatant lie but you thought it sounded shallow enough for him to believe you. “But it was really cold tonight so I’m glad you picked me up, I just canceled my Uber.” He just hummed in response, his long fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

“So you’re rushing KKG?” he wondered, this time not looking over at you at all.

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun. Everyone seems so nice.” He let out a loud laugh that actually caused you to jump out of your seat.

“Nice isn’t the first word I would use to describe Kappa girls but I can tell you’re nice enough to try to compliment them.” He told you after he caught his breath.

“Yeah, I mean, I felt like I was definitely being judged but nobody threw me down and started punching me so I assumed they were nice enough.” This time you glanced over at him. You could see the little freckles on this side of his face and the texture on his skin. The tip of his nose turned upwards as he spoke and his lips wer- Ok, no, you were not going to do this.

“That’s your standard for niceness? Someone not throwing you down and punching you?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Yeah, I think so.” You replied back, watching your dorm room appear in the distance.

“Do you think I’m nice then?” he asked his voice now low and subtly flirty, looking over at you again.

“Hm, maybe. I’d have to get to know you, I think.” You whispered back, smiling as his cheeks changed shades. What the fuck were you doing.

“Well, I’ll show you just how nice I can be.”

That Sunday morning you decided to sleep in, but were rudely awakened by a notification from your phone.

DEAR Y/N Y/L, YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO ROUND TWO AT KAPPA KAPPA GAMMA

LOVE, MILLIE

a/n: i am ashamed to say this took me two days to write not including my outline... but i actually love this plotline and i think it will be a fun challenge to write but i have a lot of scenes mapped out and character boards which i think i will like just make igs for them as a concept andddd yea ok i hope you like... I APPRECIATE ANY AND ALL FEEDBACK MWAH!

taglist and mutuals: @sxfik @olsensnpm @userholland @gwenscindys @spideyspeaches @cocoamoonmalfoy @venomsilk @spvilers @petereading @honeyspidey @spideyobsessed @vendettaparker @erule @4ppurrr @vxid42 @wildholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lovebyceleste @mayal0pez @ariianelle @keanureevesisbae @ghiblijoons @peterparkoure @starstruckspring @willie-ivy @spideyy @seaveysinn @simplyparker @silkscream @silkholland

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you-are-forever-special · 8 months

Text

I Am Your Mother's Keeper

\\×AU where our goofball boys make a new... "friend," and Taiga's life is caught up in another whirlwind.×

If you don't know who my OC Taiga is, this is her original story: https://www.tumblr.com/you-are-forever-special/723792412034662400/tenacious-me?source=share

But I wanted to put her in the Metalocalypse universe, and some of my great friends encouraged + inspired me to get here today.

So here we go!//

TW: Cussing, Alcoholism, Implied drug abuse + self-harm, Animal death, Mentions of blood/injuries, Spiritualism + Related ritual

(It's not in great detail, or graphic, but still!

This story gets kinda silly, then action-packed, and suddenly really intense and emotional. But I tried to end it on a more hopeful note.

I hope you enjoy! This was so much fun to make!

I'm open to constructive criticism, and any other comments, as always! And I tried my best to catch any errors, but if you spot any yourself, please let me know and I'll fix it!

Thank you very much~!)

-Took about 12hr40min to write out-

~~~~~

It all started with a plan to begin their infamous drinking bender.

But the guys in Dethklok were especially going to up the ante this time.

Mostly because...

They were bored out of their fucking minds.

They've played shows in Minnesota before, but each time, they wanted-

No, NEEDED to spice things up, and at least not be sober for their time spent here.

Besides, it's not like it affected their success much, right?

Everything always turned out fine.

And it continued to go that way...

Until they got stranded.

They just wanted to stop at a nearby gas station for a bit, and ended up accidentally being left behind.

And the boys forgot their Dethphones on the Dethbus they were on, and now they were freaking out because they were most likely going to DethDIE(Hamburger Time) out here with no supplies.

All they had with them were their current drinks that varied in levels of completion.

The boys tried to internally calm themselves down.

They each had a drink in their hand. That was something.

And Nathan assumed that any kind of drink they consumed meant that they were being hydrated, so it was ok for now.

Everyone else agreed, or at least in Skwisgaar and Pickles' case, didn't bother to argue with it.

Still pretty inebriated, the thought of going back into the gas station for shelter, and a phone, etc, to use... Didn't even occur to them.

And they figured that ultimately, the woods that they spotted nearby would be their best bet, because there was probably a shortcut to make it back to their bus.

None of these men were scared.

And if they were...

Fuck you, they weren't going to admit that.

...

Thankfully it wasn't cold outside.

And even if it was,

"Hey, at least we have booze, amirite?" Pickles pointedly swished the liquid around in his bottle as he was the first one to break the silence that fell upon them and say what they were all thinking as they trekked deeper into these woods.

He smirked before taking another swig from it; seemingly without a care in the world.

And amongst each other, they all agreed that alcohol + the cold totally cancels out the chances of getting frostbite.

Pickles then recalled what Nathan said earlier while they were still traveling on the road to get here.

About how they'd all get "so damn sloppy, that we'll have to make a new word in the dictionary just for this moment in history."

And he even made a note to himself after that statement to ask Charles how to get something put into the dictionary in the first place.

As usual though, Pickles got a head start on their little "party;" being much more than just drunk before they had even planned to have this so-called "Ultra Doubly-Brutal Bender Extreme," as Nathan had ultimately previously put it.

He seemed pretty proud of himself for that name. So, he just let Nathan have that one.

It could be called the "Party of the Piss Platoon" for all he cared...

He was obviously down for it either way.

But Pickles being Pickles was handling it supremely well, and just going with the flow as they walked; Along with starting to wonder who out there in this world even made dictionaries and chose what got put into them anyway.

Regardless, it'd sure take a lot more than this to get him to the point of sloppy Nathan talked about.

Toki, on the other hand, was currently trying to just win his battle with "stupids gravi-tees."

He was winning so far.

However, it was getting pretty dark, and much harder to see anything.

Toki felt that pit of uneasiness blossoming forth in his chest and rising, but he just tried to keep an eye on his bandmates.

Tried is the keyword here.

Because for now, he could only look up enough to spot the silhouettes of their heads, or legs, depending on how he was able to hold up the upper half of his body as time passed.

His worries subsided a bit since they stayed close by as he stumbled along behind them.

Toki's vision was swimming, but he was grateful that he didn't feel like he had to puke anymore.

As the other members chatted, Toki didn't make out a word since he was too busy grumbling mostly to himself about how he already emptied his new bottle; even swinging it upside down and shaking it like that would magically make more of the feel-happy juice flow out.

Toki sighed, but then he immediately was distracted as a different feeling rose within him.

He suddenly called out to the boys.

"Ah, waits, guys!!"

They all froze and turned to face him quickly, because he basically screamed that out.

Most of them seemed annoyed at the jolting disturbance, besides Pickles who was inquisitive, but overall was just vibin'.

Nathan seemed the most irritated by the sudden piercing pitch that Toki's voice could sometimes reach.

He may be used to loud noises in his profession, but certain ones like that just hit a nerve within him.

At least it wasn't as bad as certain fangirls' who have basically screamed right in his ear before.

And not in the ways that he'd prefer.

Still, Nathan was patient and just asked:

"...Why are you screaming...?"

Toki just swayed a bit and slowly blinked as he stared at them, before he remembered why he got their attention in the first place.

"OH.

I's gots to go pee!"

...

"Oka-?"

"Yous all waits for me here! 'Kay bye!"

And before they could even attempt to refuse, Toki went off past some nearby bushes and trees, humming to himself.

Murderface spoke up after he left, saying:

"Their'sch schomething scheriously wrong with him. I schwear."

Nathan just grumbled and debated continuing to walk ahead, but the softer side of him relented and decided to wait for Toki after all.

"Don't want him to somehow fall and, you know... Ugh... Something..."

Nathan half-heartedly sent his shoddy reasoning into the air before he shut himself and his feelings up with more beer.

Skwisgaar was the most antsy looking one out of them all; holding onto his bottle like it was his lifeline.

He didn't have his guitar, and needed to hold onto something before he snapped himself.

He couldn't even bring himself to make a snide remark this entire time despite his anger, but he did dramatically let out a heavy sigh; making it clear how much he didn't want to be here anymore.

Skwisgaar mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Why did this have to happen?

It was so annoying having to deal with things like this all the time.

Some "bender" this was turning out to be.

He didn't realize how much he was truly exaggerating, or how hypocritical he could be.

He would usually tease others for complaining whatsoever. Toki overall. But if even one little thing didn't go his way, Skwisgaar was the one who would technically have the biggest reaction out of them all.

His pouting was unmatched. Especially once he could no longer keep it bottled up.

Sometimes he'd snap and yell, but for now, he tried his best to not hit anyone over the head with his-

OH RIGHT. HE DIDN'T HAVE IT.

Maybe his bottle would be good enough.

Skwisgaar could feel his eye barely twitch and he started weighing his options once Murderface yelled out to Toki about hurrying up, even though he was probably too far to hear, which made Nathan internally groan. Speaking of annoying sounds...

They might end up killing each other before actually partying at all.

Before Nathan decided to say something harsh that would require many types of guitar riffs, Pickles tsked first and sat down on the ground for now; resting an arm over his one bent knee.

"Ehh!

Calm dahwn, dood."

"Oh schorry!! I'm scho schorry for schpeaking and wanting to get out of here, Picklesch!"

Pickles deadpanned and just sipped at his drink, seeing where this was going by Murderface's expression and miffed tone.

"Maybe I schould just go off on my own and get eaten by a bear or schomething!

I betcha'd like that, huh!?"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD-!!!"

Nathan interrupted by shouting in frustration.

Toki finished up his business eventually and somehow didn't leave a stain all over his pants, or hurt himself, despite his clumsy movements.

He internally cheered for that and instinctively picked up his bottle, even though it was empty; almost toppling over as he bent down.

But he caught himself.

As he stood back up, he perked up more at the sound of...

Squeaking?

No...

Mewling?

As soon as that clicked in his head, Toki dropped his bottle and immediately started searching in excitement for where the noises were coming from.

He didn't care or even think about the scrapes he got as he looked around; eventually stumbling upon a den after getting by some bigger branches.

Toki's pupils dilated even more as he saw a baby kitty.

It was a pretty big kitty, but a kitty nonetheless.

It wasn't long before they were in his arms, being cradled and gently rocked like you would a human child.

He cooed down at them, and despite his drunken state, he was extremely careful with the baby.

"Oh you poors things. Alls alones down here.

Don'ts worries!

I'll takes care of you!"

Toki started telling the kitty every thing that they would do together once they got back to Mordhaus as he got back out of the den.

"I can'ts wait to shows you to my friends!"

Toki was heading back, but then he froze and his eyes widened when he heard a scary growl behind him.

He slowly turned around...

And his eyes widened as he saw a cougar.

He didn't know the English word for this animal, but he wasn't stupid.

All he did know right now was that this kind of "kitty" meant danger.

And one swipe from their claws could mean Hamburger Time for good.

That sight alone basically sobered the man up.

He became even paler than usual and started to back up a bit.

"N-Nice cat..."

Toki muttered, letting out a soft, nervous laugh.

But as the cougar got down even lower like it was going to pounce, Toki's eyes darted around and he thought quick on his feet, suddenly throwing the bottle he spotted that he left behind earlier.

It hit the cougar on their side, even though he was aiming for their head.

But he didn't stop to think any longer on it as he turned back around and booked it; screaming loudly as he ran.

He didn't even register it as he ran past the rest of Dethklok.

Toki just continued to scream and hold the baby cougar close to his chest; leaving them in the dust.

---Meanwhile---

Taiga was strolling around the woods she lived in, going through her usual rounds of checking the area to make sure everything was safe and secure.

It honestly never got boring to her...

And it was pretty much her duty, after all.

But she'd happily do this even if she ever moved for some reason.

It was all such an honor to be able to do this.

For herself, and for others.

And so far, everything seemed to be peaceful, as per usual.

Taiga smiled and took in a breath of fresh air as she walked.

She looked around, adjusting her duffel bag and gripping tighter onto her nata.

There was one more area to check before she'd head back towards the babbling brook where her cottage was by.

A soft melody flowed from Taiga's lips as she went around.

All was well until she heard what sounded like terrified screaming.

And she immediately tensed up, but kept her composure as she stopped humming and quickly made her way towards the screaming.

Hopefully whoever it was was ok-

"Oof!" "Agh!"

...

Next thing Taiga knew, the wind was almost knocked out of her as Toki barreled into her like a linebacker; knocking her over and onto the ground.

"Ugh...!"

Toki fell over too, but he quickly flipped onto his back and rolled a bit as he did; trying hard to not injure the little cub.

Thankfully they were fine, but in his still adrenaline-fueled mind, it took him a second to realize that he hit someone.

His shocked state amplified as he looked up and took in this stranger's features. His wide eyes blinked a few times.

Was he hallucinating again?

...No, they were still there.

Maybe he just went insane.

Unless, that was just a costume, or-

Toki got lost in thought and was dazed as he blatantly stared.

Taiga held her head in a hand and carefully got up.

She was fine, and didn't land on her nata at least...

So that was good.

She put all that aside for now and looked over at Toki, seeing his expression.

"A-Are you alright??"

Taiga asked, but Toki was silent.

She tilted her head as she waited to see if this man would answer.

As she glanced over his features though, something about him looked familiar...

And...

Oh god. Did he have a cougar cub in his arms!?

---

Back with the rest of Dethklok, they all had stopped arguing as they heard Toki's scream getting closer moments before, and were extremely confused as they watched Toki go off into the distance without halting, or falling.

Their looks of confusion changed to more tense ones, and Pickles got back up on his feet, his guard now raised like the rest of the guys.

They were expecting something, but not THAT.

The mama cougar roared and quickly shot out of the bushes not long after Toki did.

"OH SCHIT."

The guys scrambled, collectively throwing their bottles/cans at the animal, but that didn't do much to deter it.

Pickles and Skwisgaar yelled and decided to run too, off in the same direction as Toki did.

Murderface was about to run as well before he saw the cougar decided to try and jump on Nathan first since he was the closest.

"NO!!"

He dove in front of Nathan as a first response, and was successfully taken down.

They flew over a bit and rolled past the surprised, raven-haired man.

The cougar got a couple good, deep scratches on Murderface's back, but thankfully Murderface kicked and squirmed enough before the animal chose a time and spot to hold him in a tight grip and bite down into the meat of his shoulder, instead of getting his neck.

It still hurt like a bitch, though.

As Murderface screamed, Nathan grunted as he kicked off the animal quite aways off; stunning it temporarily as he grabbed Murderface, pulling him back up so they could run off.

He tried to ignore the pain as he ran, and Nathan just tried to focus on getting somewhere safe as they went.

---

Before Taiga could continue her thought, she heard more yelling and turned her head towards it.

She quickly got back up, trying to keep her resolve despite her own fears; holding her nata at the ready.

She came to find that her suspicions on who Toki might be were correct after all as she saw Pickles and Skwisgaar running over. Were they all here?

The pair saw Toki on his knees on the ground and...

Whoever-the-fuck not too far away with a big-ass sword or something.

The two stopped running for now and were hunched over some, panting, as they looked at each other like:

'What the hell is going on???'

They didn't ask questions right now, and heard the sound of other footsteps approaching and heavy panting; Murderface and Nathan coming from the treeline with differing levels of intense panic on their faces.

Since Taiga realized what was going on, she got a firm voice and spoke up loud enough for them all to hear; directing them to follow her once they were all looking her way.

It was obvious they all were confused and questioning the obvious despite their fear, but that would have to wait.

"Come on, this way! We'll be safe! Just don't. stop. running!"

She said with urgency as she heard the mama cougar's roar getting closer.

No one argued as they followed close behind. Except Toki was still frozen in shock. Nathan had to act fast and take the kitten out of Toki's arms and used his other arm to hoist him up; draping him over onto his shoulder.

Toki didn't struggle, but Nathan thought:

'How many times will I have to do this?'

Taiga instantly felt more relieved once her cottage came into view, but didn't get ahead of herself.

She quickly got the door open with her key and let the guys go in first.

Afterwards, she entered as well, slamming the door shut behind them all and locking it.

She knew that the cougar would most likely hang around, trying to get her baby back. But she would worry about all that later.

Eventually the growling died down when they got closer, but she could see them stalking around the cottage still, as she figured.

Taiga sighed heavily; happy she didn't have to hurt, or kill any creature today.

They were lucky to have even gotten that head start on outrunning the pissed off animal.

But now...

The world famous Dethklok was currently in her cottage.

She was too frazzled to even think about the ridiculous of all this, and more importantly, she took note of how badly Murderface was bleeding.

Taiga set down her stuff then got moving and went to grab her first-aid kit.

Nathan sat Toki down onto the nearby couch and saw how he was mostly just staring into space for now, so he just left him alone.

Pickles was the first to speak up again inbetween huffs and puffs as he tried to catch his breath like everyone else; his hand over his heart.

"Gahddamn, dat was close...!"

Skwisgaar agreed, before the room fell silent aside from their panting.

They all eventually looked over at Taiga and took in her appearance more clearly.

The giant swishing tail was especially what caught their attention.

It looked so real.

Taiga could feel their eyes on her, and she tried to ignore it.

She understood. Truly.

But this was always so uncomfortable.

So, she tried to break the tense atmosphere around them.

"I know what you're thinking...

But just let me get this real quick, and then we can talk."

She set down the first-aid kit on the table in front of where Murderface stood, near her dining area.

"Here...

Not assuming you need my help, but this offer's on the table if you want it...

I understand that I'm just some stranger, but I know what I'm doing when it comes to patching up wounds.

That looks pretty bad, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

Her tone was soft and sympathetic, but she wasn't lying...

From what she could tell, if he stopped the bleeding and cleaned it up well, he could get it stitched and heal up just fine.

Murderface knew he had gotten injured pretty badly, but hey, he didn't feel like he was going to die or anything like when he had that accident on the highway.

When he snapped out of his own stunned state, he defaulted back to his signature frown.

He looked down at the kit and back up at Taiga skeptically, but eventually decided to take the kit and tried fixing himself up.

Wounds from his own knife that he would treat back at Mordhaus could get pretty deep, so maybe this wouldn't be much different.

He avoided any further eye contact.

Taiga could see his attitude towards her, but still understood and didn't push it.

She stepped back and looked over at everyone else as they stared some more.

"...Is everybody else ok?"

They looked between each other, seeming fine, before looking down at Toki.

Now that he was in a safer environment, by a cozy fireplace, he had a bit of time for his anxieties to lower some and feel more grounded again.

He blinked and saw he was instinctively just petting the kitten repeatedly.

Toki smile some at seeing their content, sleepy face as they squeaked a bit.

"...You ams okays..."

He sounded more surprised, yet relieved; closing his eyes and hugging them close, so gently, like they could break at any given moment.

Taiga took that as a relative yes and nodded, mostly to herself.

"Good. I'm glad I came across you all in time. Cougars are pretty rare around here...

Only a few sightings have ever been documented before apparently, but..."

She watched as Toki cooed more at the kitten.

She understood completely why the mother chased them.

But she wouldn't scold them. They already went through enough.

"...yeah.

Either way, it's a good thing we're all safe now. But we might have to wait here a while. If you need anything, just let me know."

Taiga offered and was met with more stares.

She sighed a bit.

"Yes, I know I must look different-"

Murderface suddenly spoke up again, making good progress on the wound he could see. It was almost impressive how well he could handle the pain.

"Moscht furriesch do."

Taiga paused and blinked, then looked floored.

"What the- I- Ah- No, I'm not a furry!" Taiga stumbled over her words a little from how baffled she was at what she just heard.

He shrugged.

"Whatever you wanna call it-"

"I'm SERIOUS, look at me!"

Taiga suddenly yanked a bit on her tail enough to prove a point, along with doing the same, but a bit softer, to her sensitive ears.

"This is just how I am!"

"...Yeah, ookay."

Taiga facepalmed and gave up, realizing she wasn't getting anywhere with this.

She didn't need their validation, but she's never been accused of this before.

She had heard the term in the past, but didn't really consider herself one after learning what it meant.

At least, she thought so???

One of her ears then instinctively flicked over at the sound of a tape recorder click, along with Nathan saying a song title that he thought up just now from witnessing this:

"Feral Contusion"

Taiga looked up in confusion at the man's now more softened features as he seemed pretty pleased with what he just did, but she didn't question it as she sighed and looked down; closing her eyes for a second.

Pickles seemed intrigued once he got past his own initial shock.

"...Okay well, either way, ya gotta admit, dat's pretty cool."

He grinned a bit and glanced at the guys, gauging their reactions.

"I used to think it would be awesome as hell if I had a tail."

"Oh! Or wings!"

Toki suddenly spoke up, looking significantly more excited after all of that.

"Or horse legs."

Most of them paused and looked at the blonde. Besides Toki, who didn't seem perturbed at all as he kept playing with the kitten.

"...What?"

Nathan spoke.

"What!?"

Skwisgaar quickly said, somewhat defensively, and turned away slightly as he crossed his arms.

Back to his deep frown.

He regretted throwing that bottle now, as he tapped his fingers on his arm.

Taiga was so surprised as they all seemed to be less and less concerned about her appearance.

The last time anyone reacted so relatively positively to finding out the truth, was Luci.

Taiga's eyes glazed over a bit as she remembered her best friend's visage again.

It felt bittersweet.

But she took a quick breath and refocused as Toki suddenly asked what her name was.

She didn't even notice he was staring at her this time, but it wasn't from awkwardness, more from awe.

Like he couldn't believe she was real.

"I go by Taiga."

She smiled a tiny bit as her nickname was complimented and called pretty by him, but Murderface snorted and not so softly said behind her:

"Of coursche."

Taiga deadpanned, but pretended she didn't hear that.

Pickles chuckled as he got a big smirk on his face and slyly said:

"Like you have room ta talk, Murderface~"

Murderface was almost done fixing himself up already, but almost botched it as he stood up from the chair he sat in, knocking it over with how fast he moved.

"OH ALRIGHT, PICKLESCH!"

He didn't seem phased and glanced away, snickering at how easily he could make Murderface angry.

Taiga couldn't help but smile a bit more as she rolled her eyes at their antics; seeing Pickles lazily poke his tongue out the side of his mouth.

She didn't want to be weird about it, but still made herself ask once the noise died down, even though she knew the answer.

"And... You're Dethklok, right?"

They each perked up again for once at being recognized, but then nodded/confirmed as such verbally for her as they realized it's truly not that surprising with how big they were.

All types listened to them.

Nathan put his focus back on Taiga; his intense look piercing through her, but she didn't cower at all.

Just looked right back at him.

She realized he was just trying to remember something when he asked if she was at their show.

Taiga almost laughed.

She would have been hard to miss if she did.

"No, but it would be fun to get to go see you guys one day."

Skwisgaar looked slightly surprised and raised a brow as he looked back over at her.

"You've never beens tos a concerts?"

"Just not your guys' before."

Taiga dramatically put her hand up to her head and pretended to be distraught.

"I'm too poor."

But then she stopped and laughed.

"Maybe one day, though!"

Nathan was relieved that Taiga didn't start trying to guilt trip them into giving her a free ticket or something. As soon as he heard it, he was starting to tense up before he realized.

Because even if she technically saved them, they didn't owe her anything.

Toki quickly spoke up again, however;

"Wowee. Maybes we cans gives you a ticket!"

Nathan wanted to tell him to shut up, but he didn't have to, because Taiga waved her hand in disagreement.

"No thank you.

That's very generous of you, but I'd rather actually pay for my ticket like everyone else. Besides, I'd feel bad having you guys do that."

She held one of her arms and giggled a bit as she awkwardly looked to the side; some of her hair covering her face.

She still wasn't used to it whenever so much attention was on her, and sometimes, she just needed a break.

But she wasn't really uncomfortable right now, thankfully.

Especially since most of the tension in the room seemed to be gone by this point.

Which made Taiga relieved.

Toki shrugged, but didn't look offended before he then carefully held up the kitten in his hands; looking underneath them before he moved his focus back up to their face, happily saying to no one in particular, that he was going to call them Aksel.

Taiga liked the name.

Understanding that it either meant "Father of peace," or "Mighty God," after wracking her brain for her knowledge of the Norwegian language.

Although, she didn't want to burst his bubble by telling him that he'd eventually have to give the baby back...

Especially since he seemed to start to feel much better.

So for now, she just stayed quiet.

Her eyes softened, and she couldn't help but feel bad for the man.

He probably just wanted a pet but didn't know what he truly got himself into.

Taiga then saw that Murderface was pretty much finished with his self patch job.

At least, for now.

He knew that he would need help later on with his back, but he really wasn't comfortable with taking his shirt off right now and letting someone do that to him.

She didn't question him and put the first-aid kit away when she saw he was for sure done with it.

He soon kept staring at Taiga's nata that was propped up against the floor.

He went over and picked it up to examine it; his love of weapons, especially the more stabby ones, getting the better of him.

When Taiga noticed, she immediately tensed up and wanted to snatch it out of Murderface's grip on instinct, but she resisted that urge and just stayed off by his side as he looked at it with a mischievous grin.

"...You like it?"

She asked, glancing anxiously between him and her beloved nata.

It couldn't be replaced.

Especially not Luci's ribbon tied to it...

So she didn't want anything to happen to it.

"Yeah. Could I have it?"

Taiga's breath hitched for a second.

"Eh-

No. Sorry.

But, I know where you can get one."

"Aw, c'mon!

I'll give you a hundred bucksch for it right now!"

Murderface had an expression like he had this in the bag, until Taiga immediately said no again.

He frowned and kept raising the price.

Until Taiga got tired of saying no and sighed, pinching her brow.

"It's not... for sale.

You can look at it, but just please, be careful."

Murderface grumbled and mocked her a bit, but surprisingly listened, looking very intrigued with the design of her nata, along with its finish.

Taiga lowered her arm and was about to get something to eat, but then she stopped when she heard what sounded like...

Helicopter blades?

Oh wow, those were getting loud, and extremely close.

Her eyes widened and she looked out one of her windows.

One of the most daunting and intricate looking helicopters she had ever seen was currently making a landing in the clearing, but was too big for the surrounding trees, effectively knocking them down.

Taiga fumed; she still owned this land after all, but tried to keep her cool.

At least it didn't damage her cottage, she thought, trying to be positive.

As soon as the guys heard and saw their Dethkopter, most of them immediately went to bum rush the door; Murderface even forgetting about the nata for now right after he put it back, and Taiga was about to shout after them to remind them of how the cougar was probably still biding its time, hiding out there despite the noise...

Before her ears picked up gunshots.

Taiga felt dread flowing through her core and she chanced looking back out the window.

She quickly looked away again, letting the guys leave her cottage.

She knew it was self-defense in that moment, as the hooded men shot the cougar, but she couldn't help but feel terrible...

All she wanted to do was protect her baby.

No one else seemed to care.

Like they were used to this.

But Taiga knew that this was a pretty fucked up world they all were in...

People even got killed on damn game shows these days.

Though...

That still didn't mean she had to just roll over and accept it like most everyone else.

But... Now what?

How could she even try to make this better?

They cheered and Skwisgaar mumbled out something along the lines of:

"Finallys."

And Nathan spoke up as they each started to leave,

"Fuck yes! Where were you, Charles!? We could have STARVED."

"It's been, ah, less than an hour."

He wasn't too worried anyways since he had trackers on the boys, but it took longer than anticipated, and he knew that anything could happen in any given amount of time.

---

Earlier when Charles was first informed about what happened to the boys, a sudden Supercell thunderstorm of seismic proportions had come out of nowhere, and wasn't spotted as they were making their flight, despite the weather radar they had installed.

The winds from the violent tornadoes it had caused, along with the severity of the lightning and size of the hail that came with it, was strong enough to even throw the Dethkopter repeatedly off course.

It was one of the worst, and most unnatural looking that Charles had ever seen.

In other circumstances, he may have even thought it to be beautiful...

He knew it wasn't impossible, but from the cyclone, the form of dark blues that flashed from within quickly morphed into a harmonious tertiary mix of purples and reds; a gut feeling tearing through Charles, telling him that this storm, like all the others he had seen happen before, was no mere coincidence.

And it had sent him further into his own level of frantic searching.

Yet he kept his cool. As he always did.

He had to. Especially in the position he held.

It was a difficult fight with mother nature, and some Klokateers were blown out of the aircraft, but he had to stay focused so the entire flight crew would not end up the same way.

But thankfully this battle seemed to end with a truce.

With the assistance of their complete avionics system, along with the Klokateers who were each trained and handpicked as the best of the best for these jobs, were able to make it back on the ground to their destination.

Although, Charles made a mental note to see to it that Dethklok's driver that accidentally stranded them would be replaced immediately.

And effectively "fired" after this fiasco.

But he'd worry about the messy details later.

---

The guys talked a bit louder as they left, to compensate for the loud noises from the Dethkopter.

Taiga didn't hear the bandmates animatedly trying to tell Charles every little thing that happened to them as he saw Murderface's injuries and urgently tried to have him looked at, but he wouldn't budge and said not to worry about that right now because he wanted to finish what he had to say too.

Funny though, because any other time, he'd be annoyed, because usually no one would pay his injuries attention at all.

But Charles just relented and "listened" to them as they talked over each other for the most part, and they had to keep starting over.

Even though he looked emotionless right now, you could see the exasperation in his eyes if you looked hard enough.

But eventually Charles started getting the gist of it throughout the rambling; beginning to fully understand more and take it all in after deciphering their...

Well, basically word spaghetti.

He got used to having to do that.

At first he thought they were all extremely high once again, but then he spotted Taiga through one of the cottage's windows himself.

He didn't physically react much, but it definitely gave him pause for a second.

Then again, not much phased him after the certain things he had witnessed before...

---

In the meantime, Toki stayed a bit behind as he stood up with his new kitten.

He still looked so happy and didn't see what happened to the baby's mother.

Or...

He just pretended it didn't happen.

Taiga had her arms crossed and was hugging herself a bit as she tried to calm down from that image that was burned into her memory when she looked out the window.

Guilt started coursing through her veins like the contents of a chilling IV drip...

Could she have saved the poor creature?

She tried not to beat herself up. It's not like she could really do much...

Taiga shut her eyes for a bit, but re-opened them and looked back up as Toki suddenly thanked her. He was the first one to.

She forced a small smile onto her face and nodded.

"Of course. It was nice to help, and meet you all."

Her voice wasn't as light anymore, yet she still tried to be friendly.

But she could start to see the glint of the unsure look bubbling up in the young man's eyes as he stared down at the new life that he was now responsible for.

It was a crushing weight, and the feeling was pretty terrifying each time that he got a new pet.

Would he mess this up as well even more... Without trying?

Toki felt like an idiot for being so impulsive lots of times.

Taiga tried not to hold any resentment towards him for taking the cub.

It sure wouldn't help anything.

Besides...

Everyone made mistakes.

No one was perfect.

She never forgot a lot of her own past regrets, as they continue to haunt her.

And she wouldn't wish that on anybody.

So she decided to at least throw Toki a bone before he got too deep into his head again.

She knew that feeling all too well, and didn't want to stand by and do nothing overall.

Taiga hurriedly found and handed him one of her favorite and most educational conservationist and ecology books.

"Here. This should help you out... I hope that it all works out for you."

You weren't really supposed to have cougars as pets, but she meant that. Hopefully the cub could be taken care of properly.

Besides, she felt like they'd each already be given lectures of some form at some point before the night was over.

She tried to inform Toki on what sources to look out for as well as those to keep in mind, especially if he ever went looking online.

She thankfully was able to save a bunch of animals out here before, and a few in her travels outside the country. And she was grateful for that, but she was only so knowledgeable.

Regardless, Taiga tried her best to explain it the best she could.

And Toki seemed to genuinely be listening.

His eyes lit up the more she went on, and he borrowed a pencil to write some things down in one of the books.

His handwriting was all over the place, but he seemed to understand it, and that's what mattered anyway, so she didn't say anything.

Taiga almost giggled a bit at how enthusiastically he kept saying "Wowee!"

But she held it back.

She got so into delving into this information, that she almost forgot about the terrible parts of today's events.

But then when she turned a bit, her eyes widened and she almost jumped when she noticed Charles standing in the doorway with a briefcase; the shadows cascading over his features making him look almost ominous.

She saw him a bit before in the media, but she knew even less about him than the band. Besides the fact that he was their manager.

Not that it was her business to know more anyway.

Taiga calmed down and sighed as she stared curiously at the man.

Toki was excitedly finishing up writing as he leaned over the table.

His tongue poked out absent-mindedly as he focused on it; licking his lips a bit.

Charles was almost surprised at seeing him that intensely focused, but once he saw the cub he held in his free arm, he held back a sigh.

"Toki...

What do you, ah, have there...?"

He was dreading asking; figuring he already knew the answer since he had gotten pets randomly before.

He knew how much it could mean to him, but despite his warnings, Toki wanted to keep him, and promised to give him the best "habipstaps."

"Hab... itat."

"Hambitets!"

Taiga shook her head a bit as she just smiled a little again. She looked a bit defeated, but didn't judge.

Toki's confident smile was beaming too brightly, so she just let him have this.

"You ams nice ladies!"

He then faced Charles again to reiterate that he promises he would take good care of Aksel.

He gave up this newest battle.

Toki was obviously dead set on this.

There were worse "pets" out there that he could have tried taking home, he supposed.

Then Toki asked if he could ask Taiga for more "cool" tips if he needed them in the future, or if she could even come to Mordhaus at some point to oversee the structure and layout of the habitat since she knew a lot about it.

His tone was very convincing, and he even tried to say he wouldn't have to hire anyone to do it.

She raised a brow for a second, wondering why he didn't just ask her directly since she was, you know... Right there.

And the fact Toki just assumed and insinuated she'd do it.

For free.

But she just let it go.

It was kind of amusing in a certain way how each member of Dethklok held their manager in such high regard, yet also treated him with such disregard at different points in time.

But it probably wasn't like that for him alone.

Either way, she actually wouldn't mind doing all that, to a point.

It would put Taiga's mind at ease being able to check in on Aksel in some form or another, however.

Even if it wasn't her fault, she still felt like she was responsible, no matter how much she knew she wasn't.

...Not that she had no semblance of trust in these people, but...

At the same time, she didn't actually know really them as individuals.

So it was hard to say.

And today was definitely a rocky start, putting it lightly.

But she tried to keep an open mind at the very least.

Charles stared at the girl.

More calculating than anything.

It was usually a liability concern when deal with who each individual who entered Mordhaus, who wasn't either an employee or a part of the band.

But he knew simple fixes to that...

And hey, if this person could actually keep Toki happy without giving him or others any extra problems to deal with (like a certain clown did), even better.

Not that he wouldn't be keeping a close eye.

Just in case.

So he ultimately said that that would be fine.

However, Taiga could tell that this conversation wasn't truly over yet.

Toki smiled even wider, like a kid in a candy store, since he was told that it was alright, and his top lip twitched a little; his mustache swinging a bit with the movement.

Charles did have a sense of exigency though, and reminded Toki that they should probably get going as well, as soon as he saw the chance to.

He agreed as he politely returned the pen.

"Thanks..."

Taiga sighed out a bit as she leaned over some and carefully wrote out her phone number in his book as well.

But she didn't seem frustrated.

More so, worn out.

So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and it was all catching up with her.

She internally hoped to at least get some rest later on, but she doubted that greatly.

Taiga put the pen down after she was done, and Toki beamed as he picked up his books and thanked her once again.

He happily said goodbye, gently moving Aksel's little paw to make it look like he was waving at her, before he quickly bounded away; off in his own little world as his tall figure went over towards the Dethkopter.

Taiga could see him through the window; his mouth quickly moving like he was excitedly talking to the cub before covering their tiny ears as they got closer to the aircraft.

It was pretty adorable, but she still couldn't bring herself to feel very chipper right now.

Charles didn't waste any time though as Taiga faced him once again.

Before he left, he wanted to make some things clear.

Taiga suddenly felt the shift in the air, like she should really watch her words, and actions while with this man especially.

She crossed her arms as he spoke, and she made eye contact with him.

"I must say that you, ah, certainly have our gratitude..."

Taiga figured he was half-heartedly attempting to save face in regards to the band, since most of them didn't really show the gratitude he mentioned, but she shrugged a bit.

"I'm just glad I could make it in time. I hope they'll be alright."

He curtly nodded, but took note of her genuine tone, before pulling out some papers.

Taiga could see this is what he actually wanted to get to as she put her arms back down by her sides. He brought the papers over to the table and neatly placed them out for her; his gloved fingers moving precisely, like he's done this routine a million times before.

She took note that he didn't seem affected in the slightest by her appearance, but that was honestly a relief at this point.

Charles explained that he would also greatly appreciate it if Taiga could fill out and sign an NDA, along with a waiver of liability.

She thought, but then paused for a bit.

She wasn't surprised by either option. Especially from the things she's heard happen around Dethklok as a whole.

And she didn't argue, but brought up something.

"Okay. I'll sign the waiver, but...

Actually, may I offer something that could potentially help us both...?"

Charles had to admit, he was taken aback, but he didn't show it.

Most people didn't even think to challenge his offers, but he was actually interested in what this girl had to say.

A slight sound of acknowledgement came from the back of his throat.

"...Let's hear it."

Taiga explained her situation in this city, and how she had help in keeping it under wraps with NDAs as well from her friends Ali and Cait.

Charles continued to make mental notes as she spoke, and she could tell, but continued on; giving over the information he may need if he wanted to confirm the details with them too.

He didn't think that she was lying, but it was best to cover your bases when legalities were involved.

Taiga figured since there was going to be a contract signed regardless, she may as well just be completely honest, and go out on a limb here for her own sake, as she asked if they could go through with an MNDA specifically.

But she didn't give him a sob story.

Just stated what was most prevalent to the situation.

Besides, she knew that afterwards she'd be looked into more thoroughly anyway.

By either Charles, and/or others.

It was inevitable, but also understandable. Despite how intimidating this all was, she wasn't going to be difficult.

It would be stupid to even try such a thing.

What would she even be able to do, that wouldn't end in disaster?

Especially with the status Dethklok held...

They were legitimately global superpowers.

Not worth it.

Charles understood, and he was glad she actually knew what she was talking about in this regard, and cut to the chase.

Either way, he didn't see how this could really have any negative consequences, so he agreed on it.

Taiga relaxed a bit more at hearing that.

She didn't expect today to end up like this at all...

But if it could end somewhat amicably, with her safety intact, she'd take it.

As Charles set it all up, she wrote down what she needed to and instinctively organized each of the papers before handing them back over to the practically inexpressible man.

He would make sure to keep his end of the deal. If anything, he wasn't the kind of man to go back on his word.

And Taiga didn't know that about him of course, but she felt like she could actually trust this all to not blow up in flames, or worse.

He was critically acclaimed to be preeminent in what he did.

So, she tried not to worry too much about it.

At least for now.

Although, she did have one more prominent issue to bring up before he left.

But she tried to make it quick.

Taiga was confused on how she would even make the commute to and from the citadel itself.

She stated how she would use the money she had been saving up and putting away from her job at the day care Cait ran, but it still most likely wouldn't be enough.

And Taiga's job running the homeless shelter, she didn't get paid for that, and didn't want to.

She loved helping out no matter the circumstances.

She already felt bad enough having Cait pay her at first for something she'd happily do for free, but she insisted.

Charles waved it off, and decided to make a deal with her.

She wouldn't have to pay them any fees, as long as she could make sure not to cause any trouble.

For Dethklok, or him.

Charles said he would have a packet sent to her that would be filled with all of the important guidelines she would have to follow whenever stepping foot onto the property of Mordhaus.

And she wasn't the kind of person that wanted to cause some sort of scandal.

So she especially knew the obvious things to not do.

Again, from a rational standpoint, why would she?

Celebrity or not, there were just some things fans, or others did, that she could never even think of trying.

Also...

The members who made up Dethklok were grown men at the end of the day, and she wouldn't try and play babysitter, or be controlling...

But she heeded the warnings, regardless.

And would try her best to respectfully keep things in check when needed.

Even if something out of her control happened, she would just try to work through and accept it as she paid the price.

Taiga still thought it was extremely fair, and surprisingly generous of him (even if he was mostly being smart and covering his ass) given the circumstances, but she could see that overall, despite his uncaring demeanor or the monkey business that ever took place, he just wanted to keep the guys happy.

At the very least in ways that wouldn't be self detrimental, if he could help it.

So after getting past her stupefaction, she signed off on that agreement as well.

"...Thank you."

Charles glanced briefly over the papers for now before tucking them away once again.

"Yes, well...

Thank you for your time and, ah, cooperation, Ms. Taira."

Taiga nodded as she internally cringed at her real last name being said, but didn't bother saying anything about it.

Charles simply then bid her a good night and farewell; not making any grand gestures, or wasting any more time with further pleasantries as he hastily left her cottage and made his way back to the Dethkopter.

...

Taiga tried to reflect on what all happened today.

Actually, she didn't have to try.

It wouldn't leave her brain.

Especially as she went outside and was left with the mother cougar's body after everyone flew off.

Seeing these kinds of things never got any easier, but she tried to stay strong for what she needed to do next.

Taiga knew that she should take a few moments for herself later on...

It would be healthy.

Not selfish at all, she reminded herself.

And maybe, just maybe, she could successfully get a good rest afterwards.

With no nightmares.

...

But this would continue to itch away at her until she cracked...

She couldn't just leave them out here, anyway.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself.

...

So she got started.

As she finished burying the cougar,

Taiga knew the cycle of life would continue, no matter how she felt.

And she took her gloves off, putting them away as she got lost in thought once again.

The body would decay, feeding other lifeforms, just as others that perish.

But each time, she wanted, no...

Needed to give a proper burial.

And when possible, a ritual for it.

It was always such an intense experience.

Emotional and otherwise while going through each ritual.

But Taiga would do it again and again.

In her eyes, it was deserved.

She didn't believe in "perfect," but tried her best to carry this out in the closest way to it as possible.

Taiga closed her eyes, and tears fell down her face as she inhaled; wishing the cougar farewell, and honoring her.

If her spirit wished to remain in contact, she would gladly accept that and try her best to appease them just as she did for any others that came her way...

Whether they made a connection or not, she wanted to be a safe guide, no matter the duration of the stay.

Taiga made another protective charm, similar to the ones inside and around her cottage, and placed it over the grave.

Despite her inner turmoil about how this turned out, she tried to move forward.

Staying stagnant in this moment wouldn't change much.

She would not ever forget this experience of course, but wanted to do right by this being, no matter the cost.

If that meant watching over the cub, so be it.

Taiga would try and help whenever she was called, even after their final breaths were taken.

So after saying her final goodbyes, she got back up, dusted the dirt off herself a bit, and headed inside her cottage again to get on her new computer; immediately getting started on researching more.

She wanted to go above and beyond trying to expand her knowledge on the care, and overall ways of these creatures themselves; highlighting key DOs and DONTs.

Even if she already knew quite a lot about felines as a whole, it wouldn't hurt to read up on them even more.

Focusing on this helped distract her mind for a while...

Easing any pain that came with thinking too much on the events that transpired, or when they would suddenly flash into her head again.

But she also tried to steel herself and not push herself too hard again; taking some breaks inbetween, and trying to just...

Breathe.

When Taiga was able to open her eyes and look back up again, she let herself feel, but reminded herself of what was the utmost truth...

And the end goal she was striving towards.

Strengthened by her new resolve, she took a few more breaths, and was able to set a timer for herself to stop for tonight before trying to get some sleep afterwards.

And as Taiga finished up her current study session and jotted down her notes in the much more silent, coiling vibrations of the now recessing woods that surrounded her...

She couldn't help but wonder what the future may have in store for her from here on out.

~~~~~

#metalocalypse #OC #AU #Taiga #Mika #Taira #I #Am #Your #Mother's #Keeper

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lwbu · 1 year

Text

Love Will Bury Us

Chapter 6

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

pairing: aemond targaryen x targaryen!oc

summary: Alyssa Targaryen cherished chaos, its presence a comforting reminder that she was alive and breathing. But when dragons danced and fire erupted, her chaos was no longer her own. As the last of control slipped through her fingers, a hand came in its place—cold, possessive and unforgiving, and it belonged to Aemond Targaryen.

content & warnings: f!oc, targcest, so much tension it hurts, slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood and violence, spoilers for hotd, canon character death, morally grey characters, additional tags to be added

word count: 5k

notes: i have covid and thesis to write and midterms to pass and life sucks (but i hope this chapter doesn’t) english is not my first language. all feedback is very appreciated. also on ao3 and wattpad.

The fires have spoken

And the price has been paid

With blood magic

Her ears still pulsated with the tune of the Bronze Fury's roar; song of three-headed dragon not yet swept off from lips, remaining a circling, subdued echo on the tip of her tongue. She still felt the steep, rugged path under the soles of her shoes, the ground beneath continually appearing to shake, though already stable. Her body still trembled from the long gone heat of Vermithor's blistering fire that had nearly come close enough to her skin to melt it. There had been so much warmth, she remembered—almost too much to bear. And then, like a candle, it had been blown out; fallen in a battle with a vicious frostbite. Now, she was no longer hidden in the comforting darkness of the cave; no longer bathing in the scorching innocence of blissful ignorance. Eradicated was the place for humane purity. Because blood had been mercilessly spilled once more, and this time it was too much. Because now, fire was replaced, an in its stead came grim, freezing cold and crimson the shade of pure chaos.

And the red tears taken with rotten barbarity were now pooled at their feet, assembled in a plaintive form of three names:

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

It only took a few short moments of watching Rhaenyra Targaryen's face twist in despair and fury so palpable it burned for Alyssa to wonder how many losses it took to have someone die of a heartbreak. If there were grounds to fall for, to crumble completely, to irrevocably shatter—it had to be this. Minds and sanity had been lost for less; people had collapsed for fewer reasons. And yet Queen Rhaenyra remained stood in one spot, eyes ablaze, tips of her fingers white from the pressure put into her palms. Her tremulous hands, Alyssa noticed, were now covered in blood as well—her nails sank deep enough to scar.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

The third strike was a nail to the coffin; a wildfire breaking out from its confinement within walls; a realm turning into ashes in just one blow. It was a devilish whisper that promised eternal, nauseating violence. It was a starting point to gluttonous bloodshed; a battle for power, justice, revenge. A voracious war of succession that would surely be the ruination for all of them.

Lucerys Targaryen was dead—gone forever, slain and erased from existence so brutally, pressurised into a fight that had had no touch of fairness nor clemency in it. Just a boy, Alyssa thought, a child. Before departing, he had made a promise to his mother, pledged to only travel as a messenger, swore to never strike first. He wouldn't—Alyssa knew this—because he had been good; because his soul had been pure and had carried no wrath that sought bloodshed. He had been good, young, and scared, and this, in turn, led him to demise. He had wanted to make the Queen proud. He had wished to remain determined and strong. Now, all that was left behind was a bittersweet memory of his laughter, kind smile, gentle words; the childhood they had shared, and the love that had gone extinct.

It was so unexpected, people whispered. It was so, so cruel. And yet, frozen somewhere within the clutches of time that had halted, Alyssa could not manifest bewilderment. She still remembered the vile, malicious nature of colour green—the deep-rooted, inherent toxin in their spirit. Was it truly unforeseen, when the slaughter had begun so long ago, crafted with utmost care to only now be openly exhibited?

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

It was the third loss, and still smelled of fire—and spread like it, too. It forced them to their knees with a rough thrust; took away breath and remaining consciousness; ripped hearts out. A blaze of scorching death so thoughtless and uncaring in the way it chose its victims. A spark of hatred between the two parties, fed with long years of taunting interactions and repugnance under the guise of politeness. A flame that would ultimately aspire to burn them all to the ground.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

It was the third loss, and would be the last.

Alyssa was imprisoned somewhere deep within the intense grip of her mind—smoke around so thick her own thoughts were no longer comprehensible—and couldn't see anything beyond the crimson-coloured names. She wanted blood to stain her hands, cover her body from head to toe; to bathe in it so it could no longer be washed off. She wanted it to weave between silver of her hair, to sneak underneath nails, to be claimed as her own. Her rage seemed to have taken over completely, all past restraints fractured and shattered to pieces, invisible manacles coming off, the urge to elicit a scream of torture exceeding any last conscious thought. A volitional act of acceptance—this was all she had left: an obsessive antagonism, a brutal hostility. She banished all waves of pain that sought to assault her chest; locked it and buried the key deep underneath qualms. She wouldn't cry. War offered no space nor time for meaningless tears. Loss warranted no peace that came from grief.

Dragonstone was no longer a castle, a safe haven, a home. Now, when she watched the familiar landscape, the same one she could easily paint with her eyes closed, all she saw was this: a graveyard on fire, weighted down by the golden shimmer of a crown that offered nothing but endless agony. A deserted land; a prison of lost souls that cried for the stripped away hope and venomous ambitions. It would remain this way forever—there was no return to the life she'd once known. The stains of blood, it seemed, had soaked too deep into the walls and gates.

The chamber had gone oddly quiet. She could see her father's hand on the Queen's back, though she doubted Rhaenyra felt it, or heard any of his following words at all. Men of little to no significance that currently occupied the castle with their murmurs of strategy and advice were no longer taken into consideration, their strange faces blurred, names currently forgotten and so, so unimportant. If Jacaerys had already returned, Alyssa was sure he'd now stand leaned over the table, grasping onto its edges to not collapse in front of an audience, spitting promises of revenge and calling upon soldiers he could march with. Perhaps it was for the better, she thought, that he did not yet know. Perhaps, while away from the stench of overwhelming grief, he could breathe with some semblance of ease.

When her eyes fell upon little Joffrey's tear-stained face, all red and wet from crying and hyperventilating, she wished that he, too, had been given a chance to leave this obscure place. Escape it and, if allowed, never return. It was no land for childhood. It would leave him in misery.

And there was Rhaena, her sweet Rhaena, with head hung low and shoulders slumped, as though in an attempt to vanish from the realm. She looked so small, Alyssa noticed, and broken beyond repair. Baela already stood by her side, gentle hands around her twin's neck, chin coming up to rest against Rhaena's forehead. There were no cries nor words exchanged—only a haunting silence. To see her sister like this—hollow, void of the light that had always brightened the vicinity, with rosy traces of life ripped off her cheeks—made Alyssa's blood boil and nails long to tear flesh apart.

They would pay. Whether in blood or life imprisonment, they would pay for what they had taken. All of the mighty shades of green would rot and become nothing at all, torn to shreds and ripped to pieces, and she would laugh at their downfall. Their cruelty would be repaid. Their lives would no longer be their own—slaves in place of false kings and treacherous queens. They would be left at their mercy, just as they had made them fall from the force of three strikes; then, as they begged, no forgiveness would be given.

They would pay. With this thought, repeated like a prayer and aligned with rage, and heavy, tired steps, she moved closer to her sisters, eyes now focused only on them, as though nothing else mattered.

“Look at me,” Alyssa whispered when she came to stand close enough for her voice to be heard. A demand and plea both; a desperate need for last remnant of gleam. Quivering hand came to grasp the girl's chin. “Sister. Please, look at me.”

It took a long time, but eventually Rhaena lifted her head just enough for the flickering torches to catch sight of her face. When she did so, her eyes were empty. Gone were the wrinkles of bright smile; gone was the warmness. This, perhaps, was the worst pain Alyssa had ever faced—having her sweet sister, her beloved companion, her true friend, buckle down underneath the weight of constant mourning. Have they not yet given enough, Alyssa thought, that the pain still kept crashing into them like violent, raging waves?

Would they have to give more?

“He will be avenged,” Baela whispered, voice unwavering and strong. She seemed convinced that this was the truth, and the sure tone of the utterance had Rhaena blink slowly, nodding just barely enough to almost go unnoticed.

“He will,” Alyssa confirmed, fingers still curled around Rhaena's jaw. “And when revenge comes, the usurpers will wish to have burned alive instead.”

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

“How can I make anyone pay?” Rhaena spat bitterly after a short moment of quietude. Her violet eyes once again focused on a spot somewhere on the floor. They reminded Alyssa of those of Blindfyre—bare and unseeing, and completely gut-wrenching. “I'm no true dragon. I'm nothing at all. And now, Luke is nothing, too.”

Alyssa's hands fell down the moment Baela's did, Rhaena forcing her way out of their embrace. Without once gracing them with her gaze, she tightly grasped the skirt of her gown and, in haste, left the chamber.

It hurt to have her walk away. Their bond had taken years to bloom, forged with care and affection, and all patience they'd manage to produce. Now, Rhaena was once more just a distant presence, both close and far away. Biting into her lip, Alyssa counted each inhale, hoping to regulate her breath. Baela no longer tried to stop the tears. Her warm-toned hand came to grasp Alyssa's elbow. When she looked at her, Baela's eyes were wild.

“Fire and blood,” she murmured. “This is the price, and it ought to be paid.”

And so with fire and blood, they would be destroyed.

When little Joffrey, finally capable of breathing, swore his oath of revenge aloud, gaining an unwavering attention of those who surrounded them, Alyssa kept her mouth shut. She let silence swallow her, and welcomed the accompanying threat of sweet darkness. This, perhaps, was meant to be. This—unknown yet chaos, downfall of one of them or both—was destined. She knew, right then, that she would leave as soon as night fell.

As war broke out and raged through all of the realm, she could only remember the name of the man responsible for it all.

Aemond Targaryen, she pledged, would fall.

With words of flame

With clear eyes

It was oddly fitting that storm kept raging upon skies. The rain, cold and biting against her skin, did little to cool the wrath that had already consumed her heart and mind. Somewhere in the distance, a mighty lightning struck, swallowing the darkness and spitting out a thundering sound. Alyssa had dressed herself in the darkest cloak she owned, fingers already covered with gloves, hair tightly plated. It had taken a while for all the lords and servants to disappear into their chambers, and for the whispers to finally fall silent. She had waited, though without any cool patience, for the castle to fall asleep. Only when the night was deep enough to lull the alertness and alarmed scrutiny had she come closer to the window near her bed. She was acutely aware of the guards by her door—escaping their eyes could never be successful if done in haste and without proper caution. This, in turn, meant that sneaking out was the only way to leave Dragonstone.

Idly, she thought back to the days when all of them—still innocent children—would climb through the windows and fall straight onto dragonback. The faint echo of Lucerys's light-hearted giggles followed the memory, and she shut her eyes, willing her brain to stop remembering what was long gone.

Her chamber was not located in the highest part of the tower—it certainly made things easier. When she crawled her way through the opening, her feet quickly found the steep bulges of stones that had taken to serving as stairs. It was a true blessing that she had no fear of heights. Exhaustion took over her muscles and bones, but she persistently climbed down the steps. From the east side of the tower, her figure would go unnoticed by the guards.

Under the cover of darkness, she soon rushed to the pits, a large hood covering her head. She knew, though, that anyone could easily recognise her. Who else, after all, would dare display such stupidity and disobedience?

It was madness—she knew that much. And yet it seemed so significant, a fate of inescapable clutches. It had begun long ago—years earlier, when she watched young Aemond Targaryen bleed as his eye had been taken. She had observed his blood spill, back then; had seen crimson cover his face, an angry wound and bruise forming. Now, she would be the one taking.

Blindfyre was still weak, his heavy head rested against stone when she entered his pit. His blank eyes opened upon the first step, lids lifting lazily, as though even this much hurt. And yet her rage surpassed any worry; she knew, as he breathed fire, that Blindfyre understood her intentions better than anyone else ever could. Alyssa came to a halt in front of him, waiting for any sign of rejection. If he refused to ascend to the sky, she'd be left without options. Her wrath was entirely dependent on him. If only he'd allow her to unleash it, to leave the confines of the island, to escape and make her rage free—

When he stood, his roar shook the earth. The strength of the sound had her take a small step back; curiously, she watched him move. The dragon relaxed his muscles, long neck stretching, body barely visible in the shadows.

And she understood, too, that whatever awaited: he was ready to stand with her.

“It has to be done,” Alyssa told him, or perhaps herself—a needed reassurance, an important reminder.

She mounted him swiftly, as she had thousands of times before, but now, there was a sense of urgency interlaced with despair in the motion. Strapping the saddle to her thighs, Alyssa hastily brushed her hand over his spine. To not allow any more torment space in her weakened heart, she chose not to acknowledge the injured flesh and small scratches—she was sure there had been no wounds on his body earlier that day. It was easier not to ponder over it at all. Until time came when she could let perturbation and fright burden her mind, the thought of his anguish would remain silenced.

It was a dreadful weather. The clouds, it seemed, cried along with those whose eyes had been shedding bitter tears all day long. They wept for the young prince, the fallen soldier who was not a soldier at all. Only then, high above the ground, Alyssa allowed herself a moment of wrecking grief. Only then, did scalding tears escape—they would remain unseen, washed down with the heavy pouring; swallowed by still darkened horizon.

As they moved forward, she thought of Lucerys. Had he been scared? Had he thought of fleeing the moment he noticed Vhagar? Had he been chased for a long time; cruelly played with, mocked and taunted? Had he, in his last moments, known what was to come?

Had he thought someone would come and save him?

He had been so alone—a boy and his dragon high in the air, and two brutal beasts they had stood no chance against.

Perhaps nothing could have stopped the bloodthirsty heart of Aemond Targaryen.

Perhaps now nothing could stop hers, equally atrocious and craving violence.

They went faster than ever before. Perhaps it was her own desperation that fuelled the beast—he moved without any trace of exhaustion, wings cutting through the wind so rapidly she could barely take notice of their movement. So much urgency; so much fear. But no doubt at all, because Alyssa had already made the decision the only one that mattered—the most crucial of all. As they surged forward, her mind was empty, too far gone to form a coherent plan. She had nothing, but for the conviction that he would come. When she appeared close enough, Aemond would show up, too. Before she attacked, he would already be aware of her scheme. Perhaps he'd fight her, then—perhaps Vhagar and her vicious fire would burn her long before she managed to come close.

Don't think. Don't look back.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

It was so odd, she thought, that she already remembered the path that led to King's Landing. The rocks and water beneath were vaguely familiar; the trees in the distance somewhat recognisable. Blindfyre found his way back to the wretched city with no trouble at all. Alyssa eyes, instead of leading him through the night, came to a rest; she felt sand underneath her lids, harsh against violet irises, stinging and burning. She was tired, so tired—would she ever be allowed a moment of rest?

Would peace come at all, or was it now completely erased?

She could see the Red Keep, still quite far away, but she knew not to come any closer. The usurpers would undoubtedly act upon noticing her presence—perhaps they'd kill her, too. Alyssa squeezed Blindfyre's torso with her legs, body swaying left just enough to indicate direction. His moves were quiet, silenced by the thunder, as he brushed through the harsh winds. They aimlessly circled around the area, maintaining the distance she deemed safe enough, already drenched to the skin. She couldn't even feel the cold air; couldn't sense the smell of storm. Now, all there was left was waiting.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

The memory of her song accompanied by the King's eager clapping. The pride in his voice when he praised her. The gentle hand on her shoulder. Guidance, assurance, boundless kindness.

The existence that was stolen away. Another sister—so small, she would be, and Alyssa would teach her all she knew about the world. They would sneak around the castle in the night, just the two of them, and she'd sing soft lullabies as the little girl's eyes closed. Unconditional love, support, togetherness.

The easy affection of the boy. The confidence with which he shared all the warmth he had; his silly jests, his determination, his longing to make those around him proud. Family reduced to duty.

Rhaenyra's pain. Her father's anger. Rhaena's coldness.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

And this time, too, she sensed him before her eyes caught the sight of the old dragon.

Storm persisted, and Alyssa hoped that this scenery was familiar to the man. She hoped he was still plagued with the sounds of Lucerys's screams; images of his final moments; memory of last breath.

She hoped he knew what would happen.

“Brave girl.” His voice was loud, even when he was still far. Vhagar's enormous wings covered whatever light was provided by the lightning. Once again, he was mocking her. She wished to see him fall down and shatter, and for his dragon to let out last roar before replaced by tranquil silence. “Do you come as my executioner?”

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

Blindfyre screeched, climbing higher.

Eyes frantically examining the surroundings, she saw what she was searching for—there, to the south, a remote island stripped of everything but sand and rocks came as a contrast to the dark waves. Water crashed into the ground, washing through the area again and again, but the spot was large enough to not be wholly swallowed.

It had to be enough, she decided, and pulled at the saddle to move further.

“Get off your dragon, Kinslayer!”

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

“You truly don't fear me.”

She realised, blood boiling and head spinning, that he was laughing. It was a testimony of his madness, the truth of his cruelty. He cared little for life in general—perhaps, then, he had no regard for his own.

“Why would I?” Alyssa allowed her voice to acquire a taunting tone. Vhagar was now right behind: a lurking shadow ready to attack. “I see you for what you are.”

A murderer. A kinslayer.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

“And what am I, Alyssa?”

Blindfyre's tail came to rest on the sandy shore, dark body following behind.

Alyssa heard no waves nor storm.

When Aemond landed nearby, he did so gracefully, still composed and unbothered. And yet, she noticed, he did not climb down from Vhagar's back. This high up, she could barely see his face.

“Here I am, at your mercy,” he said with curled lip. “Tell me, sweet Cousin. What am I?”

“Nothing,” she spat, loudly enough for him to hear. “Your life only has worth when you sit upon your dragon. But I remember who you were before you claimed her.” Alyssa lifted her chin up, squinting, if only to catch a glimpse of him. “You've always been nothing.”

And still, he was laughing. The sound was a striking presence against the background noise. Aemond remained unfazed, face of stone when he looked down at her.

Take his life, a voice whispered in her ear. Take it; spill his blood, steal every last drop and make it yours.

Dracarys, it urged. That was all she had to do: utter the word, even silently, even as a secret prayer.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

“And yet you came to me,” Aemond said, a wicked smile on his pale face.

Finally, finally, he moved to descend from Vhagar's back. Blindfyre roared once more, tail widely swinging, breath ready to scorch. Alyssa brushed his scales as she swung one foot from the saddle, landing on the ground long before Aemond climbed down his beast. Even before he came closer, she reached into the strap on her thigh, fingers curling around the handle of a dagger.

It was a gift, she remembered, from a Magister in Pentos. She had long forgotten his name, but still remembered the wrinkled face and wide smile. Her father never found out, and so she kept it a secret. The man had promised the steel to be capable of great things; had called her a little warrior. Though relatively small, the blade appeared honed. It had been whetted by Inid who promised not to mention it aloud, and then kept under Alyssa's bed, buried beneath cloaks she no longer wore.

It would be best to test it now; check how sharp it was as it sliced through Aemond Targaryen's throat.

“You came to me,” he repeated, “so desperate to take my life. It must be worth something, after all, if you're willing to die right here with me.”

“I came to claim the debt.” He was so much closer, steps entirely without caution. Blindfyre's unease mirrored her own; heart painfully pounding in her chest. “An eye for an eye, was it?” Emboldened by anger, she took a step forward. “A life for a life.”

Aemond hummed, as though deep in thought, ever so slightly nodding.

“Is it really my life that you want?” he mused. “Is this truly how you want to die? Here, in the middle of nowhere, by my side?”

She sneered; Blindfyre heavily exhaled, smoke reaching the back of her head.

But Vhagar remained calm and silent, a large figure nearly too enormous to fit. Alyssa realised, with irritation a wild force in her insides, that Aemond felt no fear.

He stood unmoving, eye already on her face, eyebrow raised in question.

It made her see red.

Her movement lacked elegance when, with barred teeth, she raised her left hand and put the tip of the dagger right to his pulse. It was hurried and frantic, a crazed sound escaping her lips. The steel shone against the base of his throat, proud and regal, and the only thought left in Alyssa's was to sink it in; further, deeper, draw blood.

Once more, Aemond denied her the reaction she'd hoped for. No heavy breathing, anxious swallowing, desperate attempts to evade the sharp object. He was a statue of composure; a sculpture of self-assurance.

And Vhagar, the ancient beast with liking for battle and blood, the war-hardened warrior—she was still calm.

Vexed, she put more pressure to her grasp.

Although desperately trying to control her anger, Blindfyre betrayed her emotions. His wings were raised, gigantic head sinking down to come closer. She felt his hot breath on her spine; sensed that he was waiting. Dracarys. It would be so easy.

“Go on,” Aemond taunted, amusement sneaking onto his expression. “If you truly want to do it, I will not stop you.”

This time, as she pushed the blade, it managed to cut through his skin. Small droplets of blood dripped from the nick, soon disappearing underneath the collar of his dark cloak.

One coal wing came to her side, briefly brushing her arm, as though encouraging to go further, to not back down, to not give up. Aemond watched with unmasked interest; she saw his eye sparkle, intrigued.

“Your dragon is a mighty beast.” His neck was still bleeding, the wound gradually deepening, and yet he did nothing to acknowledge it. “Fiercely loyal. Not all dragonriders are blessed with connection this deep.”

“Is he no longer a mere cripple?”

“A mere cripple would not stand so ferociously against Vhagar,” he mused. “Though, I admit, it is rather foolish.”

She let out a scoff, grimace now permanently attached to her face.

“You must not care for him at all,” he continued, blatantly ignoring the dagger. “I can smell the stench of disease that infects him. It must have taken a lot of effort to even ascend to the sky. How much time do you think he has left?”

The gash increased just so, her hold on the handle wavering. She knew she should not listen; knew he sought to torment and torture, and strike without actual violence. He wanted to poison her mind further, to elicit doubt and questioning. He wanted her to lose control.

“I've had enough of your nonsense,” Alyssa spat.

“Have you thought about the pain he must endure? You forced him to chase me, offering nothing but disregard for his wellbeing. How. . . disappointing.”

Silence him. Cut out his tongue; take his head; burn him.

“Tell me, Alyssa. . . do you not want to save him?”

Her cry came out muffled when she bit her tongue. There was blood in her mouth now; it threatened to choke her. As though in sync, Aemond bled, too, the cut opening wider.

“You know nothing.”

“I know enough.” He dared come even closer, his breath hot against her cheek. “No dragonkeeper nor maester can help him. Dragons are creatures of magic, born from smoke, and their veins carry fire. But even this can burn out. Do you not want to save him?”

He was playing with her; using her weakness as a weapon; trying to convert the rage to defeat. And still, even when Alyssa knew all that, she let him.

Without Blindfyre, she was nothing.

It would be easy to give into his wishes—grant him yet another victory. But the crimson names were still clear.

Viserys, Visenya, Lucerys.

A brother.

A daughter.

A son.

“You can end this now. Or, you can choose to be wise.”

“There is no choosing,” she said in a cold tone, oddly detached, as though her mind had decided to abandon her and disappear somewhere in the void. “I will finish what I started.”

His skin must have been soft, she briefly pondered, for the steel buried beneath it with utter ease. Just a bit more—then, it would be over.

Aemond seemed to be waiting for something. Regal as ever, he stood before her, no trace of terror in his eye. He was still watching, examining, calculating her movements. She knew, then, that he realised his attempts had, at least partially, succeeded. He must have sensed her apprehension. He must have smelled the dubiety on her.

When his large hand came to touch her own, it was so cold she felt it even through the glove. When his fingers dug into hers, fleetingly brushing the silver handle, she let him. When he took another step forward, his figure nearly crashing into hers with all its weight, she made no effort to stop him.

Aemond bent down just enough for his lips to come close to her ear.

Perhaps it was only Alyssa who held her breath. Perhaps it was both of them.

Blindfyre's roar was only a vague sound in the background; so insignificant, so small.

It was true—whatever time they had left, it was nowhere near enough.

She could not let him go. She would never survive this.

“You will not kill me,” Aemond whispered, his voice leaving a trail of chilling stain against her frozen skin.

“You seem awfully sure.”

“I am,” he replied, so quietly she would not have been able to hear it had he been standing any further. “Because only I can help you.”

There was no deceit in his gaze, but she knew how much of it his rotten heart had been carrying. It had long since consumed him; there was no light nor goodness in his soul.

And now, she allowed his poison to taint her heart, too.

How stupidly weak it was to stand there and watch him move backwards. How pathetic, to do nothing to stop him as he retraced the path towards Vhagar. How useless, to let him climb onto the beast's back.

What of her petty promises? What of her rage?

Why would the dark, vicious wrath abandon her when she needed it most?

“Seven days from now, you will return here,” he called, already sat on top of the saddle. “Bring the book you have stolen.”

The silver blade was still stained by his blood when Aemond left. Before she, too, departed, her last thought was that—at the very least—she had left him with a new scar.

We shall fly as we were destined

Beautifully, freely

#aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x oc #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond one eye #ao3 fanfic #targaryen!oc

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