#my heels were like BITING today and the pain would shoot through my calves up to my knees?? so that was cool lol

[catzgam3rz]

Heyyyy no stream tonight I almost had to leave work because my feet and legs hurt so bad so I’m gonna be resting for the night ;u;

Still on for doing the Gerudo Questline on Sunday with Jackie_Mae though!

[baronessblixen]

Nah that's fine :) take your time with it but I might as well say this just in case other people who also write would see it. Uh prompt would be Mulder giving Scully a piggyback ride because her little legs are tired, way tired and Mulder sees it so he gives her a piggyback ride (or bridal style whichever) also have a good day.

I finally wrote it! I apologize that it took me so long. Set around late season 5. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2021

Wc: 1018

Fictober Day 21

These Shoes Were (Not) Made For Walking

She shouldn't have let Ellen talk her into buying these heels. But for once she felt like Dana, not Scully, and she wanted shoes that were beautiful and not practical. Her friend had encouraged her like only old friends can; with a grin and a promise that these shoes would be worth their money.

Scully, happy to have Ellen back in her life, to be alive at all, nodded and bought them. That was her first mistake. The second was deciding to wear them to work this morning. What was she thinking? She's working with A-nice-trip-to-the-woods Mulder. Her poor new high heels are a lost cause in the muddy, slippery forest.

But they give their all; they're worth their money, try to carry her through. Her legs and feet are the ones that give in first. Pain shoots through her calves, making her wince. Mulder is a few steps ahead of her, struggling on the ground himself. If only he had warned her. If only she had brought an emergency pair of sneakers.

"Scully? Why are you stopping?" He turns around, looking more like a hiker than an FBI agent. She wants to throw something at him. Maybe a branch or some dirt. Or her shoes. Now there's an idea.

"I can't - why didn't you tell me we'd be going to the woods, Mulder?" He looks at her for what seems like the first time all day. He takes in her attire: at least she's wearing slacks instead of a skirt. Unlike him, she's all business, from head to toe. He mouths a little 'oh' and she sees embarrassment cross his face.

"I didn't think, I-"

"You couldn't wait. You didn't have the time to call me and tell me we would be out here."

"Fuck, Scully. Have you been wearing these heels all this time?"

"Oh, Mulder," she says with a soft laugh; only he would ask a question like that. She can't be mad at him. This is Mulder. The man who probably didn't even have to bring his hiking shoes to work today because he has them stored at the office.

"I'm sorry, Scully. I may have been too excited." He runs a hand through his already messy hair. He looks similar to the woodland creature he dragged them out here to find. Her anger dissipates and she smiles at him.

"I'm going to buy you hiking boots," he says, walking back to her. "Come on, get on my back."

"Excuse me?"

"You can't walk anymore," she opens her mouth to protest but Mulder gets on his knees in front of her. It's a good thing they're alone here cause it looks as if he were getting ready to propose.

"I'm going to give you a piggy ride. Hop on."

"No. Mulder, no. I can walk - look." She takes a few steps and it's obvious that each one is painful.

"I'm not going anywhere unless you let me carry you."

"This is ridiculous." Mulder nods, taking a sip from his water bottle before he offers it to Scully. She drinks, too, glaring at him. He can't be serious. Can he? She shouldn't even entertain the idea. It's ludicrous. But so is the thought of walking in these heels, on her legs.

"Okay," she says, trying it out. "But um, only until we're out of the woods."

Mulder bites his lip, obviously stopping himself from making a joke.

"Hop on."

It must have been at least 20 years since she's done this. Back when she was young, a child, running wild and carefree. She tries to channel Dana again, like she did when she bought these damn shoes, and puts her arms around Mulder's neck.

"Ready?" He asks as his arms go under her legs.

"Ready," she confirms. He gets up and she tightens her grip on him. Mulder huffs before he starts walking.

"Am I too heavy?" Scully asks, surprisingly comfortable on Mulder's back. It's warm from carrying the backpack that's now on her back.

"You weigh nothing, Scully. I could do this all day." His breathing betrays his words but Scully lets it slide. She put her head against his back, her nose nuzzling his neck.

"Um, Scully?"

"Hmm?" She asks, nuzzling him some more. He's so hot there and smells so good. She can't stop. She doesn't want to. This is her reward for walking in her heels all day. She probably has blisters. What if she can't get them clean again? Mulder owes her more than one pair of shoes.

"It tickles."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She stops nuzzling him, missing his skin against hers right away.

"Don't be. It felt nice but I'm scared I might let you fall."

"You wouldn't," she says quietly, knowing it for certain.

"No, I wouldn't," he replies and she's glad he can't see her face. It's easier to admit these things like this. They can pretend they didn't happen, or pretend they didn't hear. "Not if I can help it anyway. We're almost there."

"You can let me down now."

"No way. I'm carrying you to our car. It's the least I can do."

True to his word, he doesn't let her down until they reach the car. She slides down his back and smiles at him, her whole body warm. Thanks to him.

"Did you enjoy your ride, Ms. Scully?" He asks, trying to keep his face serious.

"It was nice."

"Nice? Ouch. So you won't use this mode of transportation again? How can I convince you to change your mind?"

"Hm, you mentioned hiking boots."

"You will get them."

"Then I might reconsider."

"Yes," Mulder says, doing a little victory dance.

"But now I want to get out of here," Scully says. "I want to take off these shoes."

"Your wish is my command."

"And dinner."

"Dinner it is. I could even carry you up to your apartment, Scully."

"Don't push your luck, Mulder."

But as he drives, and she takes off her shoes, she thinks about it, about him carrying her upstairs, maybe even bridal style. She can't help but smile.

[aphasene]

The Commander's Neice A Levi x reader fanfiction

Chapter Two

Visions of people blur past me in shoots. I get glimpses of their horrified faces, my chest rises ad falls at every shallow, shaky breath. Adrenaline courses through my veins as a thick layer of sweat covered the nape of my neck. I keep my breathing steady, I push harder and harder, dodging the grabs of awaiting titans. My calves burn, my breath forming clouds in the air. My shoes pound heavily across the ground causing mud to slash up my leg, the wind whips my hair back from my face. 

I skid on my heels to face a crushed house on my side. It was the Riddick household. I shudder at the thought of our neighbours being devoured by those creatures. Against my instincts screaming at me to run away, I push the huge beams of wood and roof tiles to see a young woman laying flat on her stomach, her lower half disappeared into the rubble.

“Mrs. Riddick?” I speak up in disbelief. “Is that you?”

The woman looks up, her horribly bruised face twisted in an attempt of a smile. “(Y/N).” She gasps, spitting out a clot of blood.

My fingers curl underneath the planks and boards and I heave to lift them.

“(Y/N), I can’t get out, so please save my daughter.” She gasps in pain. “Get her to the ship.”

A young girl, no older than me stumbles to my side, she rubs her eye. She’s not as scratched up as her mother, but she has a few face wounds. I Had only spoken to her a few times, from visiting the family with my father, I think her name was Suzie.

Suzie looks up at me as if I’m her saviour, she looks back to her to her mother. “What about-?”

“There’s no time.” I reply, “we need to go and find the ship, there’s not a moment to lose” As much as it pained me to see her leave her mother behind after I’d witnessed my own Father being devoured.

“(Y/N)!”

I whip around to see Armin standing at the end of the clearing with what looked to be his grandfather. 

“Armin!” Never before had I been so happy to see another human being in my life. 

“What in the world are you doing here!? Aren’t you supposed to be evacuating?”

Oh yeah. 

“Come on Suzie, we have to go now.” I say ushering the girl away. I grab her hand and rush to catch up to them.

“So, what were you doing there?” Armin asks, whilst we run down the street.

“I was saving this little girl.” I gesture to her.

“Oh, what’s your name?” Armin asks.

“…Suzie.” Suzie mumbles just loud enough for me and him to hear.

“Where’s your dad?” He asks, when he realises what he’s said, his eye widen and panic. “Oh my god, (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head, “It’s okay, we just need to get to the ship as soon as possible, god knows how much space there could be left.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Well, I’m definitely not okay, my dad died. But he did give me this.” I hold up the letter.

“A letter?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s really important.”

***

I link arms with Armin and Suzie while he links with his grandfather’s as we fight slowly from the packed deck to the gang plank.

“We need to get on that ship.” Armin’s grandfather.

“Everyone needs to get on that ship.” The guard glares at us. “Wait your turn.”

“Please, there are children!”

The guard sighs, taking one last look at us before sighing and stepping aside, letting us on the ship.

We find a small space on a bench near the middle for us to squeeze onto. I place Suzie on my lap. We watch as those on the deck scowl up at us safely on board, then I spot them!

Mikasa and Eren step on to the ship, staying firmly beside another guard, the step onto the ship.

“Hey Eren! Mikasa!” Armin bellows, waving the capture their attention.

There was something a little off about them, Eren wasn’t his usual happy self, Mikasa seemed to have more of a darkened expression than usual.

“Armin, I think we need to leave them be for a while, they look like they’ve been through hell and back.”

I watch as they find a seat, I turn to Armin who twiddles his thumbs awkwardly.

“What’s going to happen to our homes?” He trembles.

“My best guess is that its going to be completely obliterated and we’re going to be homeless for the rest of our lives.” I shrug.

“Oh.” Armin looks up at me with his eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“That sounded less harsh in my head.” I rub the back of my neck. “to be honest I’m not too sure, myself. At least everyone’s alive.”

“Well, almost everyone.”

“Armin!”

“Sorry.” Armin holds his hands up in surrender.

***

“I told you honey.” The guard looks at me with narrow eyes. “We can’t give rations out freely, there’s too many people. And it says here, you’ve already had yours.”

I huff. There was no way I was going back to my friends without out that wedge of cheese, and if he wasn’t going to give it to me nicely, I was going to have to take it.

“I wasn’t trying to take it.” I say as innocently as possible, “I just wanted to talk.”

“I am a little busy.” The guard looks to his clipboard.

“It’s just.” I look to my feet. “I watched my dad get eaten by a titan and you kind of remind me of him.” I sniffle.

I watch as the guard looks at me with sympathy. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just sometimes I think of him and I-.” I collect every little bit of sadness I can muster and begin to cry; it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be and of course I was still in mourning but, what was a little manipulating for the fat bastards who hog all the food.

The guard wraps his arms around me, squeezing me in a warm embrace. He smells of sweat and alcohol. Holding my nose, I slowly reach into his pocket and retrieve the piece of cheese and hide it in my jacket.

“I think I’ll be okay now.” I say whipping a tear from my eye.

“Okay Honey, stay safe.”

I turn on my heels and skip down the road. What a buffoon. I had pickpocketed a few times in my life, not nearly enough to be seen and a ‘pickpocketer’ as such. My family was too well for that, even after we moved from Sina. Thought, I had a fair idea on how to do it.

“Stop thief!"

Oh shit!

Just my luck, of course someone would catch me. But I don’t go down without a fight. So, I run, pushing past the many people that crowd the centre.

“Catch her!” the once sympathetic and kind hearted Garrison guard had the look of betrayal on his wrinkled face.

The crowd looks at him in utter confusion, as if a small innocent girl could ever be seen doing something like that. I have bright (E/C) eyes, there aren’t many who can resist it.

Despite everything, I chuckle at the turn of events. I had pickpocketed so many times in my life, yet this was the first time I had been caught. It was difficult to hide from the guards at a place like this, I don’t know wall Maria as well, but it looks similar. 

I dart into a building with an open door.

“Oh!?” 

I look up to see a woman stand beside a bar, she wipes a glass whilst the others at the bar stare at me as if they’d never seen a child before.

I press my finger to my lips in panic, urging the barmaid to keep quiet. I crawl behind the bar, hiding under one of the shelves. I hear the a few sets of footprints burst through.

“Excuse me ma’am.” I hear the Garrison guard say gruffly, “but have you seen a young girl, around ten years old?”

“No.” The barmaid drags out the ‘N’. “Why?”

“She’s a thief. She stole some rations; we’re trying to find her.”

This is the end for me.

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen her. But I’ll be sure to let you know when I do.”

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

“Thank you for your cooperation ma’am, we’ll let you get on with your day.”

As soon as I’m sure the soldiers are gone, I crawl out from my hiding spot, a forlorn look spread across my face. I look at the barmaid who still looked rather confused. “Could you please tell me what the hell that was?” 

I solemnly grab the piece of cheese and show it to her.

“Did you steal some of the rations?” She places a hand on her hip.

I nod my head slowly. “It was only because my friends and I are so hungry.”

“Oh, I get it! Are you a refugee?”

I nod.

The woman kneels down so that she’s on my level. “Listen, I get that it’s tricky times, but the rations are shared out equally to all of us. Taking more than you already need, isn’t fair on the rest of us. I know you’re hungry but so are the rest of us.” When she notices my ‘puppy dog’ eyes, she sighs. “You’d better get a move on, before they see you again.”

“Thank you.” I say quietly, before slipping out of the bar.

***

I run down the street, I know at the end there’s a barn that the Mikasa, Armin, Eren and I hide out in, and if today was how I’m going to be living my life, we’ll be staying there for a while.

Not that I mind, the streets are chaotic since the attack a few days ago, it was easier to pickpocket, but if I was going to spending the rest of my life like this; I’d rather have gone with my dad.

But I know that there’s a reason I’m here and for whatever reason my father wanted me to go on. Truly, mother gave me this pendant. I don’t quite know why but I suppose I should keep going, whatever ‘keep going’ meant.

So, I stumble to a nearby field, it looked to be an abandoned farm, possibly a few years ago. The broken-down houses littered the entire space.

I scramble to a nearby barn, it’s decaying exterior made it look like hit hadn’t been used for centuries, I heave open the burned brown door. The stench of old hay and animal piss fills my nose and pinches the back of my brain.

“Hey guys, I bought it.” I say holding up our precious portion of food.

“You have it!” Eren cheers. “You were gone for a while, we thought you may have been caught.”

“Something like that.” I say rubbing the back of my head. “But it’s fine. I’m still alive and in one piece. I just may have to stay here for the time being.” I break the wedge off into chunks, handing them around the group.

“(Y/N).” Armin says, taking a bite of his cheese.

“Yeah?”

“Did you read the letter your father gave you?”

I had almost forgotten, after everything that had happened, I reach into my pocket and pick out my slightly creased letter.

“Letter?” Mikasa enquires.

“Oh yeah.” I sigh. “Father gave me this before he was devoured. No, I haven’t read it yet. I’ve been too busy stealing food from the soldiers for you.”

“Do you think you should?” Armin asks. “I mean it is the last thing your father gave you. it could be important.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I look at the letter, the words ‘To (Y/N)’ scribbled in his usual scruffy writing. I hook my thumb under the flap of the envelope and tear the paper and unfold the letter.

Dear (Y/N).

If you’re reading this, the chances are I’m already dead. Please don’t be too upset, I come with a mission.

I need you to join the Survey Corps for me. You will meet an old relative of yours: your mother’s brother. He has the key to your pendant. Once you unlock it, you will find the secret to controlling your abilities, this may be our last chance to saving humanity.

Good luck

From your loving father.

I stare at the letter for what seemed like an eternity until Mikasa taps me on the shoulder and brings me out of my thoughts.

“(Y/N)? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m joining the scouts.”

Requests are open!

[ohkvothe]

“What was the point of that? All you did was embarrass yourself.”

Jean is pacing, the heels of his boots hitting the floor in a hasty and distracting rhythm, and I roll my head to the side to squint at him. But before I can snap back I see the lines of worry on his forehead, his clenched fists, and I let it drop with a sigh.

“That bad?”

“You got your ass handed to you, Ecy. Royally. I don’t think he even broke a sweat.”

“Now that’s just insulting.” I wince as I straighten up from the low sofa, hand instinctively rising to my forehead. Nothing’s permanently damaged – Lex would make sure of that – but everything hurts like hell.

“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut for once?” Jean sounds exasperated as he turns back to me, and I force my split lips into a grin that just enrages him further. “I’m serious. There’s enough ways to get yourself killed here. Don’t need to hurry it along.”

“Watch it, Reynolds, you almost sound as if you care.”

He huffs at that, but offers me a hand to pull me up nonetheless. His dark eyes are shaded by auburn locks, too long to be inside regulations, but he doesn’t seem to care. He wears the same thing I do, soft shirt and pants, both the dark grey of wet stone, and leather boots crafted to fit perfectly. A blood-red cloth is slung around his upper arm, marking his first Kill. I can barely stop myself from glancing sideways at my own colourless uniform. Jean’s been here longer than I have been, true, but still…

“So, why’d you do it?”

He’s taller than me, by almost a foot, and I have to hurry to follow him through the room, careful not to let the slightest limp show, biting my lip and tasting blood again. He won’t understand, and for a moment I contemplate lying. But then I can’t bring myself to do it, not to the one person in here I actually trust.

“He insulted her”, I mumble, gaze on the floor’s dirty stones. “Jenna.”

“By the goddess, Ecy.” He turns and stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “You have to let it go.”

“I can’t”, I give back through gritted teeth, his hand pushing against one of the larger bruises, but damn if I’m backing away. “She was my sister, for Aya’s sake.”

“Yes”, he replies, still not letting go, and I’m fighting the tears burning their way towards my eyes. “She was. And now she isn’t anymore, and you picking fights you can’t win on her behalf won’t bring her back.”

His shove almost makes me tumble into the wall, and I grit my teeth before I catch up with him again. And I am so close to telling him about the rage inside me, about the way the fights ease it away, how my aching body allows me to sleep at night. Because it may be my sister who is dead, but it’s me they were trying to hurt.

And they did.

By Aya, they did.

The grey stone turns to black as we cross into the training area. Vast rooms open up towards the sky, and soon I can hear the noise of pounding fists and bodies hitting the ground. I followed Jean without question, but now I am slowing.

“Where are we going?”

He raises an eyebrow, as he stops, half-turning. Pity and a heavy wave of I-told-you-so are fighting in is voice.

“You think this morning’s bravado saved you from the Blood Pit?”

They can’t mean it. I can’t fight like this, not with my legs still burning and every inch of my upper body aching. Suddenly I understand Jean’s anxiety. I swallow rising fear and force a mask of calm over my face. This can’t get any worse. I can’t do this, but I have to.

“I’ll do my best to shield you”, Jean promises silently, already moving again, and the words burn through my heart.

“You can’t”, I protest, just as quiet, moving until we are shoulder to shoulder and taking hold of his wrist. “I mean it, Jean. If they find out…”

“They won’t.” His grin is thin, but his eyes are sparkling. “Trust me.”

And I do, so I let go and let him step into the ring first.

Brick walls rise high into the sky, casting their shadows on the sawdust floor, where five other recruits are already warming up. They, too, are wearing silvery grey, and some of the uniforms are splashed with colour. The deep purple of a Poison Kill, pale grey of Strangling, and a couple of blood-red Blade Kill badges. My arms are the only bare ones, and I swallow as I look up to the assassin standing at the side of the circle, watching.

He’s wearing black, the fabric of his clothes rippling with every movement as if dissolving in the breeze. His face is masked and hooded, but I swear he is looking right at me when I step into the ring, carefully avoiding Jean’s eyes.  

Rank means nothing in the service of Aya, the goddess of assassins and murderers, but still some of the eyes in front of me shine with malice when they see me. I was royalty once, third daughter of the brother of the emperor, and apparently too much trouble to be worth it. He gave me into the service of the goddess shortly before my twentieth birthday, when I would have been old enough to inherit his title. I never wanted to, and I was happy to join the black clad ranks of Aya’s assassins, but some of the thieves and murderers in front of me don’t take kindly to the aristocracy in their midst. I have never talked about it, of course, changing my name and cutting my hair as soon as the doors closed behind me, but the pale gold of my eyes is too recognisable, and even cutting it short didn’t disguise the colour of my hair. Black, so deep it looks almost purple, now falling into my eyes if I don’t keep it back with a tie.

No weapons are allowed in the weekly fights the recruits are forced into. Seven is a holy number in the house of Aya, but only six will leave this room alive. Only the strongest are accepted into Aya’s ranks, and today it is very clear that I am not one of them. My eyes wander over the opponents I have to fight, searching for weaknesses, but I don’t find any. Most of the other recruits are taller than me, some even taller than Jean, broad shouldered and prepared. I know some of them by sight, but none of their names. There are too many of us to get to know all of them, and the assassins of Aya don’t encourage friendships between the recruits.

Even at my full strength this would have been a hard fight, and already exhausted from another beating it may just prove to be impossible. But instead of despairing I flex my feet, roll my shoulders and pretend the movement is not shooting arrows of pain through my body.

I just have to survive until the first kill. This is not about glory today, about gaining a badge or proving myself in front of the silent assassin still watching us from the side lines. I don’t have the luxury to be impressive. I have to be smart and quick, to slip the tightening noose from my neck.

Like a shadow, the black-clad assassin moves to the door and shuts it with a deafening clang. The lock klicks as he turns the key, and now all that surrounds us are silence and bare walls.

We will not leave this room again until one of us is dead.

The light-haired girl in front of me is baring her teeth at me, murder in her eyes, and my heart is beating faster already. Jean is a steadying presence on my left, his breath soft in my ear, but I can’t see how he is going to pull me out of this one. Not when five strangers are dead-set on laying their hands on me.

Slowly, all of us are stilling, until the silence descends almost deafeningly. We are standing in a wide circle, limbs loose, and to an outsider we might seem relaxed. But I can see the tension in every single person in the room, in the way a muscle twitches just above the jaw of the boy next to me, the slight tremor in the light-haired girl’s leg, as if she’s ready to pounce. I’m trying to find my centre, concentrating on what I have learned in the last weeks, drawing my thoughts back into a small corner of my mind and forgetting everything but the fight.

And then the signal comes. High above our heads, the bell tower chimes, low and deep, the noise vibrating through my skull and shaking my very insides.

Before the noise dies away the pit erupts in movement.

Two of the recruits are coming straight for me, fast as vipers. Another one is on Jean in a heartbeat, and the remaining two are on the ground, fists flying, before I can blink. The girl attacking me from the front is aiming a kick at my stomach, but before she can make contact I am moving, ducking underneath her arms and clearing her attack in a low roll. I am on my feet again in an instant, limbs protesting, and before they can turn around I am backing off again.

They are not happy. The girl hisses at me, and the tall, black-haired boy’s face is death. This is not how the fight is supposed to go. Cowardice might as well be a deadly sin in Aya’s temple, but it is the only thing that will keep me alive right now. Again and again, I am dodging their attacks, moving around the pit under the ever-watching eyes of the assassin. I cannot keep this up forever – already my breath is hot and rasping in my throat, my calves on fire – but I don’t have to. Just until Jean can make his kill.

I catch glances of the other fights from the corner of my eye. The two boys on the floor are still moving, blood on both faces. Jean is holding his own, but his opponent is fast and strong, and will not go down easy.

My momentary distraction is punished immediately, as I notice the girl’s fist too late to duck out of the way. Her knuckles hit my cheekbone and the only thing I can do to keep the bones from breaking is follow the movement of the punch, throwing myself to the side, hitting the sawdust with my bruised shoulder and rolling twice before jumping back onto my feet.

The unexpected move has put some distance between me and my attackers, and I take a deep breath as I watch them warily as they approach. But they are slow, and I am beginning to wonder why, before I feel large hands around my upper arms, bending them painfully behind my back.

I scream, enraged. Turning my head, I can make out the blood-splattered face of one of the boys who were fighting on the ground. His nose seems broken, but he smiles down at me through bloody teeth. Behind him, his opponent is lying on the floor, unmoving but apparently still alive. Fury washes over me in waves of fire and ice. This is against the unspoken rules – he could have made the kill, but he didn’t. Recruits are also not supposed to gang up against each other; he should have joined Jean’s fight, not mine. But I bite my tongue. Words will not help me here, and for once in my life I am listening to Jean and stay quiet. Instead, I am struggling to free myself from his grip, even as the other two recruits are crossing the distance. But he is at least a head taller than I am, and my muscles are exhausted from ducking and evading.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you?” The girl’s eyes are fire, and her fist hits my mouth before I have time to reply. On the other side of the ring, Jean’s eyes meet mine, shining with worry, but he’s too caught up in his own fight to help me with mine.

The girl is rubbing her knuckles, smile still on her lips. The boy next to her is silent, but his eyes are dangerous as he lets them wander over me. I feel tiny between them, as they are towering over me and stepping closer.

“So it’s not true”, the girl sneers, dipping a finger into the blood that is now flowing freely from my lips, “your blood is not actually golden.”

I want to throw an angry reply into her face, so badly I can feel the words scratching in my throat, but I concentrate on regaining my breath. Stay calm, I tell myself, you have to be smart.

The boy who’s holding my arms is chuckling now, a low, rumbling noise that is vibrating against my back, and it sends shivers down my spine.

“Are you finished, Yana?”

“Not quite.” Her fists hit my stomach, twice in rapid succession, and the sudden pain is more than I can bear. I would have thrown up right onto her shoes if I could have just drawn a breath, but instead I am left gasping, hanging in the boy’s grip. And in that moment I feel only hatred. They don’t have to do this. They could just kill me and be done with it.

Yana takes a step back, grinning. “She’s all yours.”

As painful as this is going to be – they are helping me. Every second, Jean is closer to his kill. I just have to stay alive until he’s done.

I can do that.

The black haired boy is up in my face now, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Because damn if I’m going to show them that I am afraid. He’s beautiful, there’s no doubt about it, but there’s cruelty hidden in his sharp cheekbones and deep-black eyes, and three coloured scraps of cloth are wound around his forearm. Blade, Hands and a sickening, ashy grey that stands for Teeth. But I am nothing if not good at pretending, so I smile through the terror raging in my heart and raise my eyebrow.

“Too scared to fight like a man?”

He doesn’t take the bait. Instead he’s bringing his face very close to mine, until I can feel his breath on my cheek. I don’t give him the satisfaction of backing away, but I’m afraid the boy behind me can feel the frantic beating of my heart.

“I’ve always wondered”, he says quietly, eyes gleaming almost madly, “what it must be like to kiss royalty.”

And moments later his lips are on mine, hard enough to bruise, and suddenly blood is flooding my mouth. I am too shocked to react at first, but then I bite down. Hard.

He flinches back, lips deep red, but he is laughing hoarsely while I can only fume, motionless. How dare he? How dare he?

Behind him, Jean’s attacks have become more frantic. He is struggling to find an opening, to end this fight, but I can see that he is getting tired, too. For the first time, I am not sure I can rely on him to win this for me anymore.

Thoughts racing, I am searching for a way out of this, but at that moment a deep, gravelly voice speaks next to my ear. “But why stop there, Zenik?”

The black haired boy understands before I do, and his eyebrows rise by a fraction, the fire back in his eyes. The girl, however, looks unsure. Her gaze flickers between me and the boy, hands clutching her forearms, as if she doesn’t want to be a part of this. And for a moment, I swear she is glancing at the assassin, still black and silent against the wall.

“Are you sure?”, she asks quietly, but it is only when the boy behind me kicks my feet apart that I understand what they are talking about.

“No!” I’m struggling against the grip again, eyes wide, my mask slipping, because they wouldn’t, they wouldn’t! There are no rules in the Blood Pit, but surely…

In that moment, Jean is stumbling. He evades his opponent’s feet by rolling out of the way, but he is hard-pressed now, trying to regain his advantage. Not fast enough. Not fast enough at all.

“Is that a command, princess?”, Zenik snarls, mocking the title, moving closer again and mouth twitching in a crooked smile. “Must be hard, not to have people listen to you anymore.”

No one is going to save me from this. No one is coming, and the only person that can rescue me is myself.

So I spit blood at his face and grit my teeth, because this is going to hurt.

Every muscles tensing up, my feet leave the ground as I pull them up, my entire weight now carried by the two hands around my arms. I am small and narrow, and the boy behind me holds me up without a problem, a quiet, surprised noise leaving him. My shoulders scream in agony, and as fast as I can I dip my head and kick back, hard.

My heavy heels collide with his body, and his grip loosens enough to let me slip away. I land in a crouch, ducking away from outstretched hands, then my eyes fall upon the motionless body on the other side of the arena.

Before Zenik or Yana can react, I am sprinting, the soles of my boots hitting the sawdust, feet almost stumbling over each other. But still, I am fast, and I have surprised them. I hit the ground on my knees next to the unconscious body, not hesitating before putting both hands around his jaw and twisting.

His neck breaks with a sharp crack that echoes through the arena, and when I spin around I see Zenik and Yana, frozen only steps away, eyes wide. On the other side of the pit Jean stumbles to the ground as his opponent releases his grip. The boy who held me is still twisting on the sawdust.

But my eyes are drawn in by the assassin, who has left his place next to the door and is approaching with steps smooth as water. I struggle to my feet before he reaches me, a sickening feeling in my stomach. This kill scraped against everything an assassin is supposed to be, and even though there are no rules, I am sure that my behaviour will not stay unpunished.

The man’s face is still hidden beneath his mask and hood, and I can’t guess his feelings as he’s reaching one hand into the folds of his cloak.

I am expecting everything.

A blade. Poison. A letter of expulsion from the temple.

What I am not expecting is a white piece of cloth, as long as my forearm. White, the cleanest colour. The colour of a Hand Kill.

I can hear Zenik release a hard breath, but the others remain silent as the assassin ties the cloth around my upper arm, pressing into bruises. But it is a welcome pain, and I stand straighter as the man steps back. Because yes, I once was a princess. I am small and weak, and quick to anger. But I am a servant of Aya now, and I am going to find out who of my fellow assassins has killed my sister.

I will be quiet, and fast, and smart.

And in the end, I will avenge her.

I can’t see his face, but I swear the assassin is smiling.