your blood's as good an ink as any

SUNJATA

i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood

Oh he’s so fucked.

He’s so so so so so fucked.

Literally? Figuratively? Both.

He’s managed to try and put himself together, to swallow down everything that had happened, to take a moment to simply try to understand what he’d agreed to and how it had gotten so out of hand. A moment to curse himself out for falling into that same spiralled trap again. But it’s too late now. It’s too late.

Actions do have consequences, after all, and Sunjata may be many things but he’s never been one to keep things to himself. No. He’s always been the type to immediately own up to his actions. And this one? This one is huge. Of course he remembers the vows he’s made, another point of cursing himself out for thinking he’s gotten better at keeping his promises. But he hasn’t.

He probably never will.

Fuck, he’s fucked up.

He flies home, on the wings of a bat, opening the door and praying that Hotaru isn’t immediately behind it. She isn’t, thankfully, and he doesn’t know if Nate’s returned from his trip to the Grounds or not. So he does the first thing that comes to mind, he heads directly for the liquor in the kitchen, pours himself a rather full glass of something strong, something dark, and slams it down.

i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

I could take all that you love, I could be death from above

Home, Atlas resonates down their bond quietly, dark eyes watching Sunjata transform and move inside from his bedded down spot outside. Though he's more than welcome, perhaps his soul remembers being born in Halo, and relishes the cold freedom of the outdoors. Hotaru doesn't push, but her own gratitude flows through their bond at the heads up. She's on their balcony, fabric pooled in her lap where she is mending a few holes she'd noted in their collective clothes, but it's a project easily discarded in favor of welcoming her husband home.

As she's leaving the bedroom, the slam of a glass in the kitchen makes her jump, concern immediately rising and pale brows pinching. Her steps hurry a little more as she makes her way in, and though Sunjata is immediately visible she looks for Nate and doesn't find him. It prickles, some sort of trauma-based need to have them both at her side pulling beneath her skin. Chasing it away is no easy effort, but the dark cloud surrounding Sunjata's entire being is an adequate distraction this time.

"A little early for a drink, everything alright?" Hotaru slides around the counter, propping her hip there and watching him quietly. She'll remain there for now until she knows if he wants to be touched or not. It's a toss up when any of them are in these sorts of moods, and then he'd only feel guilty later on for shrugging her off.

HOTARU

you swallowed my heart and fled, but I want it back now, baby

Despite the exhaustion that still drags at his limbs, there is a spring in Nate’s step. For the first time in weeks months, seasons he feels like, at ease.

This is a turning point. Things are going to get better from here. He can just feel it.

Pemota greets Atlas before he does, and nod and a smile levelled at the unicorn as Nate hops up the steps, leans against the door to open it. A jaunty tune sits on his lips, kept quiet only for the sakes of his darlings. It’s early enough that he can only assume they’re still asleep, a fact that is immediately proven wrong as he slips out of boots and turns towards the kitchen, finding Sunjata and Hotaru both.

”Good Morning.” He offers to the pair of them, Pemota once again dashing ahead of him, making a beeline to offer a greeting. She stops short of the kitchen, beady eyes looking over Sunjata before she turns to settle in one of her nests instead.

It takes Nate far too long to pick up on the thick tension in the room, an arm sliding easily around Hotaru as he passes her, presses a kiss to her cheek. ”Are we waiting for breakfast?” A light laugh leaves him as he looks up at Sunjata, not bothering at all to hide his once again ruined eye from either of them.

That’s when things click though, the cheeriness on his side of the bond curdling as he looks between Sunjata and Hotaru, his brows pulling together. ”What happened?”

NATE

SUNJATA

i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood

He isn’t alone for long, and his mind is too far shifted in between his fuck ups and the rest of it, that when Hotaru arrives it flares feathers along his neck, his leash on his emotions unkept, loosely held, falling apart in an instant. The glass is downed, sat back on the counter and he hisses against the burn, letting Hotaru’s words roll over him, lips parting to respond once he manages to find out what he wants to say.

It goes out the window immediately as Nate slips through the door – Sunjata trying his best to keep his side of the bond through the ring silent, though it flares with anxiety all the same. Hotaru keeps her distance, Nate sifts in like a breeze – so light, so jovial in comparison, and he’s going to fucking ruin it like he always does.

“No… I just got home.” He offers a bit wearily, shrugging off Nate’s question and Hotaru’s comment of early drinking. “We, uh, we need to talk.” He’s stumbling over his words and he isn’t even drunk yet, not even a buzz aside from his own anxieties. Instead, to cover it up, he pours another glass of it and finally lifts his gaze to Hotaru, then to Nate – before his brows pinch together in sudden concern.

“Nate, your eye…?” He says instead, gruffly, voice still a hint hoarse as he reaches up to rub at his chest, over a tattoo that’s thankfully still hidden. His gaze lingers on Nate, however, waiting for an answer. “What happened in the Grounds?” He supplies instead, wondering if it’s easier for Nate to explain what happened to his eye before Sunjata has a chance to blurt out ‘I fucked Safrin and I’m having a child and none of you were involved, but I did it for us.’

i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

I could take all that you love, I could be death from above

Not long after the words have left her tongue, Atlas' bond nudges at her again, and she turns to look over her shoulder as Nate comes breezing in. He's in a far better mood, and she smiles fondly as he swans around into the kitchen, looking lighter than he has in far too long. Since she returned, really. "Good morning love," she calls back, pressing into the kiss he drops on her cheek and leaning into the arm that comes around her waist. Sunjata may need space, but she's more than happy to be cuddled in the meantime. His loss. Though it seems Nate isn't without his changes too, the damage of his eye somehow returned without any changes to the shape. Her silent scrutiny temporarily passes over him as Sunjata answers, already seeming reluctant and overwhelmed, mood clearly the worst out of the three of them and thus most important. One problem at a time for now.

Those words that every lover dreads is what they get instead, and Hotaru straightens, anxiety already forcing her walls to start creeping up as she inevitably starts preparing for the worst. Breathing slowly through her nose, she turns and drapes her arm around Nate's waist in return, looking up at his damaged eye anew as Sunjata - quite blatantly - deflects onto their husband.

"Is it the same injury?" Inquisitive and clearly confused, but the wrinkle of her brows does nothing but show her concern as her thumb plays with the dip of his spine. Clearly she's the only one that doesn't have some sort of news to share, so Hotaru waits for one of them to begin explaining.

HOTARU

you swallowed my heart and fled, but I want it back now, baby

This is not the morning he’d expected to walk in on. Are you okay? A silent query, while Nate looks down at Hotaru, confirming they’re on the same page, that he hasn’t actually missed anything yet. His arm around her grows yet more possessive, and he reaches out, meaning to take Sunjata’s hand as well, to offer him a tether of support.

He can be leaned on now, he can offer this again.

Apparently, he is more interesting for the moment, an almost serious huff leaving Nate as the worry is deflected away, as his eye is commented on. And... well he might as well tell his first, he has the good news it seems.

”Its fine.” He assures them both first, the grin returning to his lips, though the bright joy is somewhat muzzled now. ”It’ll be fixed again before you know it.” He’d done it once after all. The singular eye sparkles with joy, with a pious glow. ”I went to talk to the Voice, and She,” so much had been done, how does he even voice it? ”She changed me. Took out everything Safrin ruined, and made me better.”

So much better. So much brighter. ”She made me one of her Demi-gods.”

No sooner has the bombshell dropped from his lips than Nate is turning to look at Sunjata, head cocking to the side. ”Now, what do we need to talk about, Sunny?”

NATE

SUNJATA

i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood

He watches them. He keeps his distance, trying to swallow down the tightness in his throat, tries to feel the burn of the alcohol as it settles in on an empty stomach. He sees the way Hotaru straightens, and if anything, he wouldn’t blame her for whatever happens next. But Nate is a distraction, a welcome one at first, shadowed steel slipping over toward him. No. He says bluntly, perhaps the most honest he has been, but it can wait.

It can wait because it gets that much worse.

Hotaru inspects Nate and Sunjata stands idly by, spying the outstretched hand by Nate but he can’t reach for it. He can’t be happy, he can’t swell with joviality that Nate’s side of the bond bears. The grin returns and Sunjata can’t find it in him to smile. The mention of the Voice has a slow nod leaving him, but the words that come after?

Sunjata goes pale, stark white. He wants to congratulate him, he wants to be happy for him. But his bargain. It was all for nothing. Safrin couldn’t fix him if he became a demigod. There would be nothing left.

He can’t help the creeping panic that slips from his side of the bond, the tremble to his hand as he downs the rest of the glass and feels all the eyes on him. His feathers ruffle, slipping up over his shoulders and neck up until they settle just under his chin, and he steps back away from them to press his back against the opposite counter – no longer looking at them, but instead peering at some speck on the counter. “I’m so sorry.” He breathes at first, brows pinching together.

“Safrin had me come and see her.” Had it been timed intentionally? What did it all mean? “I know – I know I told you Hotaru I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t bargain. But I did. And I fucked up. And I’m sorry.” He can’t say what it is yet, he needs a bit more of the burn of the alcohol to get his mind to open up more. “I bargained for Nate. For this fucking war. I made a deal with Safrin.” His voice is a whisper, but his eyes never lift from the counter.

i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

I could take all that you love, I could be death from above

Hotaru’s gaze is clear if a bit confused as Nate looks down at her, trying to communicate that she has no idea what is bothering Sunjata. In this, they’re on equal footing. The squeezing of his arm helps steady her, though Sunjata will likely - unfortunately for him - recognize the eerie stillness of her featured and the chill that enters her eyes. No matter how Nate takes up the reigns of explanation, she won’t easily forget the accursed words he’d used.

For now, Nate earns her full attention. Though Hotaru has no real allegiance to either side, her heart rises joyously at the news, absolutely overtaken with pride for him. ”Thats incredible,” she breathes, fingers twisting eagerly in his shirt as she beams. Hotaru can’t conceive of the power he may come to have if Wessex is any indication of his trajectory. And now, finally, she can be more certain of his safety. Not in the war perhaps, but in daily life. He is part-god now regardless of how others perceive The Voice, he won’t be so easily hurt again.

Sunjata’s apology registers wrong at first. The implication that he would not support Nate in his transcendence has her head snapping to glare at him, baffled by such unprecedented behavior. Except it continues, with no joy or support in sight, and the stone in her stomach sinks harder and farther with each word that strains past his lips.

Hotaru straightens and deliberately steps out of Nate’s embrace, something cold and certain telling her he’d only hold her back. Because Hotaru would already be pissed about a bargain of any sort, but she is far from stupid. The fact that he mentions what they talked about has already sealed his fate. ”What the fuck did you do?” It’s the hiss of a rattlesnake that slides through her bared teeth, static dancing along her skin and lifting her hair as her emotions elevate through the roof within moments. She manages two stalking steps towards Sunjata before she can reign herself in, fists clenching so hard she can feel her nails threatening to break skin in an attempt not to grab him. ”You bargained for Nate too?” Why? For what reason? Already she’s too angry to look closely at that, to have the wool ripped from over her eyes to reveal that he thought Nate needed fixing like everyone else.

HOTARU

you swallowed my heart and fled, but I want it back now, baby

”Isn’t it?” Hotaru’s reaction is at least what he expects. A joy that he can mirror, before it’s tarnished by the wave of panic that washes from Sunjata. Nate sobers quickly, his joy once again bottled as he looks to Sunjata, brows pinched in tight worry. He doesn’t know what promises were made between his lovers, doesn’t know what betrayal has taken place, but he knows it’s echoed in his own chest, a knife pressed deeper between his ribs with every word.

Nate doesn’t stop Hotaru from moving away. He makes absolutely no attempt to. One of them has to be angry, and he can’t turn that kind of focus on Sunjata, not right now, not when he knows how badly this has twisted already. His gaze falls away from the attuned, to his hands, Nate working the blood ring off his finger slowly. He can’t censor himself on every front, and this is the next best thing, isn’t it?

It would hurt more for Sunjata to know what was inside his head right now, he thinks.

”What was the bargain?” He asks lightly, voice distant, and his one eye drifting to Hotaru. ”What did she say? What did you agree to?” There is a tremor in his voice that grows more severe with every word, until he has to reach out and grab the counter, just to stay steady.

NATE

SUNJATA

i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood

The anger is felt from Hotaru and he doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t shy away from it. He knows he deserves it, just as he had all those other times. Only… Only they didn’t know, just yet, how bad it was about to be. He stares at the counter until he sees the movement in the corner of his eye, of Nate removing the blood ring and his heart sinks.

So far, at least, the wedding ring stays. He wonders for how long, however. “I did.” He says quietly in response to Hotaru, shaking his head to Nate’s distant voice, feeling the knife press itself between his ribs. At least the alcohol numbs away a bit of it now, it makes it easier for him to lift his gaze, dark and hazy, quiet and swimming, turning to focus on his lovers.

Had he really come back from the ocean for this? Perhaps he should’ve stayed. “She’s making me fight in the war.” He doesn’t have a choice. That much is certain, and it pains him to admit as he looks to Nate. “I… bargained that…” Gods this is so hard. The electricity crackles in the room and instinctively the draconic plates form along his chest and neck, replacing the feathers lest he get electrocuted again.

“If the old gods win and the Voice is destroyed, that they would save you.” His gaze flickers to Nate before it shudders and he reaches up to rub at his jaw, at the scar that spans across half his face. “And…” He swallows hard as he looks to Hotaru next, his voice rough and weary, his hand rising to rub at his temple and run through his hair, keeping his distance from her and Nate alike. “I’m so sorry, Ru.” He stumbles in the words again, fighting with himself on how to word it knowing they had never been his strong suit.

“We bargained a life for a life.” Not his, not Hotaru’s, no. “A child. My child.” Not with them either.

He’s fucking it up. He clenches his jaw, closes his eyes and presses his hand against his cheeks and eyes. “My child with Safrin.” A child that he must protect and love and be a father to, which terrifies him in his own right, to then ensure Nate's safety after.

But now? Now with Nate as a demigod? There was no going back. They stood on opposite sides now. Nate with the Voice and Sunjata with Safrin, and Hotaru - if she wants it - smack dab in the middle.

He wouldn't blame her if she didn't. He wouldn't blame Nate either if he left, too.

i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

I could take all that you love, I could be death from above

The joy is so short-lived, a flame snuffed out before it has even rightfully caught onto the wick, and Hotaru hates to see it drain from her husband's face. There is a terrible storm brewing, she can feel it. She has controlled them, been in their placid eye, for too long to not sense one coming. Hotaru just isn't certain if it will be one of her own making. If this is something she's even capable of controlling. She doesn't think so, not as Nate lets her drift away, the singular presence that could have grounded her now missing and leaving her adrift in her own lightning.

Each stuttered word and strained breath raises her hackles further. Pathetic, a voice in her head that sounds like her mother spits, and Hotaru preens up in agreement. He cannot even put words to his betrayal, and it's willpower alone that keeps her from grinding her teeth to dust as he drags out every syllable in some misguided attempt to - what, stall?

The first dagger is one that wounds her on Nate's behalf. Words bubble up like acid in her throat, scalding and hateful, but there isn't even time to let them free before the second one is sliding between her ribs.

"My child with Safrin."

Hotaru has had her heart broken many times before. Sunjata already has penned his name into that list. Should it surprise her that he has done it again? Betrayed her mere hours after vowing he would keep any child of theirs safe, even from his own Goddess whose powers he considered to be a last resort? Should it still hurt that he went back on every assurance and agreement, every understanding word he spoke when she explained how direly she needed their children to be out of the path of the war? It had been a line in the sand gouged by desperate hands. Hotaru has lost so many of her children to war. He knew this intimately, and yet within hours had willingly signed up another for the same fate. This is more than her he has failed. The poor child to be born of this agreement, one that may no longer even work, is now destined to be dragged into the ugliest parts of the coming nightmare. There are so many feelings to follow, cascading like rocks in a landslide; that he has chosen to intentionally stand against Nate, that his foolhardy bargain has now signed him up to the inevitability of trying to kill people like their husband without even the benefit of Nate's survival at the end. It is like hearing the death knell come for her own child once more, and Hotaru simply...can't.

Perhaps they have made her too soft. Maybe she has shown her belly too many times, made them forget that she is iron and scale and bloodied bone, no soft mistress to be kept at home to entertain them. Maybe it was herself that had lulled away, softening sharp words and blunting finely-honed edged. Whatever the cause, as that fleece is pulled back to reveal the wolf's fur beneath, it feels like freedom. Like shackles unfolding from her wrists, allowing her to raise a hand that would have never struck against a loved one before. And all at once there is a clarity in her rage. The eye of the storm. So it was to be hers after all.  

Her hand moves to her waist, where the dagger Sunjata had given her always hangs. A gift of apology now tainted forever. Her hand grips the hilt, her bloodied palm smearing over the beautiful metal, and in one motion she rips it free and springs for Sunjata.

Lightning coats her skin as she shoves her free palm up towards his chin, hoping to slam his teeth together and daze him, and like a striking snake she aims the dagger for his thigh to try and plunge it in. He had asked her to use it on him once, had thrown it back in her face that she hadn't taken the opportunity he'd presented that day. Well, she may be late to that particular invite, but Hotaru intends to deliver now. All the while she snarls, hair lifting as she vainly hopes that her lightning will find some gap in his armor if the knife does not. "FUCK YOU!" It roars through her chest like thunder, lightning crackling and shrieking in a cloud around her. And for once the girl who had always cried when anger took her under does not feel a single tear in her eye. In fact, if the dagger has met its mark, she hopes to twist it, to make him feel a minuscule amount of the pain he has inflicted on her in mere moments.

HOTARU

you swallowed my heart and fled, but I want it back now, baby

A deal made on his own behalf, that’s something Nate can understand. He doesn’t like it, and it show sun the curl of his nose, the pinch of his brows, the ways his gaze stubbornly refuses to return to Sunjata’s face. But a deal made to include a child, and not only that, a child with Safrin? That breaks the hilt off the blade in his ribs, traps it there for the foreseeable future.

This is unimaginable, this is horrendous. His dreams of easy mornings, at least a handful. Of lazy days spent watching the monsoons pass them by. Of a resolution to this war that won’t end in heartbreak. All so close to reaching, just a handful of moments ago.

All crumbled away into dust now.

There are a lot of things swirling in Nate’s head. In his chest. Questions, and emotions, and things he doesn’t have the words for. He’s glad that he had had the foresight to stifle the bond between himself and Sunjata, if nothing else.

He could move faster. He could probably stop Hotaru, honestly. ”Ru, stop, wait.” The words come out with all the effectiveness of a wet paper bag, Nate stiff, still so quiet. It’s only when the blade glints that he actually moves, reaching out to lift her, tug her back into his arms, his grip almost crushing, fed by a selfish need, instead of the desire to actually stop her. Hands that he wishes were warm circle on her skin in a motion that Nate can only hope is as soothing as he wants it to be.

A single eye that very deliberately does not lift higher than the wound opened in the attuned’s leg focuses again. ”Tie that off.” There’s far less warmth in the words offered to Sunjata, if they weren’t necessary, they wouldn’t have slipped from him.

NATE

SUNJATA

i heard you telling lies
i heard you say you weren't born of our blood

Oh she has always moved quickly. But she doesn’t particularly need to in this instance. We all know how Sunjata reacts to these things. We all know he won’t move, how the blade he had given her sinks in deep and sharp and it burns and twists. Right in the though, vulnerable still, given the fact that he’s still healing from the ocean, from the trek over the edge of the cliffs, from his two day disappearance. It stings, it burns, and Sunjata’s grunting against the pain of it as it sinks in deep, a sharp and shuddered inhale leaving him when that leg just gives out.

But Nate’s pulling her away and the blade slips with it, blood soaking through the pant leg that one hand instinctively goes to, to cover the open wound. He grits his teeth, suddenly panting through the pain that Nate’s words don’t entirely register, evident in the few seconds that he stares blankly at it. His other hand shifts to claws, however, when it finally does. And it shreds the shirt he wears down the middle from top to bottom, giving him something to work with. And there, along the pink lines of where he’s sliced through the shirt, as he gathers it up in his free hand, a new tattoo awaits.

A constellation, in the center of his chest. It isn’t a trick of the light when he moves to wrap the makeshift shirt around his leg, the tattoo simply remains and Sunjata’s hand is covered in blood yet again. He swallows hard, shutting his eyes, and leaning back against the counter he’d just been standing against, spiraled horns suddenly clicking against the stone, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling. “I’m sorry.” He says weakly, jaw clenching and unclenching over and over again.

i know we're the crooked kind
but you're crooked too, boy, and it shows

I could take all that you love, I could be death from above

There is a hook in her navel that tugs as Nate's voice reaches out, monotone and swallowed up by the shriek of her lightning and the rage that buzzes like hornets in her ears. A whisper that curls like smoke up her throat, reminding her that she is not the only wounded party here. After all her beloved has been through, it hurts to know that she is forcing him yet again to put his own emotions aside to help ground her, but that knowledge does nothing to stop the Valkyrie from plunging her sorry excuse for a gift into Sunjata's thigh. Should've been his dick, she thinks viciously to herself. Any other thoughts are swept away as Nate's arms come around her waist, hauling her backwards with comparatively little effort. He is strong, so strong now, and she vibrates in his hold like she'll soon shake right out of her skin. Shed what's left of this weak human vessel and become nothing but iridescent rage and lightning.

She clings to Nate's arm, her fingers clamping down in a way that would instantly bruise others, and she screams in a long fit of wordless rage until the air runs dry in her lungs. Hotaru must surely look crazed; hair aloft with electricity, blood smearing her hand, a feral sort of murderous expression in her gaze. All the same, Hotaru doesn't fight Nate as he pulls her away. No matter how badly she wants to make Sunjata hurt, she can't bear to turn that damage onto Nate in the process even just through incidental friendly fire. It's unclear whether she's clinging to the demigod's arm for support or in an attempt to try and break free of his hold with how she strains forward at Sunjata's words, but the venom is there on full display regardless.

"Fuck your bullshit apologies!" she shouts, barely able to reign in and contain her magic lest she fuck up Nate's circuitry somehow. It begs to be let out, to make use of her mastery over the element to bring this entire house crumbling down around their heads. It is nothing but a mockery of family, of unfulfilled promises and inevitable betrayals. It's a monument to the sham they have become, and the fire should have wiped it out in full. "You told me you wanted children, when I never pushed you to before. You know how much that means to me! I told you how important it was to me that they wouldn't be leverage in this war. You promised you would keep Safrin as a last resort, you knew a deal with her was trouble! And you snuck away the next day and threw it all away for a goddess that wants your husband DEAD!" It howls from her throat as she watches him slump pathetically down to the floor. Predator senses light up, sensing weakness, wanting to kick him while he's down. Nate's arm is like iron around her waist though, and even his quiet pleas can't stop her yet. Not when this is the best way she can fill him in while twisting the more metaphorical knife to make Sunjata hurt. "You brought a fucking baby into this! A baby! They aren't deals to be made, they aren't leverage! They're children, and you doomed them just like your fucking father did. Fuck you!" The thought makes her viscerally ill, stomach churning in a way that would ensure her vomiting all over their kitchen floor if the rage didn't act as such an effective stopper.

Her struggles slow, body halfway turning towards Nate and grasping with numb fingers at his clothes, angry tears finally filling her eyes but refusing to fall. She wants so badly to hide in him, to find solace before the rage consumes her and leaves her an empty husk, but she can't. "And Nate doesn't need to be fixed! Or changed! You really think she'd save him? What does that even mean to you?!" The rage returns anew on Nate's behalf, as protective now against her lover as she always was against strangers. It feels wrong, to have to defend Nate against Sunjata in some way, but the wolf inside her claws for the surface and demands retribution for wrongs committed against her family. The perpetrator means nothing in the scheme of things. Hotaru isn't even sure who she's looking at anymore.

HOTARU