#and aims it at the fire which causes it to shoot up to twelve feet tall and shower embers on everything

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.9

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (5.2k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphical descriptions of blood and violence, character death, things get a little steamy 👀

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 16

Your body lies on the bed, a blanket resting over you as if you were in the midst of a deep slumber. The normally coral hue to your skin has steadily vanished, lips chapped and dark circles already formed beneath your eyes. 

Namjoon paces the room frantically, his arms crossed and gaze never leaving your sleeping form. Seokjin stands in the corner, his eyes sparking in intrigue as Jimin rises from your side with a sigh. 

He shakes his head, as if caught up in disbelief himself. Peering up at Namjoon who immediately appears alert, he hesitantly speaks. 

“I think….I think Y/N’s been poisoned.” 

“What?” 

He gestures towards you, “The symptoms are all lining up….and it doesn’t seem like the normal kind.” He explains, “This one’s stronger, but slower. Like trying to kill someone as painfully as possible instead of just trying to get it over with.” 

Namjoon’s jaw tightens, brows furiously contorting. 

Seokjin shakes his head in dismay, “I guess torturing her wasn’t enough for them....” 

At the mention of your previous experience, Namjoon lets out a deep exhale and rubs his temples. He was ecstatic at finally locating, immediately wanting you to recuperate. 

But this, this just diminishes all the hopes he had with your recovery, tying his hands together completely. 

Seokjin makes brief eye contact with him and gestures him to follow after outside of the room, knowing that simply gazing at your sickly form wouldn’t allow his friend to think logically. 

Once the door closes, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to indulge Namjoon in his thoughts. “We have to go back.” 

Before Namjoon can retaliate, he continues, “They’ve used a poison Jimin isn’t usually familiar with ‒ that means we’re dealing with something specific here and the one way to find a cure is to go back where the poison was found.” 

“An antidote.” Namjoon annunciates in realization, “It’s worth a try.” 

Seokjin hums, “I’ll go ask Jimin how much time we have.” 

Namjoon nods, continuing to pace around with knitted brows. Seokjin re-emerges after a moment, but the expression on his features isn’t one Namjoon was hoping for. 

“Three hours.” 

The alarming news simply aids to add more weight to Namjoon’s shoulders, but he knows that if there’s any chance in saving your life, he would take it within a heartbeat.

Seokjin keenly eyes him, and he knows exactly what he needs to do. 

***

Going back is on par with welcoming death and destruction towards his gates ‒ and it’s something that both he and Seokjin have the displeasure of facing. 

Seokjin bolts towards a wall, crouching down immediately to avoid the splinter of bullets flying over his head. 

“Is it just me or do they seem rather angrier this time around?” He playfully questions, cocking his gun and positioning it to fire back. A small smile curls on Namjoon’s lips at the latter’s sense of humour during such a dire time, yet he can’t help but counter on his own part. 

“I would be too if I broke in for a second time and made a mess out of their building.” He aims alongside Seokjin, shooting back with twice the force. 

“Well, if they happen to ruin this face of mine, I can’t promise that I won’t do anything.” He hurriedly rushes forward, getting into a more compromising but better position for him to fire back. 

Namjoon shakes his head, acknowledging that his partner was simply trying to ease up the tension augmenting in him, but the steadily growing numbers surrounding them counteract all of his intentions. Although he had trusted Jimin to look after you in hopes of a faster recovery, he can’t help but think how much his absence has rendered them in a disarray. 

Seokjin carefully heads forward with time, opting out to simply striking down the resistance rather than waste anymore of his precious bullets. Namjoon’s eyes light up in recognition when his actions form a clear pathway, and he doesn’t hesitate to sprint forward. 

“It was around here, no?” Seokjin mumbles as his eyes flicker around, exhausted beyond belief but content that the two of them made it through. Namjoon hums, the walls feeling familiar and the passageway striking a recollection from him. 

Together, him and Seokjin quickly thread through the hall and target the room where Namjoon had discovered your cell. Seokjin isn’t entirely sure if they can find something there, but he rather not leave any stone unturned in the midst of their presence in the area again. 

At the sound of rustling, Seokjin places a hand on his shoulder and steadies him back. 

Save for the empty cell in the corner and the bare room, a shadow is cast against the ground, bustling around the area. 

The two of them are in hiding, cautiously watching the burly man’s actions from a bird’s eye view. He suddenly pauses in his tracks, head snapping in their direction. 

His deep voice breaks the silence, “Who’s there?” 

Despite neither of them making a single peep, the man stands his ground, eyeing the corner. Seokjin eventually sighs, raising his gun and slowly coming out of the dark. 

Namjoon follows behind him and Seokjin’s stare is intent, prepared to seek out answers, “Y/N L/N. Do you know of her?” 

His eyes flicker, a gigantic grin spreading across his features, “One of the spies.” He utters right away, “You must be the Kim’s.” 

Seokjin keeps his gaze concentrated as he steps forward in intrigue, interested in their sudden appearance rather than blatantly disgusted. 

Once he stands a couple of metres across from them, a question slips from him, “Why are you here?” 

At that, Seokjin glances at Namjoon from the corner of his eye, holding back his words with the intent of being vague. 

He smirks, before a chuckle escapes him, morphing into a boisterous laugh. It startles the two of them as he lowers his head, the brutish smile not leaving once. 

“She’s dying, isn’t she?” He shakes his head in amusement, “I’m not very surprised, she was always the weakest out of us.” 

His lingering smile causes Namjoon’s pupils to flare, “You should be happy too, no? You’ve just gotten rid of one of our insects.” 

It’s like a sudden flash. One moment Seokjin is aiming his gun at this person with the intent of information in mind, the next Namjoon is pinning him against the wall, voice rough and spiking up. 

“My wife is dying, how could you possibly think I would be happy?!” 

“Namjoon.” 

He huffs, releasing the man immediately and stepping back. Seokjin glances at him in concern, before directing his piercing gaze to the individual that’s fallen onto the ground. 

“Where. is. the. antidote?” He grits out, only for him to laugh in retaliation. 

“As if I’ll ever tell you anything.” 

Seokjin’s eye twitches, “Then I have no use for you.” 

He fires without grimacing, scarlet splattering all over the ground. Stepping away, he gestures Namjoon to follow him. 

The latter stares at him in confusion when he begins surveying your cell, simply baffled at the way his friend paces around and examines the bars carefully. 

After a moment of contemplation, Namjoon speaks up, “What are you doing?” 

Seokjin doesn’t retort, choosing to instead crouch down and crawl into the cell himself. Reaching into the pocket of his suit’s jacket, he yanks out a vial and a swab, carefully rolling it over the ground where Namjoon had first discovered you. 

A sound of exhilaration leaves him, and Namjoon is still left staring in bewilderment as he rises to his feet and stares at the vile with a spark in his eyes. 

“It’s traces of the poison.” He clarifies, “Sure it’s mixed in with some blood, but I figured this would be enough for our chance at reproducing it and creating an antidote instead.” 

Namjoon’s mouth falls agape as Seokjin places the vile away safely with a soft smile. He shakes his head, a chuckle escaping through. 

“Seokjin, you genius.”

His friend sends him a knowing smile to counteract, and they begin to head out of the room, fully aware that they’ve found a potential source to a solution. However the alarming sound of voices results in them halting their steps, becoming one with the surrounding walls instead. 

If the two of them thought it was difficult getting into the building a second time around, there’s a sickening surprise waiting for them. 

Three, Seven, Twelve? Namjoon can’t even begin to count the individuals practically pouring into the room, eyes snapping up to meet Seokjin’s which are also twisted up in disbelief. The thought of trying to get past them barely comes across as a suggestion, but when Seokjin’s eyes glimmer for the briefest of seconds, Namjoon knows there’s only one simple way to counteract. 

Keeping a firm hold on his gun, he leaps for the opportunity when Seokjin begins to sprint. 

Their sudden movement and sound alerts the ears of the dwellers, voices spiking up and heavy footsteps beginning to grow in volume. From the split second that bullets start to fire, the two of them quickly take cover. 

Seokjin heaves, “If I end up dying here today, can you promise me that you and Y/N will name your first child after me?” 

Namjoon takes out his gun, staring at the former perplexed, “Don’t be in such a hurry to plan your own funeral.” He narrows his eyes, attempting to focus on the mass of individuals heading in their direction. 

The question lingers in his mind, making him shake his head. “And what makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?” 

Seokjin shrugs, “If it’s a girl you can still name her after me.” 

Namjoon continues to stare at him flabbergasted, but once the sound of a gun firing hits his ears, he swivels around. 

“Nevermind that, we have company.” Raising his gun, he begins to rapidly fire the weapon as Seokjin does the same, but nonetheless it seems like their efforts are futile from the steadily growing numbers. 

“What do you say?” Namjoon asks in amusement, cocking his head in their direction. 

Seokjin simply smirks in response, before leaving his cover and grabbing the first person he sees. His knee rams into their head, their form slumping onto the ground as he raises his gun at another, shooting them instantly. 

Namjoon soon follows through, aiding him by using as much physical force as possible. However in the midst of the chaos, Seokjin is slammed against a wall, immediately wincing in pain. 

He pushes the individual away, but there’s an angry blotch of red beginning to seep from his suit’s jacket, and that’s when he hears the faintest of clinks resonates against the ground. 

Seokjin’s eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets, a familiar vile with a broken cap landing onto the ground and rolling about. He attempts to swiftly retrieve it right away, but before he has a chance to do so or to inform Namjoon, the man that threw him against the wall slams his foot down with a huge grin. 

“NO!” He curses, resulting in Namjoon whipping his head around in concern, only to see remains of the poison split on the ground. He isn’t even given a chance to think of  a way back to possibly retrieve more, two hands grabbing onto his jacket and threatening to rearrange his perfectly sculpted face. 

Gritting his teeth as he takes his gun out, he doesn’t even hesitate to fire as Namjoon hurriedly dashes over. 

“We have to collect the poison again somehow.” He continues to shoot, mumbling his words as defeat runs through him, “There has to be a way.” 

Seokjin doesn’t get a chance to respond, “You’ll be better off in just letting her die.” 

Namjoon swivels at the sound of the voice, the man grinning. In fact, the closer he looks, the more he can see the exhilaration surfacing on other faces. 

The same man speaks, words becoming more venomous, “We’ll have finally gotten rid of that leech once and for all.” 

Namjoon is truly speechless. Here he was, desperate to find an antidote, lingering drops from splotches of the poison, anything possible that would allow you to continue breathing ‒ all in the midst of being surrounded by individuals you would consider to be a part of your family. 

There’s not even a single morsel of concern in the people in front of him. 

“H-How…” He mumbles, eyes blinking in disbelief, “How can you be so happy to kill a member of your own family?” 

“She was compromised.” The man spits out, as if it should be enough of a justification for their horrid actions, “She deserves to have death invited at her doorstep.” 

It’s simply unfathomable what overcomes Namjoon in that single second, be it anguish, fury, or even disgust at how deep your vengeance and hatred for each other’s families runs. 

He despises how much of a tool you really are, and with how strikingly parallel your routes are, like two sides of the same coin. 

Unable to describe what consumes him in that moment, he ultimately decides it would be best for his actions to speak for themself instead. Seokjin blinks at the abrupt surge of strength he suddenly displays, but opts out in aiding his friend instead of questioning it. 

Namjoon doesn’t remember how many times he’s grimaced or had a wave of pain jolt through his body, his partner having to forcefully drag him away for an escape instead of continuing to fight back. He chooses to follow, fully aware that any moment longer was a minute away from you surviving through the day. 

Although Seokjin races at the prospect of obtaining more of the poison, Namjoon is unsure if it would be enough, if the destroyed remains of the vile he had previously collected was the last of what could have potentially saved you. It sends him into a state of distraught, failure probing into his mind as he slows down.

A feeble arm suddenly shoots out, grasping onto his shoulder and abruptly whisking him into a room. The door is slammed shut and Namjoon blinks, remaining vigilant as tension floods through his form.

The bleak room is completely silent, save for the middle-aged man that quickly turns away from him and begins to rummage through a row of shelves in the corner.

Namjoon’s hand threateningly lingers on his gun, irises locked onto and scrutinizing every action of the man before him. He continues to peer around before Namjoon, searching as if he had lost something. 

His frail hands wrap around a small bottle, carefully inspecting it before he turns. There’s a soft smile curved at the corners of his lips, eyes kind and inviting. 

Namjoon can only stare in puzzlement as the man reaches out for his hand, gently tightening his own fingers around the bottle. He peers up, smile reaching his crinkling eyes as he lightly pats Namjoon’s hand. 

“Take care of her.” He quietly says and that’s when Namjoon’s orbs are darting all over the man’s features. His soft smile, the kind eyes, the way his presence is not hostile nor hateful, simply silent and tender in its presence.

The similarity is striking the more he thinks about it, mind flashing back to the day you became husband and wife. His memory finally allows him to distinctly remember the identity of the man, the very person who had gently brought you down the aisle and the same presence that faithfully watched over you as you agreed to the priest’s vows. 

His hand tightens around the bottle and he firmly nods, noticing a sense of deep relief that fills the elder’s eyes. 

He jolts as the door strikes open, a fumbling and clearly fatigued Seokjin glancing around. At the sight of the man close to Namjoon, he instantly rushes forward, but is stopped when his friend raises a hand in front of him. 

“Let’s go.” 

Seokjin stares at him baffled but when Namjoon raises his hand and showcases the bottle he holds, his eyes light up in recognition and he nods. 

In the process of escaping, Namjoon turns back for the briefest of movements, a faint glimmer of water appearing in the elder man’s eyes. 

Jimin instantly scrambles to his feet. 

“What happened?” 

Seokjin simply shakes his head, fully aware of his own disarranged appearance that involves his jacket splotched with red and teared into shambles. Namjoon is within a similar state, and although Jimin is previously accustomed to the sight, his eyes can’t help but linger at how utterly exhausted and battered the two individuals before him look. 

Namjoon’s orbs hold a glint with them, eyes eagerly darting around to catch a glimpse of the bed you were situated on. A grimace runs through Jimin, and he shifts, revealing the view of your deteriorating state behind him. 

Your skin appears as if someone drained all the life out of you. Instead of the parched appearance you had before, this time sweat has collected against your forehead and lashes, the sight of twisted veins beginning to steadily form against your neck and forearms. 

Namjoon harshly inhales, pupils frantically darting all over you. Jimin is rendered silent, unsure if there’s anything he can say that would aid the former. 

Seokjin beats him to it, showcasing the bottle in hands that has Jimin’s brows perking up. He immediately snatches it, exiting the room within seconds. 

Namjoon collapses onto a chair near your beside, shoulders deflating with defeat. Seokjin walks over and stands by him, gaze raking over the way you continue to let out shallow breaths, colour rapidly depleting from your skin. 

A moment of silence passes by in wait of Jimin’s return, but every minute feels too drawn out, as if time was growing stall and running out of patience. 

You let out a small cough and Namjoon’s head snaps up, rising from the chair. 

Seeming harmless at first, it morphs into a wheeze, as if you were struggling to breath. Namjoon is deduced to simply watching as your chest heaves, unable to do anything. 

Seokjin disappears from the room in search of Jimin, but as he returns, he’s astounded to see his friend’s eyes glossed over right before he turns away. 

The two of them exchange a look before Jimin hastily advances forward, crouching by your bedside and administering whatever he could conjure within the short time person via a syringe. Seokjin aids him by constricting your movements so as to not make the process difficult, but the effects on your body don’t seem to fade even as the antidote makes its way through your system. 

Seokjin turns around with a sigh, placing a comforting hand on Namjoon’s downturned posture. His back is still facing you, his forehead scrunched in his hands as his shoulders shake the slightest. 

As the three of them helplessly stand and pace around the room, a large inhale suddenly slips from your lips and captures everyone’s attention, the slightest tinge of pink beginning to gradually spread over your skin. 

You gaze into the mirror, one hand raising up to gather your dangling locks while the other searches around for a pin. The small token of metal falls within your gasps and you carefully fasten it in, tucking them behind. 

It compliments the ruby red gown you're wearing, the material silky to touch and dropping down to cascade into a long train that spreads onto the ground. It’s paired with your hair briefly tossed into a part, a faint glow of purple sitting at the base of your throat. 

Your hands come to rest by your side, stare roaming around the image that is reflected back at you until you catch sight of the corner, noticing a pair of eyes with crossed arms and furrowed brows watching your every single gesture. 

A small smile cracks on your lips, and you’re already aware of the words he’s aching to spew. 

“You should really be resting.”  

You resume fiddling around with your dress, ensuring it was secure enough. “You already know my answer to that.” 

Namjoon deeply sighs, pushing himself off the wall and striding over to you. You can tell he’s tired of simply observing you, watching for the hints of your skin paling or for a cough to suddenly break out of you in between your reassuring and coaxing words. 

Although you can understand his genuine concern, news of coming across the person that wanted Namjoon dead at a mass banquet reigned heavier on you. You hadn’t hesitated to prepare yourself for the occasion, knowing that it would be a difficult task to have something escape by your perceptive eyes. 

But Namjoon can’t admit defeat, frantically circling around you near the mirror on the table. You immediately swivel around, eyes coming into contact with his right away. 

His hands rest against the edge on either side of you, leaning against your form. 

“What if you feel unwell?” 

You can’t stop the earnest smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, hand reaching out to softly rest against his cheek. 

“We need to figure out what’s going on and I’m not going to let you do that alone.” 

Namjoon’s shoulders slump down and even though you understand to a certain degree, just solely based on how you can still  feel fatigue beneath your lids and your limbs aching despite being able to walk, the thought of encountering the person that nearly tried to kill your husband alongside you is frightening enough on it’s own. 

He shakes his head, an exhale leaving him in defeat. As you laugh at the gesture, his amused eyes snap up to meet yours. 

The laughter suddenly diminishes, hand slowly dropping down the longer your eyes stay connected. There’s a weight in his gaze you recall seeing before, the memory of having him close abruptly arising in your mind and spreading a sweltering tinge of heat to your skin. 

You can tell that his mind is swimming with the same thought, irises darting down to your lips for the briefest of moments. Your body moves on it’s own, his lips hovering so closely that you can feel his warmth breath against your skin. 

Your eyes flutter shut. 

“We know who’s running the gathering! I couldn’t believe tha‒” 

Jimin’s voice dies out as you and Namjoon break apart in an instant. There’s still a rapid hue of red radiating from your skin and Namjoon sheepishly stares at the ground, seemingly pretending that he's just simply standing next to you prior to the intrusion. 

Jimin glances back and forth perplexed between the two of you as Seokjin shows up from behind him. 

“Did I interrupt something…?” 

“N-No!” You clear your throat immediately, waving your hands, “Y-You were saying…?

He stares back at you almost as if not fully convinced and Seokjin quirks up an amused brow at Namjoon, who has decided that staring at the ground while cursing underneath his breath is the right mode of action. 

“Uh, well, as I was saying…” Jimin carefully says, noticing both Namjoon’s and your own attentive eyes shifting back to him, “We managed to figure out the identity of the person leading this gathering, and it’s someone you know very well.” 

Namjoon tilts his head to the side and Seokjin slips him a photograph, his eyes widening. 

“Hoseok?” 

Jimin hums, “Apparently, he’s been keeping a low profile after Taehyung’s demise and associating with lesser known parties from your company, including the man that was after you.” 

Seokjin hands him a picture of the man’s corpse, the very person you had shot, being seen conversing with Hoseok prior to the incident. 

Namjoon peers around at the information with a scoff, glancing up at Jimin, “So you’re thinking that if we can find him, he’ll be able to provide us some answers.” 

“More or less, but perhaps in a nicer way.” Jimin innocently grins, assuming that the shareholder will be kind enough to talk without any added persuasion. 

Namjoon nods as Seokjin collects the evidence, carefully storing it away. Taking your hand, the four of you prepare to infiltrate the banquet. 

***

It’s surprising grandiose for what was proposed as a quick get together. 

A chandelier hangs low from the ceiling, illuminating conversing faces and greeting guests with the faintest of glows. There’s faces among the small groups that you don’t recognize right away, understanding the assumption Jimin gave that many of the individuals present are ones part of the business, but never indulged with outside of the company. It makes all of you on alert, patiently waiting for the man of the hour that has seemed to create an audience without their knowledge. 

As your eyes roam around the crowd with intrigue, you’re taken aback for a moment. There is indeed unfamiliarity with the presence of those around you, but somehow the situation reminds you of the time you were first wedded to Namjoon, innocently presented as his wife to gawking eyes despite the fact that your own were scrutinizing their every trait. 

Your eyes do continue to wander about in search of a person by your husband’s side, but at the same time, it’s different. 

Your eyes glance over at Namjoon, who stands beside you as your hand is looped around his arm, not a single drop of naivety in his expression. 

Eyes firmly set in stone, his jaw is tightened as his sharp gaze is on the brink of memorizing every single individual’s face.

A smile unknowingly rises on your lips, and when your hold on him tightens, Namjoon jostles and diverts his attention to you.

In an instant, his features soften, eyes gazing at you curiously. “Is something wrong?” 

You hastily shake your head, “I was just remembering the gathering we attended after our marriage.” 

A line draws in between his brows until a glimmer of light flickers, a breathtaking smile rising on his lips. 

“When I introduced you to members in my company.” You nod as his eyes scan his surroundings, slowly comprehending the connection you’ve made. 

He diverts his attention to you again, “Were you...nervous? From meeting all those people?” 

“A little.” You admit, “I already knew who they all were and the stories behind their backgrounds.” 

Namjoon hums, “I was mainly occupied with digging up information in those moments...” 

“Did you feel nervous around me?” 

“Um, not quite.” A chuckle leaves your lips and Namjoon’s eyes light up at the sound, curiously gazing at you, “I think to say, I was very taken aback when the heir to the Kim empire had a set of indoor plants he was tending to…” 

A flush creeps onto Namjoon and the laughter slips out of you, raising your hand to cover your mouth. He eventually laughs with you, sheepishly shaking his head in embarrassment. 

“It seems like I left quite the impression on you.” 

He eyes you with a smile and you return it, sight landing back on the crowds of people immersed in conversation. There still isn’t any visibility of the Hoseok and with that, you slump down with a wistful sigh. 

“You know,” Namjoon’s deep voice beckons you, “You look very beautiful tonight.” 

Your eyes widen and you realize his stare is fixated on the jewel that sits on your neck before his eyes flicker up, meeting yours with a tender smile on his lips. 

Despite knowing that Namjoon doesn’t shy away from giving compliments, there’s a heat that spreads over your skin as you abruptly grow bashful. However the moment you connect your gaze with his once again, your breath hitches in your throat. 

There’s something brewing beneath his lids, his gaze feeling heavier than before. You can’t seem to look away, left wondering if he can see it reflected in your eyes. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, a gesture his eyes are quick to follow with. His breathing becomes laboured and you can’t seem to recall if you were the one that shifted closer, but the moment Namjoon flutters his eyes shut and presses forward, there’s no hesitation on your part. 

His lips collide with your own and you have to stifle back the moan that threatens to escape from you. In an instant, his hands are circling around your waist, one of them lifting up to firmly hold the nape of your neck in place. His kisses are a mixture of desperate yet passionate, clouding your mind into a complete daze. 

You’re no longer able to contain the carnal urge that bubbles up, a soft sigh managing to leave your lips. Namjoon abruptly breaks apart from you, his chest heaving. 

Your hand is suddenly grasped as you’re being roughly tugged away, head still swirling with heat. You’re only given the opportunity to register the sound of a door opening before being promptly slammed shut, your back falling right against the cold wood. 

Within seconds, Namjoon’s lips are crashing against yours and this time you have no courtesy holding back the wanton moans that tumble from your mouth. Namjoon hungrily presses against you as your hands loop against his neck, kissing him back with just as much desperation. 

His insatiable hands are roaming down your waist, the heat of his palms ghosting over your thighs. A gasp leaves your lips when he suddenly grunts and lifts you up, your fingers attempting to find secure purchase around his neck before you can topple over. 

His lips are molding against yours in no time, his tongue slipping in with no reservations. You welcome the muscle into the heat of your caverns, mouths nearly battling against each other as if engaged within a ruthless warfare. 

His mouth abruptly breaks apart from you, and before you have the chance to complain from the loss of contact, the scorching heat of his breath is washing over the skin of your neck. Your eyes lull back, your bottom lip becoming battered from your merciless biting. He unexpectedly suckles the juncture behind your ear, drawing out a breathy whine out from you. 

A loud blare bursts through the room, and on the third ring, you tumble into Namjoon’s arms as he reluctantly places you down. 

Namjoon yanks his phone out, his chest rising and falling as if he has been running through a marathon. 

“What?” 

The sharpness in his voice has your eyes peering upwards, attempting to catch your breath. 

“What?” Namjoon suddenly says again, “He’s here?” 

It’s transparent to you ‒ the way Namjoon is failing at steading his breath, eyes having taken upon a carnal appearance, but how he’s trying to think straight, desire-stricken eyes frantically darting around. 

For some reason, it stirs up a painful ache in the pit of your stomach. 

“Okay.” His voice sounds clearer now, accompanied with a hum, “Keep an eye on him, we’re coming.” 

The line is cut off and Namjoon reaches his hand out for you, but it’s hard to ignore the way his eyes can’t seem to leave your form. 

“Y/N?” He breathes out and your daze snaps, grasping onto him. 

The door widens and you hurriedly rush out together. 

[quillandink333]

Courage

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Vampire!Link AU

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: blood and gore, near-death experiences, nudity

Summary: In defiance of his creator, Link risks his life over and over as he fights to protect Zelda’s, but then watches his world crumble as she does the same for him.

Masterlist

“Highness!”

An electric arrow flew at her from above. I deflected it in the nick of time, skidding against the rainforest’s damp soil.

The scaly eyes of the monster who’d fired lased into me, just like those of all the rest as they emerged and made themselves known. I hissed, outwitted. We were surrounded, having just walked into the clearing before the Spring of Courage, but we hadn’t been expecting company. And now, there was nowhere to take cover.

One of the unholy creatures leapt out at us from behind. We would’ve been done for if I hadn’t heard its approach in time. I drew my blade and dealt with it swiftly, but this battle was far from won.

The lizalfi were cunning, more so than they appeared. They’d blended in with their surroundings, only revealing themselves when we’d walked straight into the heart of their trap. They were nine, ten...twelve in number, half of them foot soldiers and the rest archers.

“Link...?”

“It’s alright,” I asserted, though I had to admit the validity of my statement was questionable at best. “Just stay close.”

My sword and shield clattered as they hit the ground. “Wait,” she stammered, “what are you—?”

I crouched down and closed my eyes. The image of my enemy’s blackening corpse strewn across the ground beneath me devoured my thoughts and claimed my focus.

Soon enough, my arms turned thin and leathery, my legs melted away, and the corners of my vision were blurred and bloody.

With my new wings, I soared high above the stone pillar.

The monster at its vertex jerked its head up.

I dove down. My body changed shape, and I landed feet-first on top of my victim, causing it to plummet to its doom.

I leapt to the ground, retrieving the sword and finishing it off with one final blow.

“Link—ahh!”

I turned. Time froze when I saw the princess backed up against a tree with two lizalfi closing in on her.

One grabbed her wrist between its claws. My throat clenched in anger.

Thinking quickly, I picked up the bow of the fallen archer and shot an electric arrow right into the nape of her attacker’s neck. It spasmed a few times, letting go of her before collapsing to the ground at her feet, dead.

The other turned its head. In response, I shot a second arrow through its eye socket and into its skull.

But when I reached for another arrow, my hand was seized, and I was pinned to the ground.

The princess screamed out my name as I wrestled with the enemy, but it had me immobilized. I could hear the pitter-patter of the others’ footsteps fast approaching, and saw countless shock arrows wizzing overhead. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t get the damned thing off me.

So I closed my eyes again.

The creature that had been holding me down squawked in confusion. I fluttered out of its grasp with ease. If I still had my face, I would’ve been smirking in triumph.

The archers were still firing away at me, but their aim was off by a mile as always. It was even harder to hit me now that I presented a much smaller and faster target.

Assessing the battle field, I counted three on foot and five ranged remaining. I spotted one try to pick up the sword, jumping back when its hand began to sizzle. I took this chance to shift back and reclaim my weapon.

It didn’t take me long from there to eliminate the three left on the ground. All the while, I was careful to keep Her Highness in my line of sight.

Until one of the archers shifted its aim from me to her.

I raced to her side at once. The arrow flew, and I blocked it with no more than half a second to spare.

Then one of them rushed at us, catching me off-guard.

I swung my sword out, and it leapt back.

I could’ve sworn I’d taken care of all the ones on foot. Could one of the archers have abandoned its post?

“Are you alright?”

The question caught me even more off-guard. “Yes, Princess,” I stuttered, trying to focus on fighting off my opponents. “Get to the spring.”

She nodded and made a break for the stone serpent’s mouth.

Then I heard a low grunt. Her footsteps halted.

Rising to its feet in front of her was none other than a towering, third-class moblin.

Another bolt just barely missed my ankle. It purged me of my paralysis, and I dodged it. I looked back just in time to see the brute raising its club above her.

“Zelda!”

She screamed and darted out of the way. I thanked Ganon for making these boorish behemoths as slow as they were.

“Keep running!” I ordered, blocking another lightning-fast attack. “Don’t look back!”

She was terrified. I heard it in the way she gasped for air as she fled. I should’ve known better than to give way to overconfidence. Now my grip was shaky, my movements frenzied, and I was starting to panic.

I advanced, but the spineless freak just kept leaping back miles out of reach. The three left with bows were still firing away at me. I shouted out in futile aggravation. I’d lost my shield some time ago while transforming, leaving my left side wide open. I could no longer see the princess, though I still heard her frantic footsteps, as well as her pursuer’s.

I had to get back up on my feet somehow, or else her blood truly would be on my hands this time.

I sprinted over to where a bow and quiver full of shock arrows were lying deserted. My opponent, after a moment of standing there in confusion, chased after me.

I turned and thrusted the tip of my blade through its open palm.

It screeched dramatically. This gave me an opening. I grasped it and slashed the creature’s throat open once and for all.

The loud rustling of palm leaves caught the attention of one of the archers.

Standing to the left of the spring’s entrance was the princess, frozen in fear. The black moblin was sluggishly approaching her from behind.

The lizalfos took aim. She gasped and turned around, but then came face-to-face with the pig-snouted giant.

Then she took even me by surprise and ducked between its legs.

The moblin stumbled. Then before it’d had the chance to recover, the archer let loose its arrow, which hit the beast right in its thigh. Lightning surged throughout its lanky form before it collapsed on its front.

I held my breath.

But it got back up again like nothing had happened. Of course that wouldn’t have been enough to kill it, as I had hoped. Soon, it turned back around and continued its dreaded hunt.

I’d missed my chance. “Damn it...” Now it was impossible for me to hit it with the projectiles at my feet, and I had the attention of all three archers back on me.

I picked up the bow and arrows and ran. There had to be some position that was ideal for shooting down the last of these fiends.

I maneuvered across the battlefield until all three of them were in view. They were farther away than I would’ve liked, but this would have to do. Besides, this way I was far enough that they wouldn’t be able to hit me with their inferior aim whilst I pierced their throats one after another.

Finally, the last one fell from its post and into the water below, vanquished.

“Ough!”

I spotted Her Highness, sprawled out on the staircase at the spring’s entrance. She must have tripped on her way down.

Time stopped, yet again, as the monster emerged from the shadows, poised to strike.

The defenceless princess didn’t so much as scream, merely watching her fate unfold in complete, mortal terror.

The beast swung its mace.

I nearly tripped myself as I leapt in front of her, parrying the death blow, but just barely.

The enemy staggered back. I charged forward.

My aim was true.

The blade cleaved clean through its torso, exiting out through its backside. Its thick, black ichor sprayed all over my arm when I took it out. The beast fell to the ancient pavement slowly and heavily, shaking the earth as it landed.

My chest was heaving violently. By the time I looked down, the gore staining the sword had already burned away. Arms shaking in exhaustion, I returned it to its sheath, wiping the sweat from my brow.

“Link...”

I swivelled when the princess’ frail voice called me. She hadn’t moved from her position on the steps, twisting at the waist to look up and face me. She seemed just as drained as I felt, if not more so. Other than that, though, she hadn’t sustained any serious injuries from what I could see. All she had were a few small scrapes and bruises here and there.

Then it hit me. The front of her white dress was sopping wet, and I’d been staring at her for well over a minute. I immediately averted my gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment crawl beneath my skin.

“What?” she worried. “What’s the matter?”

Without looking, I cleared my throat suggestively. When that evidently hadn’t gotten the message across, I muttered, “You’re drenched.”

“Ah...” She looked down, noticing the exposed state she was in. “I just...fell into the spring a couple of times,” she blushed. “You don’t have to look away, though. I-I trust you.”

There was that phrase again. That utterly ridiculous phrase that she’d been using with me for the past month or so.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out my hand to help her to her feet.

The few drops of sacred spring water left on her palm hissed softly as they made contact with my skin. I winced. The pain was small, but excruciating.

“Oh my Goddess,” she gasped, loosening her grasp on my hand and poring over it. A few small cracks had formed in my palm, from which a few wisps of smoke had risen. “I’m so sorry,” she deliberated. “Are you alright? Do you need—”

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” I interrupted, gripping her fingers gently in demonstration. She looked up at me, uncertainty lingering in her expression, then back at my hand.

My own gaze landed on her wrist. Through the intricate metalwork of her wristband, an array of three puncture wounds, each secreting thin threads of dark red, could be seen. The memory of the monster’s filthy talons penetrating her precious, delicate skin flashed through my mind’s eye.

I cursed quietly. Once again, my infernal hate had taken hold of me and obstructed my ability to fulfill my sworn duty to her. I’d tried to fight it, but it was inescapable. I bit my lip, swallowing back a sigh. The worst part of it all was how I now found myself struggling to tear my eyes away from the blood seeping out of her wounds, further proving that I was no different from the monsters from which I was trying my hardest to protect her.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked again, tone tender and brimming with warmth. I nodded; it was all I could bring myself to do.

It was not my place to listen in on her prayer. However it was difficult not to when she was such a short distance away. Tuning her out was quite the challenge, as soft-spoken as she tended to be during these rituals of hers. Besides, I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

The things she spoke to the Goddess about were shocking to me. I hadn’t the slightest clue about how formal or intimate one was expected to be when speaking with Her, but the princess seemed to have no qualms with confiding in Her just about anything. Once, during one of these pilgrimages, she’d even confessed to Her that I was in fact a day keese. It was likely that She’d already known this about me, but even so, if I’d ever been so obscenely foolhardy as to confess my betrayal of Lord Ganon to His own face, I would’ve been stricken down on the spot.

After a while, it became apparent to me that the princess had gone quiet. This was more than a little unsettling. I kept my back turned respectfully, but kept my ears trained just the same.

Splosh

My heart sank. I turned around, just in time to see her hand fall below the surface of the water.

I didn’t think twice before diving in after her.

The water penetrated my clothes the instant I stepped in. It went up to my knees. I couldn’t withhold my wail of blinding agony. My legs were like sandcastles, and the spring, a riptide.

It took every sliver of strength left in my body to reach the princess. By the time I had her safe in my arms, I could no longer feel my feet. There was no way I could get her back to dry land by carrying her. The one choice I had left was to hurl her unmoving form as far as I could and hope for the best. So, with a silent apology, that’s just what I did.

I was forced to crawl my way back to dry land; I no longer had the physical capacity to remain standing. To my immense relief, she was there on the concrete, safe and breathing.

Until now, I hadn’t had the chance to truly feel the searing pain consuming what remained of my body. My flesh was cracked and crumbling, and the water had soaked through each little crevice deep into my brittle constitution. If I wasn’t careful, my body would’ve lost any resemblance to a Hylian it had left.

When it had become strenuous to continue drawing breath, I realized I wasn’t long for this world. And yet, as I gazed upon the princess’ unmoving form whilst my surroundings faded to black, I smiled. At long last, I could bid farewell to this dastardly life of mine.

I awoke with a slight weight on my chest and a warm, bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. A series of coughs wracked my already broken body as the familiar liquid ran slowly down my throat. I opened my eyes.

“Link...?”

The face that greeted me was veiled in heavenly, golden light. I squinted. For a moment, I was certain I was looking straight into the eyes of an angel. Then my vision adjusted. Of course, I realized, no angel would ever shine half as brightly as she.

Her hand, planted firmly at the back of my head, encouraged it forward, until my lips sealed shakily around the weeping slit in her neck once again. As I drank obediently, I began wondering if she’d made the incision herself. Something about it felt sickeningly wrong. Even so, I was too numb, too fatigued, and too delirious to do anything about it.

I regained consciousness gradually, becoming more and more aware of our situation as she slid down my throat one swallow at a time. Her blood was like finely aged wine, pleasantly burning my insides as it went down. All the while, I could feel my body recovering its structure. The cracks and chips littering my skin dissolved one by one, and before long, my legs had pieced themselves back together. Now I could feel the cool mists of Faron, as well as the warmth of her bare flesh, clinging to my own.

It was around that time that I finally came to my senses. My tongue traced over the smooth edges of the lesion, making her tense up against me. I jerked back.

For the first time since waking, I was able to get a good look at her neck. The cut was fairly small, but the way it gaped and pulsed—staring back at me and perceiving each and every one of my innermost thoughts like the all-seeing eyes of our Father—forced me to look away. I could hear His petrifying voice even then.

I let my fearful gaze meander, coming across her and my clothes, which were still damp with spring water from the looks of it. Then my eyes landed on my sword, lying unsheathed on the pavement a few feet away. A corner of its blade was stained with crimson.

I shed a silent tear. “Why...?”

“‘Why?’” she rowed, teeth clenched, clearly in pain. “You wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t done this! And yet...you’re still asking me why?”

I opened my mouth, but found myself speechless. No matter how much I wanted to just look her in the eyes and tell her everything that weighed on my mind, I couldn’t. What good would it do to resent her for this? It was already too late.

“How could you throw your life away like that?” she stabbed. “You knew your body couldn’t take it, surely.”

I risked another glance at her neck, watching as it gushed out rivers of blood with no sign of stopping. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Because I love you, Link!”

My eyes widened. I looked up at her, desperately clinging to the possibility that this was some kind of joke. “What...?”

“I love you.”

So I had heard her correctly. “No...” I muttered, gently shaking my head. “N-no, take it back.” My fingers clamped around her arm. “Please...”

“But it’s true,” she cried, voice breaking. “I think about you every moment I live and breathe, and I can’t bare the thought of losing you.” Her tone made it clear that this was no joke. “I would rather die.”

I’d thought I had felt the most pain I ever would’ve felt when I’d thrown myself into the spring moments ago. But the crushing anguish brought on by those words was so unfathomable that I never could’ve imagined it until now.

“Link...” She cupped my cheeks in her delicate palms. The way she looked at me, eyes glistening behind a watery film and voice barely above a whisper, was just another twist of the knife. “Why won’t you say anything?”

I choked, giving way to an unstoppable wave of tears and hysterical sobbing. “Because,” I whimpered pathetically, “I don’t deserve...‘love.’” I was crying into my hands as she lay across my bare front, shaking almost imperceptibly. “H-how could—how could someone such as I ever love you back...?”

As she began weeping freely into my shoulder, I felt another even greater surge of tears swell up and out of me. All I ever did was hurt her. It was made worse when I thought about how, even if I hadn’t been born the demon that I was, I still wouldn’t have had the chance to be with her. In the end, Lord Ganon would kill us all either way. Why had I even been created in the first place? What was the point in letting me learn what happiness was before forcefully tearing it out of my grasp?

I clutched onto her with all my might for no reason other than that she was there. She held me tighter.

[finrelia]

I Always Told You I Didn't Like Knives

Prompt:

anonymous asked:

Could I request a Alex Danvers x reader where reader is a DEO agent and gets hurt on a mission so Alex becomes very protective and refuses to leave readers side?

Pairing: Alex Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 1,782

Warnings: Angst. Blood/Violence. Minor swearing. Bad Writing.

A/N: Sorry If this isn't exactly what you meant when you meant,,, I didn't focus as much on the protective side of things. But!!! I hope you like it!!! Also, its REALLY long aha. Anyways, Enjoy! (Again, sorry that I changed it a little,,, I got carried away.)

Everything was okay in your life right now. You had a job you loved, in a city you loved, and a girlfriend you loved. Everything was okay. J’onn had sent you and Alex on a routine mission to check up on a new cadmus threat that surfaced. He mentioned a weapon that could stand as a threat to Kara, because they manufactured it with kryptonite in order to weaken her. So, since she was at risk, supergirl was ordered to stay on site at the DEO headquarters, much to her dismay. The location of the threat was a cadmus owned warehouse at the base of a mountain far outside of national city. Winn had picked up on the kryptonite signature which is what started this whole thing.  

It was you, Alex, and a few recruits. Your squad was armed to the teeth, and alex had her gun (that she loved almost as much as you).  You, however, opted for your knives, that you’ve been favoring for years. Alex had persuaded you to keep a gun in your holster just in case, though. She trusted you, and your skill, but she didn't trust your knives. Especially when the threat was a gun. “I’ll be fine, babe. I always am. I can take care of myself, you know that.” you said to her as she gave you a concerned look.

“I know, (Y/N) I just worry sometimes.” She responded with a sigh. You got up from your seat on the jet across from her, and planted a solid kiss on the top of her head as the plane touched down.

“I think it’s cute that you worry” you whisper, as your hand cups her cheek.

It took around an hour of scouting to make sure the warehouse didn’t come equipped with unnecessary traps, or mines. There were minimal guards outside of the base, which you found odd, but not odd enough to worry you. Alex was quick to take out the two men that stood watch over the side entrance of the massive concrete and steel building. You looked to the recruits, and used two fingers and a pointing motion to order them off to go secure the front entrance, and by the time you looked back to where Alex was, she was gone. Alright, I guess we’re going in. You thought, always impressed with your girlfriend’s audacity.

You slipped into the barely open steel door, your two knives gripped firmly in your hands, blade lightly resting against your forearm as you held them in a defensive position. Something didn’t feel right. Something in your gut was off. The power in the warehouse appeared to be non-functional. None of the lights were on, not even the emergency bulbs you saw that lined the walls inside. Your eyes adjusted to the new, dim light, and they rested upon Alex, who was crouching over a body around twenty or so feet from the door. You walked over to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Alex?” you asked. She didn’t look up at you. When she responded her voice was cold, distant.

“They’re dead. The recruits. All of them. This was a trap set up by Lillian.”

You looked around the room. Littered on the cold concrete floor were twelve bodies. All wearing the black DEO standard-issue kevlar. You felt sick. You remembered distinctly ordering them to flank. They listened to you, followed orders.  You slipped your knives back into their place in your thigh strap. “This is my fault. I told them to move to secure the front.” you said to yourself. Alex said nothing, just stood back up from where the body was.

“We need to get out of here. The people that did this could still be in the building.” She said cooly, her hand wrapping around your bicep, and pulling you to the door.

Before you could even take two steps, there was a mechanical thunk, followed by an electric whirr as the lights suddenly turned back on. Not just on- but full force, flood light bright. You instinctively brought your arms up to shield your eyes from the violent change, and Alex did the same. “What the-” Alex was cut off by the sound of gunfire. You were still blinded, and were too busy worrying about the recruits to memorize the layout of the boxes strewn about. Alex, on the other hand, was much more fortunate. Like always, she had everything down to a science. As soon as she heard the gunfire she was safe behind a cluster of metal barrels, never once having to open her eyes. She reached up to you, and pulled you safely down next to her.

As soon as you rested your back against the metal, your eyes adjusted, and your knives were in your hands. Bullets collided with the side of the barrel, grazing the metal and sending small sparks flying into the air. You looked to a stack of scrap metal, that was a risky ten feet away from where you were know, but going there would allow you to get close enough to charge and engage in hand to hand combat, in which, you had an advantage thanks to your knives. Alex gives you a nod, to acknowledge your idea. You duck down under the line of fire, and sprint to the metal. Before you knew it, you were safe, and closer to the threat. As you moved, you looked to the origin of the gunshots. “I spot four agents, all armed with semi-automatic rifles!” you shout to Alex.

“Alright! I’ll take the two nearest me!” she shouts back, holding her pistol tightly against her chest.

She poked her head and arms up above the barrels, and fired three quick shots, downing the two agents in question. The others, closer to you, focused their fire towards her, and she ducked down under the barrels again.

Noticing the opportunity, you ran out from behind your cover, and flipped your knives over, their blades pointing directly at the agent closest to you. By the time he noticed you advancing, it was too late. He fell to the floor, unconscious from the blow you dealt him. Using the hilt of your knife as a bludgeon. You moved from him, to his partner, who was aiming his rifle directly at you. Before he could fire, your knife sliced open the skin of his hand, which caused him to drop his gun. You kicked him in the ribs, and then in the head, to ensure he was out.

“Clear!” you shouted to Alex, who you heard rise up from behind cover. “I think I got them all. Must’ve been an extra guard detail. Still doesn’t explain what killed the recruits though, because four men couldn't take them out.” You said, confused.

“(Y/N) MOVE” You heard Alex scream. Your head whipped around to her, only for your gaze to be met by a massive man, easily a foot taller than you, standing within arms length. How didn’t I hear him??? You thought to yourself. You raised your knives, ready to react, when he lunged at you. There was a massive glowing green sword in his hand, likely the weapon you were sent to destroy, and, before you could move out of the way, It sunk deep into your abdomen, right above your left hip. You cried out in pain, Going limp against the blade. It ripped through your stomach, causing immense agony to ripple through your body. You felt blood begin to seep out from around it. The man released his grip on the handle, satisfied. You heard five responding shots, fired from Alex’s direction. The man collapsed in front of you, littered with bullet holes. You looked up from your stomach, hands gripping the blade protruding from your body, to Alex. She gasped, seeing your wound, and rushed over to you just soon enough to catch you as you fell weakly to the ground.

She set you down carefully and became panicked when she saw how bad it was. “(Y/N) IS DOWN. I REPEAT, (Y/N) IS DOWN!) she screamed frantically over the comms. “SOMEONE GET KARA HERE” she screamed through tears. “It's going to be okay, baby, everything will be okay.” She said softly to you, as your face paled, and your eyes lost focus. You could feel the cold ground grow warm as your blood pooled underneath you. You knew you were losing too much blood. That you might not make it. You swallowed dryly.

“I’m not doing so good, huh?” you asked weakly.

“No, no you’re not, but everything will be okay, I promise. I can't lose you.” Alex said, as she pulled your limp body into her arms. The world went dark as you heard her whisper into your hair: “I can’t lose you.”

Your eyes fluttered open. As they came into focus you realize you recognized the ceiling. You were in the med bay at DEO headquarters. You tried to sit up, only to gasp and cry out in pain, clutching at your side. Tears well up in your eyes, and you glance down to the source of your pain, and see a long line of red begin to blossom across a bandage that was wrapped around the length of your abdomen. There was a stirring sound next to you as Alex woke up, apparently having never left your side. “Oh thank god.” she says, shooting up to pull you into a hug. You winced slightly at the movement, and she released you with whispered “Sorry”s.

“It’s been five days. I thought you’d never wake up.” she says, choking back tears, as her hand gripped yours.

“I’m tougher than I look babe.” you say with a smile and a groan as you shuffled to get comfortable with where you were laying.

“I know- I know.” she responded back. “You really scared me back there.”

“Won’t happen again, I promise”

“It better not. Oh, and I’m not leaving your side until you’re healed.” She said sternly as she tightened her grip on your hand.

“Fine by me” you responded with a smile.

Alex leans over and presses a much-needed kiss to your lips. It was soft, and full of tenderness and care. You sighed into it, you missed the feeling.

When she sat back down, you looked to her, a smile on your lips, and on hers.

“You know-” she said with a raise of her eyebrows. “I always told you I didn’t like knives.”

You laughed as whole-heartedly as you could (without hurting yourself).

“I know babe, I know.” you said quietly as you felt her thumb caress the back of your hand. Everything was okay again.

[no-mourners-at-my-funeral]

Last Year - One Shot

Summary: When Inej was growing up, she spent New Year's Eve celebrating, enjoying family and fun and fireworks. Now, New Year's is spent on a rooftop of an unfamiliar building, trying to figure out the best way to rob it. But at least she might still see some fireworks.

Pairing(s): Kanej (Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa)

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: This is my submission for @weeklygrishaprompts​’s ninth challenge, after not posting any writing for nearly a month. The prompt was to write about characters observing or celebrating a holiday. This is shorter than my usual stuff, but I still had a lot of fun writing it.

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3.

Last Year

“Inej will be up on the roof with me,” Kaz said as their small group surveyed the towering merchers’ mansion.

“I thought Inej would be scaling the side of the building, to the window,” Pim whispered. There were four of them - Inej, Pim, Anika, and Kaz - crouching down in the shrubbery outside of the esteemed Councilman Hoede’s sprawling mansion.

“That was when I was planning to have Roeder on the job,” Kaz hissed. “Pim, Anika, you two will be out front.”

“You can’t just change the plan without telling us!” Anika protested.

“Last I checked this was my operation, not yours Anika. If you’d like to forsake your part of the pay, you're more than welcome.” The two fell silent at this, and Inej shifted uncomfortably. Her addition to this crew had been last-minute, after Roeder had come down with a nasty bout of common cold. The man couldn’t very well be stealthy if he kept sniffling.

“How will Anika and I get in?” Pim asked after a long moment.

“You won’t,” Kaz replied. “You’ll be drawing the guards away from the Hoede safe.”

“And what will I be doing?” Inej questioned as the two others both opened their mouths to object.

“You’ll be climbing up to the roof and lowering down a rope for me,” Kaz told her. “If this works, we’ll be in and out of the house before Hoede even realises he’s been robbed.”

Inej shivered as a gust of cold air suddenly blew in from the canal. It was a cold night, far from the light and warmth of the New Years’ celebrations on the Staves.

“What sort of diversion are Pim and I supposed to cause?” Anika was saying.

“That’s up to you,” Kaz responded. “Anything that will distract the guards and whatever stadwatch happen to be lurking about long enough for Inej and I to get in and out. Reenact a scene from the Komedie Brute for all I care. Wraith, you have the rope?”

Inej nodded, pulling a coil of rope from her bag. “I have it,” she said.

Kaz shifted, hand moving over to his cane. The streetlights and the moon shed just enough light that the four could just barely make out one another in the shadows. “We’ll meet back here in forty-five minutes,” Kaz explained. “If you can’t make the rendezvous, go ahead and get back to the Slat. Understood?”

“Understood,” Pim and Anika said simultaneously, before shooting one another a glare. The two got up, making their way around the estate to the front.

“Come on,” Kaz murmured, voice barely audible over the water from the canal, faint music from the Staves, and the chirping of crickets. Crickets. The tents and wagons the Suli slept or travelled in had thin walls, only fabric between them and the outside world. Ketterdam was too urban for crickets to have made a home there. But the Hoede estate was expansive, with a healthy amount of trees. Healthy enough for crickets, it seemed.

“Wraith!” Kaz’s whispered seemed loud as he beckoned her towards the side of the house. “We’re on a schedule!”

“Right.” Inej caught up to him as they moved silently across the lawn. Soon, they were at the side of the house, and Inej was crawling up. The mansion was built out of stone and wood, which made for good handholds and places to put her feet, and she was up within a moment, lowering down the rope.

Kaz took a bit longer to get himself up to the roof even with the rope, and Inej’s muscle strained with the effort of holding the rope, seeing as there was nothing close enough to the edge to tie it to. Kaz was panting by the time he reached the top, but he ignored the hand Inej offered to help him up.

“The chimney we’ll need is over there.” Inej gestured to one of the chimneys, which would hopefully deposit them right in Hoede’s office.

“Wait,” Kaz gasped, sitting himself down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over.

“I thought we were on a schedule.”

A loud boom made Inej jump. Bomb, was her first thought. But no, it was just fireworks, of red and blue and green, erupting over East Stave.

“Fireworks,” she said. “We used to fire those on New Year’s Eve back home.”

“Well, at least your memory hasn’t failed you,” Kaz grunted, pushing himself up. “Let’s go while the noise can still cover us.”

“Wait.” Kaz turned around, giving her an expectant look. “What time does your watch say?”

Kaz sighed, rolling up his sleeve. “Twelve in the morning,” he read off it. “Twelve-one, now. Happy new year.”

A new year.

Inej swallowed. “You too,” she replied quietly.

“Let’s go,” Kaz said, moving towards the chimney. “We’re still on a schedule.”

“Kaz.”

He looked exasperated in the flashing light. “What now?”

Inej shifted her balance ever-so-slightly. “Is this why you changed the plan? Brought me up to the roof?” Inej had originally asked for this night off, so she could celebrate in her own way, on the roof of the Slat with nothing but her and the stars and whatever celebrations she might be able to hear within the Barrel. And she probably would have got that, if Roeder hadn’t gotten sick.

Kaz was silent for a long moment. Inej wasn’t even sure what answer she wanted from him. Yes? No? If he said yes, things might be forced to change. If he said no, well… nothing would change.

Instead, Kaz turned to the chimney. “We don’t have all night, Wraith.”

And if he avoids the question? What would that mean?

The same thing as a “no”.

As Inej followed after Kaz, creeping along the slanted roof, she couldn’t help but think to herself that she no longer knew where her heart wanted to aim.

For now, she supposed she could settle for the fireworks that lit the sky.

[adrenalinesaint]

When one departs from under the sheltering wing of one’s benefactor, one must reckon with a sudden and profound lack of money. And while poverty had been a running theme in Jonathan’s life, having to clear out his old laboratory and find a new one, with all of three hundred dollars in his checking account, was more than difficult. Penguin’s people lock the door behind him, and all he’s got are his costume and a few barrels of toxin.

Three years ago, he would have been utterly defeated.

Gotham City, 3:24 AM, on the interstate-405, an armored car bearing the Waynetech logo is maintaining a steady 60 miles per hour. The woman in the driver’s seat and the man in the passenger’s seat are armed with bulletproof vests, stun batons, mace spray, and pistols -- all of which are hidden behind tinted glass. Their destination: Wayne Tower, where their payload would sit under guard for another two days before the weapons and defense exhibition the following week. Developers in the field of defense would be arriving from the world over to see what Waynetech had created for their militaries -- and, with a little finesse, they won’t find what they came for.

On an overpass overlooking the interstate, a tall, thin silhouette stands out against the streetlamps behind it, standing on the edge as though it may jump to its demise. With careful calculation, it’s possible to gauge whether or not human bones will break upon impact -- although there are a few other factors to consider: traction, for one. So, the figure on the overpass, getting a clear view of the armored car incoming, reaches down to tighten the cramp-ons its secured to its feet.

When the armored car comes fully into view, the driver gestures to the passenger. A figure standing on an overpass in Gotham can mean only a few things: suicide, or a heist. The passenger brandishes his pistol first, checking the chamber for a bullet and nodding to his driver when the confirmation comes in the form of a solid click. When they pass under the overpass, the sound of something heavy hitting the roof of their car is followed by a long, shrill scraping sound. From up top, the black-clad figure’s cramp-ons leave long, silvery streaks where they’d gripped into the metal roof.

Footsteps echo overhead. The passenger holds their finger over their lips to the driver, and the driver, now starting to sweat, keeps a trembling grip steady on the wheel. They don’t speak, but there’s a mutual understanding that if they crash this car, this entire section of the interstate is blowing up along with them. The dangers of driving delivery in Gotham. And the driver had just quit their pizza delivery gig.

For a few moments, it seems as though nothing will happen. In hopeful confusion, the driver wonders if whatever had happened was all a bad daydream.

And then the blade of a scythe comes crashing through the windscreen, the point of which stops mere inches in front of the tip of the driver’s nose. Letting out a shriek of sudden fear, she swerves, forcing the passenger to drop his firearm to reach over and grab the wheel to stabilize. They cannot run off the road. They cannot crash. With a heavy foot on the break pedal, the armored car comes to a skidding stop in a tunnel, fishtailing out in the middle of the lane.

The passenger gets out first. The driver is too frightened by the near-death experience to stir for a few moments, frozen in terror, but does only after her comrade is outside the car and appears relatively safe. When she too comes stumbling out of the driver’s seat and into the tungsten-lit tunnel, she finds her comrade aiming a shaky firearm just above the exterior roof of the car. But, when she looks, there’s nothing there.

“Mark, what’s going on?” She asks, out of breath from the adrenaline.

“There’s -- there’s something there -- something on the truck, Esther...” Mark’s pistol is wavering in his trembling grip. Esther can’t see from the distance at which she stands from him, but his pupils are dilated and the veins in his neck are throbbing. His sympathetic nervous system is on fire.

“Let’s get out of here -- “

“There’s a fucking scythe stuck in the windshield!”

From the angle of the handle of the scythe, it appears as though someone was standing on the roof of the truck and impaled it downward. As she approaches, she can see the silvery streaks from where the cramp-ons gripped the roof. Someone was here. But not anymore.

With Mark aiming his firearm at the truck, Esther swallows a mouthful of hot, dry air and resolves to move in. He can cover her. They aren’t going anywhere until this truck is secured. An explosion in a tunnel would cause significantly more damage than above-ground -- damage to not just the tunnel itself but the surrounding infrastructure. For a moment, she debates the virtues of calling GCPD so they can get the bat-signal up.

When she rounds the other side of the truck, she finds nothing but a strange discoloration on the ground. In the orange tungsten lighting though, it’s hard to tell what exactly it is -- probably just some oil leaked out of a passing car. Her feet splash quietly as she walks through it.

“I’m starting to think we may be in over our heads...” Mark is on the other side of the truck, voice starting to quiver with fear. Esther has never seen him like this before -- usually he makes a concerted effort to seem unflappable, but something is under his skin.

“Hey, come on. Robin’s like, what, twelve? If he can do this, so can we.”

“Doesn’t he say he trained all his life with elite assassins?”

“And what are we? Chopped liver?”

“I don’t know about you, but I used to be a schoolteacher before this job. Gotham’s one hell of a town.”

“No shit?”

“No --- “

Esther, while checking the undercarriage of the truck, promptly straightens, kneeling in that puddle, knees wet, ears open and alert like a feline in danger.

“...Mark?”

Nothing.

“Mark, this isn’t funny. We get scythed through the windshield, you can’t play games with me, man. M-Mark?”

When she stands, she finds that the scythe is no longer in the windscreen. For a moment, she stands in the still silence that’s fractured only by the humming of overhead lighting and the distant whooshing of far-away cars on far-away roads. In that moment of stillness, everything around Esther becomes saturated in color and texture. The cracks in the floor are darker. The lines painted on the road seem to wave and breathe in her peripheral vision.

“Mark?” As she utters her partner’s name one final time, the sound of her own voice seems to warp in pitch and tone, like dropping her own voice down a chute. “Somethings --- wrong --- “

“H̸͕͆̍i̴̻͈͂̀c̷̖̾͝k̵̖̖̂o̷̝̅̀ṛ̴͑y̸̺̏̆ ̶̲̋̊d̶͕̑í̵̢̀ċ̴͈͙k̴̭̊ó̵̜͗r̷͉̀̾y̵͖̑͠ ̴̣̊̚d̶̹̎̓͜o̶̥͌č̴͇͠k̷̙̯̈́͋.̶͉̎͠ͅ ̸̡̀T̴̻̥̂̕ḩ̶̡̐ẻ̸̛̟ ̶̐͝ͅḿ̸͙̯̎ô̷͇̯̕u̷̘̹̾s̷͓̖͝e̷̝̕͝ ̴̥́̈́ŗ̷̘͌a̷͙̟͐̚n̷̼̣̒̀ ̸̢̄̆u̸͓͊p̸̩̋ ̶̧͎͗͠t̶̢̆̎ĥ̷̲͕e̵̬͙͗ ̴̠̏͝c̴͉͗̓l̷͇̍͗ȯ̶̬c̴͓̥̔̑k̸̹̳͐.̷̡̃“

As though she were in a movie, she feels the world come into focus centered around her. In a radial blur all around her, all she can see clearly are her hands, so she reaches for her pistol. But what she finds there instead is a cold, wet slab of meat in her holster, forcing her to drop the thing in disgust. When it clatters to the ground with a metallic sound, she watches in horror as it sprouts several non-uniform spider legs and scurries away.

“Mark -- ?“

The world is spinning. Esther stumbles backward and trips, landing in that strange-smelling puddle. It’s all over her hands clothes now. The smell is overpowering -- her nose is burning -- where’s Mark?

Several gunshots echo through the tunnel, and in a whizzing ricochet, several overhead lights explode, showering Esther with sparks and shards of glass that, as they fall, transform into ash and blood and salt water. In a warp of psychadelic colors, her stomach turns and she vomits. When she comes back up from it, the tunnel is full of crows. So many that she can no longer see the pavement under her feet. The writhing mass of black feathers moves and sways like an ocean, and she’s deafened by the sound of them all screaming in unison.

Her mace. She has mace spray.

As the mass of feathers overtakes her, forcing her to the ground and pressing her face into the puddle where she sputters for air, she manages to barely pull her can of mace out of her belt and -- there! The birds wail in agony as she sprays them back. Several more gunshots go off -- and this time, when the last one echoes through the tunnel, she feels something.

Something in her side -- right in the weak point of the vest.

She looks down: her flank is black in the tungsten lighting. Maybe it would be red under white light. Is this real? Or is this part of the dream? Stunned and already in shock, she can’t feel it yet. She puts one hand over the bullet hole and pulls back, fingers stained. So it is real.

As she rapidly loses blood, the hallucinations begin to wane. There are no feathers, there was no chunk of spidery meat. Her gun sits useless on the ground beside her, and her comrade Mark stands over her, huffing lungfuls of air desperately as his shaking hands clutch his gun. Even as she watches him in her final moments alive, she struggles to understand what’s happened to her. He doesn’t seem to see her at all. Already, he’s shooting at random it seems, screaming about “They’re everywhere! My god! Everywhere!”

In an hour or two, Esther will finish bleeding out and die. For now, she loses consciousness as Mark descends further into madness.

“Ì̵͈̈́t̶̼͔̿'̵͔̤͆s̶̖̰̀͐ ̸̯̄͂ș̷̎͘o̷̮̚ ̸͖̈̊ͅh̴̲̮͊̔a̶̹̪̓̾r̵̻͚̍̓d̴̩́ ̸̣̰̂t̶̲̋ơ̶̥ ̴͖͆̚f̶̣̄̄i̴̫̻̾̂n̸̟͒̌d̶̬̃̆ ̸̘̣̐g̸͍̯̀͠o̸͘͜͝o̷̭͒́d̷͇̙͒͛ ̷̨̒͝h̴̞͔͊̿ę̴̱̆ḻ̶̬͌̈p̵̡͎̆ ̶̄͜t̸̜͝h̸̙̆̆ê̸̫͌s̵̪̦͆̈é̵̡̳ ̷̣̭͌̚d̴͓̋̑a̵͇͑̇y̵̼̬̽̑s̵̹̿ͅ.̵̩́”

The fluid on the ground was fear toxin, of course. The tungsten lighting is orange and masks the orange-colored gas that fills the tunnel. Standing perfectly within view, and yet perfectly masked by the effects of the toxin, the Scarecrow watches as the guards tear each other apart. The male shoots the female in the stomach, mistaking her for a schoolchild, as he’d developed quite the phobia of children since working as a teacher in the lower grades. She maces him in the face, mistaking him for a flock of birds from Alfred Hitchcock’s titular film that scarred her for life as a child.

In the end, Mark is left standing, but not for long. Scythe back in hand, the Scarecrow makes one fluid motion powered by whatever slight muscle he may possess and failed to behead the fellow, but does more than enough damage to his neck to ensure a swift exsanguination.

Already, though, the gunfire has drawn some attention. And the idle nature of the truck had triggered a safety protocol that alerted HQ. When the guards failed to respond to their radio pings, the bat signal went up. There are only so many things an armored Waynetech truck can run into, after all. A rogue is bound to be one of them.

Pressing the filter of his mask against his mouth, Scarecrow laughs from the sheer thrill of it all. He feels quite young again.

Hopping into the front seat of the truck, he leaves his scythe embedded in the neck of the dead guard. Let it be a love-note to Batman when he comes to clean up the crime scene.

As the truck peels out of the tunnel, leaving behind two corpses and a trail of exhaust, Crane leaves a handful of sweet Georgia straw in the wind, where it scatters through the crime scene to leave his mark.

And what’s next? Well. Someone just came into quite a bit of money.

[tahitianmangoes]

The Story of Ephraim Bird

Sister Amata woke suddenly. She's not the type to wake during the night so suddenly, usually a heavy sleeper but that night felt different somehow. She left her sleeping quarters, the stone floors freezing under bare feet. 

The sound was faint, so faint hat she half wondered whether it was in her head but she followed it, somehow she knew she had to, right to the door of the convent. She opened it gingerly, knowing she’d be in trouble if Mother Superior caught her.

She realised, as she saw a basket on the front step of the convent that she had been woken for a reason. She knelt down beside the basket and the sound became louder; the cooing and gurgling of a baby. The baby was sleeping quite soundly, not undernourished or in distress.

Sister Amata took the baby inside and the convent decided to take care of it.

A baby boy. They called him Ephraim.

Ephraim grew up in the convent which was located a little over the border from New Austin, past Hennigan’s Stead. It was a pleasant childhood, perhaps a more sheltered childhood than most - Ephraim would help the nuns around the convent, fixing what needed fixing or running errands for them. 

He realised early on that he liked to help people - he found being needed and depended upon was addictive.

He would drive the wagon to Blackwater every Sunday for the service there and studied the bible alongside the nuns back at the convent. At first he was unquestioning and took comfort in the pages of the book but as he grew, he saw other children his age whenever he went to the Macfarlane’s Ranch to get supplies or even when he drove the nuns to Strawberry for their evangelism… They always seemed so happy and normal. They had their friends and their toys and most importantly, they had their parents.

He was eleven or at the oldest twelve when he asked Sister Amata about his parents.

She smiled gently at him, slipping her arm around his shoulders and squeezing him. “I knew this day would come,” she said more to herself than Ephraim. “The truth is, dear boy, we don’t know for certain.”

Ephraim hadn’t prepared himself for this answer. He blinked up at the nun who had raised him with unwavering love, kindness and benevolence, her clear, blue eyes met Ephraim’s.

“I had my thoughts over the years…”

“Tell me..!” Ephraim pleaded almost desperately. 

Sister Amata smiled kindly at the boy. “Well, there was a young woman who used to come to the church over in Blackwater. Always on her own she was but she came every Sunday without fail. I would talk to her and she was polite but never really said too much… I noticed that she was in the family way but when I asked her, poor girl started sobbin’... She wasn’t married but the man she was layin’ with was. She didn’t say much about him but he was important, that was clear and he wasn’t interested in havin’ a family with her or financing her and a baby...”

Ephraim chewed his lip. “Was she my mother?”

“I don’t know for sure, dear boy. But a few months later, sure enough you were left outside on our doorstep and that poor girl stopped coming to church.”

“What did she look like?” Ephraim asked shyly. His whole life he had searched the faces of women he didn’t know hoping to see something familiar looking back at him, hoped to run into her one day in the general store or at the butchers or even just on the trail. He dreamed about her coming to the convent to take him away with her where they would live happily together.  But she never did. 

When he caught his reflection in a mirror or water, he wondered what part of him was from her? Her eyes? Her mouth? And his father? Maybe the brow or nose?

He didn't look like anyone else he knew; his skin was coffee coloured suggesting maybe Mexican or Native… His eyes round and hazel, nose crooked and lips wide and full. His hair was sleek and straight, dark mahogany. He was without a doubt handsome, but what did that matter? he’d been discarded, like trash. 

"Why, she looked just like you." Sister Amata answered with a wistful tone to her voice. 

Ephraim did his best to stop his eyes from filming over with tears, clenching his fist in his lap so the nails dug into the soft flesh of his palm. “W-why didn’t she love me?”

Ephraim was taken aback when Sister Amata threw back her head in a light-hearted laugh. “Oh Ephraim, your mother loved you very much. She loved you enough to carry you and birth you and then to make the difficult decision to give you to people who would take care of you in a way that maybe she couldn’t.” 

Ephraim swallowed, unconvinced.

"I'll let you into a secret, child, mothers don't tend to give their babies up due to lack of caring… Usually due to caring too much."

Ephraim wrinkled his nose at this. He couldn’t quite believe her, even if she was a nun.

By age thirteen, Ephraim began to question everything. If God loved everyone then why did people suffer? Those poor folk in Armadillo dying of sickness and beggars in Blackwater thankful for even a cent thrown their way. If God loved everyone, why did Ephraim’s parents abandon him?

Maybe Sister Amata could see him becoming contemptuous and jaded because she tried to talk to him, to involve him more but the more she did, the more he withdrew until, when he was fifteen, he left the convent. 

He missed Sister Amata dearly, she was the closest thing to family he had and maybe ever would have. But he needed to find himself somehow and he couldn’t do that confined in the convent’s four walls. 

Ephraim was naïve and didn’t know the way of the world. For that reason, he ended up falling in with gangs when he shouldn’t have but he found himself attracted to them. 

A few months after he had left the convent, he found himself weary and starving, feet blistered from walking and exhausted from the relentless New Austin sun. He collapsed somewhere outside of Benedict Pass and when he awoke again, he was lying on a bedroll and could smell cooked meat. When he sat up slowly and let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the evening, he could make out a large camp. He could hear chatter and laughter. That meat smelled delicious.

“Estas despierto?”

Ephraim started, looking around wildly at where the voice had come from to see a man who must have been in his late thirties or so, he was average build with a goatee and moustache, piercing dark eyes the held him in their gaze sitting beside him on a small stool.

He repeated himself, voice deep and for some reason, cast fear in Ephraim. 

“I...I don’t understand.” Ephraim stammered.

“Ah, English…” The man responded. He didn’t say anything else for a few moments and then, “are you hungry?”

Ephraim nodded hesitantly. 

“Then let’s eat!”

“Eat?” Ephraim repeated.

The man raised a thick eyebrow at Ephraim, “you think I would leave you to starve?  Flaco Hernandez might be a bastard, but I am not the devil.”

That was his name, Flaco Hernandez. He was the leader of a gang of ten or so men. He treated Ephraim with surprising care, feeding and watering him, letting him recuperate in the camp for as long as he needed. Flaco was unlike anyone Ephraim had ever met, he was boisterous, loud and had a presence that made most people shrink away. He fascinated Ephraim no end. And his gang, well they treated each other like brothers despite not being related in any way. But they were family. 

Ephraim rode with them for a while, going as far as Mexico for a month or two before they were chased by the law back into America. During this time, Ephraim learned to shoot a gun, albeit badly at first but his aim improved over time and he would often practice with empty whiskey bottles around the camo when the others were gone.

He tasted his first alcohol and had his first smoke, even had his first kiss. He learned to kill and skin an animal, how to clean and dress a wound, how to start a fire and take care of a camp. At the age of sixteen, he felt like a man and most importantly, he felt like part of something bigger than himself. He felt accepted.

But like all good things, it ended all too soon. Something had happened that caused a rift in the group - Ephraim had learned some Spanish here and there but not enough to understand the arguments. Some of the gang left for the Del Lobo. Ephraim wanted to stay with Flaco.

Flaco sighed and told him, “you’re a good boy but Flaco has to go alone. When you’re older, come and find me.”

He was being abandoned again.

He was eighteen now and Ephraim  had nothing but a horse and a revolver to his name after Flaco. He felt bitter and betrayed, his veins felt like they knotted and twisted themselves with venom. He didn’t hate Flaco for living him, he loved the man like a father and it hurt. It hurt so much that it brought stinging tears to his eyes. He spent his time in saloons, drinking until he forgot or blacked out. 

Soon enough the money dried up but his thirst for booze didn’t. He was no good at pickpocketing and lacked the guts to rob a homestead without a gang to back him up but he had befriended a working girl in a saloon in Valentine who suggested that maybe he could probably charge for his services, too.

“You’re pretty and young enough and there’s plenty of lonesome fellers out here prefer a man’s touch to a woman’s.”

Ephraim thought about it for a few days. He’d been propositioned before but had been so scared that he had fled the saloon and ended up sleeping on a bench outside the general store for the night. 

There were indeed plenty of lonely fellers out there, he knew that much. Sometimes they bought him drinks and talked to him, glad of the company of a handsome young man. Sometimes they laid their hand on his thigh and he would casually brush it off whilst talking to them. Not many of them tried to push it any further, one or two but Flaco had taught him how to deal with men who wouldn’t heed notice.

The need for drink made up his mind for him.

“Five dollars if you want me to jerk you off, ten if you want me to suck it and twenty-five to fuck.” Ephraim told his clients firmly. The words felt crass coming out of his mouth, never had he spoken like this before but the working girls had told him that boundaries were necessary in this business, lest he wanted to be taken advantage of. 

To say he liked the work would be a lie, but he liked being close to someone even if it was for a short bit. 

He could get more money in places like Saint Denis or Blackwater, steered clear of places like Strawberry where folk like him weren’t welcome. But he found that wherever he went, the men he met regardless of age or profession, were the same in a way; lonely and touch-starved like him. 

Some wanted to talk, to tell him how their wives wouldn’t fuck them anymore and that they just wanted someone to hold them, others didn’t want anything but his body. Some men returned to him a few times, taking him out for dinner or a show, showering him with compliments and gifts and paying him extra; they didn’t want the sex, just the company. Somehow that was worse.

Regardless, he always felt unclean and worthless afterwards, whether they’d fucked or not, when they left and he cleaned himself up...

What would Sister Amata say if she could see him now?

The money added up nicely and he was able to afford himself fine clothes and fancy lodgings. But no amount of pretty shirts or coats could fill the emptiness that people could. 

He drank more until the pain became nothing but numbness. Got into a few fights because of it and now bore the scar from a broken nose.  One of his regulars cooed as they stroked the scar carefully, “you need to be more careful. Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face, boy.”

****

After whoring for a while, he met a mysterious woman named Madam Nazar whose intricately painted cart played music and boasted of rare oddities. She was beautiful with long dark hair and bright green eyes, Ephraim had never seen a woman quite like her before. She sold him maps of hidden treasures and when he returned to her with those things, she paid him handsomely. 

He found himself on the trail a lot more because of this but it meant that he wasn’t selling himself as often and maybe that was for the better. 

The trail was a lonesome place, sometimes he went days without seeing a soul and when he did, he  became so excited, he wanted to greet them, lured in by the thought of having a conversation with someone other than his horse. He found out that this was not always the best thing to do, to his detriment. 

One afternoon while riding through Roanoke Ridge, he came across a man who was complaining of illness. He remembered those days in the convent when he had helped the nuns and the rush of pride he got from doing so and, eager to help, hopped down from his chestnut Arabian and went to the aide of the man.

When Ephraim got closer, the man rose to his feet and pointed a gun to his face. 

“Your money, now!” He demanded. 

Ephraim felt violated but more importantly, stupid. So darn stupid. He handed over his money and then, when the man turned to leave, he drew the revolver that Flaco Hernandez had given him and shot him in the back. 

He took his money back and whatever else the man had in his pockets. 

His hunger for blood was spent but his hunger for human contact was not.

 In 1898, Ephraim Bird  is 23 and travels the country looking for shiny trinkets and strange tarot cards to sell to the exquisite Madam Nazar, he tries to keep away from liquor but it seems it’s a vice he can’t shake. Along the way he beds many people in whatever town he stays in, some for cash and some for lust - men or women, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he can pretend that he is wanted by someone, even if it is for a short bit.

[jaidenvhou127]

45 Terms Everyone in the air rifle reviews Industry Should Know

For starters what's an air rifle. An air rifle or airsoft gun, is largely a gun which shoots pellets or BBs pneumatically, making use of compressed air, or almost every other mechanically compressed gasoline, instead of applying any combustible gasoline to fireplace the shot. Most air rifles use a little number of compressed gasoline to propel the BB's at extremely substantial speeds, firing several shots in the row, much like how a paintball player would make use of a equipment gun, or simulate recreation-fashion hunting using a bow and arrow. Compared with a real gun, during which the shooter should aim and shoot continually, airsoft takes advantage of compressed air, Therefore the expression "airsoft." These guns are occasionally used for training, Though some states usually do not enable using airsoft guns on school property, since they tend to be extremely addictive and abusive to students (for more information on this subject matter, go to Your Rights by studying the report connected under).

An airsoft shotgun is often a scaled-down Model of a rifle. The difference is in dimensions, where by the shotgun is amongst 5 inches and twelve inches lengthy, and among 10 inches and twenty 5 inches prolonged General. A shotgun has a shorter variety in comparison to the rifle, as it can't be fired as speedily since the rifle can, however it is nonetheless powerful ample to be incredibly useful For lots of games. The pellets fired from a shotgun tend to be more impacted and vacation farther than These of the rifle, causing higher precision.

Airsoft pellets are much like pellet guns, but rather are housed inside of a plastic casing, in lieu of a metal or wooden one. Some air rifles use spring-loaded Publications, while some use bullet-operated kinds. The type of magazine decided on will depend on the specified accuracy and energy level desired. Some popular brands involve Remingtons and Winchester, although CO2 designs are developing in recognition.

Among the most well-liked air rifles could be the repeating shooter, which can be a cross amongst a shotgun along with a rifle. The repeating air rifle (revolving rifle) shoots continuously, using small pellets (no bigger than BBs in diameter) that promptly rotate throughout the barrel at the same rate as the air, to get a steady shot anytime. Recoil (the motion with the pellet backwards and forwards) is ready manually, by going the butt on the rifle towards the shooter right up until the pellet reaches a relentless speed and route. Employing this kind of air rifle is an excellent searching Software, enabling the hunter to promptly strike many targets with a sizable, powerful pellet.

An airsoft pistol is lesser than most rifles. Often referred to as pistol shooters, they are frequently utilized by newcomers plus much more professional hunters alike. Airsoft pistols have the same firing characteristics as rifles (assortment, velocity, stopping energy, and many others. ), but their deficiency of a giant bore helps make them usually significantly less exact than rifles.

Rifles, Alternatively, are definitely the closest akin to shotgun pellets. A searching rifle will maintain numerous pellets, which can be shot off rapidly (frequently at over 100 feet for each second or so), but a pistol's pellet is often less powerful than a shotgun's. For this reason, when purchasing airsoft guns, newcomers really should stick to pistol designs; Even though they're much cheaper, You do not require the same muzzle Power as other kinds of looking guns.

To figure out which kind of air rifle is very best for your preferences, it is important to understand the number of calibers are now available and just what the bullet body weight is for every. The burden of the pellet is calculated in grains, which refers to the full fat on the pellet including jacket material. Each and every caliber has its very own distinct pounds, so should you are trying to find a pistol product, you'll want to get one that weights much more than half a grain, which is the common for pistol versions.

Although these air rifles are exceptional starter units, they aren't the most beneficial options for searching. Bear in mind that they're specifically meant for goal shooting, in order that they should not be utilized to hunt. Rookies must rather target their focus on looking rifles. They may have lots of choices and a big capturing assortment. Once you've gotten extra at ease with making use of them, you could come across you need to department out and purchase other types of air rifles as your looking requires increase.

Ways to Sight Within an Air Rifle Using an open Sights

When learning how to sight within an air rifle it's essential to initial understand how the rifle performs. When it is actually powered by a spring, and the bolt is cocked, the rifle is able to fireplace. Once the rifle is loaded, it must be put on a focus on and then the searchers will strike the induce to trigger the bolt to maneuver up and down. This results in the bullet to journey down the barrel in the gun. Once the bullet reaches the goal, it is going to Get hold of the goal area with Vitality.

To sight in an air rifle with open sights, the shooter will have to location the sight into your focus on. After This really is performed the shooter should seem through the sight to align the reticule on the sight Together with the crosshairs over the goal. This is performed by looking alongside the best fringe of the reticule. As soon as That is done, you must search with the gap from the sight tube to your focus on. The following action in the way to sight in an air rifle with open sights should be to appear down through the sight tube.

When hunting from the sight in an air rifle with open sights, the shooter will see a small crosshatch mark on the best of your reticule. This marks the posture on the crosshatch. The smaller circle inside the reticule, called the entrance pupil, will present the exact place of the bore in reference towards the crosshatch. The size of this pupil is very important. If the entrance pupil is too large, or as well compact, the sight may well not get the job done properly.

Soon after sighting in the air rifle with open sights, the subsequent step should be to concentrate the sight. The target of focusing the sight is to Middle the bore in a length equivalent to the space the sight was adjusted to. This is certainly accomplished by going the sight inside a horizontal path till it strains up Along with the sight picture.

The third stage on how to sight within an air rifle with open up sights is to carry the air rifle with both hands. This is certainly done by holding the rifle both Together with the arbors open or With all the buttstock down. The gun ought to be introduced slowly but surely into the frontight posture, after which held steadily for the minute. Then, with a single hand continue to Keeping the rifle, another hand need to be placed on The underside in the scope.

The final stage regarding how to sight in an air rifle with open up sights will be to line up the sight photograph and also the reticule. The reticule is the world around the higher facet with the crosshatch. The sight really should be lined up using this type of region. Once the reticule is lined up With all the crosshatch, the rifle should be introduced into its last posture after which you can fired. Aiming the gun Together with the crosshatch pointing in the overall course of your target is the easiest way of hitting a goal, especially if you happen to be Discovering the way to utilize a heavier caliber bullet.

A general general guideline for lining up a reticule on how to sight within an air rifle with open sights will be to place the reticule about two inches guiding the sight line. This will help have the bullet pointed in the final course with the target and far from any road blocks That could be inside your line of sight. Remember that the reticule will not be completely centered inside the sight photograph, Which it may not shift in the least when you shoot the gun. This makes it important to consistently abide by this general general guideline when making ready to fire.

Ultimately, so as to sight within an air rifle which has a shut sight picture, you need to align the reticule Along with the crosshatch with the concentrate on. This requires a little bit extra perform, but is mostly simpler than lining up the reticule Along with the crosshatch. The truth is, most expert hunters will concur this is The most tricky pictures they ever really need to get, and they'll do anything probable to grasp This system. The important thing to taking pictures a shot such as this appropriately is being aware of how you can sight within an air rifle with a shut sight picture. Observe these simple ideas, and it is best to do just very well.

How to wash an Air Rifle Barrel - Uncomplicated and Effective Methods for Your Airsoft Guns

So, you want to know how to clean an air rifle barrel? The most crucial Component of cleaning your airsoft gun will be the packing products. This is due to the packing product will secure the interior aspects of your gun from any dust that gets developed up through use. This is how to clean an air rifle barrel, from the inside out.

Initially, you must unpack your airsoft gun. Unpack it identical to you would probably when you ended up about to load an actual gun. Get all of the instances, caps, and many others. Place them in a storage box and label it with your identify, address as well as date you packed it.

Upcoming, You will need to just take your rifle for the assortment and sight in. Acquiring a great sight in is very important when cleaning so you should definitely Test the cross hair over the front iron sights. If you have to, have another person assist you to hold the rifle even now When you take the pictures.

When you've done that, it's time to get started cleansing! Put your airsoft rifle in the top 50 % and blow absent the dirt or other debris That may be about best deer gun the buttstock or even the forehand aspect of it. Should you be using a compressed air, attempt to use a admirer that can help obvious the air. This is often how to scrub an air rifle barrel the best way feasible.

Now, let us go on and clear away the BBs. You are able to do this whilst standing, but for a few cause, It appears to work greater when you're susceptible. Clear away the BBs by lifting the magazine downwards and taking it out through the bottom. Your intention must be to the BBs to go into the journal effectively. It's also possible to faucet the bottom in the journal using your foot for getting them out as easy as you can. You might want to be really thorough when dealing with the magazine because of how briskly it could possibly pop out.

Now, you'll want to check your windage. This could look like a straightforward issue to carry out, but it is important when how to scrub an air rifle barrel. If you don't have correct windage, your shot will go way off target. The easiest method to go relating to this is to acquire an airsoft pistol that shoots in the identical wind as your rifle.

Once you have your rifle in the right location and your windage proper, you are able to continue to how to wash an air rifle barrel. You must have a Unique airbrush gun that features a quite high-quality tip on it. This is often the way you are likely to spray the cleansing agent best air rifle reviews on to the surface in the rifle. Make sure that you deal with The full within the rifle using this type of Resolution. You are doing want any added residue which could cling to The within to be easily removed.

As you are finished spraying the answer with your air rifle, Make certain that you Enable it dry prior to Placing anything else around the rifle. Following the answer dries, you could then put a small level of lubrication on to the inside of your motion. This will likely help your gun run efficiently for years to come back. It is crucial to notice that some individuals prefer to use silicon oil as an extra lubricant. This is among the most well-liked strategies on how to clean an air rifle barrel.

The last step in how to clean an air rifle barrel is by wiping down The within from the motion. Just after spraying the lubricant on to the inside on the airsoft rifle, Guantee that you frivolously rub down your entire inside of the motion. You might want to do this several moments, particularly when you utilize lots of lubricant or cleaning agent. After you have rubbed down the inside with the motion, you can then set some lubricant back again inside the action and Enable it dry. When you find yourself finished, you will end up left with one lovely bit of airsoft equipment.

Cleansing an air rifle is relatively straightforward if you understand how to wash an air rifle barrel. Some people prefer to depart all the issue to specialists, but there are a few items you could do that can help make your individual cleansing Resolution at home. Firstly, In case you have a carbon brush, you have to be in a position to simply get to the action and take away any Create up. Otherwise, just be sure to Keep to the very same technique as you did when cleaning the rifle right before. If you cannot take away any Create up, you might need to work with some form of air softener to get the things out of the rifle.

In case you have hardly ever employed something just like the compressed air or perhaps a hair dryer to clean an air rifle in advance of, it may be scary. It really is much better nevertheless to employ these applications Every now and then when you know the way to clean an air rifle barrel. If you see how terrific every one of the paint arrives off, it is a good emotion. Make sure to always dry the barrel totally just after cleansing so that you will be confident to have the ideal final results. Abide by these tips on how to clear an air rifle barrel and you'll be very happy with how excellent your new gun appears to be like.

What exactly is a Nitro Piston Air Rifle?

An air rifle can be an air-driven equipment that shoots pellets or BB's at significant velocities. They usually are run by energy, Despite the fact that some are powered by gasoline. Some use substantial quantities of air tension while some make use of a mechanical pump. Nitro is the most well-liked type of air rifle. It can shoot pellets much faster than conventional air guns.

To load a nitro gun, you'll need the suitable style of tank along with the cylinder necessary to hold the air demand. You also want an air pump which features in Substantially the identical way to be a bicycle pump. The cylinder and pump are located beneath the barrel from the gun.

Just like other kinds of air guns, the pace and energy of a nitro driven air rifle will likely be dependent on the quantity of air tension at some time. At lower temperatures the level of air pressure will likely be incredibly reduced. At better temperatures, the amount of air strain will maximize. Nitro guns are Typically powered by spring air as it is inexpensive than fuel air.

A nitro-piston powered air rifle includes a bolt that functions as its bolt carrier. The barrel on the rifle is supported by a hand guard. The size from the barrel is generally constrained by the dimensions on the bore. Whilst some have for a longer period barrels than Other folks, the shorter ones are normally much less expensive.

A gasoline-powered airsoft rifle uses a similar program to a regular airsoft gun. The fuel that is used is stored inside of a sealed tank. A piston is inserted in to the tank combined with the gasses. The piston pushes the gasses through a tube as well as compressed air passes by way of a vent. The gasses are then expelled through a tube heading again for the rifle. As in the case of a regular gasoline-powered airsoft gun, the gasoline is stored in a very sealed tank.

A nitro-piston is different from a turbo-piston or an airsoft-style. The theory driving the operation of a nitro-piston is comparable to that of the electrical motor. A pinion or bolt moves forwards and backwards amongst two pins. As being the air force builds up the piston pushes the air before the bolt. Once the air is stopped through the bolt, the piston rotates. Since the piston moves, the pins press on the bolt and the gasses transfer in the air.

A normal design for this kind of airsoft gun includes a drum that houses the cylinder in addition to a hop mechanism that enables the person to regulate the amount of the BB's travel to the specified velocities. Some styles also have a hand ram that's operated through the person. This provides a firing choice of 400 ft or maybe more. The compressed air saved inside the tank of the nitro-piston gun delivers a relentless stream of air and an unbelievable taking pictures distance.

Making use of gasoline driven air rifles comes along with numerous benefits. They can fire a shot a lot more quickly than other sorts of air rifles and they supply a far more continual capturing speed. Nitro-pistons also may be used in slower, automatic BB loading models which have been ideal for hunters. These guns are perfect for airsoft skirmishes and goal taking pictures.

The negatives of those guns are that they use additional gas and value more cash. The best ones can Value from the tens of A large number of pounds. They also need typical servicing and will not be as highly effective as several of the choice selections. Lots of types make use of the gas technique to build tension for your pellets to grow, which implies that the amount of fuel utilized is depending on exactly how much BB's are in Each and every pellet. In the event you shoot quite very long distances, it could be superior to opt for An electrical airsoft BB gun that works by using a battery and won't require you to definitely load gasoline.

Even so, if you do elect to choose a gas powered airsoft rifle, there are several possibilities. You will find three most important kinds of nitro BB's, but most airsoft companies will deliver a selection from which to choose. These include non-carbonated, carbonated, and good rocket form BB's. It is crucial to understand how the gun functions to be able to choose the finest just one for your needs.

For the reason that these variety of rifles use compressed air to propel BBs, they are generally known as "airsoft guns". In case you are just getting started with airsoft, Studying what on earth is a nitro piston air rifle will help you choose the appropriate one particular. It is important to select one that has the power and attributes that you just need to have. When you will find the basic principles for fewer, you might want to expend much more to get high end attributes and ability. After getting settled into a snug stage with exactly what is a nitro air rifle, you should be able to tackle the sector and start aggressive airsoft.

The best way to Mount A Scope On An Air Rifle

Discovering how you can mount a scope on an air rifle is a vital action. Air rifles are a lot more delicate in comparison to the typical rifle. You will find sure restrictions In relation to utilizing air guns in certain states and if you break a kind of laws, you'll be able to be forced to pay for the cost of fixing or replacing your gun. When you purchase a fuel-powered air gun, the manufacturer allows for specific limits, so you need to know ways to mount a scope on your gun.

Some limits condition that you can't use normal eye glasses when you are searching. Since air rifles are usually not handheld, They may be much easier to use on your focus on

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Till The Final Bullet

Series Summary: “In a place where they won't let us feel, In a place where nothing seems real. I will hold you. In a world that’s moving too fast. In a world where nothing can last. I will hold you.”-Last Night of The World- Miss Saigon

From the age of twelve, Y/N Y/L/N, has been trained by Hydra, and used as an assailant for a number of years. She’s been taught not to feel, but when she’s put in a kill squad with the Winter Solider, their partnership is deadly, as their motivation becomes more than just keeping themselves alive.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Warning: Angst, Fluff, Strong Language, Eventual Smut, Dark!Bucky (I think??) (18+ Only)

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four//

Part Five: Fall of HYDRA

Chapter Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 3k

“Major Y/L/N, Sargent Barnes, get to the flight deck immediately.”

You reload your weapon, before stepping over the body of a fallen S.H.I.E.L.D agent. You meet with James on the stairs, as the both of you begin to storm the building. The air turns thinner, and colder once you reach the top deck. There is a flurry of movement across the entire airstrip, as people began to scramble to their jets.

One of the jets begins to hover into the air, but before it can pull up completely, James fires a small missile into the engine, causing the plane to burst into flames, and come crashing down to the platform, in a ball of smoke.

People were hurling themselves out of the way, as you and James advanced through the smoke. James fires twice more, destroying the jets, before people can have the chance to fly them away. Through the smoke, you watch a pilot advancing towards James, his arm held high as he goes to launch his own grenade. Before it can be released, you gun him down, hurrying to the unexploded grenade that bounces from his dead man’s grip. Bouncing along the tarmac, it springs upwards and into your palm, and just before it explodes, you’re able to hurl it into an open back door, of one of the jets.

Gun fire comes from in front of you, and skims passed you, James jumped in front of you, shielding you with his arm, the bullets deflecting off the metal. He punches the guy out of the way, before kicking another square in the chest, projecting him into the air, and into the routers of the jet’s engines.

“I need you in the air.” A voice yells in your ear, you know James has heard the same message, as he briefly looks to you, before both of you sprint towards the nearest jet.

There’s a guy sitting in the front seat, but James leaps on top of the covering, discharging two shots into the guy’s head. You climb into the back of the jet, watching as James tears the window of the pilot’s side clean off, and climbing into the driver’s seat. Soon you’re both taking off, heading towards the helicarriers.

“This is Major Y/L/N to control, Sargent Barnes and I are in the air, repeat we are in the air. Heading towards Targets.” You radioed, only just hearing a fuzzy ‘copy that’, over the beating of the thrusters.

Soon you are landing on the helicarrier’s flight deck, the both of you obtain a covered position behind some cargo. You watch as the man with the shield is plucked from the air, by the guy wearing the bird costume, the pair of them, landing onto the tarmac.

Just as the two walked past you, you run tackling the man with the shield, throwing him off the platform.

“Steve.” The birdman calls.

The birdman tries to leap after him, but he’s held back by James, who’s gripping one of his wings. James tosses the guy behind him, but the thrusters in his suit steady him. From nowhere, birdman pulled two guns from his suit, James grabbed you, pulling you out of range, and behind one of the helicarrier’s engines. When you are no longer within his aim, he makes an attempt to fetch the man with the shield, but you pull out your grappling hook, shooting it at one of his wings.

It easily wraps around the metal, and you tug aggressively, bringing birdman back to the ground. Before he can recover, you pull harder on the metal chord, tearing the wing off completely. James runs at him, kicking him in the chest, and sending him over the edge, you join James, looking over the side, and you watched him disappear, as he got smaller and smaller.

While you are watching the birdman release a parachute, your eyes dart downwards, watching a blue dot struggling over the side of one of the wings.

“Jay,” James looks to you, and you nod your head towards the man, who you now knew name was Steve, “we need to get down there.”

Turning away, you both broke into a sprint, heading towards the inside of the hellicarrier.

Once you were inside, it was almost like a maze, that was filled with men, rushing around, like rats abandoning a sinking ship. Eventually you are able to find your way, and head towards the core of the ship, where you knew Steve was heading.

Once you reach the core, James stands in front of the computer.

“I’ll find a better position, stay here.” You took a run up, before leaping onto a higher deck, so you would have the higher ground, in every sense. You knelt watching through the bars, your eyes being drawn to the other end of the pier, where Steve appeared. He stopped just a short distance from James.

“People are gonna die, Buck.” You squinted at his name, why did he keep calling him that. You kept quiet, as you shifted a little so you could have a better view of James and the offender. James said nothing and kept his glare strong.

“I can’t let that happen. Please don’t make me do this.”

You gripped your gun tighter, aiming it at Steve, but before you could fire your shot, he had slung his shield towards James, which he very easily battered away, like an irritating fly. The guy caught it, using it to shield himself, as James released a small round, all of the bullets were dispersed by the shield.

They had moved out of your range now, and you were finding it hard to aim your gun, you fired a few shots at the same time as James, one of you hit Steve in the side. Steve uses his shield to push James away, and sends him careering into the computer.

You jump down, surprising him slightly, your knife was poised, as you stood between him and James. You begin to run towards him, thrashing your knife here there and everywhere.

Trying desperately to land a strike, you opt for going for his legs, because you had worked out from your viewing point, he didn’t defend his legs very well. You kick him in the shin, which causes his leg to buckle slightly, but he knocks you away with his shield, before you can act. The force sends you over the barrier, and onto the glass floor below.

It’s up to James, who springs to his feet, using your knife that you had dropped just as you went over the railings, he begins his own assault. The knife is pulled from James’ hand, and goes bouncing away, just as James is pushed away with the shield.

Just before, Steve can do whatever it is, he was trying to do to the computer to shut the hellicarriers down, James is back up, and propels his fist into the shield, the clang echoing off the glass dome. Once again, they engage in hand to hand combat, then James manages to grapple Steve around the waist, launching the two of them over the barrier, stopping short of the floor, landing instead on one of the iron structures. You saw the green card, that Steve had been trying to insert into the computer, land near James.

Without his shield, Steve seems well adapted to using his fists, as he beats at James’ body, leaping over him, and reaching for the hard drive. Just as he grasps it in his hand, James goes into a slide, as he stands, punching the guy in the face, making him lose his grip on the hard drive.

Pulling yourself up, you catch it just before it lands on the glass flooring. Steve; elbows James in the face, then kicks his legs out from under him, James soon joining you on the glass floor.

Steve jumped down, and you begin to run in the opposite direction, trying to reach your knife that had slipped through the grate, of the floor above you. You hear a clang behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see the deflection of the shield, that had hit Steve in the head, as he pursued you. It knocks him to the floor, long enough for you to reach your knife. You duck a little, when the sound of a gun going off, and bullets ricocheting, made you flinch.

You stand, and make a run for him, jumping up you bring the knife down into the Steve’s shoulder, he cries out, grasping hold of you, and throwing you over his shoulder, he clasps you around your neck, holding you in a headlock. Using your own hand, he overpowers you, pushing the knife away from his own chest, and towards your own. Fighting with everything you had, you try to push against his force, but it only works so well; you were successful in avoiding your chest, but not when it comes to your legs, as he pushed the knife deep into your thigh. Screaming in pain, you just about hear, James running towards you, he punches Steve in the face, stunning him, pulling you into his arms. As gently as he can, he pushes you aside, pulling the knife from your leg. You yell, briefly catching his eyes, which have a look of apology. He turns away from you, clenching your knife in the process, swinging it to and thro. He too is able to plunge the knife into Steve’s shoulder, making the guy angrily shout, before he headbutted James twice.

James pushes him away, and throws himself onto the floor, clutching the hard drive in his hands. Steve lifts James up by his neck, James gasping for air, clawing at the hand around his throat. Using his arm as leverage, Steve throws James onto his knees, holding him in a death grip.

“Drop it…drop it.”

You hear a loud crack, and your heart clenches when James cries out in agony. Changing positions, Steve locks James between his legs, his arm going around James’ neck, like he had just done to you. You can see that he is squeezing James hard; James’ face turning various shades; from a rosy pink, to a loud red, before settling on a deep purple.

You scream, when James stops fighting, you can tell he’s lost consciousness, by the way he goes lax Steve’s arms. Discarding James’ body, Steve grabs the green disc and sprints towards the core.

Your mission long forgotten, you leave him to it, as you army crawl your way towards James, whimpering as you drag your gushing wound across the glass, leaving a bloody tail behind you.

“Jay,” you call out his name, once you finally reach him, your hands going on his vest as you pull him towards you, rolling him off his front, “James, wake up my love.”

You press your ear to his chest and are relieve when you hear the thumping of his heart, as it was working harder to pump the blood. You shake him, calling his name out once again, and you could cry with joy, when he began to stir, mumbling a little, regaining consciousness.

Your feelings of elation quickly turn to anger, as you hear the voice of Steve vaguely in the distance, speaking to his own operatives. Heaving yourself to your feet, you limp over to the gun that had fallen from the balcony. From where you stand you elicit a shot that hits him directly in the leg, disabling him for a short while. When he stands again, you stagger around, trying to get another clear shot, before you discharge the weapon for a second time, this time it grazes his fingertips as he climbs the pillar. Once he gets to the core of the ship, you seize the opportunity, with him finally standing still, firing one final shot, that is a direct hit to his back. He hunches over, before collapsing onto the grate.

You see his arm go up towards the mainframe of the computer, and squeeze the trigger once again, only the weapon doesn’t discharge anymore bullets, instead it clicks fruitlessly, indicating there was no more rounds left to fire.

“Y/N…Y/N.” you snap your head in the direction of the voice that is calling your name, your eyes meeting James, as he’s pulling himself into a sitting position. You hobble towards him, crumpling to your knees when at last you are by his side, pulling him into you. His arms go around you, as he holds you just as close.

Suddenly the sound of deafening gunfire, sparks up all around you. It’s so strong that it knocks you and James over, even in your sitting and kneeling positions. You’re pulled apart by the vibrations, and even further when James shoves you out of the way, just as one of the steel fixtures comes crashing down around you, pinning James beneath it.

“James.” You wail, as he too howls in pain, the weight of the metal bearing down on him. You desperately tug at the structure, trying to free James, you ignore the banging and exploding that is happening around you.

“Y/N, go. Just go, leave me here.” James pleaded with you.

“I’m not leaving Jay, not now, not ever.” You strain as you use all your strength to try and dislodge him.

“Sweetheart you need to go, you need to go now. Please, baby.” James begs you, but you ignore him, alternating your grip to try and free him.

You hear movement behind you, your head twisting around to see that Steve had jumped from the balcony and was walking towards you.

“Y/N, look at me, look at me.” You turn back to James, your eyes brimming with tears, “you need to leave me.”

“No.” you choke out, through a sob.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be alright,” you shake your head at his words, your energy draining, both from the constant pulling of the steel, and from the loss of blood in your leg, “I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

“Stop saying that, I’m not leaving you,” you turn to see that Steve was only meters away now, “leave us alone!” you scream, “please, you’ve won. Leave us alone.”

Steve ignores you, but instead of fighting you like he thought, he knelt next to you, with his help, you both are able to heave the metal off of James, as he wriggled free, you assisting him by pulling at his vest.

You go dizzy, all of your last effort, being used up. You fall back against the floor, panting and eyes fluttering. James comes to your side, squeezing your hand.

“Y/N, Y/N sweetheart.” Your eyes are rolling in your head, but you catch a glimpse of Steve moving towards you, and you hiss when he grabs your leg.

“Get away from her.” James pushes Steve in the chest, with his non-broken arm. Steve looked upset, but not in the way most people would be, when they had just been shoved in the chest. James turns back to you, trying to rouse your consciousness.

“You know me.” You hear faintly, your head pounding, and vision blurring. You felt his hand go on your leg once again, but James is quick to act.

“No, I don’t!” he yells swinging his metal fist into Steve’s head.

“Bucky, you’ve known me your whole life.” Steve wheezes, but once again he’s cast aside by James’ arm.

“Your name is James…Buchanan…Barnes.”

“Shut up!”

Your head throbbed, as you lulled it to the side, watching the men battle it out. Steve had removed his helmet and thrown it aside.

“I’m not gonna fight you.” The man drops his shield at his feet, and stands defenceless in front of James, “you’re my friend.”

You choke, as the smoke begins to fill your lungs, and you heave onto your side trying to get away from the fire that had started not too far from your head. James glances to you, his eyes darkening when he sees your weakening state. Turning back, he charges at Steve knocking him to the ground.

“You’re my mission.” You hear him mumble, before the sound of him raining punches into the guys face fill the air, each one is punctuated with his words, “you’re. My. Mission.”

James stops, his arm is mid-air, and he’s looking down upon Steve’s face.

“Then finish it,” Steve mumbles, “because I’m with you…till the end of the line.”

Your heart stops at Steve’s words, and you can tell that James’ has too. You twist round onto your front and look up towards the two men. James had completely frozen, the man beneath him lay practically lifeless.

With all of you stunned, you don’t notice the large metal fixtures crumbling around you, until you hear the grinding of metal being bent, you turn just as a large section of the hellicarrier’s engine, came crashing down.

“James!” you called, just as it broke the glass beneath you.

It was as if time had slowed down, James watched in horror as you disappeared through the glass floor, plunging towards the water below. Only just hearing his cry of anguish, but nothing else comes to your ears, other than the sound of water rushing in your ears.

~~~~

You woke to the feeling of being lifted, your eyes squinting open, the residue of smoke and flames still visible in the sky above you. You glance up to the owner of the arms that hold you, and you breathe a sigh of relief when James’ blue eyes meet yours.

Gently, he lays you on the bank, before turning back to the water. Struggling you manage to sit up, only in time to see him, returning from the water once again, this time dragging the limp body of the man dressed in red, white and blue.

He leaves him on the bank, before he bends to lift you again, but you stop him.

“Your shoulder, my love.” You place your hand on the tender area, and you can feel the break through his vest. He grimaces, and you pull your hand away, instead grabbing his metal hand, and allowing him to help you stand.

He makes you lean heavily on him, as you limp with his staggered strides.

“Where do we go now?” he asks you.

“We’re free, baby. Anywhere we want.” You look at him a small smile on your face, one that he returns.

“Anywhere we want.”

A/N: People enjoying this story, or am I writing for an audience of one...myself? 😂

Taglist is still open, feel free to request, I say yes to everyone!!!

Part Six//

Taglist:

@amanda-the-fangirl​​​ @winchester-wifey​​​ @lemonadygirl​​​ @lunagrangerweasley​​​ @omfgforthelordalmighty​​​ @hhxppyyy​​​ @furioustrashprofessorneck​​​ @sznri​​​ @mugscraps​​​ @colourforanamee​​​ @grav3dollie-666

[megalony]

Second chances- Part 3

This is the latest part in my Billy/ Four series which I hope everyone is enjoying so far.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy

Series taglist: @multi-fandom-iimagines @dreashappyworld

Summary: (Y/n) believes being in the group is her second chance and Billy starts to believe it was his chance too as it brought (Y/n) into his life. But their newest mission is far from easy.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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"He's been under for one minute thirty, he's gonna drown." Seven whispered the words through his mic as he closed one eye, concentrating on the image across from him that was becoming increasingly worrying.

The longer he stared at Billy, the more worried he became because Billy was not a professional diver or swimmer. He wasn't trained on how to hold his breath for long periods of time and if he reached the two-minute marker he was going to pass out under the water and it would lead to him drowning.

Pressing his hands against the glass wall of the pool he was submerged under, Billy tried to see through the chlorinated water that was stinging at his eyes. He couldn't see where Seven was, nor could he properly see the building across from the one he was now on top of. Pushing himself an inch or two away from the glass, Billy fumbled with his dwindling energy and reached behind the vest and jumper he was wearing. His fingers tightly latched around the bullet he felt hanging there and he clenched it in his hand before he closed his eyes.

Billy didn't believe in luck and he didn't believe that praying ever did any good but right now he had to believe in something. This mission was already becoming a shitshow like Florence was and Billy had felt like he needed something back then to ground him.

The bullet around his neck was enough right now to make him calmer as he didn't bother to try and pray in his head or beg for his life. He simply pictured (Y/n) standing in front of him with that smile that simply made him want to trap her in his arms and kiss the life out of her.

"Four, move to the right."

Forcing his eyes open, Billy swam over to the pointed corner of the pool and wedged himself there, unsure what Seven was going to try and do. Realisation flooded through Billy when he heard the noise of the glass breaking and saw a familiar dark golden circle swim through the water. Pushing himself over, Billy pressed his lips to the crack in the glass, his head swimming too when he felt the much-needed oxygen flooding through his body and getting to his brain.

Letting go of the bullet hanging beneath his clothing, he pressed both hands to the glass as he took in enough oxygen he needed before pushing himself away from the wall when Seven told him the coast was clear.

Maybe there was some kind of luck to the bullet after all.

Getting out of the pool, Billy didn't care about the water dripping down his frame as he started to clip himself up to the wire so he could climb down the side of the building and stick the speakers to the glass so they would shatter. He had a head for heights, he kind of had to since he was the skywalker of the group but it didn't stop the nerves from shooting through him at the knowledge he was ninety stories high. The last time he was high up, clinging to the side of a building like this, he fell.

"One, I don't like this. There's more people coming up the stairs." (Y/n) whispered her words into her mic as she tore the gas mask from her face, not needing it anymore.

She pressed her back up against a bookcase with Three standing by her side, the effects of the laughing gas seemingly wearing out of his system now. There were only meant to be seven people guarding the president's brother but there had been at least twelve people they had taken out so far. And (Y/n) could hear more footsteps approaching from the stairwell. They had five more minutes until the police got here and they couldn't get back downstairs yet with all the armed guards trying to get to them.

This was supposed to be a quick in and out mission.

Get the brother, get him in the zipline and get out again but it was looking like they wouldn't be able to get out.

"I don't know where they're all coming from. Change of plans, both of you just get to the roof with Four and get on that line and get out." One couldn't risk losing anyone else on the team and he couldn't tell them to go all the way downstairs to get to the car Five was going to get ready. They would have to use the line and get to the next building and escape that way.

The moment the doors opened and a flurry of guards speeded in, (Y/n) nodded at Three. The pair of them pushed off the bookcase and started hurrying out of the small corner they had hidden away in.

(Y/n) was thankful she had put padding on her shoulder because the rather large rifle she had in her hands was pressing down on her shoulder which would create a bruise if she didn't have the extra fabric pressed under her shirt. A hiss escaped her lips when she hit one of the four statues lined up instead of a target but she soon made up for the error, sending the man smashing against the window behind him which ended with an oddly shaped splatter of blood decorating the glass.

Ducking down behind a pillar, (Y/n) threw the rifle to the side and swapped it for a handgun she had strapped to her holster on her thigh. She counted under her breath before crouching over and running from her hiding spot, sending three bullets at two targets before she managed to get to the stairs.

Her body curled up against the silver bannister as she glanced her eyes around for Three who was almost with her.

When the taller man reached her, (Y/n) spun around and started heading up the stairs, aiming her gun and firing within a second when she saw a target running down the stairs towards them. Three hurried ahead and took the lead but when he got near the top of the stairs, he and (Y/n) both stopped to listen to what Seven was talking about.

"I've got a very bad idea."

"No, no only good ideas please." One was quick to respond but even he knew that they were open for any suggestions right now because they were running out of options. They were being surrounded and it looked like their exit was going to be smothered any moment now.

"I'm open for anything, Seven do it." (Y/n) responded as she looked at Three who nodded.

"This is another shitshow, let's wrap it up quickly." Billy nodded his head at (Y/n) when he caught her eye, the president's brother close behind him as Billy had his hand scrunched up in the man's shirt to stop him from trying to run away. This was going south very quickly, whatever ideas they could have would be accepted by everyone.

"Okay, everyone grab hold of something."

(Y/n)'s eyes narrowed as she turned her head to look at Three but he didn't know what the idea was either. But the moment a rather loud, creaking sound erupted in their ears, they found themselves looking upwards towards the roof that they were so close to. Three peered up the last few steps into the night sky but he felt unable to catch a breath when he heard the glass of the swimming pool beginning to shatter from the number of fractures it was receiving.

"Holy fuck." (Y/n) felt her voice wavering as Three turned to face her and motioned with his hands for her to move rapidly. He started bounding down the stairs towards her as the unmistakable sound of water seemed to run up behind them.

A gasp left (Y/n)'s lips as both she and Three reached their arms out the moment they leapt off the fifth step. Their hands latched around the rectangular lights hanging from the ceiling as (Y/n) brought her legs up to try and wrap them around the light for added security. Her eyes managed to see Billy grabbing the target's hands and pressing them to the bannister before he did the same, holding onto one of the silver poles as he moved into a crouching position to keep himself stable.

Billy and the target were tucked into a rather neat corner so when the water hit, they wouldn't be in the middle of things.

A scream left (Y/n)'s lips as she felt the water suddenly licking at her heels before it fell like a brick wall right into her back. The momentum it held was something she had never felt before and she thought for a moment that the light fitting was surely going to break from her weight and the force and pressure of the water.

The sound of the gushing river pelted through her ears as it soaked over her and flooded beneath her feet. When she managed to open her eyes, (Y/n) saw everyone in the water's stride was getting pulled under and taken wherever the water wanted to go.

Breathing was a very hard task to come by at this point when before it had been a task (Y/n) never had to think about. She tried to keep her legs around the light fitting she was gripping to but her bad hip was straining from the position and the force of the water so she dropped her legs so she was simply hanging by her hands. Anxiety fluttered in her chest like a swarm of butterflies as she wondered how much water had been in that pool for it to be lasting this long. The stairs were no longer stairs, they were the formations of a waterfall that seemed to have an endless supply of water.

Another scream tore from (Y/n)'s lips but for a completely different reason. One of the men being taken out by the water either tried to aim his gun for the light fitting she and Three were hanging from or he simply pulled the trigger by mistake.

Either way, the unmistakable feeling of a bullet scraped past (Y/n)'s bad hip like a flash of lightning. The pressure from the water and the pain from the bullet caused (Y/n) to lose her grip on the light she was clinging to for dear life. A strangled gasp left (Y/n)'s lips as her body bashed into the counter below her before the water took hold of her like vines wrapping around her body and taking control.

(Y/n) spluttered through the water to try and keep her head above the tide so she could breathe which became easier when she started to move as the water thinned out. But there was nothing to cling on to, everything was too slippery and there was nothing stable that could hold her weight in place. Her eyes found Billy's as she scrambled to slow herself down or grab onto something but she couldn't do more than flail her arms around in distress.

Billy couldn't breathe.

He found his body burning against the cold water licking at his skin and his features growing hot and red from the fire that was burning inside him. He couldn't let go of the bannister and risk washing out of the building himself and (Y/n) was too far away for him to reach her or even try and help her. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He grabbed the bullet hanging around his neck and punctured it into the palm of his hand from the force he was holding it with.

He muttered 'second chance' to himself over and over like it was a chant that he had to make himself believe or he would go mad. His eyes watched (Y/n) intently with such a blaze of worry that he was almost looking through her.

Scanning her eyes around desperately, (Y/n) saw she was heading for the window that had no glass anymore from the objects and people that had been washed up against it and broken the glass away. Turning herself so she was laying on her side, (Y/n) stretched her arms out and held her breath in her lungs. Her gloved hands latched onto the pillar that was missing the glass to hold as she felt like she was flying when her legs and lower half suddenly propelled out of the hotel.

She could feel the air trying to hold her up but if all of her weight went out it would let her sink through its layers until she reached the ground.

Tightening her hands because of the water, (Y/n) swung around and twisted her hands as she felt her legs hit through the other empty windowpane and land on the concrete floor. She quickly pulled her legs up to her stomach and curled her body up against the small metal pillar that she clung to as the rest of the water washed past her like it no longer held any interest in her.

Billy let out a breath of utter relief when he saw (Y/n) fly around the outside before swinging herself back inside. When he saw she was safely curled up, he let out the breath he had trapped in his lungs and loosened his grip on the bullet that he knew had to have some sort of luck in it.

"You drowned the team." One muttered as he shook his head in disbelief, wondering how on Earth the team managed to survive through Seven's suicide mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean you're leaving the team?" There was a tone of disbelief in One's voice as he scoffed like she had just told him a lie that he could see right through.

"Take a guess, jackass." (Y/n) snapped back as she leaned her head to the side, an unamused and very irritated expression on her face as she felt herself deflating like a popped balloon. There was really only one thing that (Y/n) could mean by saying she wanted to leave the team so either One was having a very stupid moment here or he was simply refusing to believe what she was telling him.

"And where are you going, what will you do? I hate to have to remind you but you don't have an identity anymore. You can't go back into the world without one." His words rung true but they failed in comparison to what it meant by staying in the team if things weren't going to change.

(Y/n) didn't want to be apart of something that would leave someone behind at the first sign of danger. She couldn't be part of this team that didn't value anyone and didn't care or even have respect for them. This was not how things should be and (Y/n) would rather face the world again without her identity than risk spending the rest of her life in this dysfunctional group.

"You can if you know the right people." (Y/n) retorted, but her words weren't as fuelled as her previous ones had been. She knew it would be relatively easy to create a new life for herself, she was just not in the mood for an argument she knew was going to take place.

"Why give everything up to just quit now? We've all given our lives up, Two. We all knew what we were walking into, you think because things get hard it will be easy to walk away?" One threw his arms out at his sides as he couldn't understand her logic. He had given his life up as well, they had all thrown their lives away to do this and they all knew it would be hard. (Y/n) knew like the rest of them that doing this meant there was almost no chance of getting a normal life or leaving this without actually dying.

"I'll tell you why. I walked into this thinking that if I was in some sort of danger, you all would have my back. I thought that if I got into trouble, no worries, I've got five other idiots around to help me but no. We all follow you're fucking rules and you say that if someone is in danger, then fuck them. Leave them like they're already dead and just keep on walking. Well guess what, I don't roll that way."

(Y/n) shouted the words before pressing her hand into his chest and shoving him away from her.

(Y/n) thought that this was a proper team, a proper family that she was joining but it wasn't. It was a group ruled by a jackass who decided that instead of helping one of their own, they would leave them to perish and act like they never existed. He thought that giving everyone a number and degrading them to simply a number and a status such as Doctor or Skywalker was enough. He thought that was fine and taking away their humanity was okay because they were doing something good.

But they were still alive, they were still people and they still deserved to talk and act like they were human beings. And they deserved to be helped by the other people on their team that they were meant to trust.

"It's for safety-"

"I don't give a shit, One! If Five falls, I will help her up. If you are trapped I will go back and save your ass. And if Four is being beaten to a pulp on top of a building I expect you to stop the bloody car and help him because this is what we do. You say we need everyone on the team to do this mission but you act like we are all replaceable and that is not right. I'm not being a part of a group that has no morals but a hell of a lot of rules that make no sense. If you don't have my back, I'm not joining in and being expected to have yours."

One was the person who was acting like they were all replaceable but they weren't. There were not many other people in the world that would give up their lives to join a suicide mission like this. They were all needed and leaving someone for dead wasn't the way to go about things.

If he didn't value their safety or have the compassion to go back for his team then (Y/n) was not going to be part of a team and be expected to respect and help One. She was not letting him act like Kingpin and the top man when his rules were not there to keep them safe, they were there to stop minor complications that were not life-threatening or threats to the mission.

"She's right." Billy folded his arms over his chest as he finally lifted his head and looked over at One who simply rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to be grateful to her-"

"No, he should be grateful to me for saving his ass. What's the point in doing this together if we're not allowed to help each other out? You've got us pitted against each other to the point we may as well be doing this on our own because we only share the same plan, other than that we fend for ourselves and you know it. I'm with her, if you don't change things we'll walk." Seven spoke up despite the welling anxiety in his chest.

He had shot the man attacking Billy and had stopped the car when (Y/n) shouted at him to do so and to wait and help Billy. He had been in the military and that was a family. They went back for each other and they helped each other out, he wasn't being a part of this if the same rules didn't apply.

One sighed, tipping his head down as he knew whatever he said was going to be shot down.

"Alright, fine. What do you want to change?"

[averykedavra]

Leave No Trace (Chap. 12)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

That night was another late one for Patton. This time, Janus and Virgil didn't stay up with him. They were tired from the previous night, and Patton encouraged Janus to rest to help his wing heal, so they'd gone to sleep. Patton stayed awake, of course. It was a nice night to be up. The sky was clear and Patton even spotted a few shooting stars between the constellations. He tried to name them, but his glasses were off and they were all blurry. When he put his glasses back on, he ended up just counting the stars, working his way from one side of the sky to the other.

Patton had counted seven hundred and twelve stars when something rustled. He pulled himself upright and looked around. Janus had climbed to his feet, kicking at his sleeping bag and stretching. He glanced around, ran his hands through his hair, and started watching the side of the path. The trees hung close together here, moss soaking the floor, roots lampooning little sections of pure white flowers.

"Janus?" Patton asked after a few minutes. Janus hadn't moved. He'd just stood there, watching the Woods, completely still.

"Janus?" Patton asked again, something in his stomach going cold.

Janus didn't respond. He didn't even twitch. It was like he'd become a statue.

Then he jerked back to life. "No!" he exclaimed. "No! Not happening! Nice try!"

"What?" Patton asked, frowning and climbing to his feet.

"Wh—" Janus whirled. "Oh. It's just…hello, Pat."

"What's wrong?" Patton asked.

"Nothing," Janus said. He glanced behind him at the Woods. "I just—"

His voice trailed off. And he was still again, stiff as the trees around them, watching something Patton couldn't see.

"Janus?" Patton asked yet again. He stepped forward and reached for Janus' hand. Before he reached Janus, Janus began to walk away.

Walked off the path.

What?

Patton blinked and rubbed his eyes. Yep. Janus had walked straight off the path, stepping over the little barrier of iron, slipping between two tree trunks.

"Janus!" Patton yelled.

Janus didn't turn around.

Patton raced to the edge of the path. Janus was picking his way between trees, stepping over the roots without looking at them. He wasn't watching his step, Patton noticed vaguely, which wasn't right. All of this wasn't right! Why would Janus just leave the path? He'd die! Why was he—

"Janus!" Patton almost screamed, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Janus didn't seem to hear him at all.

That's when Patton noticed the faint light ahead of Janus, shimmering and soft like a little bouncing orb, floating between the trees. It ducked under a vine and Janus followed, one hand holding a branch to keep himself steady, looking for all the world like he was leading the way down a path. Not following a strange light into the Woods.

Patton shook his head. He knew what this was. It was on the tip of his tongue, he'd heard stories about this exact thing, why couldn't he remember—

"Virgil!" he decided to yell instead.

Virgil made a grumbly noise. "What?" he asked his pillow.

"Virgil!" Patton pleaded again. His voice cracked. "Get up!"

Virgil must have heard the urgency in Patton's tone. He fumbled his way upright and rubbed his eyes, staring at Patton. "What's up?" he asked.

"Janus," Patton said, pointing. "He left the path."

"What? No he didn't. Why would he—" Virgil walked over and squinted between the trees. "No way."

"It's a trap." Patton bit his lip. "It's gotta be."

"Yeah. That's a will o' the wisp. I've heard the stories." Virgil frowned. "Janus! You idiot, you're the one who told us not to go off the path!"

"He can't hear you," Patton said miserably.

Virgil stared at Janus' disappearing figure. "What do we do?"

Patton could have said 'leave.' He almost did. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not for the reasons he expected. Because…because Janus didn't deserve to die.

"I know that face," Virgil said. "Can't even see it, it's so dark, but I know it."

Patton walked over to his knapsack, grabbed his flint and a candle, and carefully lit the candle. It warmed his palms. It looked similar to the will o' the wisp, except somehow softer, more yellow.

"I'll be back soon," Patton said. "He's…he's injured. If I can get him to look away, we should be fine."

"Yeah, and what about all the other stuff in the Woods?" Virgil huffed. "I don't like this."

"You never do, kiddo." Patton held the candle in front of him, joining Virgil at the edge of the path. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, you will. 'Cause I'm coming with you." Virgil grabbed his crossbow off the ground. "Let's go."

"You're—" Patton swallowed. The overwhelming gratitude and worry made him speechless. Finally, he stammered out "Thank you? Why do you need the crossbow?"

"I'll bash monsters over the head with it," Virgil explained. "Maybe I'll find more bolts later."

Patton nodded. "You're sure about this?"

"Deadly sure."

"Don't say it like that," Patton said, watching the flickering light catch on the crystallized iron. It made it look like the trees themselves were molten iron, catching fire in the dead of night. "Janus will be fine, and we'll be fine. It's just in and out. Grab him and go. How hard can it be?"

"I'm not gonna answer that." Virgil lifted one foot and hovered over the edge of the path. "On three?"

"No time." Patton watched as Janus faded into the mist. "Now."

Virgil put his foot down. Patton followed.

And they made their way off the path.

It felt wrong. Viscerally, terribly wrong. All of Janus' warnings came to the surface. Watch your step. Stay on the path. He remembered the ghost stories they'd told a night ago. He remembered the warnings his moms had given him. He remembered the snake with silver scales and huge eyes, the spiders crawling over his skin and through his eyes, the gryphons with their golden claws and huge wings. This was the Woods. This was the wild, untarnished, craggy Woods. This was what parents told their kids about to make them eat their vegetables. This was the kind of place where anything could happen. This was full of magic—Patton could feel it strumming in the air like a plucked string, twisting in his ears and buzzing in his throat, thrumming in the soles of his feet. He swallowed and tasted ash, iron, and gold.

He held up the candle. It cast deep shadows on the leaves and branches around them, and did nothing to illuminate the roots by their feet. Patton tripped once, twice, three times. He swore the roots were moving when he didn't look.

He glanced back at the path. He could barely see it.

It was fine. A straight line. In and out—they'd be fine.

Janus would tell them to run. Janus would tell them to go back on the path. Janus would tell them they were idiots, that they were signing their death warrants, that they had to watch their step and escape now or they were going to die in these leaves and sink into this bark.

But Janus wasn't here to say that. Janus was far ahead of them, slipping between the trees like he'd done it all his life, chasing a small dot of light. Patton looked away as quickly as he saw it, but he still caught a little whisper of temptation.

Come on. Take a risk. It will only take a minute.

Patton shook off the little voice and picked up the pace. Virgil followed, aiming his crossbow at the shadows, despite the fact that it was empty. His eyes were narrowed, his knuckles were white on the wood, and he was chewing on his lip. Patton couldn't blame him.

Up ahead, Janus tripped for the first time. Patton winced as he slammed into a tree nearby. Little leaves fell around him, black as ebony, rustling softly in the breeze. Janus didn't seem perturbed. He picked himself up and kept walking.

Patton opened his mouth to call Janus' name. The words died on his lips. He didn't like the idea of calling attention to himself. He didn't want to catch the attention of whatever was lurking in these Woods.

And things were lurking, all right. The shadows were peeling away. Patton glimpsed a great black dog, larger and shaggier and skinnier than the dogs in town, with gleaming white teeth and bloodred eyes. There was a bleached-clean bird with feathers as white as polished bone and eye sockets that dripped black ink. There was a mask, cracked and shattered at the edges, held in place by drifting silver ribbons, bearing a painted smile and one yellow eye. There was a twisted muscle-bound creature with hair cascading around its feet in a waterfall, six fingers on each hand, no skin and bone, only flesh knotted in an approximation of a human shape. There were dark eyes, light eyes, thin eyes, eyes that hypnotized Patton when he looked their way, eyes that narrowed and disappeared, eyes that glowed in the light, eyes close to the ground and eyes far up in the treetops and eyes too big for any human's, orange eyes and silver eyes and black eyes and golden eyes and red eyes, slit pupils and fiery coronas and leaking retinas and dark shadows and pointed eyelashes and no irises at all. Patton wasn't sure how many of them he was making up and imagining. Maybe he was dreaming half of them up. Maybe his mind was creating something from nothing, twisting the shadows into creatures from horror stories, the drawings that his moms always skipped in the storybooks. Or maybe it was all real. Maybe the creeping feeling of being watched was real, the chill splashing down his spine was real, the goosebumps on his arms were real, the shivering of his hands was real. The candle flame jumped and danced in front of him, the only thing keeping him going.

Janus kept walking ahead of them. Shadows lurked around him, bubbling and beckoning, reaching out to taste his shoulder or feel his arm. He didn't seem to notice.

Patton grabbed Virgil's hand—it was cold, damp, and trembling, and Patton was sure his was the same—and pulled them along. They stumbled and bumbled and bumped their way along. The candle sputtered in the wind. Janus grew closer, lit by the orb dipping around the trees, eerie yellow-green light making his skin look waxy.

The trees seemed to be closing in on them all. The shadows seemed to be reaching out for them. Patton felt hands on his neck, but when he turned around, there was nothing. Virgil said something and the words snapped halfway through, falling to the ground in shambles. Virgil tried again, and this time, the words were carried by the wind, brushed into a corner and hidden away.

Patton tried to speak and his lips lost the words as soon as they appeared. Virgil? Are you okay?

"Virgil?" asked the ground in Patton's voice.

"I don't like this," Virgil responded, except it wasn't Virgil. The trees were saying it, Virgil's rough voice dipping into the creaks and cracks of the bark.

Virgil-Virgil-Virgil?

Patton?

Virgil—don't—Patton!—okay?

Virgil opened his mouth to speak again and slapped his own hand over it. Patton followed suit, jamming his mouth shut. His own voice echoed around him as he broke into a run. Virgil followed. Together, they bolted between trees, tripping over roots and somehow managing to stay untangled, whispers in their ears and tingling fingers swiping at their skin.

"Janus!" Patton cried.

Janus, Janus, Janus, mocked the wind. Janus slipped between two trees and disappeared.

Patton didn't hesitate. He threw himself after Janus. And he stumbled into a clearing.

In it were the largest trees he'd ever seen.

In the darkness, they appeared black. Little glowing rivers of iron cascaded around them like waterfalls, dangling from their limbs, a curtain of silver. They were old and gnarled. Patton stepped forward and saw five, ten, fifteen trees. They all twisted to the sky and bled iron. They filled the clearing, surrounded by little gray flowers and damp grass. Before Patton was a small path through them.

Beyond that? An old chair, cracked and crumbling, made of marble and granite and sliced in the shape of spider legs.

Oh, no.

"Janus!" Virgil yelled, pushing past Patton and running to Janus, who was halfway down the aisle. He grabbed Janus' shoulder and yanked him backwards.

"Hey," Janus complained, turning around and swatting at Virgil. "What's your deal? I—"

"You're okay!" Patton broke into a grin, running over and grabbing Janus' hand. "Come on. We need to go. Now."

"What's happening?" Janus frowned, looking around them. "What—where did you take me? What did you do?"

"What did we do?" Virgil repeated.

"You must have done something!" Janus stared at the huge trees looming over them. "Where are we?"

"You stepped off the path, idiot." Virgil gestured violently to the chair. "And this is really creepy so we need to go now."

"I didn't—" Janus blinked a few times. "I…I did? I did. I—oh, no."

"It wasn't your fault, you got tricked." Patton tugged at Janus' hand. "We should go! Now!"

Virgil ran over to the trees. "Wait. Go where?"

Patton's heart sank.

"Oh, come on." Janus groaned. "You forgot where you came in?"

"We came in across from this aisle!" Patton pointed. "In between those trees."

"Yeah," Virgil said, motioning to the trees, "they're not letting us back out."

Patton looked closer. The trees had melted into each other, branches slotting into place. It looked like the wall of a nest. He ran along the edge and found that all the other trees had done the same thing. They were hemmed in.

They were trapped.

"Oh no," Patton whispered.

"Yeah, understatement of the century!" Virgil's voice pitched upwards in panic. "Can we climb it?"

Janus was already trying to scramble up the wall. A few branches whipped out and lashed his skin. One cracked against the back of skull and sent him plummeting to the ground. He stood up again, rubbing his head. "Nope."

"Oh no," Patton said again. "Oh no, oh no, oh no—"

"Stop freaking out!" Virgil said, his hands starting to shake. "It's freaking me out!"

"Kind of hard not to freak out," Janus snapped.

"I—" Patton started walking down the aisle. That stupid will o' the wisp was still dancing between the trees, and as it lit the trees nearby, he noticed that the whorls and loops and divots in the wood weren't random. He looked closer. Yes, that was an eye! And that was a nose, and that—

Oh no.

"Oh no," Patton said out loud, because why not?

"What is it," Janus said, sounding like he didn't want to know the answer.

"Look," Patton said, pointing.

And the entire place was lit up by a million fireflies.

Virgil yelped. Suddenly they were all bathed in yellow-green light, standing in the trees, watching little orbs flit around the leaves. A few settled around the throne on the dais, like little flowers, and others wobbled through the air like butterflies. Patton reached up and let one land on his hand. It tickled and made him feel dizzy. Then it flew away.

"This—" Janus' voice was choked. Patton whirled around. "This is…really, really bad."

Virgil nodded. Patton saw from their expressions that they'd seen what he'd seen.

In each of the trees was a person.

They looked like they'd been carved out of the wood. Like the figureheads on a front of a boat. The one nearest to Patton was a young woman, her nose firm and a scar lining her cheek, hair flowing into the wood with no join line. Her dress brushed the grass and her arm reached out into nothing. She looked like she'd been trapped there. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.

The next tree was an older man. Then a child. Then a person in armor, then a shepherd, then a Faerie with piercing eyes and a bitter smile. They stretched around them, like a congregation before the queen, hands outstretched and faces stuck in horror.

"Alright," Virgil said faintly, "who's all for leaving? Like, right now?"

"Sounds good to me," Janus said, backing towards the edge of the clearing.

"Where are you going?" Patton asked. "We—there's no way out."

"There has to be!" Janus turned around, looking desperately for an exit. "There has to—we need to leave."

"This is so creepy," Virgil muttered, looking around at all the faces staring at them. "Like, I hate this."

"Stop looking," Patton advised, but he knew Virgil couldn't. Patton couldn't, either. He wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the faces twisted into the trees.

"Hey, that's weird," Virgil said, stepping forward.

"No!" Janus snarled. "No 'hey that's weird!' That is the sentence people say before disaster strikes!"

"I know," Virgil protested. "I was just looking over here. This tree doesn't have anyone on it. Maybe on the other side?"

He placed a hand on the tree and looked around at the other side. "Nope!"

"Kiddo," Patton said, his heart pounding, "get back here."

"Yeah, I see what you mean, there's just more dead people." Virgil turned around and walked toward Patton again.

He stopped a few steps in. Then he tried again. Something seemed to stop him. Virgil turned to his arm, still pressed against the tree trunk. He tugged. Nothing happened.

Patton's veins turned to ice.

"What did you do?" Janus whispered.

"I-I don't know." Virgil tried to peel his hand off the tree. "It won't move! It's stuck!"

Patton ran forward and tried to tug at Virgil. Virgil didn't move. It was like something was keeping him in place.

The tips of his fingers turned brown.

"No." Virgil started tugging harder, his eyes wild. "No, no, no!"

"Virgil!" Patton yelled. He grabbed wildly at Virgil's jacket and caught his sleeve. He pulled as hard as he could. He might as well have been trying to move a tree.

"I—no—" Virgil braced himself on the tree with one foot. The foot sunk into the tree, little tendrils of wood climbing up his leg. His whole hand was covered now. It reminded Patton of a glove. "No! I can't—Patton!"

"I'm trying!" Patton half-sobbed. "Janus!"

Janus appeared at his shoulder, reaching out but not touching Virgil. "Are you an idiot?" he yelled at Virgil, grabbing a rock off the ground and trying to chip away at the wood. "Why did you touch that?"

Virgil growled as the wood reached his elbow. "Well, you're the one who followed a random light! You're the one who told us no doing that!"

"I wasn't in control of myself!" Janus almost screamed. "You just touched a tree in a magical courtyard!"

"I didn't know it would do this!" The relentless chipping away was doing nothing. Virgil tried to twist away, but the wood climbed up him. His hand was intricately carved wood. His sleeve turned to bark. "Janus, help!"

"I'm trying!" Janus said desperately. Patton kept tugging, like that would do something, but he knew it wouldn't.

"So stupid," Janus muttered, tossing the rock aside and looking wildly around. "Idiot, you're such an idiot, you're going to get yourself killed—"

Virgil made a small noise that might have been a sob. "I know! I'm sorry!"

Janus looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I'm sorry," Virgil repeated, pulling at the tree, eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"Stop talking," Janus whispered, sliding his hands around Virgil's waist. They fit snugly above Patton's own. They tugged together. Nothing. Patton knew it would be nothing. But he couldn't just stop tugging. He couldn't let go. Not yet, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry!" Virgil pleaded, a few tears escaping down his face. "Janus, I'm sorry!"

"I know. I know." Janus shook his head. "I know."

"Come on, kiddo," Patton choked out, his throat sticky and rough. "Come on!"

"Pat—" Virgil almost screamed as the wood crept up his chest.

"Kiddo, it's okay," Patton said. It was the farthest from okay he'd ever been. "Come on. Come on."

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, grabbing at Patton and Janus' arms with his only arm. Trying to push them away.

Janus swallowed. "I forgive you."

And his hands closed over Patton's, tearing Patton away from Virgil and sending them crashing to the ground.

When Patton jumped to his feet again, Virgil was gone.

In his place was a statue, bleeding into the wood of the tree, one hand clasped to his chest, crossbow slung over his shoulder and bangs covering his eyes.

Patton instinctively reached out. Janus caught his hand.

"Virgil—" Patton shook his head. "Virgil!"

"Stay back," Janus said, trying to drag Patton away. "You shouldn't touch him."

"He's hurt!" Patton shook Janus off. "Virgil!"

"We can't do anything!"

"You don't know that!"

"I do!" Janus took a deep breath. "Pat. We have to go. Now."

"Go where?" Patton demanded, his eyes burning and his cheeks red. "Go where? We're trapped."

"We need to try." Janus tugged at Patton's hand. "Please. Please, or we're going to be next."

"We can't just leave him!" Patton knew he was yelling, but he was too desperate to care. "He needs us!"

"Well, we need to stay alive!" Janus gave one last glance at Virgil. "Patton!"

"No!" Patton ripped his hand out of Janus'. "I'm not leaving, Jan!"

"You're going to die!" Janus said desperately. "We're all going to die if you don't—"

Patton opened his mouth to respond. Something rustled between his feet. He looked down and yelped. A small black spider had crawled out of the tree, skittering its way along the grass, barely visible in the light of the fireflies.

Patton looked around at the trees carved with limbs and blank eyes and screaming mouths, the aisle leading to the dais, the silvery throne that looked like a spider.

I'll see you soon.

Oh.

"Of course," Patton spat. "Of course."

"What?" Janus asked, reaching for Patton's hand again. Patton stepped away from him.

"It's her." Patton shook his head. His face was twisted in what might have been a grin. It didn't feel like one. "Of course it's her—I should have known. Damn it!"

"Hey," Janus said, his eyes blown wide, looking at Patton like he was the dragon. Like Patton was dangerous. "I don't know what you're saying, but we need to get out—"

Patton wasn't listening. He was thinking. He was running through everything he knew. Virgil was trapped. Hurt. Not—not dead, just asleep? It was a spell. Which meant it had to be reversible. Was that how spells worked? Did it matter? There was a possibility it was reversible. Which was enough.

Patton swallowed. "Hello?" he asked the trees around them.

No one answered.

Well, Janus did. By pausing in his rant, giving Patton an incredulous look, and redoubling his efforts to drag Patton out of the clearing. It was a good thing he was injured, or he would have long succeeded. As it was, Patton was able to deftly slip out of his grasp.

Calling for the Faerie wouldn't work. He'd just have to get her attention in another way.

He ran down the aisle to the dais. Trees swayed around him. Fireflies lit his way.

"What are you doing?" Janus yelled behind him.

"Sitting on the chair," Patton yelled back, the words tumbling from his mouth. He skidded to a stop at the foot of the dais. It was made of earth and grass packed tightly together into something approximating stairs. He took them one at a time until he was standing on top of the dais, facing the chair. It was a little bigger than him but not by much. He reached out and touched the side. Nothing happened. The material was cool and reminded him of spider silk.

"Why are you—Patton!"

Patton looked down to see Janus standing at the foot of the dais, hair tangled around his face, cheeks pale.

"Get down!" Janus ordered.

Patton stuck his tongue out at Janus.

"You're going to—do you even know what that could do—"

Patton decided not to listen anymore. He needed to get the Faerie's attention, and sitting in her throne seemed like a pretty good way to do that.

Before Janus or his mind could talk him out of it, he turned around and sat in the chair.

And the bottom fell out from the world.

Patton couldn't describe it. Everything still looked the same—there was Janus, frantically yelling at him, and there were the trees around them, and there were the twisted figures of travelers long-gone, and there was Virgil with his crossbow and his bangs immortalized in wood, and there was the edge of the clearing with the walls of branches, and there were the stars still twinkling in the night sky. But something was different. Off. Fundamentally wrong, like he'd torn a veil aside to reveal another layer of reality, like time was moving too fast and too slow all at once.

All the fireflies winked out.

All the trees rustled as one. And Patton could almost make out the words. He could almost understand the way their roots curled into the soil, the way the wind dashed along the ground, the way the stars dripped down from the sky. Everything was spinning. Voices clamored in his ear. The ground stretched away beneath him and the bark peeled away and he saw the iron climbing through the roots and veins of each tree like a poison, hemming him in, robbing him of breath.

The sky was lengthening and the world was stretching and he felt in a million places at once.

And then the air rushed back into place, the roots stopped squirming and whispering, the leaves stilled in the wind, the iron faded from view. Patton doubled over in the chair, feeling about to hurl, his heart hammering like he'd just run a race, his eyes itching and refusing to settle in his skull.

He heard his name. Someone was calling his name. He looked up to see Janus dashing up the dais, looking panicked.

"What happened?" Patton rasped, wiping at his mouth and feeling his legs wobble back into position. That was weird. He didn't realize his legs were wrong.

"I don't know," Janus said. "There was wind, and then your eyes started…glowing? The same color as the fireflies."

"The—" Patton looked around. He'd sworn the fireflies had gone out. He'd seen them go out! But they lazily swam around, as alive as ever.

"I—" Patton swallowed the bile in his throat. "I'm gonna get off this now."

"Good idea," Janus agreed.

Patton pushed himself forward and prepared to stand up.

"What are you doing in my chair?"

Patton made a strangled scream and practically fell off. Janus grabbed him and stopped him from plummeting off the dais entirely.

The Faerie was standing there, looking the same as ever, leaning on the back of the throne and giving Patton a vaguely curious look.

"Sorry!" Patton squeaked out, trying to back up as much as possible without falling off. "Um. My bad? I just—I just wanted to get your attention, I'm sorry, it's yours now!"

"My attention," the Faerie repeated, and oh no. She was starting to smirk.

"Yes," Patton said.

"No," Janus said at the same time.

The Faerie raised her eyebrow. "Conflicting stories, I see."

"We don't want your attention," Janus said, grabbing Patton's arm and trying to pull them both down the dais. "Apologies for bothering you, continue doing Faerie things, we will see you again never, have a horrible day."

"Jan—" Patton carefully slid out of Janus' grip. "She can help!"

"Help with what, our demise?"

Patton turned to the Faerie. "This is your court, right?"

"You could say that." The Faerie slipped around the chair and fell into it, kicking one leg up over the side, running her fingers along the armrest. "It's certainly not what it used to be."

"Right." Patton nodded. "So, um, you control the evil magic trees, right?"

"No one controls anything in these Woods. It's every creature for themselves." The Faerie's lips tilted in that smug smile again, and Patton felt a mixture of baseless anger and blind terror.

"But you can undo what they do," Patton prompted, forcing down the tumultuous emotions in his chest. "Right?"

"I'm capable of a lot of things." She nodded. "That is one of them."

"Great." Patton pointed at the tree with Virgil in it. "Turn him back. Now."

"Pat," Janus hissed between gritted teeth, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to order around the Faerie."

"Do we have a choice?" Patton muttered back.

"Who?" the Faerie asked, mock incomprehension on her face. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Virgil," Patton said, his voice snapping in the middle of the name. "Bring him back."

"Oh, no!" The Faerie pressed a hand to her mouth. "Your friend was turned to wood? How awful!"

"Shut up," Patton growled, "and turn him back now."

"Pat," Janus tried to say.

"You shut up too," Patton added, shooting Janus a glare. "We need to fix him!"

"A noble cause indeed." The Faerie grabbed a lock of hair and combed her fingers through it. She seemed completely unbothered by the situation, like this happened every night, or like she'd rehearsed for a play they were now performing. "Unfortunately, I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" Patton insisted. All the fear was gone now. It was just desperation. He couldn't leave Virgil behind. Virgil couldn't be—he wouldn't let—he had to do something.

"I mean, I don't want to," the Faerie said simply. "So I won't bother."

"You—" Patton wanted to scream in frustration. "You jerk!"

"It's survival, little Fae. Only do what serves yourself." She nodded in Janus' direction. "He knows what I mean."

"Look." Janus had apparently given up on trying to shepherd Patton away. "Can you let us out of here?"

"I'd rather not, personally." The Faerie grinned widely. "You're much more interesting in my web than outside of it."

Patton's eyes burned, whether with anger or tears or residual magic from the throne, he wasn't sure. "Well, that's stupid! You gave us food and everything—why help us if you're going to just let us die?"

"Oh, but starvation isn't entertaining at all!" she protested.

"And just turning someone to a tree is?" Janus countered.

"I think so!" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I mean, did you see the looks on your faces? Little Fae, you seemed especially choked up—maybe I'll kill your other friend next and see how you react with no one behind you."

Rage bubbled up Patton's throat. "I'm gonna—you—" He clenched his fists and longed for the ability to punch her in the face. "I hate you!"

"Why are you doing this?" Janus asked. "We—you don't gain anything from this. We could destroy you or your throne. Why can't you leave us alone?"

"I'm bored." The Faerie shrugged. "And it's good practice! It's important not to get rusty, you know."

"Practice?" Patton asked warily. "For what?"

"Oh, practice for when I eventually break out of this cursed prison and destroy humanity and dragons alike." She smiled. "You know how it is."

"I don't," Janus said in a somewhat strangled voice. "As a matter of fact."

"Like you don't deserve it." Her voice was starting to drop from its carefully cheery register. "Like the Fae haven't been attacked by you and your actions."

"Oh." Patton frowned. "Is this—are you—I kind of get that. But, y'know, taking out your anger on innocent people isn't—"

"Innocent?" she repeated, fangs gleaming. "You left us to die in these Woods!"

Patton flinched.

"You chained us here," the Faerie continued, her eyes starting to burn black. "You poisoned these lands with your iron and you shackled us to this dirt. You crowded all magical beings alike into a space with no room to grow. You burned our skin with iron and stole any merriment from our days until half of us faded into the trees for good. And then you had the insolence to cast us as the villains? You tried to destroy us!"

"Well." Patton smiled sheepishly. "Um, that wasn't us personally?"

"It was your kind. Humans. And dragons."

Patton had never heard someone say dragons with such vitriol. And he'd been friends with Virgil for years.

"Dragons should take pity on us," the Faerie continued, knuckles white on her throne, staring Janus down with blazing eyes. "Imagine me, asking for pity, but it would have saved us. They could have stood behind their magical brethren. Instead, they built our prison walls higher. Only because they were too cowardly to allow us to exist, too afraid that we might knock them from their pitiful pedestal, too weak to ever fight back if we decided to erase them from the earth."

Janus swallowed. "I—to repeat Pat's words, that was not me personally?"

"If given the chance, however, you'd take their side."

"I—" Janus balled his fists and stood up taller. "We want to survive. You would have wiped us all out—you still would if we let you. You just admitted that. It's—it's nothing personal to want to keep ourselves safe."

"Hmm." The Faerie's mouth opened, needle-sharp teeth gleaming. "Then it will be nothing personal for me to rip you both to shreds."

"Wait," Patton protested, stepping forward, having no idea what he was going to say next but feeling he had to say something.

"I suppose you'll condemn me, too?" the Faerie asked, rounding on Patton. "I know your type. You think you're so much better than us only because you've managed to stay 'good' and 'pure.' Trust me, if you were in my situation, if your Fae blood had given you more than a speech impediment, you'd be a little less hung up on ethics."

"We—" Patton took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you—really, I am! But—taking your anger out on us isn't going to help anything!"

"Who said I was out to help?" The Faerie bared her teeth. "I remember saying the exact opposite."

"Look." Patton held up his hands. "We're—we're headed to the dragons. We're trying to figure out how to stop them from burning our towns, get our friends back…we could add 'how to help everyone in the Woods' to the mix. If you want?"

"And what will that do?" she asked. "Only a Faerie can undo a Faerie's work! Not even that! This place is entrenched in the fabric of magic itself. The iron is embedded in the structure of the Woods. You can't simply squash it out of existence like an irritating bug."

"That's not what I'm saying?" Patton paused. "Okay. Maybe that's kind of what I'm saying. But it could still be possible. We could make this place a little less mean, or try to make it bigger, or—"

"You can't."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!" The Faerie waved her hand and laughed a bit. "I created this place, and not even I could destroy it! You may have big words, little Fae, but they mean less than nothing."

There was silence for a very long time.

"What?" Patton finally asked, his voice quiet.

"You…" Several emotions flashed over Janus' face. "What?"

"You created the Woods?" Patton shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "No! You're—but that doesn't—"

"Oh, little Fae," the Faerie said, her smile widening, "you didn't know? I built this place. I regret it now, of course—hundreds of years will do that to someone. But yes, this was all my creation."

Janus gave Patton a quick look. Patton didn't know what it meant, but he could make a guess.

He had a Fae ancestor. It was likely that his ancestor might have built one of the Iron Woods. This Faerie had built the Iron Woods nearest to his town.

Did that mean—

No.

"Why would you create these Woods?" Janus asked slowly. "I understand that you might have grown to regret it, but what would motivate you in the first place?"

"I've always been a bit of a rebel," the Faerie admitted, looking simultaneously proud and resentful. "I never quite got along with most of the other Fae—I thought them dreadfully dull—and I figured I could knock them down a peg." She kicked out one leg. "Besides, I had a partner back then, a child—things were different."

"A child," Janus said, and Patton felt Janus' gaze on his neck. He pointedly didn't turn around. "You had a family?"

"For lack of a better word." The Faerie chuckled. "I'm not exactly the quintessential family man and I never planned to settle down afterwards. They're all long dead now, of course. I don't feel any particular desire to think about them much. It's like I said—hundreds of years will do that to someone."

Patton glanced down at his feet to make sure he was standing on solid ground. He was. And he wasn't in that chair anymore. So why did he feel so unmoored, like he was in the middle of an ocean, buffeted by waves he couldn't see?

"You—I—" Patton's voice was shaky. He took another breath and tried again. "We're—"

"Spit it out, little Fae," the Faerie instructed.

"I think…" Patton swallowed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Never mind."

"Well, now you've got me curious!" She leaned forward, chin in her hand. "What doesn't matter?"

Patton gritted his teeth but the words spilled out anyway. "I-think-we-might-be-related."

"Related?" the Faerie repeated, face unreadable.

"Yeah?" Patton found himself rubbing at his sleeves, biting his lip, and staring at his feet. "At least—it's possible. You—you had a family, and the timing works out, and—yeah."

The Faerie was silent for a few seconds. "It's definitely possible," she finally agreed. "Maybe we are related. I don't suppose it matters either way."

"Yeah," Patton agreed, but his stomach rolled and the lie surely showed on his face.

"It matters to you," the Faerie amended, "clearly. But it hardly matters to me. Family or not, it impacts nothing. I'm still going to kill both of you slowly and painfully."

"Wonderful," Janus muttered. "Pat, this is when we run."

"Run where?" Patton hissed back. "And we still haven't helped Virgil!"

"For the last time!" Janus whirled on Patton. "There is nothing we can do for Virgil! Sorry to break it to you, but we're all going to die!"

"Listen to him," the Faerie advised. "He's making the first good point all night."

"You have to help us," Patton pleaded, turning back to her. His eyes were prickling with tears. He'd be humiliated at the idea of crying in front of her if this had not been possibly the worst night of his life. "Please. I—I'll do whatever, please let us all go!"

"You really want this," the Faerie said.

"Yes," Patton agreed. Probably a bad idea. But he had nothing left to lose.

"Well, then. You want something, I want something, we're at an impasse." She looked at Janus. "I'm sure your clever, cynical little friend can tell you what should be done."

"I—" Janus' face twisted. "Find something she wants so we can trade. But that's not happening."

"Something she wants," Patton repeated.

"Pat," Janus said. A warning.

Patton was way past listening to Janus.

"What do you want?" Patton asked the Faerie. "What can I trade you for Virgil?"

"I don't know," the Faerie mused, and by her expression she did know and was just toying with him and this was probably what she's wanted all along. "What do you have to give me?"

Patton cast around for an answer. And of course there was the obvious one. It stared him straight in the face and dared him to take the offer. He would break all the rules. He would throw everything away. He would risk his best friend on a gamble.

For Virgil.

Virgil was worth it.

Patton swallowed and drew up his shoulders.

"I could give you my name."

Janus made a little sound like he'd been smacked across the face. Like Patton had just suggested petting a live bear. Like he'd just watched his dog die.

The Faerie watched Patton curiously, eyes alight with excitement. "You don't say."

"I—" Patton made the mistake of glancing at Janus. Janus' mouth had dropped open and his eyes were piercing and once again, he was silent. A silent Janus was bad. A silent Janus meant Janus was very scared, very confused, or very angry. In this case, maybe all three.

But he'd made his decision. Janus would understand.

"Yep." Patton nodded, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "I—I'll give you my name if you free Virgil and let all of us return to the path."

The Faerie looked at him for a long time, and Patton braced himself for the question, braced himself to give the one thing he promised never to share.

"Nope, sorry!" The Faerie didn't sound sorry. "You're part Fae. I can't take your name."

"You—" Patton was filled with several emotions at once. He settled on indignation. "Then why did you ask for my name last time we met?"

"To mess with you," she said as if it was obvious. "That's what I do."

"So…" Patton bit his lip. "I can't? Share my name?"

"I'm afraid not." Her eyes slid over to Janus. "Him, on the other hand…"

"No," Janus said lightly, his tone at odds with his shaking hands.

"It wouldn't be up to you." The Faerie inclined her head in Patton's direction. "The little Fae owns your name. If he chooses…"

Patton swallowed and wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to steady himself.

"So what'll it be?" the Faerie asked, her smile too wide for her face. "Will you trade him for Virgil?"

Patton looked at Janus, his voice dying in his throat.

A week ago, that would have been an easy choice.

Now?

Janus apparently tried to flash a smile. It didn't work. His lips tilted upwards and plummeted down just as quickly. His eyes didn't change at all. He broke eye contact and turned away from Patton, letting out a long breath. Patton could see from his profile that he was struggling to keep his face blank.

He assumed Patton would make the trade. And Patton didn't blame him, which almost made it worse.

Virgil—Patton had known Virgil for years. Janus was a dragon he'd met a week ago. It shouldn't even be a competition.

But there shouldn't need to be a competition.

"Isn't there something else?" Patton asked. "That…that can't be the only thing you'll accept. Please, can I…is there something else?"

Janus' eyes flickered wide with shock, just for a second. He quickly smoothed his face again. But Patton had seen it. And it made him feel a strange mix of fond and guilty.

"I don't know," the Faerie asked, examining her hand. "There's not much I lack, little Fae."

That was true. She'd lived for centuries. She'd created the Iron Woods. She was more powerful than Patton could ever hope to be. She was a Fae.

But…there were things the Fae couldn't do.

"You don't get to eat," Patton said slowly. "Or lie, or dream."

"I hardly think I'm missing out." The Faerie narrowed her eyes. "You had better think of something quickly, little Fae. I'm tiring of this game."

And suddenly, Patton knew what he had to do.

"I…you're kind of missing out. Actually." Patton raised his hands. "Not like that much! Just…if I couldn't eat or dream, I'd be really sad."

"Is that so," the Faerie said. "I eat all the time, for your information. It's simply not necessary for us like it is for you humans."

"Yeah," Patton agreed, "but you don't dream, do you?"

The Faerie was silent for a long time.

"Dreams are so weird," Patton said, giggling a bit. It was forced, but he'd had a lot of practice faking a smile. "Kind of scary at times. But fun! You never know what you're gonna get. I—it sounds kind of boring to not have any. I'm curious what it's like!"

"You're trying to trap me," the Faerie said.

"Maybe," Patton admitted. "But…look. I—I think you're—you're not all bad. Well, yes. You are all bad. But you didn't use to be. And I like my dreams a lot, but if they can free Virgil and go to someone who needs them? I'll give them up."

The Faerie tilted his head. "Are you lying, little Fae?"

"No," Patton said.

Because technically, he wasn't. All of that was the truth. Just the truth specifically tailored to leave out the bad elements.

Thanks, Janus.

The Faerie hummed to herself for a few seconds. "You will trade your dreams for the release of your friend?"

"Yes," Patton said. "And safe passage back to the path."

"Oh, not so fast!" She laughed a little. "That's two gifts for the price of one, and I'm not fully sold on your offer yet. You'll need to offer me a little more than that for safe passage, little Fae."

Patton swallowed. "So…what else?"

"I don't know! There are so many good options." The Faerie held up a few fingers. "There's your firstborn child, your voice, your true love, your greatest wish—of course, those are only the classics. I could take your fear or your kindness or your sarcasm or your joy. Anything you possess, I can take."

Patton ran through everything he possessed. He didn't think he would have a firstborn child, and a true love would just be the same problem with sacrificing one person for another. His voice? He'd miss talking, but if it saved Virgil and got them out of here—

"Pat."

Patton jerked around to look at Janus. He had a strangely intense look on his face. He reached out and clapped his hand over Patton's mouth once again. Cold fingers over his lips. Janus' eyes watching him, yellow and burning brighter than the fireflies. Patton reached up and touched Janus' hand, but he couldn't bring himself to move it away.

"If he offers his dreams, and I offer something as well, would that be enough?"

Patton stared at Janus, hand forgotten entirely, wondering if he'd just heard what he thought he did.

"In theory," the Faerie agreed, looking more entertained than ever. "Are you offering?"

Janus swallowed. Patton watched his throat catch and settle. His lips were drawn tight and his hand still covered Patton's mouth. Patton tugged at it curiously. Janus squeezed tighter.

"Yes," Janus finally said, his voice simultaneously shaky and strong.

"No," Patton spluttered out right after him, shoving Janus' hand away. "No way!"

"Don't be so controlling," the Faerie teased, "he can do whatever he wants."

"But he can't—he shouldn't—" Patton turned to Janus. "You're not going to actually—what would you even trade, Jan?"

Janus whispered something that Patton didn't catch. But the Faerie heard. She must have, because her eyes gleamed and she chuckled.

"That's a good trade," she finally admitted. "You're sure about this?"

"No, he's not!" Patton tried to say on Janus' behalf. Nobody even seemed to hear.

Janus swallowed again, reached out, and took her hand. It was a practiced motion. Like he'd done this before, or like he'd grown up hearing the same stories Patton had, about those who made deals with the Fae. They always ended up dead, destitute, or trapped in a Faerie's grasp. Surely Janus knew that. Yes, he did know that, he'd said it when they walked into the Woods—don't talk to them, engage with them, or make a deal with them.

And now he was breaking his own rules.

Patton reached for Janus, but Janus was too far away.

The Faerie shook hands with Janus once.

And light exploded from their fingers, so hot and bright that Patton had to close his eyes. But he could still see it, burning through his eyelids. It was yellower than the fireflies and colder than any fire Patton had ever seen.

When the light faded, Patton opened his eyes again. Janus stood, still hand-in-hand with the Faerie. Yellow flames sunk into thin air with a hiss. He pulled his hand away like it had been burned. Light curled up from it in ringlets of smoke. He stared down at it nervously like he was afraid it would bite him.

The light faded. Janus' nervousness didn't. Neither did the wicked smile on the Faerie's face.

"Your turn," she said, turning to Patton and extending a hand, still lying on her throne without a care in the world.

Patton was still blinking the spots from his eyes. He looked at Janus again, to make sure he was okay, to maybe understand what had possessed him to do that. He found nothing. Janus' face was carefully blank and he had pressed his hand to his shirt, as if he could wipe away the magic from his fingers.

They had safe passage back. All Patton had to do was make his own trade, and Virgil would be okay.

Yeah. Not much of a choice, in the end.

Patton turned back to the Faerie, took her hand, and felt warm air trickle over his palm. Blue light danced down the crevices in his fingers and curled up his arm, glowing hotter and brighter and bigger and more powerful, until the whole world seemed to shimmer in cerulean and Patton tried to tug his hand away but only managed to make the heat increase. He closed his eyes. That was a mistake—all he saw was blue shadow and humming darkness.

Then the heat eased and dissipated. It hadn't even hurt. Patton wondered if it had been hot in the first place, or if it was all in his head.

Either way, he tore his hand out of the Faerie's grasp as soon as he could, cradling it to his chest. Little spurts of blue magic crackled and sparked into the air. They smelled like lavender and ozone and burnt meadows.

"Okay," Patton said shakily, because that was all he could think of to say.

"Wonderful!" The Faerie clapped her hands and sat up. "Thank you kindly, and I wish you the best of luck in the rest of the Woods! Mind your step on the way out."

And the Woods stretched around them and pulled tight like a rubber band, and Patton found himself collapsed on the ground in the middle of the trees, the dais empty and the Faerie nowhere to be found. A spider moseyed past his head and disappeared into a little hole. Patton didn't have the energy to scream.

"Pat?" he heard Janus say.

"I'm here," Patton replied, voice hoarse. It took him three tries to find enough strength to climb to his feet. He took one last look at the throne, but it remained resolutely still. The trees around them rippled and grasped and silently screamed. The fireflies floated among the stars. Janus climbed to his feet in the middle of the aisle, brushing off his clothes as if it would change the fact that they were muddy and torn and a mess, almost glowing at the edges as if he'd been torn from a book and pasted onto the scene. He didn't belong. None of this belonged. It was patchy and scratchy and all-together terrifying.

Something fell back into Patton's mind, and he frantically looked around for Virgil.

The tree he'd been in was empty.

Virgil was crumpled at the foot of it, crossbow in one limp hand, hair covering his face.

Patton dashed over. Virgil wasn't moving. He reached down and placed one hand on Virgil's shoulder. It was warm and soft and nothing happened, so he pulled Virgil into a less closed-off position. Virgil's eyes were closed, but he was breathing steadily and snoring a bit. It looked like he'd just fallen asleep.

"He's alright," Janus said, and Patton couldn't tell if there was relief in his voice.

Patton shook Virgil's shoulder. He didn't respond. "He won't wake up! Is he cursed?"

"Sleeping curses leave a mark on the victim and they usually require blood." Janus lay a hand on Virgil's forehead. "He's just sleeping. He should wake up soon."

"Well, he needs to wake up now." Patton looked down the aisle to where the wall of branches had been. In its place was an archway of thistles, leading down a small hallway to who-knows-where. Hopefully the path. Fae had to keep up their end of a bargain, right? "Will we have to carry him?"

"It looks like it." Janus slipped a hand under Virgil's shoulders. "You take his other arm."

Patton nodded. Together, they maneuvered Virgil into some sort of carry. It helped that Virgil was a little shorter than Janus. His feet scraped the ground and his head lolled on Patton's shoulder. Janus shifted to make sure his arms stayed around their shoulders. Despite Virgil being in-between them, Patton and Janus were very close to each other, and that made Patton's face flush just a bit.

"Let's go," Janus said. Then he paused. "He'll want his crossbow, probably."

"Oh! Right." Patton bent down and carefully grabbed Virgil's crossbow. It was heavy and unwieldy in his hand, but he tucked it under his arm. "Thanks, Jan!"

Janus bristled almost imperceptibly. "Let's go."

They walked down the aisle of trees and slipped into the Fae-made tunnel. The branches knotted together overhead. The path was just wide enough for the three of them. Patton's shoulders brushed the wall and something twitched and shivered at his touch. He jerked away.

"This was all a terrible idea," Patton finally said, almost laughing.

"It wasn't my idea," Janus reminded him. "It wasn't any of our ideas."

"I know." Patton actually did laugh this time. Or maybe he sobbed. It could have been either. "It was just—it was just bad. All-around."

"I'd like to know how you feel right now," Janus said slowly. "If you're okay."

"Who'd be okay after that?"

"My question still stands."

Patton shrugged as much as he could with Virgil clinging to his shoulders. "I'm…I'm not great. Okay. It could be worse."

That was the simplest answer and probably the vaguest. He didn't know how to explain the crawling wrongness on his spine, the strange fluttering fire in his chest, and the tingling in his nose and eyes. Well, he could explain that last one. It meant he was going to cry soon. Patton wasn't looking forward to that.

"Your dreams," Janus said after another minute or so.

"Yep!" Patton chuckled. "Won't miss 'em."

"No?"

"They're—" Patton looked away. "They're mostly nightmares. Not fun."

Janus' eyes bore into Patton's cheek. "You don't sleep because of that."

Patton could lie. It wasn't a question. He just—he just didn't want to lie. He was tired and sore and confused and angry and had just traded for his best friend's life. And Janus…Janus had sacrificed something too, even though Patton didn't know what. He deserved the truth. It was the least Patton could do.

"I don't," Patton agreed. "Not much. I—I try to keep myself awake."

"You can tell me what they're about," Janus said, "or you can't. Either one works."

"They're—" Patton hesitated for a long time. Janus didn't prompt him. "I think you can guess."

Janus was silent and Patton knew that he'd guessed already.

"It must have been scary," Janus finally said. "The raid."

"It was," Patton agreed. "Was it scary for you?"

"What?" Janus laughed a little. "I was one of the perpetrators. Why would I be scared?"

"Still. Was it?"

Janus looked away. "The crossbow's slipping, be careful."

Patton looked down and shuffled Virgil's crossbow back into position. He decided not to press the issue. They walked in silence for a little while longer.

"What did you trade?" Patton asked.

"I'm not going to answer that," Janus said, almost smiling. "If I wanted you to know, I'd have said it out loud."

"I'm just curious." Patton watched Janus carefully. "I—I'd like to know."

"We don't always get what we want in life."

"Puh-lease? Pretty please with sugar and cherries on top?" Patton stuck out his lip. "I told you about my nightmares and everything, it's only fair!"

"Aha! Your master plan has been revealed!" Janus smirked. "You only opened up so I would."

Patton giggled a little, too. It felt really good. "You caught me. I'm only being friends with you to get your deepest, darkest secrets."

"Alas, woe is me, I've been betrayed." Janus' smile turned a little more real. "It's all been a plot. I should have known someone so perky and innocent and perfect couldn't be real."

"I'm not perfect," Patton protested, but his grin didn't waver. "And you're the one with a master plan, remember?"

"I'm afraid I've forgotten. You'll have to remind me."

Patton chuckled. "You know. Betray us, destroy the entire world, create your own civilization?"

Janus raised an eyebrow. "That's the plot of a board game."

"I think you'd be good at it!" Patton bit his lip and watched the stars twinkle between the trees. "Seriously, though. I—I don't need to know what you traded. But if it's going to hurt us later, or just change how we—how you are—I feel like I should know."

Janus was silent, shadows playing across his face, staring down the path like he could see the end of it.

"I just said the first thing I thought of," he murmured.

"Which was?" Patton asked when Janus didn't continue.

"There's an old fairy tale," Janus said, hesitating between every word, "where a man made a deal with a Faerie to save his true love. It was never my favorite—a little too sappy—but I heard it millions of times."

Patton didn't prompt Janus this time. He waited and listened to the wind and hoped Janus would trust him enough to continue.

"'When you need it most, your strength will fail you.'" Janus said the words easily, digging into the consonants, like he'd recited it before. "It's an old saying. It might even outdate the tale itself. It's a good curse, too, as well as—as a good deal. It's vague and powerful and bites you back when you least expect it. The Fae love that sort of thing." His chin dipped. "Like I said. It was the first thing I thought of."

"When you need it most, your strength will fail you," Patton repeated, and something within him flared at those words. "What happened? To the guy in the fairy tale?"

Janus pressed his lips together. "He died."

"Oh," Patton said faintly, feeling yet another piece of him drift loose. He was feeling entirely too much and not enough at the same time. He would probably start crying soon. For now, it was like there was a sheet of glass inside him, cutting him off from the myriad of emotions whirling in his gut. Cool and firm and just sharp enough to hurt.

"Careful," Janus said. "Virgil will fall if you don't watch your step."

"Right." Patton nodded and focused on his feet and the touch of Virgil around his shoulders and the tickle of bangs. Janus was pressed against the back of his hand where Patton had laid it on Virgil's hip. It felt oddly secure.

"I shouldn't have followed the light," Janus said after a while, his voice unexpectedly bitter. "That was…it was the most basic trap in the book, and I fell for it."

"It's fine," Patton said. "It could have happened to any of us."

Janus didn't look convinced.

"Hey, c'mon! I've gotten us into trouble loads of times!" Patton smiled. "Remember the snake? We're all a little stupid sometimes. These Woods are designed to trick us. Don't feel bad for not being perfect."

Janus laughed a little. "You're not chiding me for my mistake? Truly a noble, kind soul. I hope you're not cold from the pedestal you're putting yourself on."

Mean words. But Patton wasn't offended. He heard the real message—Janus was afraid Patton would be mad, because Janus had been mad when Patton did the same thing. And now he was relieved and apologetic and had no idea how to say it.

"I forgive you," Patton said in response to the 'sorry' Janus hadn't figured out how to convey.

And something in Janus' face softened, just a bit.

"It's really not a big deal." That was a lie, but a white lie, and Patton liked its shallow safeness. "Besides, we got out alright, and that's what matters."

Janus looked behind them. "I'm not sure we did."

"We got out," Patton amended. "And that's…that can be enough for now."

"Right," Janus agreed, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the path—they reached the path, they made it, everything they'd traded hadn't been in vain—Janus immediately placed Virgil on his blanket and stumbled to his own sleeping bag. Patton barely managed a goodnight before he too was falling to the ground. He curled up on the blanket and his eyes drifted closed. Instinctively, Patton tried to jostle himself awake.

But he had nothing to worry about anymore. He'd handed his dreams away. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest way to get rid of nightmares.

It had saved Virgil, though. So that was worth it.

And as Patton slipped into a deep dreamless sleep, he felt more relaxed than he'd been for weeks.

Just as he drifted off, he swore he saw a flash of blue fire.

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

[zoequeenz]

Extreme Aggressor (Part 4)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER 

Aaron Hotchner’s POV

“We found out Heather was buying a used car. You know how a car salesman gets us to buy a car? They call it reciprocity.They drop the price and...feels like they’ve done us a favor. We feel obligated. There’s a sudden pressure to reciprocate this one little favor. And it’s so powerful that we’ll...put a deposit down on a car we’re not even sure we really want.” I say pacing in the interrogation room.

“So what?” Slessman quickly replied in an annoyed tone.

“So Vogel did you a favor.”

“He protected you in prison,and now you feel like you owe him and need to protect him. Guys like Vogel learn in the schoolyard which kids to bully and which kids to protect, and he’s got you convinced that you owe him so much that you’ll go to jail for him.”

“Richard...I’m here to remind you of something. You owe him nothing.”

Richard says nothing but looks forward as a smirk grows on his face.

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Elle Greenaway’s POV

“There’s something wrong here. We gotta pull him over. I can feel it.” I say to Gideon while we are following the red Datsun Z.

“You wanna know the word repeated more than any other in your file?” He asks getting my attention.

“Impatient. You wanna stop him, give me a reason.”

“His behavior.” I respond with quickly.

“When we left him, he was nervous, unsettled. But now he’s stopping at every sign. He’s using his blinker at every turn. He’s slowing at yellow lights. This is not someone who is rushing to kill and dump a body.” I explain.

“Okay. Do it.” Gideon says after thinking for a minute.

I turn on the siren and the lights and the red Datsun Z slows to a stop. We get out of the car and draw our guns. We slowly walk towards the car.

“FBI. Put your hands up where we can see them!” I order as Gideon and I approach the car.

“Put your hands through the window now!” I repeat.

“Now!” just as I say that hands come through the window.

“All right, with your left hand I want you to open the car door from the outside.” I instruct. The driver reaches for the handle and opens the door. I move towards him and grab him pulling him out of the car, he falls to the ground.

“Get out!”

The man groans in pain when he hits the ground.

“It’s not him!” I exclaim.

“Where is he?” Where is him?” Gideon asks the man.

“Who?” the man asks.

“Vogel!” I respond.

“I don’t know!” he tells us.

“What are you doin’ driving his car?!” Gideon questions.

“He came up to me in the garage after our shift ended. He asked if he could borrow my truck.” the man explained.

“What kind of truck?”

“He’s dumping the body.” I say.

“What’s the make?”...”WHAT’S THE MAKE?”

“Dodge. Dodge Dakota!” the man tells us.

(DRIVING TO FIND THE TRUCK)

“Gideon Heather’s alive.” Morgan tells Gideon.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“”Cause we’re watching her right now.”

(TIME SKIP)

“Hotch, he’s gonna kill her. He’s heading there now. We need a location.”Gideon tells Hotch.

“I don’t have enough time to get it out of him.” Hotch answers.

“Find something, Hotch, or that girl is dead.”

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We got in and have been watching Heather for about an hour. I was comfortable until Spencer got up and booted me off his lap. We are also still trying to find out where Heather is being held, we don’t know how much time she has left so these few minutes are very crucial.

“Morgan, can you show me the last twelve images lined up next to each other?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah.”

The few images filled up the screen. Spencer must’ve noticed something

“Right there.” Spencer says pointing to the screen.

“You see that?” he asks.

“The light bulb hanging from the wire?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Derek retaliates.

“It’s shifting positions like it’s swaying...like the earth is tilting.” Spencer points out.

“Not the earth,Doc. The ocean.” Derek says leading them to look at each other. Derek then pulls out his phone and calls Hotch.

“She’s on a boat? Where?” Hotch asks.

“It’s a pier or a dock. He wouldn’t be able to transmit the Webcam image from the middle of the ocean.” Derek tells Hotch.

“You’re sure about this.” Hotch questions.

“It’s the best we got, Hotch. Even if we’re right, getting the exact location’s on you, my friend.” Derek tells him.

“What is it you always as Garcia?” Hotch asks.

“To work me a little magic.” Derek responds.

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Aaron Hotchner’s POV

“Just to let you know...Gideon’s talking to Vogel...and Vogel’s nailing you to the wall.” I lie to Slessman.

“Yeah, whatever.” Slessman responds sounding a bit hurt.

“He said it was your idea to keep the girls on a boat.”

“He’s talking, Richard. Reciprocity. Tell me where she is, and we make a deal. Is it a dock? A pier?” I ask finally breaking him.

“It’s a shipyard. Allied Shipyard.” Slessman tells me.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We are still viewing the webcam to make sure that if something happens we are the first to know. When I look back on the screen I notice Vogel there in the room with Heather. I tap Derek on the shoulder and point to the screen to get him to notice the situation at hand.

“Ried, he’s inside.” Derek tells Spency. Spency walks over and stands next to me. Vogel unlocks the cage holding Heather and removes the chain.

“Get Elle on the phone.” Derek commands the both of us. Spency is quick to get his phone out. Then hands it to Derek.

“Listen to me. You need to wait for backup.” Derek says which triggers fear into my mind and I quickly grab Spencer’s hand. He looks at me then puts two and two together.

“If we wait, the girl is dead.” Elle quickly replies.

“And if we had waited in Boston--.” Derek says.

“I can’t. You told me to trust my instincts.” Elle says ending the conversation.

When Derek pauses it causes me more stress. Gideon is like my father and Elle is the only other girl that goes out to the field with me, I don’t normally get this freaked out but usually the unsub’s aren’t cops. Let’s just hope Hotch doesn’t find out this kind of behavior would be bad for the job.

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3RD PERSON POV

Vogel opens the cage door and reaches out to the sleeping Heather.

“Come on.” Vogel mumbles under his breathe. As he pulls the sleeping woman out of the cage by her ankles her foot flies up and kicks him in the face. Heather then gets up in an attempt to run. She hits her head on something due to there being a blindfold on her eyes. Even though there was a delay Heather managed to escape the room she was held captive in. When she makes it to the top deck she trips over something just as Vogel comes up the stairs. Still unable to see a blind Heather crawls in a desperate attempt to get away from her captor. He reaches her and pulls her up roughly. Heather now being able to see and speak cries out.

“Stop!” yells Gideon catching Vogel’s attention.

“Get back!” demands Vogel pointing the gun to the frightened woman’s head. Gideon walks a bit closer but is still a good distance away.

“I’ll shoot her.” Vogel threatens.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, I’d aim the gun at me. You shoot the girl, you got nothing.” Gideon says.

“Get...back.” Vogel warns for the second time.

“Shoot me instead. Come on. What, are you a lousy shot?” Gideon pesters. Gideon lowers the gun to the side and opens his arms.

“Fifty feet away. You got a perfect shot. Shoot me.”

“You think I’m stupid?” Vogel grimly asks.

“I think you’re an absolute moron. I know all about ya, Tim. You’re at the gym five times a week. You drive a flashy car, you stink of cologne, and you can’t get it up. Not even Viagra’s workin’ for ya. You know what that tells me? That tells me that you are hopelessly compensating, and it’s not just in your head. It is physical. What did the girls call you in high school? What’d they come up with when you fumbled your way into some girl’s pants, and she started laughing when she got a good look at just how little you had to offer?” Gideon yet again pestered.

“SHUT UP!” Vogel yelled.

“Short stack? Very little Vogel? I got it. Tiny Tim.” Gideon stated.

Vogel pushed Heather away from him and points the gun at Gideon. Elle shoots and the bullet hits Vogel. Leading Vogel to fire a shot and hit Gideon in the chest. Gideon goes down and slumps. Elle runs over…

“Gideon!”

Elle checks Gideon as Heather gets to her feet and begins to yell and cry.

“I’m fine. Go look after the girl.” Gideon informs Elle. Elle runs over to the distraught girl.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We get to the crime scene and I see Heather on a gurney. Heather and Gideon share a moment of gratitude, then he walks off. Spencer finds me and we being to walk to who knows where. We walk past Derek and Hotch, they are talking about Gideon.

“So what kind of report do they want on him?” Derek asks.

“I suppose whether he’s fit to be a field agent. You know, Haley and I were looking at a baby names book. Well, guess what Gideon means in Hebrew.” Hotch paused only to be cut off by Spencer.

“Mighty warrior. Appropriate.”

As we walk away I giggle catching Spencer’s attention.

“What is funny?” he asks me.

“I just think that how much of a smartass you are is kinda cute.” I reply.

He looks at me with a faint blush on his face and hugs me. I savor this moment, believe it or not we don’t hug a lot. Not to sure why but we don’t. I want to hug him more often though because his hugs are the best.

(TIME SKIP)

We are now flying home. It seems like everyone is asleep except Hotch, Gideon, and I. I can’t sleep, because I have the head of my genius best friend in my lap. I chose to sit here and he thought my lap would be the best pillow. I don’t mind it though, he looks very cute. His hair is in his face and he looks so innocent. I move his hair to behind his ear to see his face better. His eyelashes flutter a bit from me touching his face. He looks at me and I smile then tell him to go back to sleep. Thank god for the wall next to me and slowly drift off.

“Nietzsche once said, “When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you.

NEXT CHAPTER 

[invaderdoom78]

Fright Twilight (the dumbest title) part 5

Part 5 of @julielilac gif set 

So I found out that Chris Sarandon and I are from the same state and in honor of that I figured I’d write him into this with a what if scenario where og Peter Vincent didn’t have his mirror prop on him when Amy and Evil Ed asked him to help convince Charlie that Jerry wasn’t a vampire and never saw that he had no reflection, therefore the two never teamed up. On a side note how cool would it have been if his camo character had been turned into a vampire when Colin Ferrall bit him and when the climax happen he’s mixed in with everyone else remake Jerry turned.

The next day Charley came back to Peters home with a folder of all of the information he’d managed to gather on the Iowa vampire, which was of the police reports on the bodies of men and women along with a report some kid had made stating that his neighbor was the one responsible for their deaths, claiming he was a vampire, and the missing person reports for the kid that made the vampire report, his girlfriend, and best friend. Stepping into the house Charley saw that the inside was even more of a mess than it had been the previous day, nothing, aside from the glass cup that had been thrown against the wall, was broken, but some things had been knocked over, though it didn’t look like it was because of a fight the clutter seemed to deliberate. “Peter?” Charley called out into the house, looking down at the broken glass “Yeah, yeah” Peter said, walking out of the bathroom, looking like he hadn’t slept at all last night, eyes red, puffy, and dead inside, and even though he reeked of alcohol he was holding himself like he was completely sober “I’m here” “There’s broken glass on your floor” Charley said, pointing at the glass “I dropped it last night” Peter said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger “Anything else happen?” “Not really” Peter said, noticing the folder Charley was holding “what’s that?” “Stuff about the Iowa vampire” Charley said holding out the folder “who’s name is also apparently Jerry” “Huh” Peter said, taking the file along with a seat on his couch so he could flip through the papers “well, Jerry is a very inconspicuous name” “I guess” Charley said, taking a seat as well “I did gave my friend Ed a pretty hard time when he told me who was responsible for killing Amy” “Yeah” Peter said, looking over the missing persons reports “I never would’ve guessed that a Jerry was the one that killed my parents” “Is this everything you could find about this guy?” Peter asked setting down the folder “did you look up his address and see if it’s still occupied?” “Yes and no” Charley said, watching Peter get up so he could grab his laptop “Let’s see what we can find out” Peter said booting it up “what’s the address?” pulling the folder closer he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for, typing it into the search engine “looks like the house was abandoned a few months after his neighbor disappeared so Iowa’s a dead end” “Maybe you’ll find something with one of the missing person names?” Charley suggested “Already on it” Peter said, picking one of the three names on the missing persons report, getting a hit on one of them for a house that was recently brought up in West Virginia “there’s no picture, but the first and last names for Edward match so I’d say it’s worth looking into” he jotted down the houses address and state A few days later they found themselves driving across the Ohio River, making their way up and down a bunch of hills and around about a bajillion turns until they came upon the sparsely populated and forested area that the house had been built on. “Who ever paved these fuckin’ roads must’ve been drunk off their asses” Peter grumbled to himself as he pulled onto a road that was surrounded by trees The houses along the road were sparse and far between, sizable enough to easily fit at least four vampires along with their victims. Close to the end of the street was a house that, from the outside, looked as if it might have been abandoned, especially considering that some of the windows were deliberately blacked out, but there was a jeep parked out front and it looked like the grass had recently been mowed and raked of fallen leaves. “Are you sure you’re alright, Peter?” Charley asked as he noticed the dead look behind Peters eyes was still very present “Yeah” Peter said, parking the car a ways away from the house, finding a spot where they could hide it from view of the road “I’m fine” “Are you sure?” Charley asked, glancing over at Peter “‘cause you seem pretty distracted” “I said I was fine!” Peter snapped “Alright, jeez” “Just get the shit out of the trunk” Peter said, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut “Oh boy” Charley sighed exasperatedly, getting out of the car as well Opening the trunk Charley grabbed both of their duffle bags tossing Peters to the older man as he pulled his crossbow out from his and loaded an arrow into it. “So how do you want to do this?” Charley asked “I’ll take the basement and you see if you can get to the second floor if not, then focus on the first and we can converge to search the second together” Peter said, loading up his shotgun “Alright” Charley said, disappearing into the tree so he could sneak his way around to the back of the house With his shotgun now loaded and Charley out of sight Peter pulled his flask out of his duffle bag and brought it up to his lips, only putting it away once it was almost empty. Cocking the gun he also made his way into the trees as well, though he kept closer to the road than Charley was. When he got to the house he quickly spotted a storm door along its side that he could use to get into the basement. Thankfully it didn’t have a lock on it, so getting in would be no problem. Walking down the steps Peter saw that the basement was full of the type of clutter you get when you’ve just moved into a new house, but despite that he could still see movement a couple feet away. Slipping away from the steps he crept towards the movement and spotted Jane sitting on the ground, scooting away from another vampire that was stabbing at the air in front of her with a large kitchen knife. Despite the fact that the knife shouldn’t have been able to do any actual damage to her, she was still holding up her arms to cover her head because watching a knife coming at your face was not a fun thing to watch. Taking aim Peter shot at the spiky haired vampire, hitting him in the back of the shoulder, forcing him to scurry away and take shelter in the clutter of the basement. Running up to Jane Peter saw the cut on her forearm, deep enough that it reached straight down to the bone, an almost black colored blood seeping out of the wound. “Shit” Peter said, getting on his knees so he could get a better look at the cut “he must’ve soaked the blade in holy water, you aren’t healing yourself. Fuck!” straightening his spine, he quickly pulled off his trench coat and ripped off one of the sleeves, using it to dress the wound, hoping that the pressure would stop the blood flow “where’s your brother?” “I’m not sure” Jane started, looking away embarrassed “I fell through a weak spot in the floor and we got separated” “Alright” Peter said, putting his trench coat back on “come on let’s go find him” Taking hold of Jane's hand, which she surprisingly had no objection to, they ventured further into the basement carefully scanning over the coffins and other clutter that littered the room keeping a careful look out for anything. When they got to the stairs, Peter was about to take the lead up them when a vampire with light brown hair jumped out at them from the shadows and pouncing on him, knocking the hunter to the ground. “Fuck!” Peter grunted, pushing his shotgun up against her neck to keep the vampire's elongated mouth and fangs away from his neck “get off of me, you dumb bitch” he used the butt of the shotgun to knock her off of and away from him Unfortunately for Peter, her recovery time was much quicker than his and she was back up on her feet before he could even sit up. Thankfully for him, though, Jane had decided to give him a hand and used her ability on the other vampire as she collapsed back onto the ground and the agony of being lit aflame, minus the actual fire, spread across her nervous system. Finally getting to his feet Peter grabbed one of the stakes on his belt, about to stab it into the vampire's heart when someone knocked over a stack of wooden boxes onto the vampire hunter and Jane, giving the other vampire a chance to escape. “Shit” Peter said, kicking the boxes away “are you alright?” “Yeah” Jane said also kicking away some boxes “Here” Peter said, handing Jane a revolver he had strapped to his ankle as a backup for encase his shot gun failed “it won’t do much but you can at least stall them for a bit. Maybe you can even blind them if you get some lucky enough shots off” “How do I use it?” Jane asked, looking over the weapon “First, grip it with both hands” Peter said taking both of her hands and placing them in the proper positions “keep your arms straight out and then cock it by pulling this back with your thumb” he pointed at the hammer “look down the barrel and through the site and then pull the trigger once you’ve found your target” “Got it” Jane said, looking genuinely excited about the prospect of shooting someone Taking Janes hand again Peter brought her up to the main floor of the house just as Charley ran down from the second, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Jane; who was peeking out from behind Peter, looking at him with such unadulterated murderous hate that Charley found himself more than terrifying, especially considering it was coming from this tiny twelve year old girl. “Have you found anyone?” Peter asked Charley “I think there’re, like, walkways behind the walls” Charley said, not taking his eyes off Jane “‘cause I’ve been hearing people walking around and talking, but I haven’t seen anyone” “Well, crawl spaces behind the wall would explain how those two in the basement got away so quickly” Peter said as Alec rounded a corner “Jane!” Alec exclaimed, running over to his sister “have you seen Dimitri or Felix?” “No. You got separated too?” Jane asked “Kinda, we ran into this guy and they stayed behind to take care of him, but I don’t know how well that fight will go since he’s a ghoul or something else like that” Alec shrugged “What a nice surprise” a vampire that was older than the ones in the basement said, appearing at the top of the steps “I wasn’t expecting visitors” he noticed the Volturi symbols the twins wore around their necks and seemed to hesitate “to what do I owe this honor”“We had received a copy of the report your neighbor had made about you back in Iowa” Jane said “Ah, yes. Amy. Edward come out” Jerry called out into the house “we have guests” the two vampires from the basement stepped out of the living area “what would you like to know?”“What have you done about your neighbor?”“Well, I had given Charley the opportunity to forget about me, but he refused, so when he got his friends involved I had no choice but to turn all three of them” “And what happened to Charlie?” Jane asked“He seemed to have a difficult time adjusting to being one of our kind so my roommate Billy had to dispose of him, and who are these two?” he motioned to Peter and Charlie, taking careful stock of their weapons “They are not associated with us” Jane said There was a tense moment that seemed to last for hours and it was only broken when Ed grabbed an empty cardboard box and chucked it at Peters head. Then all hell seemed to break loose as he began his wolf transformation. Returning Peters favor from earlier Jane held up the revolver and used it to shoot out the large stained glass window at the top of the stairway, creating enough holes for the entire pane to fall away so the sun’s light could filter through. Alec decided to lend a hand as well using his ability on Ed, the numbing ability mixed with the mid-transformation shape shift left him disoriented and no longer aware of his surroundings as he thrashed his way directly into the beam of sunlight. Amy was taken out almost as easily by Charley with a lucky shot directly through her heart with a holy water tipped arrow as she attempted to tackle him to the ground, leaving Jerry as the only one left. Wanting to get away from the sun as quickly as possible Jerry turned into a monstrous looking bat and tried to fly away, only to have Charley jump up and tackle him to the ground. However, the bat was able to quickly overpower him and roll them so that he was on top, biting at the young hunter so he could get away. Unfortunately, he only had enough time to block the attack with his arms. “Ow!” Charley exclaimed, ripping his arm out of Jerrys bat mouth “the fucker bit me!” Grabbing one of the antique lamps Peter whacked bat Jerry in the side of the head with it, knocking him back far enough for his face to be forced into the beams of sunlight. Letting out an inhuman shriek Jerry began to thrash violently until he was able to get away from the hunters, as Charley had grabbed hold of his neck to keep him in place, and make his escape for the basement. Following the vampire down a floor and over to the only closed casket Charley grabbed a hammer and used it to smash out every window he could find down there to allow the afternoon sun to filter in as Peter got to work figuring out how to break the lock on the coffin. Having lost patience with his attempt at picking the lock Peter grab a crowbar and jammed it into the crack of the caskets opening, using the weight of his body as he pushed down on the bar. Fortunately, this was enough to break the lock and have the top swing open as Peter collapsed to the ground. Even though the basement was full of natural light the coffin had been strategically placed so that even with all of the light none of it was touching him. Glancing at each other both Peter and Charley ran to the back of the casket and shoved it over so Jerry tumbled out of it, directly into the sun, his body bursting into green flames. Running back up to the main floor Peter grabbed Jane and Alec and got them out of the building as the green flames of Jerry’s burning corpse began spreading to the rest of the house.

[justmewoo]

A wish (Tony’s Big Brother) | Avengers x Male Reader|

Chapter Two: 

a/n: for the person who asked me to tag them on the story I apologize I accidentally deleted it so please send me a message and I can tag you on the next chapter. Enjoy! 

Jennifer got the baby ready while I waited for them downstairs. I had gone to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror and saw my reflection. I still looked young, no changes were made and as for my body, it was toned something that I didn't have before. My hair was still the same color as the last time I saw it and noticed I was wearing a blue suit that felt a bit tight. "I need to look for Tony." I talked to myself unaware that my "wife" was in the doorway spying on me as she was carrying the baby. "You ready to go? I have Maria ready hopefully we get to meet Santa Clause since it's her first Christmas." I nodded turning around and walking out of the bathroom. 

We gather our things including a phone or two that I had to carry because of work and got inside a nice car that had no idea what it was called. She put the baby in the back in what seems to be a car seat as she called it. Jennifer then drove to this place called a mall where people shop because of all the small stores it had inside. During the ride there, the car ride was silent except for the Christmas music playing on the radio and the sound of my phone vibrating every two minutes.

After a few more minutes we had arrived at the place. I got out of the car while she took the baby out in some sort of barrier so she wouldn't fall. She handed me the baby and carried her with my left hand so Jennifer could carry a bag that had things inside which I guessed were the baby's things she needed. 

Once inside people were coming and going with bags or shopping carts with gifts. Christmas music was blasting everywhere, there were kids laughing or crying because of the Santa Claus that was taking pictures near at the end of the mall. Small trees filled with lights stood almost everywhere. A gigantic tree was near Santa Claus with some fake snow on the ground. I watched in awe as I took a look around this mall had at least two floors with tons of stores. 

"Are you kidding me? He's going to be super mad if I don't find something for him to give to pepper! I will be toast you here me." A man passing by yelled talking on a phone. He was a bit tall, he was wearing a black suit and carried bags in one hand. I looked down for a second when I heard the baby cry. "Jennifer the baby's cr-" I stopped in mid-sentence when someone screamed I turn around to the see the man falling from the second floor. My reflexes quickly took over me and in an instant, I ran over to the man with both hands and carried him with no problem. As for the bags he was carrying I managed to save them from falling. I placed down the baby on the floor and slid her with my leg towards Jennifer so she wouldn't get hurt. Everyone around us stared at the sudden action, some began to applaud and recorded or took pictures while others continued on with their day. Soon men in black suits came over to us. 

I have to admit I was shocked myself too. Never in my life have I had those reflexes. "A-are you okay sir?" I asked as he fixed his posture. I quickly turned around sending a relief glance at the baby who was now in Jennifer's arms. 

"I- yeah... I'm fine thanks for saving me. I was too busy talking on the phone that I failed to notice the stairs. You are a lifesaver, there has to be a way I could repay you back." I defended myself with my hands. "Don't worry sir it's fine with me just please try to be more careful where your walking. If you excuse me I have to get back to my family." I said making my way back, but the guy continued to watch from afar as Jennifer and I left the scene. 

'He looks a bit like Tony..'  he thought.

_______________________

We were in the mall for about two hours or if not more shopping for Jennifer's and other's Christmas gifts. While she walked into the stores I stayed taking care of the baby near a bench sitting down. I was making funny faces down at the baby making her giggle. "You have your grandmother's eye and your uncles smile," I whispered under my breath. I made little farting noises in her tummy and tickles. "You know daddy really isn't from this timeline because I'm still only twenty-seven." She looked up at me confused. "I know sweetie daddy is really confused too because one moment he was with grandma and grandpa, then I wake up with a wife and the fact that I have a beautiful little girl. But of course, your mommy doesn't know about it and might think I'm crazy. But I really miss my parents especially your uncle Tony." I sigh looking at the ground.

Flash Back: 

"Anthony where are you I have something to show you, little brother." I shouted all over the house happily caring something in my hands. I ran all the way up to the room we both shared. I was only twelve and Tony was six years old. 

I opened the door to our room and found Tony playing alone with some robotic toys. I walked slowly behind him and placed the item on the bed before sneaking behind and grabbed him by his waist planting tons of kisses on his cheek only to get rejected by him. 

Tony wiped the kisses from his cheek hurting my feelings a bit. I didn't show an upset face instead I acted like it didn't matter. "Look a friend of mine gave me his older brother's baseball hat that was signed by Captain America, isn't it cool Tony? Now I have something signed of his." I showed him the hat to his face. But he knocked it out of my hand and threw it out the window. 

"Oh no, it fell out the window what a tragedy." He said with a fake worried tone there was not a hint of remorse what so ever.  "What the heck Anthony that's not cool." I yell storming out, "I'm tired of you and dad always talking about Captain America he's not alive anymore!" He yelled back. I ran out of the house and ran back outside to look for the hat. "I can't find my hat, you're really mean Anthony why are you always so mean to me!" I yelled walking in front of our room window. "Because you deserve it. You're just like him and I don't like you." He yells back pointing a finger at me. 

"But Anthony I'm nothing like him. I want to spend time with you but you don't want me to." I looked around in the ground looking for the hat. "Sheesh, I can't find the hat." I murmured to myself, Tony then closed the window slamming it shut. I looked up and saw the hat on the big tree that was next to our house so I began to climb up the tree to retreat the hat. I was close to getting it with my fingers but my feet were slowly slipping down so I quickly tried to grab the hat but when I did I began to fall down to the ground realizing it was too late. 

The sound of crying snapped me back to reality and saw Maria crying in my arms. I tried to rock her back and forth but a sudden smell made me guess it was something else. "Does someone need a diaper change? I have no clue how to change a diaper guess we have to go get mommy." I got up with her in my arms while carrying her bag on my shoulder. 

I walked to the store where Jennifer was in and when I arrived I saw her through the glass looking at clothes and smiled at her. Maybe I should try my best and put effort into acting like a normal husband and father maybe there's a reason why all of this happened. Smiling like an idiot, I took a small step forward when the glass from the store suddenly shattered. It felt like everything happened in such slow motion, Jennifer slowly fell on the ground as a drop of blood fell down from her chest. Her eyes looked into mine making me remember the same way that my mother had died. 

The sounds of gunshots drew in closer, in sudden seconds they were near me. I then quickly covered the baby with my arms trying to protect her in any way I could. Everyone in the mall ran in different directions making it impossible to even see who was the perpetrator that was causing all of this.  I saw blood coming out from beneath her and forming into a pool of blood. I was going to make a run for her when another gunshot was heard, my eyes turned to the left and saw two people running away from the person. They went passed me almost knocking everyone in their way, then he appeared from the crowd it was him. Suddenly the people that ran weren't the targets anymore it was me, that same man who killed my parents was coming after me now. 

His eyes were dark, there was no sign of remorse what so ever it looked like he was brainwashed by something that made him want to kill. The gun he pointed was aimed towards me, my legs then began to move to try to run away as fast as I could. I unbutton my shirt and placed Maria inside protecting her from any glass that was shattered as I passed the stores, his footsteps were getting closer. "Go I'll cover you from here!" someone yelled my head turned to see a man standing on the second floor shooting at him. The two people who were running from before were right in front of me, I still didn't understand what was going on everything seemed to be so confusing. How did he manage to even find me? 

A loud bang was heard then fire suddenly erupted from one of the stores, the explosion then through my body off to the side in quick moments I made sure I fell on my back to protect her head and held her tightly against my chest. I groaned feeling the glass break, it felt a lot worse on your back than anything else, "Are you okay Maria?" looking down her eyes were filled with worry "Hey...everything is going to be okay I promise." The man turned around trying to look for me, the blonde man from earlier then went up against him. A grunt was heard coming from him, I couldn't help but look seeing how hard he was trying to fight him. 

"Steve! We need to take him down there are too many civilians here!" the redheaded yelled trying to help him as well, another gunshot was then heard coming from the second floor. The man kept shooting trying to take the metal arm man down but kept shooting at the wrong places. I felt my heart beat rapidly in despair, frightened to find a way to keep Maria safe but also help them out. Civilians were still running passed me, they kept tripping over one another trying to flee the scene and get somewhere safe. I looked down at her she stared right back at me, sighing I set her down and covered her with a plant that wouldn't give her away. 

"I'll be right back...everything is going to be okay." I pressed a kiss softly on her forehead and left running towards both of them making sure to crouch down so he wouldn't be able to see coming from behind. The blonde guy made eye contact with me but never said anything, as soon as I had a good opening I grabbed him by his neck trying to make him pass out. He moved his chin down and stepped to the side as he grabbed my forearm trying to escape. I tried tightening it harder to make him stay in place, his left arm then moved back and hurt my leg before his elbow hit my neck directly making me stagger back. 

Right on that second, he immediately threw himself at me with full force making the both of us crash through the glass windows. I groaned feeling the impact affecting my back, his hands were then around my neck trying to choke me. His grip was too strong for me to try and take them off of me. Steve then came up took his off of me, I began coughing not being able to breathe. "Get out of here!" he exclaimed standing in front of me as he tried to defend himself. 

"I-" the coughing was making it worse for me throat, "I-I can't! Y-You need help!" the metal arm man picked up his gun and began shooting again, Steve picked up his shield and used it to protect both of us from the gunshots. "Why are you here?!" he exclaimed, "I was just in the mall...then he showed up out of nowhere and began to target me!" I yelled as the gunshots grew louder. There was a look in his face that was quite unexplainable, the girl from earlier then came over to us both and she took me away from Steve.  

"Ler's go!" she exclaimed taking my forearm as she ran pulling me with her, my eyes immediately went to over where Maria was. "Wait!" I headed into a different direction, "What are you doing?!" I didn't listen I kept going rushing to her risking it everything to make sure she was safe. The man followed my movements and retreated from Steve before going over to me, she was still safe and sound. Her eyes grew wide with a soft smile, "I'm here baby girl." carefully I picked her up in my arms and carried her. 

"You have a daughter?" she asked, "This is going to be more complicated than I thought." The loud sound of footsteps landed was heard, I pulled her close to my chest his eyes were focused on me and Maria. I had a gut feeling, something was about to happen. I tried to look brave but I was afraid that she would be in danger, Jennifer was gone and I wasn't going to lose my daughter. Nat and their friend came in at the right moment, they tried so many things to keep him down. I took the opportunity and ran away, all the moments I've lived from before began to come back to me. From the relationship that Tony, I had, to find out I had a daughter...and wishing to have gotten more time to fix things. 

I was alone in this world now. 

The doors then opened and a women came running over to us, "Come with me!" she exclaimed, I looked down seeing them fight against him. A feeling of regret began to wash over me, feeling guilty of leaving them behind but my daughter was the number one priority right now. I followed my instincts and went with her the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of glass shattering and the sound of bodies being thrown onto the ground. 

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 10

Chapter Summary - Paul talks to Danielle and offers make her munch, while Tom and Benedict meet with their respective partners for lunch, what will come to pass in that time?

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1

“Do you want to talk about it?” Paul looked at Danielle as she finished the paperwork from bringing in a woman who had an asthma attack to the A&E of the hospital he worked in.

“I am working.” Was all she responded. “And so are you.”

“Danni…”

“Paul, I…” she bit her lower lip. “I am not sure I can do this.”

Paul pulled her away from the nurses’ station gently and brought her to an examination room that was not in use, leaving the door slightly ajar. “I know; that is why you need to talk about it.”

“How do you know?”

“Diana saw me in the street, asked me if I had seen you. Her daughter showed her the piece, they know you had nothing to do with it, apparently, you know things about him that would pay off the rest of your mortgage in a bidding war.”

“I don’t have a mortgage, I sold my parents house and used my dad’s life insurance to pay for my place.” She gave a half-smile back.

“Danni, She’s worried about you.”

“Who?”

“Diana, she keeps calling your phone, so have I actually, but it’s not on.”

“Yes it is, I just made sure to keep it on the ‘do not disturb’ setting.”

“You won’t answer the door to her.”

“I was in Norfolk for a few days.”

“That shoot, I remember. How was it?”

“Good actually, it was Sherlock, so I got to see a few scenes of what’s to come.”

Paul’s face lit up “Really? I love that show, it’s brilliant. Did you meet Cumberbatch and Freeman?”

“Yes, I did actually, well, not Freeman, but Benedict was there.”

“You are on first name terms?”

“Look who I live next to.”

“Yeah, but how would that equate to him?”

“I’ll tell you later.” She shook her head, knowing there was a small chance of them being overheard in semi-public.

“How about we meet tomorrow for lunch, my place, you, me and Mac, let you get whatever it is that has been eating you off your chest? I’ll even hide anything incriminating so you can’t sell it to the papers.” Danielle gave him a bemused look. “Kidding.”

“I’m not sure Paul, I’m not really in a…”

“Look, I get it, you are a bit tossed in the air with this, for whatever reason, but I think you do actually need to be able to let it out.”

“That is why we have psych evaluations every other week.”

“No, that is for work-related crap, but for life stuff outside of that, you are on your own, but you don’t have to be.”

Danielle gave him a small smile. “Why are you so nice to me?”

“Because contrary to whatever is going on in that beautiful head of yours, I think you are amazing and worth every ounce of effort.” He gave her a cocky smile back. “Lunch?”

“Okay, I concede.”

“Wonderful, I am off in a half an hour.”

“Lunch isn’t for another twelve hours Paul.”

“I know, but I am only doing a sixteen-hour shift today.”

“The joys of working for the NHS!”

“So I will be to yours at noon, and we will have an afternoon of you being waited on, cooked for and accompanied for a walk, does that sound amiable to you, Miss Hughes?”

“I think it does.” She smiled. “Thank you, Paul, for everything.”

“My pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “You washed these after Mrs Jenkins, right?”

Danielle laughed. “Of course.”

“Good, the last thing I want is to have bunion ointment breath for my last rounds.”

“That would be a little off-putting, yes. Thank you for making me laugh.”

“I will endeavour to do so often, I happen to love your laugh.”

She smiled again but then they heard a light knock on the door. “Danielle, we are needed at a house fire.”

“Shit. Thanks, Dave.” She turned to Paul again. “I better go.”

“See you tomorrow.” He smiled, watching her leave.

*

“How am I supposed to be nice to this…I cannot even call her a woman, she is ten years younger than me and acts like a prepubescent?” Sophie hissed into her husband’s ear.

“Think about getting Tom to see the light.”

“Isn’t that a movie he was in?”

“Focus Sophie.”

“Right, here is the place, God Ben, what if this doesn’t work, why…?”

“Sophie, breathe, if it gets too much, make an excuse to leave the table for a few minutes, as long as it is believable, I doubt anyone will notice.” Ben squeezed her hand in his to give her some encouragement. “What the…”

The outside of the restaurant was a sea of snapping cameras. “Oh, God.” Sophie grimaced.

“I guess they’re here,” Ben growled quietly. “Excuse me, please.” He held Sophie next to him and tried to make his way through the paparazzi.

A few of them asked questions, he was sure he heard Tom and Taylor’s names, as well as a comment that startled him, a reference to Danielle, not by name, but by asking if he was worried about his personal stories too.

“Did I just hear…?” Sophie looked at him when they entered the restaurant.

“Yes.” Benedict confirmed, “I think it is safe to say my suspicions as to who is behind this is right.” He turned to the maître d’. “Hiddleston table, please.”

“You mean the Swift table.” The man corrected. Benedict had seen him every time he came to this restaurant in LA, chosen specifically because it was off the beaten track, quiet and not a celebrity hotspot, or at least, where people did not expect to see them. It was one of the best-kept secrets in the industry, until today, and Benedict would wager that because of Swift, it would be no longer receiving the clientele it was aimed at.

“Really?” He asked, utterly disgusted, looking at Sophie. “He can’t book a table now?”

“We’ll see what is going on.” She smiled at him, noticing they were getting close to the correct table when Tom rose to his feet, a smile on his face. “You are Sherlock after all.” Sophie gave a dry smile.

“And you are a far better sidekick than Martin, prettier too.” Benedict grinned. “Don’t tell him that, though.”

“Of course not.” Sophie turned and was enveloped in a large hug from Tom, “Tom, so long since I’ve seen you.”

“And I you, how are you both.” He grinned at her but turned slightly to greet Ben.

“Well, but a little jetlagged, you know the drill.” Ben smiled, extending his hand to Tom, who shook it enthusiastically, placing a hand on Ben’s arm as he did.

“Yes, I get that too often now, I have flown more time zones in the past few months.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, we’ve seen.” Sophie smiled politely, but her words dripping with obvious disapproval.

Tom’s smile faltered for a moment, but the sound of a throat clearing behind him caught his attention. “Where are my manners? He turned and beckoned Taylor to stand up and come over to his friends, which she did so, after a moment of a contemptuous glaring, her smile was pristine however when she got to her feet. “Ben, Sophie, I would like to formally introduce you to Taylor, Taylor, you know Benedict Cumberbatch, and this is his lovely wife Sophie.”

Taylor gave Ben a seemingly genuine smile and a kiss on the cheek, Sophie however, was treated to a glare and curt grimace of a smile. “Lovely to meet you both.”

“And for us to finally meet you, we have not had the pleasure before now, Tom, that’s solely on you.” Ben chastised playfully.

“Well, with everything…” Tom began.

“And certain people,” Taylor interjected.

Tom shifted uncomfortably; causing Benedict to realise there was actual doubt in Tom’s eyes, filling the older actor with relief that all that was required was a slight push to get him to question everything. “Yes, but let’s not dwell on that right now, how about some starters, I am quite peckish from the flight.”

The meal went by slowly as far as the Cumberbatch’s were concerned, Tom spoke as animatedly with Ben as he usually did, though there was an eagerness in him also, as though he had been yearning to talk to him for ages. Tom ensured to include a very bored looking Taylor in the conversation, explaining to her different things that had to be to comprehend the story, but she seemed only interested when she was the one speaking; name dropping and laughing at mundane things.

“Please do not think me rude, but I just want to check with mum if Christopher went down for her okay.” Sophie placed her hand on Benedict’s arm to get his attention.

“Of course darling, tell her I say hello.” He smiled, watching as Sophie went to the maitre d’ to ask where she could make a phone call privately. “Sorry, it’s just after his bedtime.”

“Don’t apologise, that’s parenting, right? On July fourth, Reynolds and his wife spent half the day on the phone to the nanny.”

“Yeah, you think at a party they would just get over it for a few hours, I mean, I know they have a kid, but what are they going to be like with another one?”

“Hopefully responsible parents.” Ben smiled back, though it was in no way a friendly one.

“Remember when we did War Horse, and the Producer was minding his kid on set,” Tom asked.

“Jesus, yes, and we were all judgement, wondering why he wouldn’t give it to a nanny. I still don’t know if it was a boy or a girl.”

“All I know was it was loud, it startled a horse.” Tom agreed, “But remember how you went on about nannies not being as bad as he thought.”

“I would not give Christopher to a nanny for all the money in the world now.” Ben acknowledged. “I mean I could if I had to, and there are a lot of damn good ones, but I would bring him to set if I could first.”

“If you could pry him from your mum.”

“She is out with me for not leaving him with her, but you know…”

“Sophie’s mum is in Scotland, she has to get her time with him too.” Tom agreed with a smile before his face turned solemn. “Can I ask what is it you are so worried about?” Benedict frowned at him. “Danielle?”

“I rather not talk about it.”

“She is just a leech, they are everywhere, I told you to get rid of her before.” Taylor dismissed, not looking up from her phone.

Benedict felt his lip curl in contempt, “I just mentioned a situation that occurred with Christopher in church at Sunday service, you know, as babies do, it’s boring, and how the priest had to be given a few extra pounds for the church’s restoration fund at the end of it as an apology, but you can imagine how that sounds in the media.”

Taylor seemed to have picked up interest in the story and nodded, as though she actually did understand, her hands on her phone under the table. Tom, however, eyed Benedict with great suspicion. “I better go to the ladies room, excuse me.” Taylor smiled sweetly. “Will you mind my phone darling?” she handed her cell to Tom and walked off.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked as soon as Taylor was out of earshot. “You don’t go to service, you gave out about your wedding being in a church.”

Benedict grinned. “I am showing you where your leak is.”

“What…” Tom paused and looked Benedict in the face. “You think the issue is Taylor?”

“Yes, I genuinely do, and now I have met her, I can honestly say, run Tom, run while you can. I believe every word Danielle said of their encounter, don’t you think the timing of your little leak is awfully convenient, Danielle tells her to go fuck herself and all of a sudden, Danielle is supposedly pouring your family secrets out for no fucking reason.”

“They never exchanged words with one another, so that is utter bull…” Tom paused when Taylor arrived back, smiling happily. “Everything alright love, you ready to go?”

Taylor seemed slightly startled by the change in atmosphere and looked between them. “Yes, this has been a very nice lunch.”

“Out of curiosity Taylor, can I ask your opinion on something, after all, you are somewhat alike to Danielle in age.” Taylor nodded. “What is your opinion of her from encountering her?”

“Rude, obsessive and willing to hurt anyone to get what she wants; that’s my impression from that less than pleasant talk.” She answered plainly.

“But you said you never spoke to her.” Tom frowned, looking at Taylor. “You said the only times you saw her were in my presence and you never spoke those times.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about when she cornered me outside your mum’s and was really horrible to me, saying all sorts of abusive things. I didn’t want to trouble you with it; it’s not fair to drag you into things.”

Tom was acutely aware of the fact they were in public, so remained silent, but to Benedict’s delight, there was clearly a fire in his eyes. “I better go get some rest, this jet lag is a bitch. Tom, please call me when that thing we were speaking about happens because I am dying for your reaction.” Ben smiled at his friend, “I’ll make sure to answer.” Sophie chose that exact moment to come back inside, looking somewhat baffled. “Darling?”

“As you expected.” She smiled back.

Benedict looked at Taylor as he spoke. “But of course.”

[hpdabbles]

Jump On In

Sirius Black was going to die. He felt it the moment Bellatrix’s curse hit its mark. He felt his body falling backward from the force of her magic. Nothing was stopping him from falling through the Veil which will be the end. 

He only regretted one thing.

As his world tilted, his feet lifting from the floor his gaze went across the room and for one fleeting second locked with green horrified eyes. Oh, the mental scar this will leave on that poor child. 

He hated Bellatrix more for the pain that mental scar will bring then her being the reason he would cease to be a living man. After twelve long years, after crawling his way out of hell- both in the physical and mental sense- he still managed to fail those green eyes that had only a few weeks ago looked up to him with such bright adoration. 

I’m so sorry.  He thinks desperately wishing he could say the words quick enough. Or say anything at all. His body was paralyzed. I’m so sorry I promised you a family and then let you down. Please know I love you. Please be happy.

Once the green was out of his sight Sirius closes his eyes, not wanting to see it happen. Not wanting to watch himself fade. He was tried. Tired of being lock up,  he was tired of living in his childhood nightmare home, but most of all he is tired of being unable to protect someone he was entrusted.

The deep sorrow he was suddenly filled with isn’t new. Its something he often felt when thinking of James, of Remus and of what he lost that Halloween night but it burns none the less that it will be the last thing he will ever feel. 

Sirius never wanted a grand ravished life, it wasn’t his goal, but he had always dreamed of having a happy one. After he escaped Azkaban, there had been a small hope he would maybe re-build his life once he got the Rat, but that was a dream was quickly turn to dust the moment Peter escaped him again.

Now, he would forever be known as a murder, a man who betrayed his best friend and his godchild was still in grave danger. 

Once more, Sirius prove his worthlessness. 

Just as his shoulders began to touch the Veil something unexpected happened. 

For something did fall from the Veil but it was not something going into it, instead it was something coming out of it.

There was a scream, long, masculine and almost muffled before something else, or more accurate someone else crashed into Sirius’s body, this time from behind, lunching them both forward. 

They landed in heap on the floor, Sirius’ nose being pressed into the ground as the male who landed on him somehow had twisted mid-air and he was awkwardly lying across the Black’s back. 

The stranger let loose a string of colorful curses, his magic swirling aggressively around them and from where Sirius could get his pupils to glance at- the only part of his body he could move- sparks of magic bursts in bright red around them.

The rest of the room was too in shock to react, as the sparks fall glittering. to the ground.

Hell, even Bellatrix was stun by the turns of events, her hand still pose in the last spell she fired at Sirius.

“That’s the last time I let them convince me to come to this stupid department again.” The stranger mumbled rising. Sirius couldn’t see him but he did hear the sicking snap of bones and the man’s strain hiss of pain. “Now where the hell am -oh shit! Did I kill someone!?”

A foot jabs into his ribs, forcing Sirius onto his back. He looks up, into the face of a long past ghost. His skin pales, while his mind rebels at what he’s seeing even when it’s everything his heart ever wanted for the past decade. 

And Sirius couldn’t even say the ghost’s name.

“James”  Remus gasps for him, somewhere in the room, sounding both horrified and amaze as Sirius feels. “James is that..you?”

Sirius watches James- it’s James! He’s back, he’s alive! Sure he looks younger than what Sirius remembers but it’s him- twist his head to look in what he thinks is the werewolf’s direction but his head stops short on the way. 

Instead, his childhood best friend seems to have noticed a certain witch.

James’ face clouds over in cold hatred. His hand shoots down to his wand and he has it pointed at Bellatrix. “You”  

The next thing Sirius knows, a fight breaks out. The ceasefire of which James cause by his arrival apparently lifted and everyone went back to what they were doing. Which was trying to kill one another?

Sirius felt useless there on the ground, back against cold stone, with a green eye teenager hovering next to him, fighting off any of the Death Eaters that came near them. The young girl had made her way over once breaking from Remus’ shock slag hold.

Marlin, but his goddaughter is a fierce fighter when she wants to be. If only she didn’t need to, she’s just a kid. 'He’s the adult that should be doing the protecting!

“I’ll keep you safe Sirius! Just hold on. I’ll move you-”  Hyacinth shouts cutting herself off to scream “Expelliarmus!” in a direction then quickly aim her wand in another “Flipendo!”

“You killed my godfather!” James sneers somewhere in the room, further away now, his magic washing over everyone in a near suffocating wave that causes some of the fighters to stumble. “Prepare to die!” 

Desperately, Sirius tried to crane his eyes in the direction of the battle while hands grab him from under the armpits attempting to drag him to safety. There was a bright light of red and Bellatrix screams. 

James seems to have landed a hit, diving one of the most talented witches away. He is familiar with her favorite quick escape. Sirius bites back a smile when he hears James swear viciously about her getaway like he knew he would.

The Potter then turns his attention to the rest of the room and the remaining players.

Suddenly more spells, more flashes, and voices shoot as the chaos of battle rages on. Sirius misses most of it but eventually the Death Eaters all retreat and he can hear the relieved sigh of the winning side. They had won this battle but the war was far from over, in fact, this may as well be the beginning of it.

Sirius hates to think he’s going to have to live through another blood socked era but at least he will live. Would see his goddaughter grow. He is grateful for just that.

Then James is back staring at everyone, with a frown.

He doesn’t look worse for wear, even though there is a cut on his cheek bleeding and he still seems too young. Sirius tears up just looking at him, as the numb feeling in his limbs began to fade away.

He reaches a desperate hand towards him at the same time Remus rushes in for a hug. Everyone else tenses up, wary and unsure of what’s happening. 

They both pause when James points a wand at them.  “Alright, what kind of sick game is this? Showing me these faces, do you all want to die?”

“J-James?”  

His best friend’s face cools a few degrees, his lips press into a tight line. “Don’t call me that. Not while wearing his face. It hurt too much the first time he did it but now it’s just plain rude.”

It’s an expression that belongs more on a Slytherin than the fun-loving Lion he knew that makes Sirius take a deeper look at him and realize with a heart-crushing start.

His eyes were green. He was shorter. He was leaner. He had more soft curves.

This...was not James. But then, who was he?

“Dad?” Hyacinth whispers stepping forward, looking at the Not-James with wide hopeful eyes. Sirius almost kicks himself. He let her get around him! Hadn’t he just been thinking he needed to protect her!?

“Sorry, I’m not your dad. Name’s Harry Potter. Who are you? Why do you look like me?”

“Potter?” Hyacinth repeats straightening from the disappointed slouch she fell into.  “I’m Hyacinth Potter! Are we related?”

Harry closes his eyes as if pain and the Order move to stand protectively around Hyacinth. He may have fought with them, but that doesn’t mean he’s on their side especially if that’s his reaction to the Girl-Who-Lived.

No one is expecting him to curse Hyacinth’s boyfriend.  

“Dammit Ron, you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

When he opens them again Sirius suddenly thinks of Lily, after she caught the Manderlers doing something mischevious. Tired, fond and a bit put out upon.

“Alright, so my idiot best friend, Ron Weasley, anciently pushed me though the Veil while I was holding one of the Deathly Hollows. Based on what my other best friend Hermione Granger said, the Deathly Hollow should keep people alive when they fall through but not in their own world. She theorized that this could lead to an alternate dimension and we were studying the Veil to prove or disprove it.   Are you following me?”  Harry pauses to watch Hyacinth nod before carrying on.  “I guess you and I would be considered siblings? My parents are also James Potter and Lily Potter, so we are the same person but I’m from a dimension where I’m a boy, obviously. What’s different here? I may be able to find a way back home if I can figure out how different, and thus how far our dimensions are from one another.”

“Er, um, well, I’m a girl and, um, Ron’s my best friend but he’s also my boyfriend” Hyacinth scrambles to answer riling back from the amount of information Harry, her “older brother”, dump on her.  

Harry’s eyes widen then a brilliant smirk of triumph bloom on his face. It was such a James expression, Sirius almost cried. “You got Ronald Weasley as a lover? Good job. I’m still trying to bag mine, but it’s great to know one version of me succeded”

Hyacinth turns bright red but she looked oddly, please. Maybe since it was the first time someone congratulated her for her relationship.

“Who confessed to who? What was your first date? You must tell me everything.” Harry continues.

“I confessed first, towards the end of the second year, but our first official date wasn’t till the summer. He came to get me with his big brothers, Fred and George.” Hyacinth darn near swoons and Sirius makes a mental note to thank the red-heads again for rescuing her from her abusive aunt. “We went ice-skating and then-”

“Um excuse me?” Remus cuts in. “Are we really doing this? Now?”

Harry looks sad but shrugs. He tilts his chin at Hyacinth “We’ll continue this later.”

She doesn’t answer but a small smile stretches her cheeks as she bobs her head in turn.

“Right” Harry claps his hands.  “We best get this all straighten out. So who’s going to stun me so they can start the questioning? Oh please don’t look so surprised. I fought a war with you guys. I’m training to be an Auror right now too. I know how this works. Can’t trust me until you prove I’m honest. Let’s get this over with”

As soon as he says it, a spell hits him square in the chest. Harry drops like a bag of bricks.

“Remus!”

“What? He said to do it”

[annoyedbritishperson]

Adrenaline

This is like an add on to the coffee thing but what if they try to use adrenaline to poison us but it just causes us to hulk out on them

—————————————————————

The war caused by the Drashkein senators “assassination” was brutal, and no battlefield more brutal than that of Sagittarius 16-A. The battle began on the Human date: 18/1/2386 (universal date: 29/72/7690), on a former human colony located on the outskirts of the Milky Way galaxy; named due to the fact that on the humans native planet the system was located within the Sagittarius “constellation”. I say former as all civilians were either evacuated or killed in the initial invasion. It was an act of hostility on the Drashkeins part; one they knew they had the upper hand in.

For a bit of detail the Drashkein are 6ft ish tall reptile like quadrupeds with two arms and fairly thick scales (the space equivalent to hard plastic, difficult to break but not impenetrable) and are typically minimalistic with their armour as a result, their top speed is around 25mph (40 km/h), they have small but sharp teeth and rely more on the sharpness than jaw strength. They’re ectothermic and have to stay in temperature areas within the 30-40 Celsius range, anything below 25 Celsius and they’ll suffer hypothermia; as a result they wear a bodysuit built with internal heating. They have orange and brown striped eyes. Drashkein have a tail used for balance and have a claw at the end that’s used for grip during fights, less for slicing but some will sharpen it, mostly those on front lines, they have large scales on the pads of their feet to help with grip instead of claws and four eyes, two forward facing and two side facing, despite their intimidating appearance they still fell prey to many creatures on their planet, notably the pack hunting carnivores. This could’ve possibly caused a distrust in the humans even before the coffee incident though no one can be sure of it now.

The skies are dark and overcast, cold spiking with every breath of wind. The grounds around the battlefield are heavily trampled from troops and heavy machinery, crisp foliage flattened to the ground. The first victims of war strewn across no-mans-land, abandoned and broken. Many of the corpses left in the crossfire territory were of human origin, whether humans themselves or the companions commonly known as “pets” of whom died trying to protect their masters. Not all of the fatalities were human, however, a fair amount of Drashkein bodies could be seen lain in the dirt. As for why they were left to rot there is a simple explanation: it was too risky. There was little reason to collect them, the weapons weren’t anything more powerful than handled weapons and by now the organs would be useless and ships carrying them off to be buried with family would be at risk of being shot down, thereby allowing more to die for no cause.

Unlike the trenches used in the human world wars there were above ground bases protected by force fields. The buildings themselves weren’t meant to be permanent, and wouldn’t fare well if shot at, as a result of the forcefields providing such adequate protection. Unfortunately they weren’t one-way force fields (of which I mean you can’t shoot through one side and be protected from the other, the force field would prevent any high velocity objects from passing on either side) no one had thought any use in inventing one, it was an admittedly difficult task to complete, as well as the fact that it was thought that it would allow for both sides of the feud time to think of a diplomatic solution around the violent one. Another negative side effect of the force fields were that radio waves couldn’t penetrate them either, meaning that if you’d want to launch an attack you’d need to do it manually, outside, in the open, instead of in the protection of the field, making messaging infinitely more troublesome.

Intending on claiming the planet and chasing off, if not killing, all of the humans the Drashkein began carrying out their scheme. It was simple. Firstly, gain the high ground; then you’ll be at less risk of attack and you have the offensive advantage. Obviously the humans knew. Naturally by having the high ground they would have a significant advantage. They’d easily win, like the famed human warrior, Obi-wan against Anakin.

But before they could launch their plan of attack they first had to gain the high ground. This was easily accomplished. Quiznar Enron of the invasion forces ordered his next in command to his office setup.

“You requested my presence?” Gorn stated as he entered the room to be met with his superior standing with his back to Gorn, staring out across the barren battlefields through the one-way glass.

“Yes - I have a orders for you to distribute. Send word to our troops to extend the force fields backwards”

A curt nod was given as his reply. Acknowledging the command Gorn left to distribute the order to their troops. No time was wasted as they completed the orders, carefully extending their force field back and up the hill until they were on top, viewing the scene of their soon-to-be land. Though the humans noticed, they did little to prevent it, after all, who would stop an enemy from backing away.

*

On the front lines for the human troops a Sargent kept watch over the Drashkein bunker. This was...suspicious, to say the least.

“Sir, What are you looking at?” Lieutenant Rodgers asked, briskly snapping the Sargent out of his deep thoughts.

“Lieutenant, do you notice how the Drashkein are retreating their force fields?”

“Um....yes. But I don’t understand why-“ Sargent Nicolas cut him off before he could finish.

“They’re retreating but not leaving. That’s my point, if they were actually backing down wouldn’t they be packing onto ships?”

“Now that I think about it, yes... what are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting: that this is a form of attack tactic. Send word to command, it might be just a hunch but we’re better safe than sorry”

“Yes sir” the lieutenant stated, giving a nod before exiting to deliver the message.

A small message team is put together, a messenger to send the message and three to protect the messenger. While there are many advantages to having a force field, sending messages wasn’t one of them, mainly due to the risk that they‘re put in just to send one. The team set out towards the nearby communications tower, going as fast as they dared and as quietly as a sigo (a small twelve limbed rodent like creature, famous for its silence so pure it could sneak on board ships and go unnoticed for weeks, months, on a couple of occasions even years!) so as to not arouse any unwanted attention. This worked well - for a while.

A twig suddenly snapped in the distance midway through transmission. One of the three message guards shushed the team with an almost silent hiss as they turned towards the source of the noise. Heads bowed low, they raised their weapons; fingers on triggers, aimed towards the origin of the noise, ready to fire at the slightest indication of attack. You could hear the calm rustle of leaves in the wind, juxtaposing the tense atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife. An eerie silence followed. No one lowered their weapons.

Suddenly a flash of neon orange emits from behind a twisted and old djan tree, hitting the lead guard square in the shoulder. Chancing a peek, the Drashkein soldier looks from behind the wide trunk of the tree, only to be immediately berated under fire but not before he’s able to see the damage he did. Unfortunately, that was very little; it only appeared to have burned the human a little. No cuts. No heavy bleeding. It was as if the wound had healed itself as it was shot. It didn’t even knock the human off balance. The Drashkein knew he couldn’t just hide behind the tree forever though, the humans would definitely turn the corner and kill him.

Unfortunately for the humans, he didn’t come alone, he was merely the closest to get a shot and they were soon surrounded and being fired upon. The increased fire upon the team instantly caught their attention, realising that they were outnumbered three to one they cut their losses on the transmission and fled. Firing furiously behind them as they ran, the damage dealt by the Drashkein plasma blasters started to take their toll. The guards were the ones who felt it the most, the messenger being protected by them by a human shield type formation. Until one by one the burns became too much and they collapsed just in view of those inside the force field. Several Drashkein met their end as a result of this persuit, however this was the fate for all of the humans sent to the transmissions tower.

In a last ditch attempt to save them a nearby commander who witnessed the whole ordeal, ordered several dozen soldiers to take up arms and return fire. Noticing how they were now in danger the Drashkein fighters fled.

*

“Sir, the interception team were successful in killing all three guards and the messenger but were unable to prevent transmission.”

Quiznar Enron remained silent, all four eyes closed, hands held behind his back. There’s a pause, Gorn stayed silent, unsure as to whether it was appropriate to ask.

“...Sir?” Gorn asked timidly. He began to wonder whether Enron had even heard him.

“They couldn’t even follow those simple orders” his tone was quiet, but the danger heard in them made his second in command shift backwards slightly.

“I’ve been informed that they compensated...by destroying the human transmission tower...this should hopefully prevent them from calling for backup”

“For all our sakes it better be.”

Sensing a likely escalation Gorn took his leave.

*

While there was no escalation within the safety of the Quiznars’ office the battle outside escalated drastically. Soon there were regular troops firing at the opposing forces and it didn’t take long for one side to begin gaining the upper hand. With their previous acquisition of the high ground you could guess who had gained the upper hand in battle.

And it showed who was winning, human forces began to dwindle from the thousands that had been sent to less than half while barely a quarter of Drashkein troops were killed. The humans couldn’t even call for back up due to their communications being cut off. The humans were stranded and left to die, and Quisnar Enron knew this.

“Gorn, report on the battle”

“Yes sir. The human forces have been culled drastically and fewer than half of their troops on planet remain and there is no sign of tactic change and back up is virtually impossible due to communication failure”

“Good”

“Is that all?”

“No, I’d like you to initiate the next step of my plan”

“What would the orders be then?”

“Launch our Demi-missiles, the gases should easily penetrate the ground and get through their force fields that way”

“Which gasses?”

“...adrenaline”

Gorn turns to execute the order before he’s called back.

“Have all our troops ready to storm the human base with gas protection suits. Get me one as well, I want to be there when they launch too”

“Yes...Sir” Gorn replied before leaving, he hated the humans for what they did to their leader as well, but didn’t think they deserved to suffer THAT much.

*

Lieutenant Rodgers burst into the Sargents’ office with such force it caused him and several items to jump. “Sir! Several small missile like weapons have been launched! A large amount of our forces are still located outside the force fields!” He yelled in desperation after the short smack of his speedy entrance resounded through the office.

Thinking on his feet he realised that if they opened the force field it would put numerous others at risk, with their dwindling numbers this wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. But as he opened his mouth to give orders there was the unmistakable thump of something heavy piercing the ground outside. The two rushed out of the office without a second thought. They prepared themselves to witness broken corpses of their serving men and women but what they saw were the dozen Demi-missiles dug into the ground. It was a particularly sunny day on the planet, and you can just about see the silhouettes of the Drashkein forces watching down on the humans, as if waiting for something.

Everyone seems to be holding their breath, until one soldier calls out. “They...didn’t go off?”

Silence reclaims the atmosphere until a silent hiss emanates from the Demi-missiles one at a time, and a magenta gas begins to rise from its contents.

“RUN!”

And that’s just what they did, both armies; the Drashkein running towards the humans and the humans away from both them and the gas. But they aren’t quick enough, the wind direction is blowing directly towards the human base, leaving two options: suffer the fate of this mysterious gas or face the wrath of the charging Drashkein army. Some opted for the army, most decided to choose the gas, since it was thankfully dark enough to conceal their presence and maybe allow a chance of escape. This was a small chance though.

The thundering footsteps of the Drashkein fleet only got louder and louder as they drew near, until they too were enveloped by the gas. Thankfully for them, their gas masks and bodysuits kept the gas out. Blind to their surroundings all the humans could do is wait. But with every breath they took, thinking it as their last, a pure wave of blind confidence came upon them. Feeling as if they could spit fire or punch down a mountain they spontaneously turned to attack the Drashkein fleet, who were just as blind within the gas as the humans.

Thinking it was a faster death than expected Quiznar Enron called out to his troops. “No activity, they’re all presumed dea-“

He couldn’t finish the sentence. It came out of nowhere, a mere shadow in the darkness of the gas. Lieutenant Rodgers had just sliced across Enron’s throat with a broken piece of metal. The gas began to snake its way into the wound and through the leaders respiratory system. He collapsed. Falling from his mid limbs to his hind limbs in a melodramatic manner, his eyes looked desperate and pleading but even if anyone wanted to help now, it would be too late. He choked on his last breath as his army fell around him. Humans left right and centre were practically ripping them apart with their bare hands. None seemed affected by the adrenaline, in fact, they appeared to be strengthened by it.

This was too much for Gorn, as the gas dissipated he realised the consequences of the act; the bloodlust these unassuming creatures held. He was one of the few surviving but with the air clearing up he would soon become a ‘sitting duck’. He fled. He had never ran so fast in his life but the position of safety was against him, the incline practically pulling him down. He could hear his hearts pounding so loud in his chest he knew those demons could hear it too.

He wouldn’t stop for his life, and of course this was true; before he could realise what had happened he noticed an unnatural amount of lubricant on the left side of his upper-middle section. Fuck. It was blood. Soon collapsing at the foot of the base he allowed himself to the mercy of the humans. Unfortunately, they had little to give. That was it. That was the end of their battle. The humans, against all odds had won, not a single Drashkein was left alive.

(AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! This took longer than I expected! Sorry that it did, life likes to bite people in the ass. Anyway, feel free to give feedback and to add on, I always love reading them!)