#covered in his brothers blood as she sneers and jumps from the window. He reaches out for her

[youareunbearable]

hummm I am in the mood for some Maedhros Angst

[messers-moony]

He’s Safe With Me | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Half-Blood!Reader

Summary: A little boy brightens Regulus’ days after his brother leaves him.

Inspiration: Click & Click

Growing up always left a bittersweet taste in people's mouths. While it was nice to gain freedom and more privileges that growing up included, the new responsibilities made it bitter. It was the leaving, the stress, and the idea of putting your childhood behind you that brought the sour taste to people's tongues. 

Regulus never thought that he’d have to grow up so fast. 

The summer months were always Regulus’ favorite. They were the months that, despite everything, Sirius would come home to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and be a resident there for the two months of holiday. Maybe during Hogwarts, they would sneer at each other and argue with one another, but at home, it wasn’t like that. 

Sirius was sixteen, and Regulus was fifteen, but that didn’t stop Sirius from taking the hits meant for Regulus. It didn’t stop him from taking the blame, so Regulus was safe. Afterward, Regulus would hear Sirius whimpering in his bedroom and silent cries. Sometimes, he’d even fall asleep outside his door, or if he were brave enough, he’d go inside and lay beside him. 

They were boys, but from the moment they were born, they had to be adults. Their childhood was stripped from them, and responsibilities piled on top of another. From the minute they were born, they had to sit straight, use proper manners, try to court girls, be charming, study, and be mature, but they were boys. They were bound to be a ruckus. 

Regulus could remember running around Uncle Alphard with Sirius when he was three. Uncle Alphard had a vast plot of land with a big house on the corner. He had cherry blossom trees planted all around the manor, and it gave the boys an area to run. When Regulus caught up to him, eventually, he’d jump on his brother's back, and Sirius always caught him when he fell. 

So why couldn’t Sirius catch him now?

He heard the window open from Sirius’ room and already had a feeling he knew what was happening. Earlier that day, he heard the shuffling of clothes and items in the room beside his own. Regulus swallowed the growing lump in his throat and opened Sirius’ door to find exactly what he suspected. Sirius had a trunk packed and head out of the window. When the door opened, he hit his head on the bottom of the window. 

“God damn it.” Sirius muttered in pain as he retracted from halfway out the window. 

“Sirius…?” Regulus hated how small his voice sounded. 

Sirius turned to face his little brother fiddling with a Gryffindor tie, tears in his eyes, “Regulus….”

“Please, wait.” Regulus pleaded softly, and Sirius wanted to, but he couldn’t, “Reg, I- I can’t. I can’t stay here anymore.” Sirius stuttered as tears filled his vision. 

Why couldn’t Sirius stay? He felt like a little boy again begging and pleading for Sirius to hold him during the thunderstorms that used to take cover of the skies. Mother always dragged him out of the bedroom, and Regulus would be left wailing begging for Sirius. Regulus would sit on his bed crisscrossed, holding a blanket close to his heart, praying, “Please, Siri, please.”

He could remember when Sirius and Regulus were forced to become enemies. Remembering when Sirius came home from his first year, he was shut in his room with multiple locks. Regulus would weep beg for him to save him from their mother and father. When the first Cruciatus Curse hit, he screamed Sirius’ name. 

“Please, Siri, you- you can’t leave.”

“Regulus,” Sirius stepped forward to cup his brother's cheek who reached just beneath his chin, “I’m sorry.”

Regulus leaned into his brother's touch, knowing it would probably be the last time, “I wanna be home….” 

“You are home, Regulus.” Sirius replied, confused but still soft and Regulus looked up at him with tears streaming down his face, “Home is wherever I’m with you….”

Sirius had tears trickling down his pale cheeks as he placed his chin on top of Regulus’ head, embracing him tightly, “Please don’t go….”

“Please. I’m begging you.” Regulus was whimpering, keening, wailing, “Siri, please.”

“It’s safer with me gone.” Sirius confessed, “You’ll be safer here. They won’t use the crucio curse on you, not with you being the only one left.”

Regulus was fisting the back of his shirt, the Gryffindor tie still in his hand, “They know that if they hurt one of us, the other one hurts more. With me gone, that leverage disappears.”

“I don’t care.” Regulus cried, “I just want you.”

Sirius kissed the top of his head and parted from his brother's tight embrace, “I love you, Regulus.”

“But-“ Regulus swallowed, “You love James more.”

Sirius didn’t answer, and Regulus let his head fall, staring at the wooden floor, fiddling with the silk tie. He felt guilty. He felt like it was all his fault. Maybe if Regulus had taken more curses, perhaps if he had been a better brother. Maybe if Regulus were strong enough to disobey his parents as Sirius did, then Sirius wouldn’t be leaving right now. 

“Perhaps not in this lifetime, but perhaps in another, I’d be able to stay.” Sirius replied solemnly, leaving Regulus’ heart to shatter like a ripped piece of paper. 

Regulus sniffled, “I guess… this is goodbye.”

“I suppose it is,” Sirius said as he approached the window again. 

This time Regulus didn’t stop him. He knew he had nothing on James. Regulus would always be second to James no matter how hard he tried. Sirius threw the trunk onto the outside ground and sat on the edge of the window, looking beneath him. He turned around one more time before leaping onto the soft grass. 

Maybe the summer months weren’t Regulus’ favorite months anymore. 

The start of fifth year was dreadful. Regulus didn’t feel anything when he approached the Hogwarts Express. It felt like half of his heart had gone and disappeared. All the compartments were full, and Regulus would have to share with someone, which worsened the experience.

He saw the Marauders compartment. It was filled with the usual four boys, but inside was a girl. She was stunning with her soft appearing hair and sharp features. She was the epitome of beauty, and she made the entire compartment laugh with a quick wit she seemed to have made. 

Regulus passed it until he found a compartment with Lucius Malfoy and Evan Rosier. He slid the door open and took place beside Evan. Both boys welcomed him in with a smile. He couldn’t help but think back to the girl in the Marauders compartment. He had seen her before, but he couldn’t place it where. 

She hadn’t changed into her robes, so it was impossible to know what house she was in, but she still looked stunning in Muggle clothing. He noticed her style was comparative to Sirius’. The black ripped jeans, the doc martens on her feet, and a tee-shirt he couldn’t make out due to the jacket she wore over it. 

They entered Hogwarts and went into the Great Hall, where everyone sat at their respected tables. Regulus couldn’t help himself but try and search for her. He was shocked when she entered the Great Hall with green and silver robes. 

It didn’t make sense. Why did she get to be included? The Marauders hated Slytherins, yet she seemed to be so close with them. Regulus was a Slytherin, and he was related to one of the Marauders, yet he still wasn’t included. His heart swelled with a sense of jealousy and envy. 

Nonetheless, she took her seat beside Leia, a pureblood with long brown hair and blue eyes. They were talking until the sorting ceremony began. The sorting ceremony was long and drawled out, but the girl looked strangely intrigued. She watched intently as a little boy with shaggy brown hair and green eyes who was introduced as Romeo L/n sat onto the stool where McGonagall placed the hat onto his head.

It pondered for a while, a maximum of two minutes, but the hat finally exclaimed, “Slytherin!” The boy smiled brightly and approached the girl. He was bouncing over to her with a gleeful smile on his face. The little boy had dimples and straight teeth. He hugged her tightly, and she kissed his cheek. 

“Congratulations, Romeo.” 

“I’m just like you, sis!” Romeo grinned. 

She smiled, “You’re just like me, love.”

“Congratulations, Ro!” Leia exclaimed, “So happy for you.”

He hugged the other girl, “Thanks, Leia.”

“C’mere, Rom,” Y/n patted the seat beside her, “Sit.”

The little boy sat beside his sister and allowed her to put her arms around his neck, holding him close to her chest, “Love you, Romeo.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Regulus grimaced. So she had a little brother, and her name was Y/n. Regulus looked back at the stool where first years were sitting. He glanced slightly at Sirius from across the room, who was smiling brightly as James placed an arm around his shoulders. Regulus would always be second best. 

The first few weeks of fifth-year weren’t that bad. It went smoothly, and people didn’t talk to Regulus. He was cold and snappy. It turned people away, which he was thankful for. He didn’t want people to talk to him. He felt numb and unresponsive, like he was the shell of who he uses to be. 

He was in the library with a Transfiguration book in front of him. The pages were dull, and he couldn’t retain anything he was reading. He missed Sirius’ brilliance in Transfiguration. He missed Sirius tutoring him in hidden places of the library so their mother wouldn’t curse him for low marks. 

A hand had gently tugged at his robe, and he went to snap when he saw familiar green eyes, “Um, excuse me, you’re Regulus, right?”

“Yeah, Regulus Black.” Regulus replied, hoping the last name would deter him, but the boy only smiled, “I’m Romeo L/n. Professor Slughorn said that you could tutor me in Potions.”

Romeo sat across from Regulus and plopped down his supplies, “I’m absolutely rubbish at Potions, but my marks in Herbology and Charms are pretty okay. Mum says they need work, but I’m trying the best I can.”

Regulus tilted his head, “What are your marks in Herbology and Charms?”

“I have an Exceeds Expectations in both.” Romeo muttered, “Mum says that I can do better, though.”

“Exceeds Expectations is good. That’s remarkable for a first year. You’re starting out with no knowledge. For just starting, I’d say you’re doing great.” Regulus replied. 

He didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort this boy. Maybe because he saw himself in the boy in front of him, he could hear his own mother scolding him for his Acceptable in Transfiguration in his first year. 

“Will you tutor me, please?”

Regulus hesitated, “I guess I’m not great at Potions either.”

“Y/n says your fantastic!” Romeo replied, “She talks about you quite a bit.”

“She does?”

“Mhm!” He hummed, “Used to send me letters at home talking about you.”

Regulus’ face flushed, and he gave a tiny smile, “I didn’t even know who she was.”

“She does that on purpose. She knew you wouldn’t like her because of her relationship with Sirius. They’re close friends.” 

“Have you spoken to any of them?”

“Yeah.” Romeo's smile was bright, “Sirius was the one who told me to talk to you. He said that you were nice.” 

“Sirius did?”

“Yeah, and Y/n, of course.” 

Regulus smiled; maybe Sirius wasn’t completely gone, “I’ll tutor you.”

“You will?”

“Yeah. Why not.” 

Without a second thought, Romeo had jumped up and embraced the older boy. Regulus stiffened, and Romeo pulled away with wide green eyes, “I’m- I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Regulus embraced the boy again, and Romeo leaned into his touch. He felt safe in the Black boy's arms, almost the same feeling he got when Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus’ embrace was soft, comforting, and sweet. Romeo could smell the broom polish from being the Slytherin Seeker, cinnamon, and a hint of sandalwood. 

Romeo gave Regulus a smile before sitting back down, and they began studying together. Later that evening, Romeo had entered the Great Hall for dinner with him. The first year smiled at him before approaching his sister at the Gryffindor table, where he took his spot beside her. 

“Hey, Rom.” Y/n greeted, “Hey, sis.” 

“Did you talk to Regulus?” Y/n asked, “Is he gonna tutor you?”

Romeo nodded, “Yeah! He’s really nice!” 

Sirius gave a subtle smile, “That’s brilliant, Romeo.”

Romeo and Regulus became quick friends despite Regulus’ reluctance. Romeo thought of Regulus like an older brother, and Regulus protected him like one. He was a target for many older Gryffindors, and Regulus would always take the hits or duel them for him. 

These actions didn’t come without consequences. Regulus’ home life got worse, and letters often came about his friendship with the other Slytherin boy. They didn’t enjoy the fact that they were half-bloods and didn’t believe in pureblood supremacy. Regulus would sit in the Astronomy tower with the letter reading it with a dry face looking at the stars. 

The door to the tower opened, and Regulus didn’t move. Their footsteps were light and patted across the concrete until they saw him. She sat beside him with her legs crossed while Regulus dangled. She saw the parchment in his hand and took it from them. He allowed it. There was nothing terrible in it other than his mother threatening to throw him out if he didn’t stop talking to that half-blood. 

She read it while Regulus stared at the night sky. Y/n placed it back down on the concrete pavement without a word. She fiddled with her hands and put them back in her lap. Regulus was so silent and so peaceful. But she had to break the silence.

“I really appreciate you doing what you do for Romeo.” Y/n said quietly, “He thinks of you like an older brother.”

Regulus chuckled softly, “He’s energetic, that one.”

“Yeah. He’s got a lot of energy.” Y/n replied, “He hates sitting still. But he really appreciates that you can work with that.” 

“He gets irritating sometimes, but I try to keep him intrigued.”

“It works.”

“I’m glad.”

It was silent again, “I’m sure he’s told you plenty. He’s not very good at keeping secrets.”

Regulus smirked, and for a moment, he looked like Sirius, “You wrote letters about me?”

“I like you, Regulus.” Y/n confessed, “More than I should.”

He intertwined his hand with hers, “I like you too.”

Y/n smiled at squeezed his hand. Regulus leaned his head on her shoulder and began to tell her about the stars. He went into extreme depth of every constellation, planet, and star. Y/n noticed that he skipped Canis Major but didn’t say anything. She knew of Sirius’ departure the previous summer and how badly Regulus had been hurt thanks to Sirius’ description. It wasn’t good to rub salt in a still-open wound. 

When Regulus got the mark months later, they didn’t separate. She stood by his side and helped him through it. They didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Romeo. It wasn’t until the war was over that they decided to let everyone know. Y/n had allowed a sigh of relief when she found out that Peter was in Azkaban and her friends were still alive. 

Regulus was sleeping when she grabbed a bit of parchment to write to Sirius. Y/n dipped the quill in black ink and began writing smoothly. The ink embedded the paper like old friends, and when it dried, she handed it to her owl, Astoria. The following afternoon when Remus and Sirius were still entangled together from the previous night, the owl tapped on the window. 

Sirius groaned and stood up from the bed. He grabbed the parchment as the owl flew off. The writing was perfect calligraphy, and Sirius smiled at the note written on the parchment. His heart slowed its beat with relief. 

“He’s safe with me.”

[salty-rey]

Come Back | Bad Batch Fan Fic

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Words: 1748 words

Warnings: Angst. Reader gets hurt, mention of blood

A/N: I gave you romance with Fives last time. Now, time for some PAIN!!! I told yall I wanted to make a Bad Batch fan fic, I just didn’t expect my first one to be like this. 

Pretty short, I wanted to write it down before I lose any inspiration, and I have to get back to my finals. 

Hope you guys like! 

(gif courtesy of @clxnewxrs​ )

- - - - - - -

This plan has gone to crap!

It was supposed to be simple. Get into the command center, retrieve the necessary intel, and get out. Something you’ve done many times before. Piece of cake! 

But last time you remembered, you did not have a child following you around. Omega insists on coming along, even going against Hunter’s orders. Because of her disregard of orders, she had tripped an alarm, alerting the guards to your position. But you couldn’t blame her. Even if she didn’t came along, something wasn’t going to go according to plan. She’s not a soldier and wasn’t trained like you and the rest of the Bad Batch. There were some tasks or missions that were fine for the young clone to come along, but this mission was more dangerous. 

One good reason why; Crosshair had finally tracked you down.

The Batch had split up during the mission, aiming to complete your objectives. Before you can all regroup, that is when Crosshair and his Elite Squad Trooper caught up to the group. And you had the unfortunate case of protecting Omega from the sniper, who was now standing in front of you. With the only exit blocked by your former comrade, the only way to escape was to shoot your way out or leap out an 80 storied building. 

“Crosshair, please! Don’t do this,” you pleaded, body shielding Omega as the young girl cowered behind you.

“I can bring you back alive,” The grey-haired clone spoke, raising his handheld blaster to your chest without hesitation. “Or in a body bag. Your choice, Freckles.”

You tense, staring down the barrel of the blaster, wondering for a second if it was put on lethal or stun mode. You felt Omega gripping your arm, sparing a glance at the child before looking back at Crosshair. His eyes held no remorse. There was no more warmth in those honey-brown eyes. Your heart shattered at the sight of him, your fists clenching to keep yourself composed. 

“This isn’t you, Crosshair. That damn chip is manipulating you!” You snapped, keeping your stance and hoping to buy some time for Hunter and the others to assist you. 

“You would have never shot Wrecker before, no matter how much he annoyed you. And you would never point a gun at me. Come back to us. We can find a way to free you from that chip. We know it’s not your fault, and we don’t blame you for your actions. Please,” you begged, your voice breaking a little as you reached your hand towards him. 

The clone stared hard at your hand, his shoulders tensed before locking eyes with yours. He can see the desperation in them, unshed tears causing your eyes to glisten. This was a familiar sight. Not too long ago, when all of you were imprisoned back on Kamino, you had the same expression. 

Crosshair was being taken away from the rest of the group for unknown reasons. Hunter, in his attempt to keep everyone together, received a harsh hit on his gut. The sergeant doubled over in pain, but no one dare moved to aid him as blasters were pointed at everyone. The clone shook his head at the sight of his sergeant before standing up. As he took one step forward, he felt a tug, keeping him in place. Looking back, he saw you gripping his hand with all the strength you have. 

You were looking up at him, silently begging him not to go. The corner of your eyes shedding small tears, your hand squeezing his ever so tighter. 

“Let’s go!” The clone guard exclaimed, his patience wearing thin. 

Crosshair felt something foreign in him, telling him to obey. He knows that he should stay. He knows that he should fight against these mindless regs. He’s not like them. He belongs here with his brothers, and with you. 

But, fighting the regs unarmed will just cause unnecessary casualties. And he can’t stand the idea of having his brothers’ blood on his hands. Especially a kid that is apparently a little sister. And you. 

The thought of losing you caused him to shiver in fear. An emotion that he rarely felt, until you joined the team. 

The sniper looked back at you once more, squeezing your hand in return. He gave you a reassuring look that was also apologetic and sorrowful. 

You knew that there was no getting out of this. That there was no way in saving him. With a heavy sob, you let go of his hand, allowing him to be taken by the guards. 

His hands were now trembling, causing the blaster to become unsteady. “Crosshair?” You said with uncertainty. The sniper’s eyes snapped back at you, having lost focus for a few seconds. 

“So, you miss me? How sweet,” he sneered, but his hands continued to shake. 

You relaxed your posture for a second, pulling your hand back before pressing it against your chest, right over your heart. “I have. So very much.”

Something must have snapped inside of the clone because his eyes became unfocused, and his hands were trembling harder. He was in pain, his free hand gripping the side of his head, eyes squeezing shut as the blaster fell from his hand. You watched as Crosshair internally fought against the inhibitor chip, hope slowly rising inside of you. 

As you slowly approached him, you failed to hear the thundering sound of boots approaching you. The only indication that you got was hearing Omega gasping before shouting, “Look out!”

The moment you spotted the Elite Squad Trooper raising his blaster, you felt the searing hot pain piercing your side, and a blood-curling scream echoed throughout the room. You fell to your knees, clutching your left side, where the blaster shot hit you. 

Luckily, you were wearing the specialized armor that the Bad Batch wear, so the blast wasn’t able to pierce the other side. But you can feel blood pooling out, and if you don’t get any aid soon, you’re going to die. 

Before the trooper can shoot you again, he let out a shout of pain as Crosshair’s fist collided with his buckethead before punching his gut. “I told you to stun the woman and to shoot the men!” He snarled before kicking the hunched-over trooper. 

As Crosshair’s attention was on the reg, Omega rushed to your side. Panting heavily, you grabbed a tool from your utility belt and wrapped an arm around the girl’s midsection. “Hold on...tight...and whatever...you do...don’t let go.”

“What are you---whoa!” Omega cried out as you picked her up and charged at the window. The girl screamed when your shoulder crashed into the window, both of you plummeting over the edge. Neither Crosshair nor the troopers reacted quick enough to catch you, watching the both of you fall to what appears to be your death. 

You reached out your arm, pointing your modified grappling gun, and pulled the trigger. The claw-like end soar shot through the air, piercing the closes building, secured in place. The pair of you swing through the cold night air, Omega’s arms and legs wrapped around your neck and waist. 

Before you could crash into another building, you released the trigger, the grapple unhooking from your end. You rolled onto the rooftop of a building, shielding Omega in the progress. Wincing, you got back on your feet, still holding onto the child, and continued to run away, troopers now shooting at you. 

“Tech! I need a pickup, NOW!” You exclaimed into your communicator. 

“We’re reaching your location!” His voice came through, and without another second to waste, you heard the engines of the Havoc Marauder. The ramp was open and both Hunter and Wrecker were there. 

Despite the searing pain, your adrenaline forced you to pick up the pace. Blaster shots were flying past you, and if you move any slower, you were going to get hit again. But you weren’t scared of being hit by the Elite Squad trooper again. No. You were afraid of a certain sniper. Deep down though, you had hope that he wasn’t going to pull the trigger on you. He had several chances to do so, but he didn’t. 

“Jump!” Hunter shouted as you reached the edge of the building. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you leaped from the edge, Omega’s arms reaching towards the Sergeant and larger clone. You collapsed into their arms, letting them pull you both inside as blasters were now hitting your ship. 

“She’s been shot!” Omega cried. Hunter and Wrecker saw your bleeding side, and with a nod from their leader, Wrecker picked you up as carefully as possible and carried you to your cot. “Echo, get over here now!” Hunter shouted before grabbing whatever medical items that they need.

Your armor was removed and Wrecker ripped the fabric of your blacks to expose your wound, allowing the boys to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain, legs kicking and your hand gripping the first thing that came into contact, which was Hunter’s hand. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Echo reassured as they pierced a needle into your wound before spraying it with bacta. Omega stood at the doorway, hands covering her mouth, silently crying as the boys managed to stop the bleeding. Despite being their combat medic, the Bad Batch knew a good amount of medical aid before you arrived, but learned more when you became part of their team. 

“I can’t believe Crosshair shot her!” Wrecker growled as Echo placed a bacta patch to help quicken the healing progress. 

“I don’t want to believe either. But he shot you, didn’t he?” Echo countered.

“He...he didn’t shot me,” you groaned, your hand squeezing Hunter’s. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, no more talking. You need your rest, Freckles,” the Sergeant said, using his free hand to gently wipe off any sweat forming on your forehead. 

You ignored Hunter’s order and took in a deep breath before continuing. “It was a...trooper. Crosshair said...only to stun me and Omega...” You then looked back at Hunter, body feeling weak and vision getting blurry. “He’s still in there...fighting to come back....we can’t lose hope.” You managed to say that last bit before darkness consumed you. You slumped against the pillow, a familiar scent comforting you as you slept. 

The group watched you sleep, ensuring that you were okay before relaxing. Hunter slowly slipping his hand from your grasp before covering you with a blanket, Crosshair’s scent continued to engulf you. 

“We will bring him home. I promise.”

[javier-djarin]

Son of the Medjai: Chapter 3

Osiris’s Curse: Book 1

The Mummy AU

Ship: Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,022 Words

Warnings: Language, Angst, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: The river boat is attacked, forcing them to leave behind all their supplies. Pero navigates uncharted waters with Aria that seem more difficult to manage than anything he's ever faced.

A/N: This might be my favorite part so far. I am having so much fun writing this fic! I really hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am. Shout out to @rebelscumlena for being my beta! This story would not be what it is without you! Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist and what you think of the fic! Any Spanish Translations will always be found at the bottom of every chapter.

Slowly, Pero drew his revolver and crept through the main cabin door. Someone was on this ship that wasn't supposed to be, and they were headed in the same direction as Aria. The footprints led him down the main corridor towards their cabins. His heart was racing with each careful step, creeping down the hallway to surprise their unwanted guest. He reached the end of the hallway, where the footprints stopped just outside of her door. He contemplated barging in versus knocking. At first he pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement, but instead he heard her mumbling. He decided not to take any chances and barge into the room. Grabbing the doorknob, he used his shoulder to force open the door, startling Aria. She gasped and dropped her brush on the floor, desperately attempting to grab her house robe that was hanging on the hook next to her. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever heard of knocking, Mr. Tovar?”

He frowned when he noticed she was alone in the room. “Who were you just talking to?”

Her eyes widened in horror and her face flushed. “I - were you eavesdropping?”

Pero moved to her closet, ripping the doors open. Empty. He glanced under her bed. Vacant. The curtains near the windows were sheer and showed no sign of disturbance anyway. “Mr. Tovar!” she shouted in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

The bathroom door swung shut, locking her in, as a Bedouin man in flowing black robes leapt from behind it and attacked Pero, knocking the revolver from his hand. He held his arms up to block the blows, but the man took a cheap shot to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Pero groaned and rolled to the left for his revolver. Aria had opened the bathroom door, shrieking at the sight. She walked up behind the Bedouin man and kicked him in the back. Pero was impressed as the man fell forward, bouncing off the coffee table in front of him. He aimed his gun at the man, and growled, “Why are you here?”

The man wiped the blood off his face and glared at them. “Why do you keep returning?”

The cabin door behind Aria opened as another Bedouin man reached in, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her out of the room. Pero swore and moved to go after her, but his first adversary leapt forward, grabbed his ankle and pulled him to the ground. Pero fought against his assailant and kicked free, breaking the man’s nose and knocking him unconscious in the process.

He scrambled across the hallway to his cabin and grabbed his loaded arsenal from inside the door. Tossing it across his back, he sprinted after Aria. When he emerged on deck, he noticed the chaos that had consumed everything. A fire had started in the stables as guests and crew members alike abandoned the ship. The Americans were set up comfortably behind a makeshift bunker they’d made out of their poker table and chairs as they whooped and hollered, shooting at the men attacking. “Pinche gringos,” he muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. Pero searched for Aria, but couldn’t find her. Murphy and Nabil were cowering in the corner near the Americans defenseless. When Murphy caught his eye, he pointed in the direction of the stern. He wasn’t surprised at her brother’s cowardice, considering she had more of a backbone than he did when it came to confrontation. Following Murphy’s directions, Pero sprinted, knocking several attackers into the water on his way to the back of the boat. He heard her screaming and crying for help as the man cornered her against the railing.

“Where’s the key?” her kidnapper asked in a rough voice with a knife at her throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she cried, “What key?”

“The key!” he growled.

She had tears in her eyes. “Please, let me go!”

Pero held his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet, but the man noticed her gaze flash behind him and spun around, holding her in front of him like a human shield. Pero rolled his eyes and aimed his revolver at the man. “Let her go,” he snapped.

The man sneered and pressed the knife a little harder against her neck, allowing a small drop of blood trickle down her throat. “Careful,” he said, “you wouldn’t want me to slit her pretty neck.”

“Do, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Pero’s grip on his gun tightened as he carefully took aim. Aria didn’t struggle against the man holding her out of fear that his blade would do more damage than it already had.

The man twisted the blade just a little and more blood appeared in a small stream down her neck. Aria’s eyes widened in terror as she pleaded silently to Pero for help. He squeezed the trigger. The gun’s hammer struck the firing pin as the sound echoed across the Nile. She felt the bullet whiz past her ear, striking the man behind her. His grip on her loosened as he fell limply to the ground. It wasn’t until Pero rushed forward to hold her in his arms did she realize what had happened. Panic consumed her as he wiped the blood off her face. She leaned into him, shielding her eyes from the body as he led her away from the scene. They sought shelter for a brief moment under the awning as he inspected the small cut under her chin. It was there, but it wasn’t life threatening. She was gazing into his eyes as he lightly ran his thumb over it, causing bumps to rise on her smooth skin. He could feel himself leaning into her, captivated by her so close to him. Suddenly, an explosion went off, startling them apart. He checked his revolver again, before pressing himself against the wall. Using his free hand, he forced Aria to do the same next to him. “Stay low and behind me,” he said, handing her his arsenal bag.

She grabbed his hand in hers. “Pero,” she whispered, “what if-”

“They won’t. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He replied, squeezing her hand before leading them through the battle.

He spun to the right and shot at several attackers climbing out of the second story windows to escape the flames. Aria clung to him, ducking whenever she heard shots fired. They were making their way to Murphy and Nabil when another Bedouin man attacked Pero with a knife drawn. Pero pushed Aria out of the way, forcing her into Murphy's custody. His assailant slashed him across his forearm as he blocked him from slitting his throat. He hissed at the piercing pain that was shooting up his arm now. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it, forcing it behind his back. He kicked the man away from him as hard as he could before unloading the remaining ammunition in his revolver into him. The fire had grown, now consuming most of the main level cabins as it climbed up the rest of the ship. He strode to Aria with an annoyed grimace on his face. “Tell me you know how to swim,” he sighed.

“What? Well, of course I can, if the situation calls for it,” she said, placing her hands on her hips to make his statement seem even more ridiculous.

Pero grinned and scooped her up in his arms, causing her to drop his bag. “Trust me,” he added, tossing her over the side, “it calls for it.”

She shrieked as she hit the water, the coldness seeping into her robe and nightgown. Pero watched for a split second to see if she came up, laughing when he saw her furiously kicking and gasping for air as she swam away from the boat cursing him. “Bastard!” he heard her swear, “I never in my life met a man so uncouth, uncivilized! Who does he think he is, tossing me overboard like some cheap rag doll?”

He tossed his arsenal over his shoulder and jumped in after her, followed by Murphy and Nabil. The shore was not a far swim for them, and Pero caught up to Aria in no time. She was huffing and puffing, half tempted to abandon her robe the more she struggled. Soon, their feet hit the river bottom. They stood and Aria immediately adjusted her robe to cover herself. Pero looked down at her with a small grin and shook his head as he situated the pack on his shoulder. “We’ve lost everything,” she cried, “all our food, supplies. My clothes!”

“At least you saved that robe,” he chuckled, “I would hate to have you out here in nothing but that dainty nightdress.”

“Some of us have to maintain a sense of propriety,” she argued, “just because I’ve only got this nightgown left doesn’t mean I’m going to choose to run as naked as a bairn out here in the desert.”

Pero laughed again at the thought and then patted the satchel he carried. “We have enough money from Will to get what we need at the nearest village. You don’t need to worry about running around naked just yet. Though,” he said, helping her out of the river and glancing over her body, “no one is stopping you.”

She huffed, pulled her robe closer to her, and joined a soaked Murphy on the side of the river. “Ah yes,” he whispered to his sister, “absolutely nothing to like there at all.”

She glared and turned to him, cuffing him on the shoulder. Nabil laughed while Murphy feigned an injury and meekly followed behind a fuming Aria. “I think you dislocated it this time, old mum,” he complained.

Aria growled and shook her head. “I’ll rip it out of its socket the next time, if you keep it up.”

Murphy glanced at Nabil and chuckled. “She threatens to do that at least once a week.”

Pero lingered behind them for a moment and glared back at the ship. He watched as the rest of the passengers crossed to the other side of the river, and that’s when he saw Beckett join the Americans. He grinned to himself. Every soul that survived the raid crossed to the East side of the Nile - passengers, crew members, camels, and their horses. Beckett had everything; except he was on the wrong side of the river. He watched as his rival figured out the same thing before their eyes met. Pero gave him a smug smile and waved at him before turning back to join the rest of his party. They would have at least a few hours or so on the Americans if they kept moving to find the closest Bedouin tribe to help them with supplies.

Murphy and Pero had gathered what they could to build them a fire that night, allowing everyone to dry off and rest. As she did her best to stay warm against the cool desert wind, Aria took notice of Pero wrapping his arm with a makeshift bandage. She made an attempt to move towards him and help properly dress it, but stopped as he caught her eye. Anticipating what she was going to do, he instead shook his head and quickly covered the bandaged wound with his sleeve. They would worry about it when they reached civilization.

When he felt that they had rested enough, Pero pushed the group forward. He wanted them to locate the nearest market before Beckett and his crew. Aria was following right behind him with Murphy and Nabil muttering complaints between them. She sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother and ran to walk next to their guide. Before long the outline of a market was on the horizon, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She was starving and her feet were sore. Holding her robe close to her, she glanced up at Pero from the corner of her eye. She’d caught him gazing at her before he straightened and his eyes darted forward. “Who were those men?” she asked.

He sighed and adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “Members of some tribe or group that protects Aten,” he muttered, “or at least I think that’s their job. I’ve run into them the last two times. They’re Bedouin, I believe.”

“They attacked us in Cairo,” she admitted, “when Murphy first showed me the map he’d stolen from you.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Did they get the map?”

She nodded. “This time they were asking about a key.”

Frowning, Pero looked out across the sands. Murphy hadn’t stolen a key from him, unless there was something more to that box than he initially thought.

“Will they be back?”

Pero stopped and looked at her. He could see the fear in her eyes. She was not prepared for this, and he took part of the blame. He should have warned her better about what they were facing. On top of whatever was underneath the sand there, the land was littered with the blood of those the Bedouin deemed as trespassers. “Yes,” he sighed, “they will. But they know me, and they know not to fuck with my group. Honestly, I'm more worried about Beckett than I am the raiders.”

“James?” She asked with a smile. “But I quite enjoyed his company.”

Rolling his eyes, Pero pushed on. He couldn’t understand why her interest in Beckett bothered him so. Regardless of the reason he was choosing to avoid, he didn’t want that man anywhere near him or his party. He knew too much about how he operated, and if there was one thing Pero despised most it was being vulnerable. “Aria,” he huffed as they continued their trek, “be careful with James. He’s a treasure hunter that only takes interest in something or someone if it’s worth anything to him. The second a better price comes along, he will sell you out.”

“Isn’t that how you see…” she paused and glanced at him, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “me?”

Pero stiffened. The short answer was yes, but the more time he spent with her - the more he sought opportunities to irritate her - that answer became more complex. It’d been a while since he’d felt any emotion outside the realm of mild annoyance. Taking a deep breath, he decided the best answer to give her was a professional, emotionless answer. “I’m true to my word and loyal enough that I won’t sell you out.”

He saw her deflate a little and turn her gaze away from him. “Oh,” she replied, “right. Of course.”

Her tone was different. Disappointed. He knew immediately that his answer was not the one she wanted. “What I meant was-”

“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Tovar,” she interrupted.

She moved to join Murphy, who was several paces behind them, when he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Aria.”

She gazed down at his grasp before looking up at him. “So long as my brother and I make it back home in one piece,” she affirmed, “you will still receive the payment you were promised.”

He dropped her hand and watched her help Murphy off the ground. He’d clearly stumbled in the sand, and now she was helping him dust off. Pero’s chest tightened the longer he gazed at her. He wasn’t used to being in the presence of a woman who’d stirred something in him. She challenged him in a way that he wasn’t sure agitated or thrilled him. She was fiery and way too stubborn for her own good; he liked it. It was fun and she kept him on his toes. He found himself smiling when a large shoulder knocked into him. “Careful there, Tovar,” Nabil said, “the desert is an unforgiving place for those unprepared.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes at the cheesy piece of advice. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Tell that to the stupid look you have on your face.” Nabil laughed and began singing another popular Egyptian song that was loud and wildly off key.

By early morning when they reached the small market, Aria had said very little to Pero since their talk about Beckett. When it came time to find supplies, he decided to task her with finding food and bedrolls. He even tried to joke with her about finding clothes for her to wear, but he was met with a cold stare and a feigned smile. He was left to watch Aria’s back as she walked away, ignoring his attempt to call after her. Murphy came up and slapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Not that I want to get involved in this,” he laughed, “but, you really fucked it up back there, mate.”

Pero glared at him. “You heard?”

“We’re four people roaming an empty desert with nothing else around. Of course I heard you.” He watched as Pero internally groaned, staring in the direction Aria disappeared.

“I didn’t mean to offend her,” he added, not really aware that he’d said that out loud.

Murphy and Nabil both laughed, pulling him towards a man selling camels and horses. “Are you having a laugh?” Murphy asked. “You’ve been trying to get her goat since the two of you met.”

He forced the two men to walk in front of him. “Murphy,” he spat, desperate to change the topic, “make yourself useful and secure our transportation.”

Murphy approached the merchant, shaking his head at Pero. He started bargaining with a man for four horses, but the man wanted to sell him all five in the herd. They started arguing, but Pero wasn’t paying any attention. He was staying alert, waiting for Aria to reappear in the market. She’d been gone for a while - too long for his liking. He started in the direction she went, asking if anyone had seen her. Finally, a woman nodded and pointed in the direction of a large tent just down the way from where he was. “Aria!” he called.

He heard some women murmur and giggle from inside the tent. “Aria!”

The tent door ruffled before a short, middle-aged woman flung it open and walked out, leading Aria in her own deep blue dress with a sheer veil covering her in typical Bedouin fashion and a thin golden belt that kept the layers wrapped together. Her hair had been brushed and twisted into a loose braid beneath the sheer fabric. In a word, she was bewitching. She glanced up at him with a smile, completely different from when they first arrived. He returned her smile when she stopped in front of him. “Were you worried I ran off with Mr. Beckett?” she softly asked.

He felt his face flush a little, but he managed to hide the emotions bubbling at the surface. “We’re ready to go,” he replied. Suddenly his mouth had gone dry, and he found himself struggling to take a deep breath.

She grinned and watched him shift nervously in front of her, his eyes suddenly averting from hers. Aria noticed he anxiously tugged at the sleeve over his makeshift bandage that had turned red. Frowning, she reached out to grab his hand. “You’ve bled through your bandage ,” she said, gently lifting his sleeve up.

“It’s nothing to be concerned over,” he replied, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was firm.

She slowly peeled back the dressing and saw a long gash down his forearm. Not having seen much of it from when he initially wrapped it himself, she started to feel guilty knowing he had sustained such an injury from protecting her. It wasn’t deep, luckily. “Let me help,” she suggested, “At least to clean and redress it properly.”

“Librarian, herbalist, and now doctor. Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked with a chuckle, following her back into the tent she’d just exited.

Aria smiled at him again before turning to one of the women and asking for medical supplies. “When you grow up with Murphy as your brother, you tend to acquire a unique set of skills.” Once the supplies were brought to her, she immediately began cleaning it. Pero winced, and she smiled almost bashfully, taking more care as she continued on with her work. He found himself enjoying her smile more than anything and made it his personal mission to find ways to make it appear more often. “For a man as tough as you, this hurts?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m not immune to pain, Aria,” he grumbled, “Mortal weapons can still kill me.” This drew a laugh out of her; it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he’d do anything to hear it again.

“Well, fortunately for us,” she added, “this is too far from your heart to kill you.” Aria went to place the bandage around his arm when she noticed the peculiar tattoo she’d seen at the prison. It was the Eye of Horus in the center of a pyramid with a circle that she assumed was the sun protruding from behind it. Pero noticed her gaze and froze as she traced it. “I’ve seen this symbol before.”

He didn’t move away from her, as he typically did when people saw his strange tattoo. He let her examine it, gliding her fingers across it. In a weird way, he enjoyed it. This was a new sensation to him, one that he didn’t want to end. He could feel knots in his stomach churn as his chest tightened, squeezing every last bit of air out of his lungs. “I’ve had this for as long as I can remember,” he softly replied, “I think I got it when I was still in the orphanage in Cairo.”

She looked up at him, sorrow in her gaze. “The orphanage?”

He nodded. “I ran away from one in Barcelona when I was twelve. I stowed away on a ship and ended up here where they tossed me right back into another one in Cairo. I left there when I was fifteen, and then spent the better part of my life job hopping until the War started.”

She glanced down at his tattoo again, lightly rubbing her thumb over it. “It’s a sign of protection,” she continued, “this is the -”

“Eye of Horus,” he said, “The Bedouin have the same tattoo.” Aria froze, staring at him with a mild panic in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not working for them. But their leader, Shakir Fahmy, once told me that it was the sign of the Medjai. He tried convincing me that it was my destiny to protect Aten from outsiders; that it is my duty to ensure the safety of the secrets that lie beneath the sand, instead of selling expeditions to the highest bidder.”

“If they have this tattoo, they’re not just any Bedouin tribe,” she replied, “those men after us are sa-en Medjai, Sons of the Medjai. I heard stories that they survived long after the Egyptian Empire fell, but never had I seen evidence of this being true.” She glanced down at his arm again before wrapping the bandage tight around it. “Mr. Tovar -”

“You can call me Pero,” he softly stated, holding her hand once she finished wrapping his injury.

Aria smiled at him again, leaning closer to him. “Pero,” she paused, letting the sweet sensation of his name felt rolling off her tongue sink in, “this must mean you are a Son of the Medjai.”

He chuckled. “What does that mean?”

He watched her light up, suddenly excited to share her knowledge with him. She talked fast and with such passion, he was pulled into this world she’d created and brought to life in front of him. “The Sons of the Medjai, according to records found in the Valley of Kings, were the elite of the Medjai. Not much is known of the Lost Dynasty, but it is said they were founded then. There have been references to them all over Ancient Egypt, and one thing has remained constant: they never leave the city of Thebes. They served no Pharoah, only Osiris himself. Their symbol was this,” she said, pointing to his tattoo, “a gift from their god to protect them while they served. Some records say they were warriors for Osiris against the armies of Set. Many believed that the Sons were sent by Osiris himself, born to the people instead of families.”

“Born to the people?”

She nodded feverently. “Yes. It means they had no family, but instead were raised by their village until they were old enough to take on their sacred duties.”

He coyly smiled at her. “So, what you’re saying is,” he softly said, moving closer to her, “I am a gift from the gods?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Pero,” she smirked. They were close enough that she could feel his lips lightly brushing against hers, when suddenly there was a commotion outside that forced them to move apart. He watched as her eyes averted from his and a deep burn spread across her face. He grinned and moved past her to see what the ruckus was. Murphy, of course, had dragged their transports through this part of the market, causing several of the merchants to yell at him, cursing him for knocking over a few stands. Pero growled, silently cursing her brother himself for ruining the moment. He stormed out of the tent, Aria following closely behind him, and grabbed the reins from Murphy, who was giving both of them a knowing smirk.

“Did I interrupt something?” Murphy asked, “The looks on your faces say it all.”

Glaring at the man, he turned the horses away from the market and grumbled loud enough for him to hear, “Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana.”

Murphy walked up next to Aria and bumped her shoulder with his. “Do I need to have a chat with him? You know, man-to-man?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at her brother. “You really are an idiot, Murph. I was dressing his wound from that ghastly man on the boat.”

He snickered and covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. Nabil was busying himself at a fruit stand, and Pero was now on the opposite side of the small village, waiting. Aria turned to Murphy and crossed her arms, in clear annoyance. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, “I just remember you said there was nothing to like there at all.”

Aria sighed. “We have to work together. I might as well make the best of this situation.”

She stormed off to join Pero. She watched him with a small smile while he calmed one of the horses that was spooked by a couple of children who ran by them. Her gaze caught his, and he returned his smile. All at once, he watched as his surroundings turned from the quiet, desert market to a brightly lit, gold-encrusted hallway. There were elaborate hieroglyphics and paintings on the walls with high arches on the left, open to the expanding city below. The sunset painted the sky with purples and oranges as a cool breeze drifted in from the Nile. In front of him was a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed in silky, white robes with an intricate headpiece that resembled a much smaller version of Isis’s headdress. She looked like a queen. As she walked toward him, he realized the strong resemblance she had with Aria. She was Aria but she wasn’t at the same time. She smiled when she reached him, wrapping her arm around his. He saw her mouth move, but he heard nothing come out. No sound, no words. He tried to listen, but all he heard was a muffled voice in the distance yell “Nefertari!” The woman turned to look in the direction of the voice. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before disappearing, taking the rest of this hallucination with her.

Pero reached up to touch his cheek. He felt her lips against his skin. Clearly still lost in his fantasy, he couldn’t hear Aria running forward calling his name until she was in front of him. The worry was written all over her face as she held his face in her hands to force him to look at her. His eyes were still glossy as they looked through her instead of at her. “Pero!” she cried, “What is it?”

He frowned, absorbing what happened. He was back in the small market, Aria was no longer dressed like the Egyptian royalty he’d just held in his arms. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he let out a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I-I-,” he was struggling.

“Pero,” she said, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, holding his head up.

“I think that blade was laced with something,” he said, “or I need water.”

Much to Aria’s horror, the color didn’t return to his now pale face. She helped him sit down on the low wall he was standing near. She waved for Murphy to grab water. “What’s wrong?”

He grabbed her wrists, gently running his thumbs up and down the insides of them to calm her. “I saw -” he paused. No, it’s best to keep what I saw to myself.

“What?”

“I’m not sure what. I think the desert heat is just getting to me.”

She was not convinced, but decided not to push it.

“The Pharoah returns and now he will die. Ausar and his queen will meet their fates again.”

The ghostly voice Aria had heard not three days ago had returned. She slowly glanced around for the source, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But when she looked back at Pero, she could see on his face that he had heard it too. The two remained holding each other’s gaze, each worried for what they would face the further into the desert they went.

Translations

Pinche gringos - Fucking gringos (white people)

Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana. - I would shoot you right now if I didn't have high respect for your sister.

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[jacks-wylan]

It started to rain a day later.

Geralt's already bad mood started to increase even more, as he stomped down that trice damned mountain. His fingers trembled, and he knew very well that it was not because of the now terribly colder wind blowing, but he couldn't help but notice that the temperature was lower than the day before – lower than that same morning.

He gritted his teeth, eyes roaming up to the gray sky. Winter was coming, and that felt like the only blessing that was falling upon him lately, because winters meant home and late nights with his brothers and the closest thing he could ever have as a break, to have some time off everything .

He felt a pang of worry when, as the day passed, the weather worsened. Not for Yennefer, no, because she could take care of herself, and just portal out of there – but that idiot that went down the mountain path alone, without waiting for him at the clearing as he should have done no matter how much he was offended... the thought of him in a dangerous territory, with an upcoming storm no less, is worrisome. He tried to not think of Jaskier, because the he was still angered – and the guilt was already creeping up his spine, gnawing at his insides – and deep down he was hoping that he, indeed, joined the dwarves in the end, and he was not at all alone – as he was, as it should have been from the start.

Caingorn and the stables where Roach was waiting for him is half a way down, when he had to find shelter for the night. He found an empty cave, built a fire, and meditated. He couldn't fall asleep. Not that he tried, but he knew that slumber would not come easily on him this time. He would not fall asleep peacefully, safe , as he did with Yennefer ever again.

The rain became a downpour by the time he reached the inn.

He was surprised the same when, once entered inside the inn, knowing that he could not go anywhere with that kind of weather – he could not permit that something bad would happen to Roach – he found every single still alive member of the dragon hunt there.

Even Borch. Even Jaskier. Even Yennefer .

She did not deign him of a glance, and Geralt did expect as much. Jaskier, instead, looked at him with a relieved expression, but... but still, he didn't come to him, didn't run towards him and started to ramble as always. He noticed Jaskier's belonging at his feet, belongings that – apart from his lute – should have been inside Roach's saddlebags, with Geralt's things.

He told himself thank fuck .

He did not feel so thankful, though.

The common room was crowded, but Geralt found a table in a corner regardless. He settled there, ordered food and ale, and ignored the conversations around him. Someone was saying that if the storm did not placate, it would be impossible to walk the roads. He heard Yennefer snort and say that if things would not get better, she would just leave them all there and portal away. Jaskier muttered a mean: “Of course you will, but why are you still here?”

It was Borch that reached out to him. He sat next to him, and after he gulped a mouthful of ale, Geralt just asked: “Your child?”

“Safer than us here.” was his response, “The skies are enraged.”

“Shouldn't you be with them?”

“Not now, no.” Borch shook his head, “But I will be, if the rain ever stops.”

Geralt wasn't in the mood to understand Borch's cryptic words, so he just kept eating and drinking. Then he went out, saw Roach, gave her enough clean water and fresh hay, made sure that there still was pellet for her to sleep on. She seemed content, but she also seemed like she was waiting for something – for someone – that wasn't there with them, sniffing at Geralt's hands but not finding the treats he never gave her.

Geralt patted her muzzle and turned back in. The rain still didn't show any sign of stopping, falling almost cruelly on the ground. Roads became torrents, trees bent under the force of wind.

The skies are enraged.

None of the patrons could go back to their lives, when the night came. So the innkeepers decided that until the storm ended, the rooms were available for all of them – Geralt did not talk to Jaskier, as they walked up the stairs to their shared room, because he was expecting the bard to break the silence, but at first he didn't.

The awkwardness fell upon them until they had to look into each other's eyes by the only bed in the room, when Jaskier finally, finally talked. “Left or right?”

Geralt sighed, leaning his swords against the wall. “Jaskier,” he said his name, but abruptly stopped, because he didn't really know what to say.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. This is a very shitty situation, isn't it? We are all caged here for who knows when, and funnily right after–” Jaskier's voice faltered, until it stopped. “Can you endure me for a little more? I won't get in the way. You can talk with the witch, sort out all your problems, and live happily ever after. If there might be a silver lining here, it has to be this.”

Silence fell on them again. Geralt raised the blankets and got under them: he was pretty sure that not even that night sleep would come to him, but he could at least try. The road to Kaer Morhen was long and tortuous, he needed to be well rested before taking that way.

There was an acrid, bitter scent lingering in the air. Geralt ignored it.

“You really have nothing to say to me?”

Lying on the bed, Geralt looked at him with a sigh, “Just sleep, Jaskier.”

The room got illuminated by a thunder, fallen not too far from the inn. Jaskier jolted, head shot back towards the window with a panicking jump. Geralt could not see his eyes, but he imagined them being wide open, like a deer caught by a lightning. It might not even be too far from reality.

“If only I could.” Jaskier murmured, lying too on the bed but giving him his back. That position made Geralt feel lonely, but it was a sentiment so absurd that he just shrugged it off and closed his eyes.

Outside, the storm did not end, but it got calmer when he got up the next morning.

It was still a downpour, and it still made the roads impassable, but Geralt could see, with some difficulty, a timid ray of sun peaking through the thick, gray clouds covering the sky. He did indeed sleep, for a bit, he felt as refreshed as he could ever be.

Glancing at Jaskier, Geralt saw him still sleeping, his face relaxed, messy hair covering his closed lids. There was a slightly frown between his eyebrows, but so soft that it was difficult even for him to notice under the brown locks of his fringe.

Geralt swiped them off with the lightest touch he could gather so not to wake him up, then turned around and left the room.

The common room was almost empty, if not for Borch, the two Zerrikanians, and the innkeepers. “Most of the patrons went back to their home the second the storm calmed. After all, their houses aren't so far away.” one of the innkeepers was muttering, “Didn't even pay for the rooms, those whoresons.”

Not even an hour later, the storm increased again, with more force, with more violence it hit against the walls and doors. The sky darkened, it was an ominous scene.

“This looks like a catastrophe.” the other innkeeper said, “If it keeps like this, the land will become a giant swamp, and nothing will grow up again. If it keeps like this, our rations will end, and we will all die.”

“Always the same, you shithead. Stop being so gloomy, it's just the second day!”

“Myths spoke of a similar catastrophe cast by an angered God. It lasted forty days and forty nights, to drown the evil on Earth.” Borch said, calmly. “Just myths, they were. Evil is still on Earth, after all.”

The skies are enraged.

Moments later, Yennefer walked down the stairs, followed by Jaskier. They were talking in hushed tones, so low that Geralt couldn't understand most of the spoken sentences, but for the look of it Jaskier did not seem happy with their argument. Yennefer, though, she looked smug, a cutting grin baring white teeth.

Geralt felt something , something ugly and slimy kneading his mouth at their camaraderie. He felt left apart, abandoned, ignored. It was a feeling he should be used to – it was a feeling he always felt with Yennefer, it was a feeling he always made Jaskier feel – but somehow he felt the injustice of it burning on his cheeks, like embarrassment, if more humiliating.

He hated it, this weakness.

“I'm sorry, Yen.” he then said, because what else he has to do? Beg forgiveness, drop into his knees in front of her and say that what he did was wrong, but he just did it to save her. Not to see her die right after saving Jaskier's life, not to see her die after she mended his mistake which would have killed Jaskier, drowning him in his own blood that Geralt helped spill. “I had no right to do what I did, but I don't... I can't regret it.”

“Well, well.” Yennefer snorted. She sat gracefully on a chair, and looked up at him with an elegant black eyebrow arched. “You are apologizing. For someone else it might be enough, but not for me, Witcher.”

Geralt gritted his teeth. “Would anything be even enough?”

“I am kind of disillusioned, to be honest, now that I know the truth. Things I could not comprehend before are now clear, and bitter. I do not know what love is supposed to be, of course,” she pursued her red lips, then looked around until her violet eyes stopped on Jaskier – Jaskier that was standing still in front of a window, watching the hell outside. His back was tense, his hands were trembling so slightly. He was close enough to be hearing everything Yennefer and he were talking about. Strangely, Geralt felt guilty. “But I know that ours wasn't love yet. Not a love that matters.”

“Could be, one day.”

“Sure.” Yennefer sneered, “But am I willing to wait? With the risk that once we break the Djinn's spell, all will be lost? I am not an hopeless puppy like your bard,” at that, Jaskier flinched, “I will not wiggle my tail at every scrap of attention you'd deign to give, to be then discarded when you will get enough of it.”

“Like you've done all this time with me?” Geralt growled.

“Like you've done all this time with the bard.” Yennefer replied, unapologetic.

They stared at each other for long moments, Geralt trying so hard not to turn and look at Jaskier again. He didn't want to acknowledge that those words were true and how much effects they had on him. “Why do you care? You can't even stand Jaskier, damn it!”

A thunder fell just outside the window Jaskier was leaning on. He shouted, scrambling away from the shaking – cracking – glass, and it was not long before another thunder fell, and the window shuttered.

Geralt fumbled up from his table, but Jaskier didn't get hurt, just soaked in the rain gusted in as he fell on the floor in fear of it. He whimpered, and brought a hand against his chest. In the chaos surrounding them, Geralt could clearly hear his heart beating like a war drum, louder than any noise, more deafening than the storm outside.

Yennefer went and, with a flick of her fingers, the window returned whole again.

“Fucking hell.” Jaskier creaked, “What the fuck is happening?”

Geralt looked out, and the gray of the storm became black, filled with blue and white, blinding stripes that made the land shake. Trembling like Jaskier's fingers tightened around a chunk of his own red doublet.

The skies are enraged.

And they were bringing down on Earth all of their anger.

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read the rest on ao3!

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 3

A/N: Finally we get to see Azula’s true nature! Also, the first time we get to see Zuko!! To be clear, Azula is in this fic a lot, but this is far from a redemption fic. 

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

Zuko caught Y/N’s eyes like he wanted to ask her a million questions. But she was too embarrassed about everything to hold his gaze. She looked away hoping she didn’t look too guilty or shameful. She joined Azula in staring out the window. The cherry blossom trees were in bloom. They covered every square inch of sky as she looked out. It filled the room with a sweet scent that Y/N knew was going to permeate their clothes when they left. If she let her eyes go unfocused it looked like there was a raging fire in front of her. 

Y/N found herself outside in the palace gardens. She was running from something, but it wasn’t scary. She was laughing and she heard other girls laughing around her. She began to climb a tree, stifling her giggles the entire time. For some reason, she had to be quiet.

“You’re going to get in trouble for being up there,” Someone said from below. 

Y/N looked down between the branches to see a boy her age. He was wearing a high ponytail held with a small fire pin. 

“Why?” she asked. She jumped down to the lowest branch and sat there hanging her legs over the side. She didn’t want to get down just yet. 

He arched one eyebrow. “Just ‘cause. If the palace gardener sees you climbing the trees, he’ll yell at you.”

“Well I’ll just tell him that my new friend is Princess Azula and that’ll shut him up.” Y/N laughed again and made a start to go back up the tree.

“Well, I’m her older brother Prince Zuko and I’m telling you, you’re gonna get in trouble.” He looked like he wanted to emphasize his sentence by sticking his tongue out at her. 

“Why aren’t you playing hide-and-explode with us?” Y/N asked. She jumped down and landed lightly in front of Zuko. They were the same height, which made her feel oddly proud. 

“I don’t like playing games with Azula,” Zuko said. “I’m ten–”

“–well I’m nine and a half and I can still have fun,” Y/N interrupted. 

“You’re almost my age and you’re friends with Azula? What happened? Did you get held back?” Zuko taunted.

“No!” Y/N made a face. Suddenly she felt very self conscious. She didn’t know what ‘held back’ meant but it didn’t sound good, not when he was laughing at her. “This is the first time I’ve ever gone to real school. I just got put in her grade.” 

Suddenly a fireball landed at Y/N’s feet; sparks flew up and singed her pants and burnt her legs. She squealed, a mix between surprise and pain. 

“Azula!” Zuko snarled. He half stepped in front of Y/N, all hints of the earlier teasing gone. Zuko produced a similar fireball and threw it at Azula’s feet but she kicked it away, making it land in a nearby bush. 

“You’re it, Y/N,” Azula ordered. 

“It’s not fair, Azula. She’s not a bender,” Zuko argued. 

“Neither are Mai and Ty Lee. And they don’t whine like babies.” The last part she directed at Y/N with a sneer. 

“I’m not whining!” Y/N protested. She pushed Zuko out of the way and covered her eyes, beginning to count to twenty. She peeked at Zuko at fifteen. All the girls had already scattered but he just stood there watching her. “I’m faster than Azula anyways. I can catch her.” 

She paused and looked at Zuko who stood there awkwardly. “Are you going to hide or what?” She asked. When she covered her eyes again she heard him run away, looking for a hiding place. She waited a beat before counting again, “–SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN..”

Y/N woke to darkness. But it was always dark below deck. The only light came from candles and lanterns hung in the hallways. Her own candle was only an inch high and fading fast from the accumulation of wax. She could feel the familiar rock of the ship lulling her back to sleep… Y/N sat up quickly. She could tell that it was morning, possibly very early but she couldn’t risk going back to sleep. She tucked the covers under her neck and over her shoulders to snuggle down to ask the important questions. Why was she dreaming of Zuko? 

The day they met was probably one of their most innocent and least notable moments. At least that’s what she thought. Or it was possible her brain was trying to make her feel guilty about what she and Azula were going to do today. That day wasn’t the last that Zuko had tried to protect her from his sister, it actually set the stage for years of him standing up to Azula in her place. Not that she needed it, she could hold her own plenty, but it felt nice to be protected. 

Sometimes she wondered if they had more time together, if they’d have become better friends than her and Azula. Even though he was a fire-bender too, he spent a lot of training with his dual swords. Time that was spent with her on the training grounds. They sparred daily until his banishment; spirits, Y/N was sure they’d even sparred the day of the war meeting that started everything. Now she was going to find him, and lie to him, knowing that what awaited him at home was not a crown but a prison cell. Y/N shook her head to clear it and slid out of the bed and into her clothes. No use in thinking of the past when her future was all that was necessary. Honor and glory and all. 

Y/N could hear Iroh and Zuko arguing a mile away. Azula and her had gotten there an hour before and broke inside the little cabin they were living in. They’d not so inconspicuously gone through all their stuff and upon not finding anything worth while, sat around just waiting. 

“We don’t need any more useless things. You forget we have to carry everything for ourselves now!” Zuko lamented as Iroh dumped a bag of seashells on the table by the door, that looked suspiciously like the same seashells next to Azula on their dining table. Neither one had looked up to see them inside. 

“Hello, brother,” Azula said. “Uncle.” Both of the men jumped. 

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked as he stepped his body in front of Iroh’s. He looked from Azula to where Y/N was sitting in the window sill behind Azula. Her stomach dropped. This was the first time she’d seen his scarred face. Pink and red scars circled his left eye and wrapped far back enough to cover his ear. His hair was no longer long, but shaved around his ponytail. He looked so much older even though it had only been three years. Y/N wasn’t sure what made him look so different, whether it was a scar that marred his face or the anger that seeped deep beneath his pores. 

“In my country we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” Azula picked up a seashell and inspected it. She glided across the room to stand in front of him. She was so much shorter than Zuko and Y/N but she carried so much power. “Have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“To what do we owe this honor?” Iroh spoke up, breaking up the fight between the siblings before it started. Y/N moved to stand behind Azula. 

“Hmm, must be a family trait. Both of you are so quick to get to the point.” Azula was still playing with the men like they were rabbit-mice. She snapped the shell she was holding in her hands. “I’ve come with a message from home. Father has changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumors of plans to overthrow him–treacherous plots.” Y/N looked to Zuko to gauge his reaction. His face had softened at hearing the news from his Father.

“Family are the only ones you can really trust,” Azula told him earnestly. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” Azula paused to look out the window. 

Zuko caught Y/N’s eyes like he wanted to ask her a million questions. But she was too embarrassed about everything to hold his gaze. She looked away hoping she didn’t look too guilty or shameful. She joined Azula in staring out the window. The cherry blossom trees were in bloom. They covered every square inch of sky as she looked out. It filled the room with a sweet scent that Y/N knew was going to permeate their clothes when they left. If she let her eyes go unfocused it looked like there was a raging fire in front of her. 

When no one said anything, Azula whipped her head back around to stare at her brother. “Did you hear me? You should be happy, excited, grateful. I just gave you great news.”

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment–”

“Don’t interrupt, Uncle!” Her voice changed from sickeningly sweet as she plied Zuko with the words he wanted to hear to savage as she screamed at Iroh. Azula had never learned to be patient, and she wanted them on the ship now. “I still haven’t heard my thank you,” She growled at Zuko. “I’m not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way. I could have sent Y/N for this.”

Y/N tensed at her words. She bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. How dare Azula think she was her messenger hawk?

“Father regrets? He wants me back?” Zuko muttered. Y/N felt like this was a conversation with himself that they were all intruding on. Y/N had to admit that the words that Azula used to trick them were sweet as honey, but also not very believable. 

Y/N touched the back of Azula’s arm. “I think that he needs time to take this in. It’s all very sudden for him.” She sent a smile in Zuko’s direction that he did not return. 

“I’ll send Y/N to call on you tomorrow.” Azula concluded and she and Y/N took their leave. 

“Why are you sending me tomorrow?” Y/N asked once they were out of range of the house. 

“Zuko trusts you more than he does me,” Azula admitted. “I figure even if he decided he doesn’t want to come, you’ll be able to sweet talk him down the hill to our little ship.”

“Zuko and I were–” 

“Oh shut up, Y/N. You two always had an eye for one another.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. “I–”

“Besides that’s the reason my Father wanted you to come anyways.” They had reached the wooden dock that the ramp to their ship rested on. 

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks. “What?” 

Azula cocked her head. “Well, I figured you’d caught on to that already the way you were making moony eyes at my brother up there.”

“I wasn’t–How was I supposed to know I was only brought here to flirt Zuko’s ass all the way back to the Fire Nation?!” 

“Just back to the ship. Once he gets here we’ll put him in a jail cell.”

“AZULA!”

“Look,” she snarled. “You’re good with a sword but what the hell is that going to do against a fire bender? It’s a fact that you being a non bender means you’re a liability in a fight.” Azula turned and marched up the ramp. That was the end of the discussion even if Y/N had more to say. 

She looked down at her toes at the blue-green water between the slats. She could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears. She blinked them away and followed Azula onto the ship. 

Y/N fisted her hands in her tunic and stalked to her room. Control your anger, control your anger she repeated over and over in her head. She wasn’t like Azula or Zuko, she couldn’t make something with the anger that grew and festered in her chest. She couldn’t throw a fireball at the nearest wall and hope that her anger dissipated like the sparks that fell to the floor. She shut her door and immediately balled up her fist and let it slam home against the wall. The thin metal crumpled easily under her hand. It stung, but that was good. Y/N let out a breath she thought she’d been holding since the dock. She collapsed onto her bed and pulled her knees to her chest. 

It wasn’t a secret that she was a non-bender. But it’s not like it didn’t hurt to be reminded that she wasn’t as worthy because she was one. 

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[imaginesbymk]

“Disciples.”

Dracula One Shot

Summary: Following the mysterious death of their brother Jonathan Harker, y/n travels to Transylvania to drive the stake into Dracula’s heart once and for all, ignoring how it’s easier said than done, and the monster himself has been expecting them for years.

Pairing: Count Dracula x Harker!sister!Reader

Tags: mentions of death, blood, violence, weapons + hallucinations

Author’s Note: imma be honest and say the first two eps of dracula (bcc/2020 netflix original) was good, however we do not speak of the the third episode because it was........ something else. in my opinion, at least. one shots are not open as this is a 700 follower milestone special! this was rushed because i do not know how to write gothic fantasy battles lol [milestone masterlist]

“JONATHAN Harker was my brother, and I will forever regret letting him ride off in the carriage that took him to the castle. His last words were, ‘Believe it or not, y/n, I’ll go. But prepare some bread when I return.’ If he were to. I was disoriented. Weeks after his fiancee Mina refused to come visit me because she mourned too much and she couldn’t bare to see how I was holding up. Mina is so frightened that I would share the same fate. I spent the long day of picking out locks for my doors and windows. I read more books and drank more tea to calm my nerves, but as I said, I was disoriented.

The date was marked as St. Valentine’s Day, the day I arranged a carriage to Transylvania... to come here, and drive a stake into your rotten heart.” I was wise enough to not eat the food prepared in front of me at the long dining table, not even a sip of the red wine he possibly tarnished with something to make me black out.

Instead, I watch him grin at me from across the table that served as a border. “Beautiful introduction, y/n.”

I smile. “Thank you, Count.”

His smile was still there, but fading like sunsets to dark night. “You have not touched your food,” he points out.

It’s not like he was touching his, either. I simply tell him, “Not hungry.” 

He looked down at his plate, then began using his giant cutting knife and fork to slice a piece of meat in his mouth. The flames engulfed in the small fireplace drew out as a guiding light that overpowered the dim torches and candles lit around every twenty or so meters of a room’s perimeter in his castle, and I could describe his look very easily. 

The way I was told about him from countless stories, true or made up, Dracula was old, frail and unkempt, despite dressing in an old fashion vest and suit. When my brother went to him for a business land purchase from England, he must of seen and could of described him the same way. He looked young, maybe not too young, possibly middle aged. His jet black hair was fixed, only a couple of wrinkles from the corner of his eyes when he smiled. Count Dracula knew how to keep himself attractive, and he didn’t even require a mirror.

“There are rules when you enter my abode, Miss Harker.” He plopped his pointing finger down on his lap, the leg he hooked over the other as his dark eyes never in the slightest turned a lighter iris from the lights used by fire. “One of them being you are to be well fed. It’s a compliment when my guests eat the meals I prepare for them.”

“You don’t prepare them. In fact, I doubt your personal staff prepared them, either.” My scowl must of made him grin at me even more. “Do they even exist?”

“Oh, I cannot lie to you about that.” And like that, that was his answer, even though it wasn’t the right one for my question. “That’s quite all right if you’re not feeling hungry, Miss Harker. I believe it’s getting late,” Dracula says as soon as lightning struck outside the gigantic windows. “I don’t think I can let you head back to England in this kind of weather.”

“You’re telling me that I should stay the night?”

He nodded. “You can stay here as long as you need to, Miss Harker.”

“I don’t plan on slumbering in your decaying castle, Count. You and I both know why I’m here, I was bold enough to announce it.”

Dracula got up from the table and began to walk over to my side, running his hands along the surface. “I have been waiting for this moment for years.”

“For someone to burn you to ash?” 

“For you.” He stops at my chair, not too close to reach me, but I felt more evil than I did as soon as I stepped foot inside. “I knew who you were when your brother made the decision of coming here. I knew who you were even though your brother mentioned you after I did, and he never once said your name.”

I shot out of my seat and stood in front of him, placing my hand on my holster. “So you’ve been expecting me?”

Dracula nods. “For... years. If you look in the mirror, you’ll see how red you’re turning. Either I’ve made you blush, or me just being one step ahead is making you even more enraged than the day you found out your brother mysteriously vanished.”

“You hate mirrors, Dracula.”

“Indeed.”

“And my brother didn’t mysteriously vanish. You killed him.” I began to walk away from him, approaching the rack of the stick that moves the firewood around. “And what else is there about you? You are so difficult, it’s hard to picture you as mysterious. Just.. difficult.”

I turn back around, and felt my heart sink to my gut. He was gone. The dining table stood as if it was never used, the lid that covered our courses swayed back and forth as if something zoomed past it to make it move. I was off my guard for a second and he took off on purpose. If he wasn’t the beast of the night I would of heard his shoes stomping against the ground when he was running from me. I would of been able to hear a gust of wind if he wore more loose garments. Oddly enough, he didn’t turn into a bat.

Now it was up to me to find him, alone.

I run out of the room and found myself lifting a torch off the wall, walking up the giant staircase made of stone. My question hung in the air, and he’ll never catch it. “Why are you expecting me?” I ask out loud, hoping he was somewhere, listening to me, or even watching me.

The only thing that came out as a response to my call was the storm outside, and the castle’s noises. It was indeed an old castle. No one lives in castles anymore as living homes evolved so much. Dracula slept in a coffin, and if I’m lucky, I can run out into the rain all the way home, and find myself sleeping on the streets.

I crept up slowly, feeling like I was being watched. I said louder, “Why are you expecting me, Count? You’re excited to finally meet your fate?”

His voice echoed from above. He stood on the ledge, almost as if he was preparing to jump twenty feet down to rough ground. “Because I knew you would come for me. Mr. Harker was your brother. Either the victim’s family mourns and fears and hates, you engaged in all three, and brought yourself here.”

Dracula smiled and hopped off the ledge, descending right on the tip of my head. I scream and dash to the upper levels.  

“I call them disciples, Miss Harker!” he suddenly appeared in front of me like witchcraft. “The people who come here, and I talk for humans who existed many centuries back come here. I learn about their childhoods, I learn about their loved ones, who they wish to cherish for the rest of their lives, how they taste...”

My hand reaches my holster...

“If you drive the stake into my heart here and now, you won’t be able to find the room I kept your brother’s corpse in.”

“You’re lying,” I sneer. “You used my brother’s face as a mask, Mina told me.”

“How is Mina doing?” he asks sweetly.

“Go back to hell-” and I jerk my hand forward, gripping the stake as I aimed bullseye.

“Y/N!” I shook my head. His voice. His hair. His smile. It felt like home. I was wrapped in warmth from the house we both grew up in, not the archaic castle.

My brother Jonathan, untouched and healthy, stood in the place I once thought Dracula was in, the tip of the wooden stake just poking the layer of his dress shirt.

“Jonathan...” I breathed out.

The world stopped... or was it me? Was it my senses? I didn’t eat or drink anything he could of manipulated, at least, he could manipulate me without using any kind of medication or potion. 

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t blink. It was a sense of sleep paralysis, but I wasn’t asleep. I blinked again, remembering the horror Mina described when the beast tore my brother’s face off of his like paper right in front of her.

I stared at the Devil himself dead in the eye, frozen stiff, helpless. Dracula lifted a hand and began tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It took you years to prepare yourself for me. It must of been exhausting, for me I take it as a decade of waiting and waiting for your arrival, and here you are, and I am having so much fun with you.”

Everything went dark. Then light. 

Light?

My frail body was in the mocking care of his arms now. Who knew how gentle he was being when he was carrying me. When he searched for a bride, he would not be carrying the poor species who would be unlucky enough to ever be his bride. But I put the pieces together as he lays me down on the spot where the sun can hit on the balcony, where he could watch me as he shielded through the shade. of the stone wall that formed the entryway.

I felt the stiffness of my neck, specifically a stinging sensation on my skin, maybe even deeper. I was played out like a fool. A fool who lost Dracula’s game. I was too easy.

"The sun will love you so much, they burn you with love.” Dracula said in a stern voice.

“Please...” The sun gleamed from a cloud and a ray hit the layers of what was left of me, and I felt the change. 

I closed my eyes.

“To rise and to shine, Miss Harker.”

[goddessofeternity]

Inari’s Den

Chapter 1: War of Clans

The battlefield was such a harsh and deadly place, and it was one that I found myself feeling less and less comfortable to be a part of. The war of clans had been raging forth for far too long, and I had no say in when it would be over. As the next clan head, I had a duty to continue this fight until we crushed the opposition.  Stopping the fighting and ending it all started with her.

  My chest rose and fell quickly, as sweat poured down my face. I clenched my fist as I faced the other kitsune standing just twenty feet away from me. Blood ran down my arm from where she had sliced me prior. I could have taken this moment to strike her, but it seemed we both needed the breather. Others would scoff at the next head struggling against a female, but most hadn’t fought her as much as I did. The ones who did fight her never came back, so that should have been clue enough to her skill. 

 I tore out of my thoughts as she started to stalk around me and I followed suit. The falling maple leaves around us made the setting more beautiful than intended. Crimson blood soaked the ground under our feet from our recent fight. I watched her move slowly around me, and glanced at her bleeding leg. She tried not to limp, but I knew she was in pain. Her five tails whipped behind her in an agitated manner, displaying her anger. She snarled out at me and her ears laid flat against her head, and her hand brushed against the second sword on her back. I held tight against my own sword as we continued our stalking. Two future clan leaders fighting each other was not the greatest approach for the future, but it raised the morale of soldiers. 

 It was odd for her to be so silent. Usually she would be shouting at me, but she relented to just snarling and growling at me. If this was another setting, I would have liked to go about this more peacefully. That would not be the case, especially with what my family did to hers. I often wondered when our perpetual dance of death would finally end. Who would die first? Me or her? Speaking her name out loud was even frowned upon in my territory.

 Izumi Yamaguchi.

 The next head of the Yamaguchi clan was a fierce fighter and the Yamaguchi name used to carry much weight, but now it would have to go down in flames. Such is the way of war I suppose. I released a breath as she rushed forward with a growl, her sword catching the morning sun, the gleam temporarily blinding me. I brought my own sword up as they clashed together. 

 “Annoying…” My ears perked up as her voice carried through the wind. Her eyebrow twitched as she concentrated on my movements. “Why won’t you just die already?”

 “I have too much to live and fight for Yamaguchi-san.”

 “So formal to your enemy...almost makes me feel bad about having to kill such a polite man…”

 She had enough of the small talk as her tails thrashed about and fire formed on the tips of them. Feeling my feet suddenly get hot, I jumped back as a column of fire erupted where I once stood. She suddenly burst through the column of flame and I blocked her blow, and she drew her other sword and swung at my face. I should have kept up the aggression but she beat me to it. Her attacks were quick but not as fast as usual, so I had no problem blocking her. It was a good thing I could use both of my hands to wield my blade. Her swordplay was elegant and refined, but held a fierceness that deserved to be admired. Her golden eyes glared at me with a hatred that would have made any man pause.

 I was no ordinary man though. 

 I retaliated with more aggression and knocked her blades back to stab into her abdomen, she coughed out blood but it didn’t slow her movements one bit. Her blades struck me with the same amount of force. We crumbled to the ground and she kicked my sword from my hand. I threw hers away and she moved away from me quickly. Holding her side, she wiped the blood from her lips. Snarling at me, she stumbled back as I stood back up ready for our next dance. Her ears shot up and mine did as well as I heard something approaching me from behind. Judging by the smell, it was my foot soldiers coming to assist me. I continued to stare her down and move forward. She was trying to back away but I would never hear the end of it from my father if I let her go. My wound burned and it kept me from moving any further towards her though. 

 “We will meet again Takeshi Igarashi! Your little toy soldiers will not keep you safe forever!” 

 I rushed forward as she held a small ball in her hand, but she threw it down before I had the chance to stop her. She disappeared in a cloud of smoke and I let out a frustrated breath. My men took up my flank and were all yelling frantically as some of them took chase. My ears were ringing from the sound of the bomb, laying them against my head, I walked away from the frenzy that was my men. If they wanted to give chase that was up to them. I growled low in my throat as I held my bleeding side. My father would be furious that she inflicted a wound on me. My mother would fret and try to storm out and cause a scene even while she was supposed to be on bed rest. My brother would laugh at my carelessness for being injured by the “lesser” sex. I could hear him now and that made the walk back home all the more worse.

~~~

 The burning landscape before me would remind anyone of hell. The smell of burning corpses was hard on my sensitive nose. A few people were trying to clean up the debris from the rice fields, and others were trying to herd fleeing livestock. Many of the people had burn wounds covering their bodies, but they pushed through the obvious pain. An elderly woman struggled to lift up a large jar of water, I shuffled over to assist her.

 “O-Oh Igarashi-sama! You don’t need to help me!” She tried to grab the jar but I held it from her reach.

 “I don’t mind helping you.” She shook her head as I walked her back to her home. My mind was getting fuzzy and I hoped that she didn’t poison her blade. After dropping off the jar, I tore a piece of my shirt off and tied it across my injury. I nodded at the bowing of the people and the worried glances made me move quicker. The mansion came into sight and I suddenly remembered how much I hated those stairs as a child. Stairs the height of a five story home were the only thing between myself and my futon. The lanterns on the torii gates blew in the fall air and sweat fell down my brow. I gritted my teeth as I began my ascent. My tails dragged and felt heavy against the stairs as I slowly made progress. Every sound felt like a hammer banging against my skull, and I really wanted to go back and make her feel worse. It still felt like summer and not the beginning of fall in the slightest. I craved the cool wind of the fall as I slumped further up the stairs. My left ear twitched at the wailing of a crow, and I looked up and snarled at it. It cocked its tiny head at me before it flew off to bother someone else. After a bit of internal anger, I made it up the stairs with a heavy weight on my shoulders.

 “Igarashi-sama!” I looked to my left as several maids ran up to me and frantically tugged me inside the mansion. Their squeaky little voices made my headache worse and I was about to snap at them but a voice suddenly spoke up as they laid me on my futon.

 “Oh? Poor little Takeshi...did the scary vixen hurt you~” I glanced at my window to see my elder brother sneering down at me. I rolled my eyes and looked at the ceiling as he chuckled and jumped into the room. The women giggled and sighed as he caressed their cheeks and ran his hand over their tails. He had all of the women under his thumb and it showed. I was only wondering when one of them would announce their pregnancy. Our mother would kill him if he ever did. Our father probably wouldn’t care as much as he used to about such things. Dropping cross legged next to me, he jabbed a sharp finger into my open wound. 

 “Fucker!” I hissed out and punched him in the jaw. It burned like fire and sent shivers up and down my spine. Electricity coursed over my tails instinctively as I prepared to unleash my fury upon him. He rubbed his jaw and pushed me back against the futon without another chuckle. His red eyes glared down at me like he wanted to kill me, and I glared back just as hard. The women looked between us in fright and worry. If he wanted to fight right now, then I would beat him into the ground. Just as I was about to get up, our father walked into the room.

 “Enough! Both of you!” His tails whipped behind him angrily and one of them hit my idiot older brother. “Jin, leave us now. I have to speak with your brother alone.” My brother grumbled under his breath but left regardless. The maids were stitching me up and making me drink awful medicine as my father sat across from me.

 “Did she do this to you?”

 “Yes...yes she did.” I looked away from his as my hair stood on end. The static in the air used to make me uncomfortable, but I was all too used to my father and his temper. Thankfully, I was never really on the receiving end of it. Jin always managed to piss our father off once a day. By that point, he already had it out of his system. “I caught her trying to sneak past the border. We fought for some time, but hearing our men she took off, but not before wounding me.”

 “Did you manage to gravely wound her?”

 “I think I did father. I would have finished her if she didn’t take off. If she doesn’t make it back to her territory in time she should succumb.”

 “We still can’t guarantee that. Little bitch is tenacious and an annoyance to kill just like her father.”

 “Agreed.” I frowned at his vulgarity but I had no right to comment on it. I respected her skill as my opponent, but also as a woman. Calling her out of her name, or any woman for that matter just felt wrong. “How is mother?”

 “She’s fine. The constant need to be on bed rest is starting to get to her. She’d rather be out fighting this war with us.”

 “Yes well she is in no condition to fight. She has always been a stubborn woman.” 

 “I am well aware son. Anyway, we have to come up with a new strategy to combat those annoying vermin.” I nodded as my bandages were tightened and I was given water to wash out that bitter medicine. “Our rice fields have taken considerable damage and over two hundred people on the borders have died. Some of our best blacksmiths have died in the fires as well.”

 “Why are they attacking the villagers? They’ve never done it before.”

 “My guess is that they want to get rid of our resources. Those leeches have done that for years. I guess they would rather hit the source.”

 “So what is the plan of attack? If they are trying to starve us out and attack our blacksmiths. Perhaps we need to adopt the same strategy. Although instead of the food, what if we poison the water. They could go for weeks without food, but without water it would only take days to weaken them.”

 “Clever my son. I’ll talk to your mother about her old poison recipes. The one other good thing your grandmother did besides birth your mother before she passed.” He rolled his eyes and I smirked. My grandmother was a tyrant when she was alive. It was a devastating day when she was murdered by the father of the current head of the Yamaguchi clan. My mother had been beside herself in rage and despair. She didn’t leave her room for months and no one could get her to leave. My father patted my shoulder before he left to see my mother. The maids gave me quick deep bows before they skirted away to go about their days.

 “Always going to be the favorite son Takeshi?”

 “Father doesn’t have any favorites Jin.”

 “Yes but he does have a preference…” I looked at my open window as Jin casually sat on the windowsill. Black lightning coursed over his clenched fist and I rolled my eyes at his jealousy. “Father is just so proud of you all of the time.”

 “Maybe it’s because I garner results on the battlefield and keep to my word.” I ignored his hiss of anger as I closed my eyes to meditate. “You need to grow up brother.”

 “You don’t get to speak on my level of maturity little brother! You might be the next head of the clan, but you are far from there yet!” I opened an eye as I heard him shuffle and hiss. He leaped from the window and I closed my eye again. He was far too old to be upset about leading our clan. I was not wrong with how my father felt about Jin, he was reckless and headstrong. He chose to act before thinking about any and everything. His foolishness was the cause of a major loss to our resources a few months back. We were still trying to recover from it, but this recent loss to the rice fields was an even greater loss. Something had to be done soon with this war, one side had to fall.

I would make sure that my family was not the loser in this game of chess.

~~~

 I sat on the roof of my home looking over the village with a sour taste in my mouth. Our people were suffering because of all the bloodshed and many have lost their homes because of it. Over a century of war, and there was nothing to show for it. I had to wonder at times...would a century's worth of pain be worth it? I rubbed my forehead as I watched the villagers go about their lives. At times I wondered what our enemy thought about this war. Did they even care that they were hurting innocent people? The way they go to battle told me a lot about them. My mother often said they were demons straight from hell. With the way how the daughter fights, I was inclined to agree with her. Hearing a noise, I turned to see Jin standing beside me with a cup of sake.

“You know I don’t like to drink after a harsh battle Jin, besides they could counter attack at any moment…”

“You need to relax and stop being such a stick in the mud.” I was about to comment but he thrust a cup into my hand. I rolled my eyes as he filled my cup and I took a small sip. “So poison little brother...didn’t think you had such dastardly ideas.”

“War is relentless as you know. Sometimes such methods need to be considered and used. I want to end this war soon brother. If I have to use such methods then so be it.”

“I only hope the little heiress doesn’t take a sip. I would much rather see her struggle under a blade.”

“Hmmm…” Jin chuckled as we silently drank our sake. The cool air was comforting after a long and rather painful day. “What do you think will happen once the war is over?”

“I think we will have a celebration that will last an entire month! Women will be all over us and I will get to sink my teeth into the women in their village! Haha! We will dominate this side of the country with an even greater iron fist!”

“You are annoyingly power hungry.”

“How can you not be?! Other clans don’t hold a candle to us brother! The only opposition we face is from the Yamaguchi clan! The gods themselves have blessed us with power and good fortune.”

“If that is the case...why is it taking us so long to win the war? Perhaps they are starting to go for the other side…” I mumbled against my cup as I took a deep drink. The sudden static in the air made me glance at Jin. His red eyes blazed angrily at me and I put my cup down to nonchalantly look him in the eyes. “What?”

“It seems you’d like the other side to win brother.” I scoffed at his sudden assessment as his tails whipped up electricity. His anger was always one of the most annoying things about him.

“I just want some peace after all is said and done Jin.” I looked into his eyes with indifference. “Is that really so bad?”

“Hah...being at peace just makes us weak.”

“How about you just don’t let that happen?” I finished my cup as he finally stopped talking. “Have a good night brother.” I jumped from the roof and into my mother’s garden. I hissed as my wound ached for taking that jump instead of walking. It seemed as though someone had already started to grow the plants that we needed. I’m sure my mother would not like that development, but she had no choice or say for that matter.

“Stubborn woman…” I looked up at the darkening sky with a heavy sigh. I had a feeling that the coming days would be much harder. I only hoped that my clan would be able to continue hanging on. I would make sure that we can enjoy our days of peace, once again.

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

Next: https://goddessofeternity.tumblr.com/post/653030254369193984/inaris-den

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Likes are welcomed!

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 27

Summary: The Pogues can’t seem to catch a break...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @ma10427 @outerbongs @lonely-kermit @agirlwholovescoffee @iamaunicorn4704 @gviosca @jellyfishbeansontoast @lasnaro @justcallmesams @lopineapples @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid​ @tangledinsparkles​ @hurricane-abigail​ @eb15​

AU:Part 24 Part 25  Part 26 Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31

Note: Hope you guys enjoy! As always let me know what you guys think!

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

I woke up to the sound of machines beeping, my eyes feeling heavy as I tried to open them. I looked around to see a hospital room, my leg was heavily bandaged, tubes running in and out of me, and the feeling of something heavy on my hand. I looked to the other side of me to see Kie holding my hand, Pope beside of her. JJ was nowhere in sight which worried me.

“Hey, how do you feel?” she asked, rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb.

“Sore, sleepy....where’s JJ?” I asked, concerned that he wasn’t right beside me. Kie looked at Pope, her expression somber. “Kie, where’s JJ?” I asked again, trying to sit up.

“We don’t know...” Pope said, my eyes widening.

“He went to go get you some other clothes...he never came back. I’ve called him and Pope has too, it goes straight to voicemail.” Kie said, brushing some hair out of my face.

“Where’s my phone, I’ll try.” I said, sitting up. My body protested, but I forced my muscles to cooperate. I called JJ, he picked up on the first ring.

“JJ? Where are you?” I asked worriedly.

“Angel, knew you’d be calling soon.” Barry said from JJ’s phone.

“Barry? Where’s JJ? What did you do to him?” I yelled, my heart monitor starting to beep from how fast my heart was going.

“You’ll get him back when I get my 25k Angel, he’s going to do some jobs for me. Not sure how pretty he’ll be when you get him back though in all honesty.” he said, I could hear yelling in the background.

“If you so much as harm a single strand of hair on his head Barry I’ll make sure you’re dead this time around.” I growled, gripping my phone tighter. 

“Clock’s tickin’ Angel, better start digging up some cash. I’ll let you say bye to your boy .” Barry said, I heard shuffling before I heard JJ’s voice.

“Hey sweets” JJ croaked, his voice rougher than usual.

“JJ! Don’t worry baby we’re coming to get you.” I said, tears rolling down my face.

“I’m so so sorry baby, please just stay home. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore than you already are. Please, don’t try to be a hero for me.” he said firmly.

“I already told you Maybank, I’m not going another day without you. It’s you and me until the end Blondie. Sit tight we’ll be there soon, I love you.” I said, telling Pope to go get a nurse.

“I love you, be careful.” he said, the line going dead right after. 

I put my phone down, staring at the wall. I saw Kie’s lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I ripped the covers off of me, swinging my legs off of the bed. I yanked the tubes and cords out of me, going to grab my clothes.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Kie shouted, trying to grab a hold of me. 

“I’m getting the fuck out of here Kiara, JJ is in trouble. Barry has him and is going to torture him until we find 25k. I’m not wasting anytime, we’re going to make a visit to the Cameron’s.” I said, limping to the bathroom.

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

Pope pulled up to the Cameron’s, we parked by a house beside theirs so the van couldn’t be seen. I got out of the van, turning to look at my friends.

“Ok, I’m going to try and make it in and out in 30 minutes. Ward has to have some cash in his house somewhere.” I said.

“What about surveillance cameras? They’re bound to have those.” Kie said, her look telling me that she did not like this plan.

“Way ahead of you, I brought these mini pliers so I could cut the wires to their electrical box. I remember the last time we were here, the box was just outside of Sarah’s room.” I said, showing them my mini tool. Kie huffed, sitting back in her seat.

“I don’t like this...” she grumbled.

“I can’t just let Barry torture JJ Kiara! He’s in trouble!” I exclaimed, not understanding why she was so against this.

“He’s the one that got us in this mess in the first place!” she shouted, Pope putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Kie, this is not the time to-” Pope said.

“Shut up Pope!” Kie yelled.

“So it’s ok to help my brother get out of trouble, but now that JJ needs our help you just want to let him be tortured by a blood crazy drug dealer? Got it.” I said, giving a thumbs up.

“I’m just saying I don’t like that we have to resort to stealing money from someone to bail JJ out,” she sighed.

“Technically we’re stealing from someone who stole from us, so it evens out the playing field if you think about it.” Pope rambled.

“Thank you Pope!” I said, Kie rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. 

“You also just got out of the hospital, well, escaped from the hospital for being shot.” she said.

“I have to agree on those circumstances, you shouldn’t even be standing.” Pope said.

“Wish me luck,” I said, saluting them before taking off towards the Cameron’s house. 

It didn’t look like anyone was home, I didn’t spot any vehicles outside their home. Rafe’s bike wasn’t in sight either, this was a good sign. I ran to the side of the house where Sarah’s room was, locating the electrical box. I opened it, tearing the insides out until I could see all the wires connecting to the house. I snipped every single wire in sight, having to use more force with the bigger wires. After that, I climbed the side of the house until I was at the window. The window was surprisingly unlocked, so I slid myself in with ease. My leg screaming at me, I could feel the blood pumping in my leg. The pain excruciating, but I had to ignore it. I had to save JJ.

I listened to see if there was any noise in the house, straining my ears to pick up any sound. I tiptoed to the door, being careful on the creaky parts of the floor. I peaked out of the room, seeing no one on the second floor. I ran to Ward’s office, putting my ear against the door to check for any signs of someone being in there. I slowly peaked my head in, looking both ways before fully stepping in the office.

I looked around to see if Ward was dumb enough to have the safe somewhere obvious, hoping that he was so this would be easy. Nothing in my life was ever easy though. I started to feel anxious, the thought of Barry, and no doubt Rafe, hurting JJ. I hoped more than anything that I would find JJ in one piece, but I needed to focus. I started to tear the place apart, pulling on shelves and books, looking under furniture. 

I was starting to lose hope, until I looked back at the huge picture of Tanny. I had this feeling that I should look behind the picture. I walked over to it, running my fingers where I could reach. I heard a click, pulling back on the picture, and there it was. It was an eight digit code safe, seemed easy enough for me to guess. 

I went through all his children’s, wife’s, and even tried his birthday. Nothing. Just for sport I tried mine and John B.’s birthday, starting to get frustrated. I turned to his desk, going through a bunch of his files on The Royal Merchant. I looked for an eight digit number that could give me a clue to what the code might be. I froze when I found a picture.

It was a picture of him, Scooter, and my father. Then something clicked, I turned back and tried the date my father went missing. The safe beeped, a green light flashing, and it opened. I was exhilarated, finding wads and wads of cash. I shrugged JJ’s backpack off my shoulders, stuffing all the money I could into the backpack. My phone started to vibrate in my pocket, my eyes widening at the message.

“GET OUT NOW! WARD AND RAFE ARE COMING IN!!!” from Pope. 

I shut the safe, carefully shutting the picture frame. I opened the door to see Rafe and Ward coming up the steps, thankfully they hadn’t heard me. I quickly shut the door back, looking for a place to hide. I saw the space between a bookshelf, making a mad dash to it. I wiggled myself in just as Rafe and Ward walked in. I held my breath as I watched them sit at his desk.

“I don’t remember leaving my stuff out like this,” Ward mumbled.

“Can you please just call the electrical company so we can get the WiFi back.” Rafe huffed, pacing around the room.

“Don’t you have better things to do Rafe?” Ward asked, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Ward, it looks like someone hacked at the electrical box! What is going on?” Rose asked.

“What? I’ll come take a look.” Ward sighed, all of them heading out.

I let out the breath I was holding, coming out of my hiding spot. I scurried to the door, watching them go down the stairs. I stepped out, going towards Sarah’s room.

“Hello little Pogue,” Rafe’s voice came from behind me. I jumped, spinning around.

“Rafe,” I gasped.

“Come back for more?” he asked, smirking at me. 

“I came for my money you son of a bitch” I sneered, taking off to Sarah’s room.

“Get back here!” Rafe yelled, chasing after me. 

I jumped out of Sarah’s window, hurrying down the ladder. I sprinted to the front of the house, ignoring the immense pain in my leg. Rafe came out of the front of the house just as I made it past the front steps, catching up to me. I pushed myself faster, waving my hands at the van.

“POPE DRIVE!” I screeched, making my legs move despite them screaming at me to stop. 

Kie opened the van as Pope took off, reaching out for my hand. I grabbed a hold of her, pulling myself in. Rafe was right behind me, grabbing the side of the door. Kie and I heaved at the door, the piece of shit getting stuck of course. Rafe tried to grab at me, I laid back and kicked my legs forward. I successfully got him in the chest, knocking him off the van. Kie and I got the door shut, both of us panting.

“Did you get it?” Pope asked, glancing back at us.

“I took the whole damn thing baby!” I cheered, showing the inside of JJ’s backpack. 

“Oh shit!” Kie smiled, high-fiving me.

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

We were back at the chateau, getting everything ready to go find JJ. I called JJ’s phone again, Barry picking up.

“Angel, you got my money?” he asked.

“All of it, now where is he?” I spat.

“Calm down Angel, you’ll get your boy back in no time.” he said.

“What do you mean no time? I got your money that’s what you wanted!” I shouted, pacing around the room.

“I’m not done playing Angel,” he whispered, my heart dropped.

“Barry, that boy has suffered enough because of Luke! Let him go!” I yelled.

“You see Angel, I don’t take kindly to people stealing from me. I’ll let you know when you can have him back.” he laughed.

“BARRY!” I screeched, the line went dead.

“NO!” I wailed, throwing my phone at the wall. 

“What happened?!” Kie asked, coming to my side. Pope picked up my phone, bringing it to me. 

“He’s not letting JJ go, he said he’s not done playing with us.” I sobbed, both of them hugging me.

“We’ll figure something out, we always do.” Pope said, always trying to be the optimist in the most awful situations. 

“You’re right, we need to focus. We know where Barry lives right? Maybe we could go there and find a clue to where he’s keeping JJ.” I brainstormed, pacing around the living room.The front door opened, all of us turning to look. I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth falling open.

“Hi bubba,” John B. whispered.

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

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Jason liking his crush a little too much

Part 2

Requests: Yes or No

Robin! Jason Todd

Jason wasn't gonna give up

He tried to impress you at every chance he got

You simply nodded and focused your attention back to the task

It hurt

And made him angry

Why couldn't you accept that he was the one for you??

He was able to get you alone one day

Jason sat down across from you

"Do you need something?" You asked, a bit coldly. Jason frowned.

"Why are you avoiding me? Is it because you're finally realizing we're meant to be?" He asked. You blinked, looking at him.

"What?"

Jason stood, walking over to you and sitting beside you. You tried to make space but Jason grabbed your wrist. Tightly.

"I just wanna be with you." He said, staring at you with saddness in his eyes.

"Jay, we're not-"

"I'll stop when you agree to date me." You pressed your lips into a thin line. Gar was petrified of Jason and rest of the team was weary of him.

"Fine." Jason's eyes lit up and he tried to kiss you but you turned your head away.

"Playing hard to get again?" Jason laughed, resting his head on your shoulder as he stared up at you with a lovey dovey look in his eyes.

When the team got back, Gar gave you the most 'I'm so sorry' look ever as Jason cuddled up to you and cooed that you two were a couple

He glared at Rachel when she said it didn't make sense

You were incredibly uncomfortable with Jay hanging around you 24/7

He was always at your side

You felt suffocated

Finally, when Kory convinced Jay of going with her somewhere, you spoke with Dick

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" He asked, placing a hand on your arm.

"I.. I didn't want anyone getting hurt and.. He's your little brother." You said, shoulders slumping. Dick frowned, pulling you into a hug.

"The hell's going on here?" You jumped away from Dick, looking at Jason but his anger was only directed at his brother

"Jay-" You quickly approached him.

"Calm down-"

"You're living in a fairy tail, Jason." Dick said. Jay moved you to the side and walked up to his brother.

"(Y/N) doesn't even love you." That was Jason trigger.

He lunged at his brother and a fight between them quickly ensued.

Dick was more experienced, older, and stronger but Jason's attacks were driven by pure hate and anger

You could only watch

No point in breaking them up

"What the hell is going on?" Kory asked as Hank rushed in and pulled them apart.

"Calm the fuck down!"

"Don't ever touch my girl/boy ever again." Jason sneered, walking away. You swallowed when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room.

"Fuck, Jason!" You pulled your wrist back, hissing and looking at the forming bruise.

"I'm gonna kill him.." Jason said quietly, wiping blood away from his nose. You almost shivered at his tone.

You were genuinely fearful for Dick's life

Red Hood! Jason Todd

Btw the reason I'm using fanart instead of gifs is because there's literally no gifs of Red Hood

You stared at the spot where your fiance/fiancee once sat

Jason had shot them and then dragged their body out

You weren't gonna let him break you or make you love him

No matter what he did

No matter how many times he kissed you and tried to get you to kiss him back

No matter how many times he hugged and spooned you during the night

Or when he spoonfed you

And called you pet names

You weren't gonna give in

Jason forced you to drink the water, one hand on your cheek as his fingers massaged the back of your neck. You didn't look at him which made him huff.

"Babe.." He whined, putting the cup on the nightstand and leaning over. He kissed you but you pressed your lips into a thin line.

Jason grunted, annoyed but he didn't do anything to you.

He stood, grabbing his mask and helmet. Jason put them on and climbed out the window.

"I'll be back soon, I love you." He said before leaving. You waiting a few minutes before sitting up and looking at the cup. Glass. Good.

You moved your body a bit and grabbed the cup with your feet, bringing it over to you. It was risky but you wanted to get out.

Picking up the glass with your teeth, you were able to grab it with your hands and smash it against the wall until you had a shard. You tossed the shard to the side on the pillow before working on getting free.

You can decide on that. Whether you slipped your hands out or used a bobby pin

Once you were out of your handcuffs, you grabbed the shard and looked at your arm. Jason had planted a tracking device on you the night after he had taken you

You cut the tracking device out, wincing and whimpering. You ripped some of the covers, making a makeshift bandage to wrap around your arm and stop/soak up the blood. You left through the window, putting as much distance between you and the apartment

Somehow, undetected, you reached your cousins hideout

You knew Selina would help you

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

Nobody Stops For Strangers (Part II)

Summary: On the way to a hunt, Dean and Y/N run into a stranger on the side of the road. They learn the hard way why nobody stops for strangers.

Spoilers for The Hitcher (2007) below

Pairing: Dean x reader; Sam x reader (comfort; platonic)

Warnings: horror thematic elements, swearing, mentions of assault

Word count: 1375

Read part one here

You woke with a start, facing the opposite way that you fell asleep, toward the window so you could see that it was still dark outside. You were warm and felt a weight around your waist making you tense momentarily, before you sighed realizing it was just Dean. Dean and you had always been flirty, and this wasn’t the first time you shared a bed, but usually you were the one who was curled into his side in the morning, his hands and arms gentlemanly to himself. This, however, was new. But you had to admit, you liked it. 

You smiled a bit to yourself, moving your hand to his arm, stopping at his wrist, realizing it was empty. The beaded bracelet he usually wore missing. You tensed again, hunter instincts kicking into overdrive when a hand slapped roughly over your mouth, silencing the shout you were about emit. The stranger’s other arm snaked under you and around your waist, gripping uncomfortably to your hip.

“Hello, again.” The stranger whispered into your ear, his hot breath and uncomfortable grasp making you sweat. You struggled against the weight of his arm against you when you felt his hand begin to slide down your lower half. You screamed again against the stranger’s hand as you tried to wiggle free from his grasp, his erratic breathing in your ear making you want to vomit. Taking a moment to think and ignore the stranger’s groping hands, you act quickly, opening your mouth as far as it could go and biting hard into the stranger’s palm, feeling his blood trickle down your chin. The man groaned loudly, shoving you roughly to the floor, your head bouncing off of the bedside table with a crack. You watched the man jump to his feet, teeth shining as he sneered at you, when you heard a knock at the door.

“Dean? I couldn’t get a key from the front desk, let me in please.” The scene seemed to move in slow motion as you watched the man charge toward the bathroom and felt your own mouth open wide to scream for Sam.

“Help, please!” You yelled as loud as you could. The pressure on your head was excruciating and you pressed your hands roughly to the wound, hearing what could only be described as Sam slamming his entire body into the door, when suddenly it flew open with a crack, splinters falling to the ground.

Sam ran in, eyes wild, searching around for you, when he spotted you hunched between the two beds, head bleeding. He ran over crouching before you and you couldn’t help but flinch out of his reach, the movement producing a searing pain down the middle of your forehead. Sam retracted his arms when he saw you flinch away from him, and stood up searching the room quickly, as you rested your pounding head against the mattress. Now that you were safe tears began to leak from your eyes, both from the pain of hitting your head and the reality of the situation you just narrowly escaped from.

Sam returned from the bathroom, blowing out a breath, and sat down next to you again, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him. You rested your head against his shoulder and let the tears fall, accepting the comfort of Sam’s tight grip on you. He let you cry and sit for a while, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down your arm, waiting in silence.

“It was him, Sam.” You finally choked out, feeling the younger Winchester tense against you.

“The guy from the road?” He clarified, and you nodded your head in response.

“He was in bed with me. I thought he was Dean. He…” You stopped, choking on the final statement, not ready to admit how scared you really were. Or how long it took for your hunter instincts to kick in and realize the stranger wasn’t Dean. How disappointing you were as a hunter in that moment. Sam’s grip tightened on you and he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The tears came a bit faster from Sam’s comfort, but you felt Sam’s head lift when he heard quiet footsteps in the doorway. You lifted your head slightly and saw a bewildered Dean, walking through the open entryway, taking in the shattered door in front of him. It took him a moment to process, but when he saw you and Sam he rushed over, kneeling down in front of you.

“Y/N,” He asked gruffly, anxious eyes darting between you and his brother. “Baby…” he continued, reaching out toward you, but you shrunk back in response, remembering the feel of the stranger’s hands on you when you thought they were Dean’s. How disappointed would Dean be when he found out how weak you were?

Dean sat back on his heels not knowing what was going on in your head, eyes filled with fear, as he watched you move your head back to Sam’s chest, hiding from him.

“What happened?” Dean whispered to his brother, as if you weren’t in the room. You scoffed a little, and Sam’s grip on your shoulders tightened.

“Where were you?” Sam asked in response, eyeing his brother.

Dean hesitated before answering. “I was… out.” He finally stated with a huff. Sam had heard all he needed to, and he lifted you gently off of the floor and onto the bed, laying you across the comforter. You buried your head into the pillow and curled into a ball, but Sam lifted your chin gently looking into your eyes.

“Hey,” Sam began smoothing back your hair a little. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you both, but you clenched yours closed.

“Hey,” Sam began again quieter. “We’ll be right back. Please don’t fall asleep, okay? I’m not sure if you have a concussion or not.” Sam stopped and waited for you to open your eyes, and you nodded once at him. Satisfied, he headed toward the door, pulling Dean roughly behind him. You stared at the wall, moving so your back was facing the the wide-open door but you could hear the brothers muffled talking outside.

“While you were out,” Sam began, barely covering his anger. “The guy you didn’t pick up decided to hang out in bed with Y/N.” Sam was practically yelling when he finished, and you heard a thump against the wall that made you jump and turn toward the window.

Sam sighed heavily, and you could see his silhouette from behind the window curtains as he glanced in at you. “Apparently,” he continued lowering his voice slightly. “She thought he was you. She wouldn’t tell me the whole story, though.” You heard another thump as one of the brothers brought their fist to the side of the building. They lowered their voices further so you couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they came back into the room shortly after. Sam worked to close the door as best as he could, and Dean walked up to you laying on the bed in a ball, eyes open and staring toward the windows.

“Sweetheart,” Dean began, lowering himself to sit on the bed at your feet. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and when you didn’t flinch away, he leaned toward you slightly, his hand resting at the small of your back.

“Baby,” he tried again carefully, pausing until you glanced at him slowly. When you met his green eyes, you saw nothing but pain and regret and it made your heart stop for a second. Maybe he wasn’t as disappointed as you thought… You had no idea where Dean had gone or how long the stranger had been in bed with you, but in that moment, you wanted nothing more than the comfort of Dean’s arms around you. You lifted yourself up and moved to sit next to him, allowing him to engulf you in his embrace. You felt his lips pause at your hairline as he placed a kiss to your temple. Dean rested his cheek on top of your head and made eye contact with Sam from across the room before speaking.

“I’m going to rip his lungs out.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Battle for the Throne

“This is between you and me.” 

Lu Mingfei’s wingspan exceeded Mingze’s twice over. To the naked eye it was like an eagle intimidating a hawk. Now that I was close enough, I could see the pulsing blue veins that lined through the delicate membranes, the fine sharp scales covering the the surface of the wing bones. These scales moved independently of each other, creating a soft rattling hiss, a subtle threat.

Those scales were a formidable armor and Mingfei used them to shield me from Mingze who wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. He sneered at us, arms crossed, standing straight up and down.

His soft wicked laugh reached my ears. “Then, I’d better make sure she doesn’t interfere again.” His golden eyes burned suddenly brighter. The scales from his neck grew upward until they covered his hair in heavy bony plates. They descended like a hood, covering his eyes and then the rest of his face in armor.

The scales clicked, rising and falling against his body and released a dark mist cut through by purple electric sparks. A dull, loud heatbeat sound thundered out of him and I was assailed by a sudden terror. It was a commandment to run that I couldn’t disobey. So I directed Gungnir to take me away far away toward the village.

The village streets were teeming with the bodies of serpents. They burst into windows and slithered inside, some bunching up and trying to go in at once and getting stuck. Screams and the flashing light of gunfire came from inside the houses. 

I hurried to one. I opened the door and was met with a dark blue serpent with rose-gold eyes. It’s large body filled the tiny living room. Behind it, a woman lay, snapped in two and behind her, in the case of a large old grandfather clock, a young child shivered.

I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to draw attention to the little kid. The large head of the serpent reared back and I leaped to the side, just within the door frame, as the jaws opened wide and thrust its knife-like teeth at me. The beast missed and latched on to the entrance, bit down and tore the door frame into splinters.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face and ears, like it would burst out of the top of my head. From my training I knew the killer point was right behind the head. But there was no room to maneuver in the tiny cottage. The large black body came rushing at me and I jumped to avoid being crushed, landed, staggered and crashed into the table.

My next vision was those twin rows of teeth. Reflexively, I raised the point of Gungnir. The spear jerked as it pierced the back of the throat of the monster, being pulled by the powerful muscles. The jaws snapped shut on my hand. The unimaginable pressure made me scream. I could feel the grind and pop of bones being crushed. It yanked back and dragged me airborne, straining the tendons in my shoulders, before tossing me into another wall. My head hit so hard enough the cave the plaster and for a moment I couldn’t see.

Then there was a quiet. Dazed, I looked at my bitten hand. Shattered bone showed through torn skin. But even as I watched, the wounds were already closing. The snake lay on its side, the head of Gungnir peeking out the back of the serpent’s neck. I got back up and called the spear to me. It pushed out the rest of the way an hovered there obediently for me to retrieve it. The golden light flashed and swirled about it, but I was used to this light by now.

I looked at the child who remained in a blood spattered clock case, shivering and wide eyed. I sighed. Did he soil himself in there? He would probably come out with PTSD. I limped over to the table and pulled off the white embroidered table cloth and covered it over the woman’s body and then left the house without a word.

A strong fish smell permeated the village, the sound of gunfire and screams were everywhere. And in the sky....

Dark clouds had blocked over the entire sky. The clouds were continually swirling in a spiral and descending like a curtain around the entire village. The wind was bursting in gusts strong enough to rattle the roofs of the buildings, blowing a frigid mix of mist and ice crystals in my face. I shielded myself with my hand. 

The dark swirling clouds were mixed with flashes of lighting and in the brief flashes I could see the two figures, battling it out in the heavens.

It wasn’t like a noble sword fight. This was no test of will between two graceful warriors. Their bodies collided like bulls, cracking with thunder, every crushing blow reverberating in the air. Another flash and they were entangling in each other, wrestling and in a free fall.

I wanted to go up there and help him but I could feel the heat, see the light, and the raging mix of snow and ice. A loud crack reached my ears as a metal roof came off the top of the house and was swallowed by the maelstrom. Without any support, the walls of the house began to cave in. The ground began to shake and cracks were crawling their way towards my feet. Tundra ground was not the most stable and soon the houses were starting to sink.

Screams from the doomed people inside grew into frantic desperate pleas of horrible realization that the ground under them was opening to swallow them whole.

The kid!

I hurried under shifting ground back into the house and stumbled over the dead dragon’s body and open the case and grab the child from it. It clung to me hard enough to choke.

The swirling clouds now were being cut through by both lighting and fire. Fire had spread and was leaping from house to house fed by the ferocious wind. I turned and ran towards the swirling blackness that ringed the village like a massive tornado. It was a roaring wall of impossible wind and rain that was tearing not only through the air  but also destroying the ground. 

I was trapped. We were all trapped.

Even the serpents were raising their heads to the sky and pleading for mercy from their unforgiving master.

I looked up at the sky I couldn’t see them but I could sense from the elemental fluctuation that rumbled through my heart and gave me chills that their battle was growing more and more desperate.

Unlike most brothers, no one here had that clearer upper hand. Though one was supposedly weaker than the other when it came to the Four Monarchs. The Dark King Brothers were more equally matched. 

The ruler was the one with the greatest lust for blood!

A bright shock of light and I saw someone fall from the sky towards the ground. In pursuit, the golden eyed devil Mingze was howling with gleeful, mad, screaming laughter. His wings pumping, he shot past the falling Mingfei and kicked him hard into the thundering cloud. The wind was a deadly furious blender not only of fire and ice, but also debris from the village.

Mingze whirled and looked down at me with a wicked grin and I backed away when he turned on a wing tip and hurried my way. 

I had to dropped the kid and aim my spear at him. 

His mad grin filled my eyes and would fill my nightmares for years. The rain slicked hair danced in the night and he floated about me, laughing, trying not to get at me but but at the little boy desperately crying behind me at my feet.

I felt my blood boil. He was nothing but an evil bully! 

Suddenly a hand came from the dark wind behind me and seized Mingze by that hair and dragged him head first into those opaque clouds. I heard his screech of rage. That laughter had stopped.

The boy was grabbing on to my arm and I backed away. Mingfei’s wingspan had grown. Those wings now filled the entire cloud, like the wings of a commercial jetliner. Those golden eyes stared down at him

Dragon. Mingfei was....

Mingze was pinned down to the ground by his neck by a large clawed hand.

He screamed in his face. “Stop this!”

“No! Never!” Mingze laughed. “You either eat me or give me your life! Those are your two choices!”

He then gathered is legs under him and kicked hard. Iron claws met iron scales, hooked and became stuck. Were it not for the armored scales, Mingfei would have been disembowled  Mingfei suddenly was locked in an embrace with his brother. He went airborne, rolling to free himself.

I could hear Mingze laughing. “Give up...”

Something wet hit my face. and I reached up. My hand came away red. It was raining blood. I gasped and shouted into the sky. 

“MINGFEI!”

[jmeelee]

Chapter 1          [Read Chapter 2 Here]

The hazel eyes peering down at him in the weak light are a shade lighter than the thick emerald-green canopy hanging over his bed. Stiles blinks away his dreams. “How’d you get into the boys’ dormitory, Lydia?” His voice rasps as it travels out of his dry throat into the cool dungeon air, but Scott and the other boys won’t hear him over the Muffliato Lydia cast.

She shrugs. “What? Like it’s hard?” The tip of her Applewood wand glows white, casting deep shadows along her body as she perches on the edge of his mattress. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have about a million fantasies that opened just like this, but as soon as she says, “Stiles, something’s wrong with Derek and his friends, and you need to come help,” he knows this ending won’t be as happy as he’s imagined.

“No,” he says, studiously ignoring the heart beating double-time behind his ribs at the mention of his ex-childhood friend. He turns away, face-planting into the cool side of his pillow. He raises his head a fraction of an inch. “Did he...” He’s a masochist, because he already knows the answer, but the question is tumbling out of his mouth anyway. “Did he ask for my help? Me, specifically?”

Manicured nails trace soft, soothing lines up and down his back. That’s a no, then. “If it were you in trouble, you’d cut off your nose to spite your face, rather than ask him for anything. And Derek’s just as much of an idiot as you are. You’re perfect for each other.”

He huffs. “Why should I help those jerks? Why should you?”

“Because, you don’t just stop loving people.”

Stiles grumbles in response. “Don’t love him.”

“Hmmm, sure you don’t. Anyway, I’ve already talked to my grandmother, and she said we needed to do this together.”

He stiffens under her calming touch. Aw, shit. This really is bad. He rolls over, already whining. “I can’t believe you did a seance without me.” He shuffles over a few inches, holds up the corner of his comforter. He’s fresh off seven hours of sleep, but he’s never felt more exhausted. “Just... ten more minutes?”

She snuggles down next to him, pats the top of his head. “I tried to keep you out of it, if I could.” She’s the brightest witch in their year, so when he says it, he believes her.

Lake water washes against the dungeon windows. He sighs. “Here we go again.”

“Look on the bright side, Stiles. We take our N.E.W.T. exams in two months, and then it’s our graduation ceremony. This should be the last time.”

One more ‘here we go again.’ Somehow, the thought doesn’t make him feel any better.

———

They roll into the Ravenclaw common room—What gets broken without being held? A promise. DUH—sack of treacle tarts pilfered from the kitchen in hand. Stiles should be mentally prepared for what he sees, but he isn’t.

“Okay.” Stiles spins around slowly, arms crossed, leveling an accusatory gaze at each mask-covered witch and wizard. “Which one of you assholes pissed off the fairies?” Everyone in the room points to Derek.

Derek throws up his hands. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“It was kind of your fault,” Isaac, in a winter-white wolf mask, says. He hooks a finger into the bag of pastries, a stray blond curl falling across his covered forehead.

Stiles shoos him away, receiving a low, menacing growl for his trouble. “Scram, mongrel. No treats for you.”

“I thought you were supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards this place has seen in ages.” Erica encompasses the whole of Hogwarts with her broad, magnanimous hand wave. She manages to broadcast utter disdain, despite the golden wolf concealing the top half of her face. “The best you can do is dog jokes?”

“You want to hear a joke, Reyes?” Stiles sneers, clenching the fabric of his bag so hard the seam tears. “You’re a b—“

“Enough!” Five pairs of eyes snap to Lydia. “We are here to help.” She pointedly glares at Stiles. “So everyone, pull your heads out of your asses and put aside your differences. You can go back to hating each other and pretending the other doesn’t exist, after we talk to the fairies and get this curse removed.” She watches Stiles and Derek lock eyes, both quickly glancing away. “Or you kiss and make up. I do not care.” She shakes her head. “Just, for now, stop.”

“Why is yours… different?” Stiles’ voice comes out a hair too soft for his liking. Derek glances at him through the holes in the simple black wolf mask. The rest of the pack wear ornate metal wolf faces covered in swirls and divots, but Derek’s is smooth, edged down the snout in vibrant blood-red.

Derek shoves his balled fists into his trouser pockets. “I may have stepped through the rift first,” he painstakingly admits.

“Ah.” Stiles’ smile is small and sad. “So it is kind of your fault.”

“Told you,” Isaac hisses.

“Does it really matter whose fault it is?” Boyd steps forward, tugging at the silver wolf plastered to his face. Stiles has always been vocal about his disapproval of Derek’s new group of Animagi friends—it’s what led to their falling out, after years of close friendship—but he’s never had a problem with Vernon Boyd. Isaac and Erica are swagger and bluster, cutting and cruel, but Boyd is soft words and strong actions.

“No.” Stiles tosses Isaac the tarts and moves toward Boyd, grasping his chin in one hand and tilting his head to and fro, running a finger along the edge of the cold silver where it’s fused to his dark skin. “They never come off?” Stiles asks.

“Never,” Derek answers. He’s moved closer on silent feet while Stiles inspects the fairies’ handiwork. “They stay on all day, and all night. We can’t transform when they’re attached to us, and we can’t take them off. Hence why we haven’t been to any lessons in almost a week. Despite her soft spot for other Animagi, Headmistress McGonagall will start making inquiries soon.”

“They force us to dance,” Erica says. “Every night, we have to return, and dance in masquerade balls. It’s what the masks are for.”

So,” Stiles broaches, the words echoing off the wide, arched windows. “I’m pretty sure avoiding fairies at all costs is like, a pretty big lesson in both Defense against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. How’d a bunch of seventh years manage to get cursed?”

Derek’s shoulders hunch up around his ears, and he toes at a twinkling star on the midnight-blue carpet to avoid Stiles’ gaze. “When you’re an Amigus, your senses are heightened, to match the animal you transform into. We were out for a run together after dinner last week, and I smelled something. It was like…” Derek shakes his head. “It was so powerful, it completely overtook my senses. I followed it, and eventually, it led us to him.”

“What did it smell like?”

“Vanilla and pine,” Derek answers.

Boyd, Erica and Isaac all answer at the same time, their words blending together in Stiles’ overactive brain.

“Cotton candy.”

“The waiting room at Saint Mungo’s.”

“Cologne.”

Lydia holds up a hand. “Wait. You all smelled something different?”

Derek nods. “We all saw something different, too, at least at first.”

“I swear I saw the back of a little girl’s head,” Boyd shares, blinking hard. “I was trying to catch up to her, before she got lost.”

“I saw a Healer,” Erica supplies, shifting minutely in her high-backed chair.

“I thought it was my brother,” Isaac quietly says, “but that’s not possible. He drowned when I was younger.”

“Who did you see?” Stiles asks when Derek remains stubbornly silent.

Derek‘s eyes jump from the over-full bookcases to the statue of Ravens Ravenclaw to the domed ceiling. “I didn’t recognize the person.”

Stiles knows Derek’s handsome face like the back of his own hand, and that scowl means he’s not being honest, but Stiles chooses to let it go. For now. “Fairies are tricky. Did any try to bargain with you?”

Derek sighs. “The longer we looked at it, the clearer he became. What we thought was a child, or a healer, or family, was actually a man, a King. He knew my name, and whispered a riddle in my ear. If I answer correctly, we’ll be set free.”

Stiles gapes at Derek. “You’re a Ravenclaw! Riddles are your thing! What is it?”

Derek shakes his pretty head. “I can’t repeat it aloud. Can’t write it down, either; trust me, I’ve tried. He asks for the answer just before dawn, when the ball is ending. If I don’t answer correctly, we have to come back the next night.”

Stiles runs a shaky hand over his tired face. “Okay. What’s our next step?”

“We’ll follow them,” Lydia says, reaching toward Isaac and pulling an invisibility cloak out of the bag they brought with them.

Isaac, pastry crumbs falling from his mouth, peers into the sack. “What other goodies do you keep in here? Are there any chocolate frogs?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Where are we following you, exactly?”

“The Forbidden Forest,” Derek answers. Below the black wolf face his full lips press into a thin, hard line. “And then, into the fairy realm.”

Sterek Bingo 2019 • Themes: Fairies, Masquerade, Other Realms

[brooklynislandgirl]

This One || -

1. Who slowly eases into the pool while complaining about the temperature of the water and who takes a full-force no regrets flying cannonball into the water:

Sometimes Marion runs the dogs out along the creeks, down in the hollows of the bayous, cypress trees overhung with moss. The sounds of crickets and frogs and mosquitoes, a long list of local denizens. Sometimes, she follows along in human skin, keeping Marion company, with a running conversation, questions about the area, what it is like to live here alone, so far away from people, though she knows more about that than she cares to admit. Sometimes Beth follows along in feathers, completely indistinguishable from other birds except that she knows how and where to fly that she isn’t easy prey. Sometimes as a deer, sometimes as a gator. These are silent sojourns are company in her own way. They don’t last nearly as long; while her magick lets her wear whatever skin she wants so long as it is a living thing, too much time spent in an altered form starts to steal away her humanity, and causes her pattern to leak. 

This time, she spends too much time as a hummingbird and can only dart out and over the water without warning. Knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins, she hits the water’s surface like a boulder. The splash covers the dogs, the long reeds, and eventually Marion. When she comes up sputtering, she grins, covering her bareness with skin and the swamp water. She grins at the other woman sheepishly. “So. Can I...ah...borrow ya plaid, til I get somewhere wi’ clothes?”

2. Who can easily comfort the other when they’re sick and who sprays everything down with Lysol and wears an antimicrobial mask and pats the former with a broom to comfort them when they get sick?

Beth thinks she is going to die. Every smell, every whisper of sound, every touch only makes the nausea worse. Without the covers, she’s too cold. With them, she’s too hot. It’s so bad that even her hair follicles hurt. Not only that but her nose is red and chapped, her sinus passages and her eyes swollen, red, itchy. Her head is pounding, her body aches, she can’t even find a few moments of peace. She doesn’t even understand how people live like this. 

And while Zarek is in town picking up supplies because she can’t, Marion is keeping an eye on her. And there’s kind of a curl of her lip and an eye roll that Beth is familiar with, she’s seen it on her brother’s face a half a million times. But for really real this time, she’s dying.

"S'jus' a lil' cold, sha" Reproachfully, Beth glances in the other woman’s direction. And spends the next thirty seconds sneezing.  “Need. T’make. Living will.” She’s absolutely sure that next time instead of just a spritz of Lysol in her direction, Marion will feed her the entire can.

3.  Who’s the amazing cook and who almost burns the house down trying to microwave a pop tart?

Marion glances over to Beth, a sneer of disdain on her face. Reflected in the dainty Hawai’ian’s demeanour too. They can certainly blame one another for playing a bit of grab-ass with each other. The pan is no longer on fire though the lingering smell of burnt ...whatever... was still thick and heavy, almost more powerful than the smoke drifting out toward the windows. There is only one thing they can do. In unison, their voices rise. “RILEY!” “PANDA!”

He peels himself from the lean against the side of the place, and field strips his cigarette butt into the ashtray. It was like he could see this coming.  Heading to his truck, he’s already got the grill loaded up with charcoal, and the cooler he just knew to bring along. 4. Who immediately goes for the can of Raid when they see a bug and who picks it up like “no wait don’t kill it I wanna keep it”?

It’s instinct, Beth can see it in the start of the muscle twitch as Marion’s hand goes to to smack it right off her arm, like she would a mosquito or some other kind of ‘critter’. Thankfully, she is just quick enough to lean in and cup her hands around it. Plucks it free of Marion’s sleeve and pulls her hands apart just enough to peak into the dark space and murmur something unintelligible to it. “...’s jus’ one...da kine. Ya know... make big-big web? Like...Charlotte. Or...” She doesn’t know any other book characters based on Orb-weavers. This one is a particular beauty, green and white and about the size of a dime.

She offers Marion a brilliant smile, all sharp pointed teeth and soft, full lips. “No everybody evah see da beauty in nature, but is always dere, even undah da surface.” She excuses herself and makes her way toward the treeline to set her tiny captive free.

5. Who likes to lean over railings to get a better view and who freaks out and tries to pull the former back away from the rail screaming about how they might fall?

“Jus’ jump, sha.”

Beth squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head vehemently.

“..s’only twelve feet.” But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like the space between the branch and the ground is a million miles. Worse, she doesn’t know how she even got up here. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get down. “Gotta trust me. I’ll catch ya.” Not if her heart gives out before she makes it. And she stays there, arms wrapped around the tree bark for the better part of the hour, no matter how Marion threatens or cajoles. But she can’t hold on forever. At some point she’s either going to slip or she’s going to have to jump and neither option seems so great. Marion is...six feet. She’s five. That’s almost twelve, right? Carefully she sits down, still holding the trunk for dear life. “K-den. But...don’t drop me....au’rite?” 6. Who acts like they’re brave and fearless but actually gets terrified 15 minutes into a horror movie and who is usually the huge scaredy cat but isn’t fazed at all by most horror movies?

Beth tries to become one with the couch and when that fails, she builds a small wall of pillows and blankets around her. Lifts her forearms up defensively to block sight of the screen. But that doesn’t stave off her other senses. Beth can still hear the screaming. The slick, gushy sounds that are so very realistic she can all but taste the blood on the back of her tongue. The way that one guy is slicing skin off that kid’s face...

She knows it all too well from the ER. And even though she knows it’s movie-magic it still she can’t get over the feel of it all. She buries her face into Marion’s side and wishes it all away.

7. Who constantly criticizes the latter’s wardrobe and who dresses even more outrageously to further annoy the former?

She doesn’t have a thing that would fit Marion, who is a foot taller than she is, and though whip-cord lean, is still a few dress sizes larger too. And for all that she has money and influence, she can’t take Marion to the gala in jeans and a tee shirt, maybe some flannel if she’s dressing up. 

She translates what Marion says as “I ain’t wearing this.” though, technically it could have actually been ‘Fight sweater debris,’ just like it sounded. Beth doesn’t know why she hates the sheer black top and the leather skirt. Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t be let out of the house like that, but with Marion’s pale skin and long limbs...it would look stunning. “Okay. How about... black sequin kine dat look like it shot t’rough wi’ lava?”

8.Who likes total darkness when they sleep and who needs a night light?

Despite the rain, despite the fact that Beth was exhausted from the hunt and trying to keep just out of the Rougarou’s reach, despite the fact that she was too slowly for comfort healing up from the jagged chunks of her body having been ripped muscle from bone, she tosses and turns in the moonless dark of Marion’s bed.

She whimpers. Writhes. None of it is alluring when it is paired with the thick scent of frothing-at-the-mouth terror. That she attempts to keep moving, feet kicking under the cool sheets. Sweat soaking into her hair. Goes on for hours until Marion, in her wisdom, sets a candle out. The light falls on Beth, and she starts to calm, her breathing returning to normal.

In the morning, Beth doesn’t talk about it. But over her coffee, she hoarsely whispers, “mahalo f’ dat.”

9. Who loves kids and who scowls at the mere sight of them?

She disappears from everything for more than nine months; it’s more like a year and some. Three months after the birth of the child she finally emerges from her cabin, from out behind her husband, from everything she’s used to put space and silence between them. Has the gall to act like nothing is wrong, that nothing happened.  And to make matters worse, she brings the baby with her. He has her skin tone and her eyelashes. Almost takes up all of her available arm space because she’s not that big. A little tuft of black hair, black eyes when he flutters them open. She says his name is Styxx.  Like the river of the dead and damned. And though she doesn’t look any different than she did before, except maybe going up a cup-size, there’s something stiff in the way she walks. The ginger way she sits, and tries to cover the wince with a coo at the drowsing baby. She doesn’t see the scowl on Marion’s lips, or the shadow that passes behind her blue, blue eyes. If she had, she’d seen a flicker of pain and annoyance and how much Marion missed her.  Misses her still, because the woman sitting on her porch isn’t exactly Beth any more, is she? 10. Who plays games competitively and sucks at them and who plays games casually and is actually really heckin good?

Marion doesn’t care how many rounds of rummy she wins. Or when she insists on the checkers or chess or half a dozen other stupid board games that come out of her bag, all of which seem to have the same goal; time wasting and aggravation.  What she likes is how innocent Beth is even when the fires of competition seem to burn bright in her eyes. The little stories she tells about the game pieces, how she’d learned to play, which ones are her favourite.  It’s Trivial Pursuit, and the only person who can beat her, she says, is her brother.

There’s the way she dances in place and tosses popcorn at Marion when she actually loses a turn, followed by the trill of her laugh. The games don’t matter, but getting a spark of starlight to keep you company? That’s the miracle, isn’t it? 11. Who can handle spicy foods perfectly and who chugs an entire gallon of milk after accidentally eating one jalapeño?

It starts with a little ground black pepper. Then red pepper flake. There’s pepper sauce, a variety of chillies that would eat through most cooking pots if left long enough. Brewed for three days, if that’s what you want to call it, others would say it was fermented in the Devil’s nut-sack. Either way, it gets strained and heated, then cooled to room temperature before its put into the fridge. Beth swears by her brother’s hot-sauce. She tends to put it on most things, but then, how tasteful can vegetables and even some fruits be? Marion once told her that vegans, like her, tasted better. The meat sweeter, less stringy, less fatty, a whole laundry list of things, will inside the Rougarou made plans on what it would devour first when it finally got teeth into the little witch. It’s experimentation really, what combination of foods brings out the best in her. Marion doesn’t say maybe it’s honey, maybe its just her.

But she doesn’t want to crush Beth’s enthusiasm for the project.

[inu-jiru]

Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen - Reunion

Tomoe lifted her head, the yell carried by the mountain winds forcing her from her slumber. She stood up, her ear tilting towards the shed’s broken windows. It sounded like a voice, though she couldn’t be sure. It was already fading away. Tomoe’s sudden movements woke the dogs around her, Ken being the first to sit up.

“Eh, Tomoe?” the Dane asked with a yawn. “What’s the matter?”

“I...thought I heard someone…” The bitch replied. “Someone yelling…”

“Enemies?” said GB quickly, looking outside the windows with a look of fear on his face.

“I dunno, but…” Tomoe began squeezing her way past the other dogs, making her way outside. Her comrades followed behind her. The blizzard had calmed down again, leaving only the still air. Tomoe lifted her muzzle and took a sniff. Dogs. She could smell other dogs. Her heart fluttering in excitement, she began rushing in the direction of the scent. “This way!”

“Oi, wait up, little sis!” Kagetora called after her.

Tomoe ran until she reached a ledge overlooking a basin that cut into the mountain. As her nose informed her, two dogs were walking along the snow-covered trail, a Great Pyrenees and a little Akita mix. The other Ohu soldiers joined her, following her gaze.

“Who are they…?” murmured Ken to no one in particular. “That big guy looks like hell…”

“We need to help them,” Weed declared. Without waiting another second, Weed barked to the dogs down below. “Hey! Down there! Are you two alright?”

Down below, Hiro and Reika both froze, Reika pressing herself into the larger male’s body. They looked up, seeing the Ohu Army watching them from high above. At first, Hiro snarled, preparing himself for some sort of altercation. Then he noticed the two youngsters and their uncanny resemblances to the Ohu leaders. Hiro widened his eye in surprise.

“They found us…” Reika whispered in terror. “They found us, Hiro…!”

“No, Reika. Look.”

Despite her fear, Reika forced herself to look up. Now, she, too, Weed and Tomoe. She gasped.

“They look like…” she began in awe.

“I know,” said Hiro. Lifting his head, the Great Pyrenees called up to the group. “The little lady could use a place to rest. Mind if we come up?”

Hiro and Reika settled down together on the shed’s floor. Though the Pyrenees tried to hide it, the cold was starting to get him. He shivered as frostbite began settling in his wounded skin. Reika pressed herself against him. Even with her small body; it was the least she could do to try and share some of her own body heat. Hiro felt a warmth in his cheeks. After flashing the bitch a grin, Hiro looked to the Ohu dogs, who’d all gotten up and made room. Sitting closest to them were Weed and Tomoe. The Shepherd bitch was fidgeting, her nostrils flared as two familiar scents clung to the pair.

“You two were with our parents…” said Tomoe in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.“Hougen’s base...we’re close, aren’t we?”

“Mmm…” replied Hiro, nodding slightly. “Some Ohu dogs snuck into Hougen’s ranks and helped us escape. Gin should be on the western path. We were all meant to rendezvous in Shiga.”

“Ah,” Ken said, perking. “To Big Brother’s territory, no doubt. Weed, Tomoe, this is perfect. You’ll be able to meet Gin and John in no time!”

“John…” murmured Reika. She lowered her head, her eyes darkening. Hiro, too, had a dark expression. Tomoe felt her heart begin to race.

“My Dad IS on his way to Shiga, right…?” asked Tomoe. The fear was clear in her voice. Dogs behind her shared worried glances.

“...He stayed behind so that we could escape,” Hiro admitted. He lowered his head, his teeth biting into his lower lip and drawing blood. “He promised that he wouldn’t die, but--”

“What!?” Immediately Tomoe stood up, her fur bristling. “Where is he!?”

“You aren’t thinking of going alone, are you, Tomoe?” asked GB nervously. “What if that guy’s already…?”

“Shut up…!” The Shepherd bitch turned to glare at the Setter, her eyes blazing with rage, but also glossy with tears. “I’m not gonna let my dad die!”

“West…” Hiro panted. He began lying down as the frostbite began taking its toll. “Go back west and you’ll find him and some allies. There’s still time to...to…”

Hiro trailed off, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. The dogs around him gasped. Reika threw her forelegs around Hiro’s shoulders, shaking him frantically.

“Hiro…!” she cried. “Hiro! Wake up!”

“He needs warmth,” Jerome instructed. He turned to the other dogs. “Quickly, before his frostbite gets worse.”

Tomoe stood where she was, feeling her comrades brushing past her as they rushed to Hiro’s aid, throwing their bodies over him and licking at his wounds. Ken and Kagetora paused beside her.

“If you wanna go,” Kagetora barked. “We’ll come with you.”

“Mmm.” The bitch nodded. “Come on; we need to hurry.” Nodding, the two males began following Tomoe outside. As Hiro had told them, they headed west, following the path he and Reika had taken before. Tomoe took the lead, pushing herself as far as she could go. Under no circumstances would she allow her father to die. She’d never forgive herself if she did.

“John…” Tommy choked, coughing blood and bile onto the snow. He was seconds away from death; the nearby Rossi had already slipped away from his injuries. John, still unable to escape the many sets of fangs, could just barely crane his head towards the Kishu. “It was an honor...fighting alongside you…! Please...live on for us…!”

“Don’t give up!” John pleaded. “Hang on, goddamn it! We can still win this!”

“You’re not winning shit!” Matsu declared, bringing his paw down on Tommy’s head. He pressed his muzzle into the snow, blocking his nostrils. Tommy squirmed and squirmed, but, alas, he’d lost all of his strength. John could only watch, horrified, as the Kishu was slowly suffocated.

“Let him go!” John bit at a dog’s leg, his rage and grief building with each passing second. “You goddamned bastards!”

“Release him!” added a new voice. Everyone paused; even John’s eyes had to wander in search of the new arrival at the scene. Suddenly, Hook appeared, barreling into Matsu and knocking him away from Tommy. The Husky crashed into his allies, landing in a heap of fur. Free to breathe, Tommy just barely managed to lift his head.

“Hook…” the Kishu whispered with a weak smile. The Labrador mix looked down at him, his gaze gentle.

“You did great, Tommy,” replied Hook. “Leave the rest of this to us now.” Hook looked towards John next. “General! This is your chance!”

John, shaking himself from his shock, realized the grip of the other dogs had loosened due to their surprise. A new fire sparked inside of the Shepherd, and with a triumphant shout, John pushed himself up. He pushed the unsuspecting grunts away and joined Hook’s side, licking his chops.

“Thanks, youngster,” said John. “I owe you one.”

“We can finish this,” Hook said, though the slight shake in his voice made it clear that he was trying to convince himself rather than John. “Even if it’s just the two of us, we can win.”

“Mmm,” John nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

“Grrr!” Matsu had gotten to his paws and was now glaring daggers at Hook. “Another traitor? How many of you Ohu scum are hiding in Hougen’s army!?”

You won’t live long enough to find out, bastard,” John spat. Growling, he shot forward, his fangs locking on Matsu’s throat. Fueled by anger, John crushed the Husky’s throat in his jaws. Matsu was dead before he could even process what was happening to him. Holding tightly onto Matsu’s body, John began using it as a club, of sorts, delivering blows to Hougen’s followers while being able to keep some distance. Hook, meanwhile, bit and clawed where he could, never staying still in one place long enough to be swarmed.

“Hrah!” a soldier shouted as he leapt at John’s torn flank. He bit at it, sending another wave of pain through the Shepherd’s body.

“Gah!” John yowled, dripping Matsu’s corpse. His neck was now exposed, and dogs leapt at it, using their combined weight to force John down again, this time, onto his back. Hook paused, glancing over at the general in alarm.

“Sir…!” The Labrador mix prepared to rush over and help, but was stopped by John’s fierce bark.

“Don’t come over here! They’ll swarm you, too, like the cowards they are! Keep your distance, damnit!”

Hook gritted his teeth as he could hear more wounds being torn into John’s body. Even as the Shepherd kicked and bit at his enemies, his blood was still being spilled. Doubts began entering Hook’s mind, even as he continued desperately to avoid the jaws of enemy dogs. Was this all for naught? Were they just delaying the inevitable? With each dog they killed, a new one took their place. John was down, and he...he couldn’t keep dodging forever…

“Gyah!” Hook suddenly cried, his paw sinking into a particularly deep pocket of snow. He stumbled, tumbling over himself before lying flat and in a daze. The dogs chasing him sneered. Luck was on their side once again. Together, they jumped, prepared to kill.

“DAD!”

John froze. He felt the dogs attacking him pause at the sudden shout. That voice…! Craning his neck as best as he could, he could see a familiar cyclone-like figure just above the battleground: the Retsu Genmu-Battōga. Hougen’s dogs cried in fear; none of them had ever seen such a technique. It sucked them in one by one, penetrating their bodies with several deep, penetrating wounds. Dead bodies rained from the sky, forcing the remaining soldiers to back off in fear. They weren’t safe, however, for soon, they were also attacked. The Ran Daryushin-Battōga slithered from dog to dog, ripping out throats left and right. The Geki Sentsūhi-Battōga smashed skulls and exploded hearts. John sat up, looking around in awe. It was just as he thought; Tomoe, Ken and Kagetora were here.

“Those attacks…” Hook said in awe, watching as most of the remaining soldiers were cut down in a matter of seconds. Only 5 or 6 of Hougen’s dogs remained, and after what they’d witnessed, it was suicide to continue fighting. With terrified yelps, the soldiers turned and ran away. Kagetora looked after them, his lips curled back into a cocky grin.

“Oi, oi!” he called. “Leavin’ already! We were just gettin’ started!” Ken. meanwhile, padded to Hook’s side, helping the male to his paws.

“You alright?” the Dane asked.

“Yeah, I am,” replied Hook. He glanced toward Tomoe and John. The younger bitch had landed, catching her breath. The run from the shed, combined with her technique, had taken a bit out of her. The blood of her enemies dripped from her maw; she was too tired to lick it away just yet. “That’s…?”

“Mmm,” Ken confirmed, nodding. “Tomoe, John’s daughter. She’s come all this way to rescue him.”

“Tomoe…” said John gently, gazing towards his daughter. The bitch turned to face him, her eyes turning soft. For eight months, she’d only been able to see her father in her dreams and memories. But there he was now, a bit worse for wear, but alive. She padded up to him, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing he’d vanish from her sight the second she tried to touch him. With a loving smile, John lowered his muzzle, licking Tomoe’s head. Immediately, the young bitch’s tail started to wag rapidly. Tomoe buried her head beneath John’s chin, nuzzling him.

“Dad…” Tomoe cooed. She could feel fresh tears stream down her cheeks. She looked up at the older male, smiling widely. “I missed you so much…”

“I missed you too, kiddo.” John nuzzled Tomoe back, unable to hold back a tear of his own. Despite his brash and cocky nature, he had his affectionate moments. The same could be said for Tomoe. Neither Ken, Kagetora, nor Hook dared to interrupt the long awaited reunion. “I’m sorry you had to come out here. We really should’ve come back sooner, but that Hougen bastard…”

“We’ll take care of that guy soon enough,” promised Tomoe, her brow furrowing in determination. “But right now, we need to go to Shuga, like Uncle Gin said.”

“You know about that? Ah, you must’ve met Hiro and Reika.”

“Mmm.” Tomoe nodded. “We have some shelter not far from here. There’s...not much of Ohu left, though.” John’s smile slipped a bit. Nearby, both Ken and Kagetora’s ears fell as they remembered Kaibutsu’s dreadful reign.

“...What happened?” asked John.

“Some experiment the humans created: Kaibutsu. The bastard took over Gajou six months ago and killed almost everyone. The fucker even took my ear.” Tomoe turned her head slightly to show off her wound. John stepped back. During his moment of joy, he hadn’t even realized that Tomoe had been injured. A second later, he was snarling.

“If that bastard’s still there,” he seethed. “I’ll rip him apart myself.”

“Don’t worry; that asshole’s dead. Everyone that was left helped take him out, including the older old guys.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s fine; that guy never got the chance to hurt her.” Tomoe paused, glancing over her shoulder back in the direction of Hougen’s base. “We shouldn’t stick around here anymore. We should head back to the shed. There’s so much more I’ve gotta tell you, Dad, but I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

“Mmm,” John nodded. He then looked around, catching the bodies of Lefty, Rossi and Tommy among the dead bodies. Tommy had quietly passed away during the battle due to his injuries. Frowning, John bowed his head and sighed. “There’s something we need to do, first…”

After Hiro’s temperature had been stabilized, everyone settled back down into their resting positions. It was then and only then the absence of Tomoe, Ken and Kagetora had been noticed. Jerome and Weed exited the shed, only seeing footprints leading towards the west.

“They had to have gone to find John,” Jerome grunted.

“Without the rest of us?” Weed spoke with an exasperated tone. “We could’ve helped…”

“Don’t forget; Tomoe isn’t like you, Weed.” The bridge of Jerome’s brow wrinkled as he mentioned the other Shepherd’s name. “She’s too rash for her own good and has a heart for battle. Ken and Kagetora are loyal to her; I’m not surprised they joined her.” He paused, his nose quivering as he picked up a scent on the wind. “Mmm. It seems like they’re coming back. They’re still a bit far away, but I can smell them.”

“You think they saved John?” asked Weed.

“Mmph...perhaps. I’ve seen all three of those dogs fight in battle. They’re all capable, especially Tomoe. My own feelings about her aside, I can’t imagine she’d come back without John.”

“I wish you two would get along…”

“I wish she’d act more like you.”

Weed didn’t respond. He wanted to say that Tomoe was her own person, even if he didn’t agree with everything she did or said. He wanted to say that he wasn’t anything special. Yet deep in his heart, he couldn’t help but agree with Jerome. He wasn’t sure why, but he just did.

Why couldn’t Tomoe be more like him?

[popcrone818]

Wicked Games Part 4

Another update. i am smashing this out! please leave me comments or like this story. i just want to know who likes what.

  I jumped onto the train before Four or Eric could say anything to the transfers. Soon I was surrounded by everyone else as the train shuddered before hitting full speed. I watched as my brother shot his arm out of the door and came back with Tris. I thought Eric cut her after he fight with Peter. I watched from afar as her friends, Will, Al and Christina walked up to her.  

“Hey,”

“What are you doing here?” she got bombarded with questions and I saw Eric make his way over to the group scowl on his face. I placed a hand on his shoulder gently pleading with my eyes to go easy on her. He shook me off and finished the walk over to them.

“I just figured that I had to make it.” She shrugged.

“Who let you out?” I heard Eric's gruff voice break the silence of the compartment.

“I did.” Tris seemed to be slightly nervous but she also did seem to show too much of it. I know how terrifying it can be to stand up to Eric. I watched ready to intervene if need be.

“You did?” he paused and looked around at everyone, stopping for slightly longer on me. “Okay. He pursed his lips and walked back over to me. He pulls a gun out of one of the black bags at our feet before turning to the initiates again.

“The game is simple, it’s just like capture the flag.” Four states as he too grabs a gun.

“Weapon of choice.” Eric held one up for everyone to see.

“You call that a gun?” Molly scoffs as she turns to peter who has his arms crossed and is look directly at me. Eric flips the gun down before shooting molly in the leg. With a grunt she falls on her ass like a sack of shit. I hide my giggle behind my hand but Eric still hears it and looks up at me. He reaches down to pull it out of her leg and holds it up for everyone to see.

“Neuro-stim dart, simulates the pain of a real gunshot wound, only last’s a couple of minutes. Two teams.” I zoned out from listening to him I already knew I was on his team, I was his co-captain so he couldn’t just ditch me.

“Okay my team time to jump!” Eric yelled over the roaring of the train. I looked around as Eric's team get ready to jump. I noticed they had split Myra and Edward up. But we also had peter, Molly and Al. I wasn’t too worried about any of them, although Peter does seem to be a little bit more intense than the rest of the transfers. Once we jumped off and regrouped, Eric turned to our group.

“Okay strategies. Amaya and I can’t help it’s all on you guys.” He folded his arms and watched as everyone talked over each other.

Peter had the bright idea to put the flag up high and Molly had the idea to have two people guarding the flag while the rest of us hide ready for an ambush. I crouched with my back against Eric's as we heard gunshots gong off and rushed footsteps pass us. Eric leapt up and used the knocked down wall as a barricade of sorts as I covered his back in case someone thought it would be funny to get him from behind like the cowards they are. I see the grass rustling in the not too far distance and shoot my gun where I saw it. Someone did have the audacity to go after Eric while he was busy defending our flag but also trying his hardest to get Tobias with one of the bullets. I heard a loud shout and I raced over to find the fallen initiate was Drew.

“You really thought it would be a wise move to sneak up on Eric like that?” I chuckled at him as he continued to scream in pain. I pulled the dart out of his shoulder and shot another two into him for good measure and walking away. As I got closer I could see that Eric had a sour look on his face and I understood why when I saw Tris and Christina running away with our flag between them. I looped my arm with his.

“Who’s over there?” Eric asked nodding his head over in the direction of Drew.

“Drew thought he would be shifty and sneak up on you while you were preoccupied, but I had your back.” He nodded at me and unlooped our arms sliding his around my shoulders pulling me close to him. He shot three times in the direction of Drew and I heard a scream in pain before Eric chuckled and walked off with me tucked under his arm. The rest of our team walked along behind us as we made our way back to the train.

“You going to do the zip line tonight?” Eric asked me once we were on the train back to the compound.

“Hmmm… don’t know, I was thinking about it but I was also thinking about grabbing a book and reading by my fire now that I won’t be able to get back to sleep.” He held his hand up to his chin as if he was thinking.

“The book and fire does sound much better than the freezing cold of the wind blowing through your hair. Although you and I both know how much you love zip lining.” I laughed along with him and jabbed him in the ribs as we readied to jump back on to the roof of the compound. Eric and I parted once we got to my apartment. I knew I wouldn’t sleep it was already 6 and I would have to be up at 7 for knife throwing for the last day of stage one. So I did just as I told Eric I would. I walked into my bathroom and removed my contacts before I changed into my soft comfy pyjama pants and fluffy socks. I picked up my favourite book and made myself comfy in my oversized armchair. Not even 5 minutes after I sat down there was a quiet knock on my door. I walked over to check it out. Eric stood there with a book in his hands and his glasses perched in the bridge of his nose. I silently let him in and we made ourselves comfy in front of my fire. It felt nice to do this with Eric. He really was just a big softy and still and Erudite at heart, as much as he would deny it until the day he died.

Once 7am rolled around I stood up to stretch out my limbs after forgetting to stretch before curling up on the chair. I heard bones pop in places I didn’t even know I had as I walked into my kitchen.

“Eric! Coffee?” I asked as I filled the kettle and chucked it on to boil.

“Please.” I head pages ruffle as he folded the corner of the page and put his book down and came over to me.

“So do you just always wear contacts or do you just need glasses for reading?” I asked him as I got out two mugs and started to divide out the coffee and sugar.

“Just reading. At a young age in Erudite they give you a pair of glasses. Usually by the time you get to your choosing ceremony you need them or your eyes have just adjusted to it by then.” He shrugged and plopped down on one of the bar stools I have at the counter. I watched as he carefully took his glasses off and put them to the side of the bench as the kettle boiled and I poured our mugs. I handed him ne and the milk and watched as he finished making his coffee. We didn’t need to be in the training room until at least 8:30 so it was nice to not be on a tight schedule and being able to spend a little bit of time with Eric. We enjoyed our coffee in silence as the morning sun rose and crept into the big window I had facing the east of the compound. Being on the top most floor of the compound had its perks. I knew Eric ha a window similar to mine being on the top floor also.

Eric and I met back up in the training room as the initiates started to practice with throwing knives. Beats me why they were only just starting on the last day or stage one, but whatever Tobias was running training so I wasn’t about to question him.

  Eric P.O.V

This morning had been nice, we didn’t need to say anything to each other but yet somehow I had felt closer to her in those couple of hours than I had since she had been here. She also makes some pretty amazing coffee but we won’t go into that or tell anyone about that either.

I watched over training with Amaya as the initiates threw knives at a target. The target wasn’t even moving but yet the big brute of an ex-Candor just couldn’t seem to land a single one. I can still remember the day he asked her out and my blood boiled.

“Well that was pathetic.” I said as I stood behind him my hands behind my back.

“It slipped.” He told me not meeting my eyes.

“Well go get it!” the stiff beside him jumped slightly at my voice. Good.

“What? While their throwing?” he asked standing up a little bit straighter but I could still see in his eyes he was afraid. Afraid of me and afraid of being factionless if he so much as uttered the wrong words to me.

“Are you afraid?” I sneered at him straightening my shoulders to intimidate him further. I noticed Amaya out of the corner of my eye help that Erudite transfer with the way he held his knife and that fuelled me even further.

“Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yeah.”

“Everybody stop!” I watched as his shoulders relaxed slightly and everyone stopped throwing. “Stand in front of the target. Four, give me a hand here.” I watched as Al walked over to the target and Four sighed before coming over as well. Just for good measure I threw the knife I held in my hand at the target before Al was able to reach it. He held his breath and stiffened up. Maybe he was supposed to be a stiff not a Dauntless.

“You’re going to stand there while he throws those knives and if I see you flinch your out.” My voice was quiet and I could tell everyone in the training room thought that was even worse than when I yelled. “One thing you will learn here is that orders are not optional.” By this time Four had gotten his knives ready and had stood at the line waiting for me to move out of the way for him. I gave Al one last threatening look before moving out of the way.

Tris ended up taking his place because she stood up to me and Al had already pushed my buttons enough for the rest of the year, so I made her stand in for him as Four threw knives at her. I expected him to cut her just not as much as he did but I just wanted someone to get cut.

I was beyond pissed off as I stomped out of the training room at lunch, after everything this morning Amaya still ended up helping Al work on his knife throwing skills, he stood far too close to her for my liking and I’m pretty sure I may have growled at him frightening a couple of initiates in the process. I met Amaya in the training room after lunch where she had been writing up the scoreboard for the first stage of initiation. They were finished stage one now and moving on to two in a week.

Visiting day was the next day and I knew my parents wouldn’t come see me, it was always I go see them or I would never see them. Visiting day had always been a thing even for the transfers from years ago. A part of me had hoped that Amaya and Four’s father wouldn’t grace us with his presence I was too pissed off not to do anything too rash to him. And I had promised Amaya last year that I wouldn’t do anything if he showed up. He hadn’t shown his face last year and I was hoping this year would be the same. I had never even seen him since mine and Four’s initiation 2 years ago. I had only met Marcus Eaton purely because of the fact that I was Dauntless leader and he was abnegations leader. Not much of a fucking leader if you ask me. Beating up his own children and then raping his only daughter. I shivered at the thought and I felt a small hand wrap its way around my bicep.

I turned to face Amaya and placed my rough hand on her cheek, I saw in her eyes all of the pain and the hurt she had gone through in her life, I knew that had never gone away because for as long as I had known her it had always been there. Most days she was able to hide it away but I still saw glimmers every now and then, I still saw the way she would flinch if a man got too close to her or even made to move his arm. I knew this women in front of me was brave, she had gone through a hell of a lot in her short life and she still stood here in front of me with determination written all over her face. This women right here was Dauntless material. And not just Dauntless material but a Dauntless leader. She deserved this and I knew I had to make sure that Max knew that she didn’t need any more training from me. She knew all of the basics and everything else was just a cake walk to her. I felt a sudden urge to kiss her but held back as I looked at the scoreboard.

1.       Edward

2.       Peter

3.       Will

4.       Christina

5.       Molly

6.       Tris

7.       Drew

8.       Al

9.       Myra

 The transfers all gathered around the scoreboard and us. We had jumped apart as we heard the doors open.

“Cuts will come tomorrow.” I yelled over the over excited initiates, which quietened them right down. “Get some sleep.”