#the five of swords is that sense of betrayal and feeling unsure if everything is right

[starswallowingsea]

8, 22, 49 eichi and tsumugi!

i got the nine of cups, five of swords, and the nine of swords (fucking AGAIN) so uhm. angst i guess.

disclaimer i havent read most ! era stories with them i kinda just wrote what came to mind from what I do know but if anything doesnt match with canon. yeah.

word count: 546

It was so easy for Tsumugi to get caught up in Eichi’s plans. Eichi was addicting, like a drug slowly sapping the life from Tsumugi, but he made him feel oh so good. 

Tsumugi wasn’t sure what exactly brought them together. They couldn’t have been more opposite. Eichi was charismatic and born into a rich family and Tsumugi hid in the background and grew up attending tupperware parties for his mother. Eichi was beautiful beyond words and Tsumugi was painfully average. 

Eichi should have been out of his reach and yet…Tsumugi found himself sitting besides Eichi in the hospital, discussing plans for their restructuring of Yumenosaki, song lyrics and melodies, and their futures. 

Eichi was desperately in love with Wataru and Tsumugi knew this. He could never compete for that attention, but he hoped that maybe just for a moment he might be able to take Eichi’s full attention. Just once was all he asked for. 

Days turned to weeks turned to months and Tsumugi stuck with Eichi through it all, pulling all-nighters at the hospital and at the school to make sure things ran as smoothly as they could. Keito had asked if he was okay, though Keito and his seven cans of red bull didn’t have much room to talk. 

It seemed that every step Tsumugi tried to take forward, to just hold Eichi’s hand in his own and feel his warmth, Eichi took two steps away, towards a different future. 

So when the day came and fine as they knew it had been disbanded, Tsumugi couldn’t say he was entirely shocked. It had been a long time coming. As soon as the five eccentrics had their social executions on the stage then fine would be no more. There would be no use for the unit to exist in the way it had. 

Eichi said some platitudes which Tsumugi accepted with a smile on his face, just letting the words move in one ear and out the other. 

And then Eichi grabbed his hand. 

Oh god, Eichi grabbed his hand and was he squeezing it? Why would he-- 

“Are you okay, Tsumugi?” he sounded concerned. 

How should he answer? He can’t be honest, can he? Yeah, I’m just trying not to freak out because I’ve been longing for you to notice me like this just once let me be the only thing you think about. I’m not okay actually. I’m so hopelessly in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself. 

You’re like a drug and I can’t bear to stop taking my daily dose of you.

“I’m fine, Eichi-kun. Don’t worry about it.” 

He smiled and Eichi squeezed his hand one more time before dropping it. 

“I’m glad, my little bluebird.” 

Tsumugi fought to keep the warmth from his cheeks at the modification of his nickname. 

“Y-yeah…” 

He didn’t want to go. He desperately wanted to stay, to take one last deep breath of Eichi before they parted ways. 

Sure, he’d still see the other boy at school on his good days, and there was nothing in particular stopping him from seeing him in the hospital on his bad days, but it wouldn’t be the same. 

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around I suppose. Take care, Tsumugi.” 

“Take care, Eichi-kun.” 

[pressedinthepages]

Chapter 2: Expectations

Summary: After 30 years of walking the path alone, your heart has hardened over, but it seems there are a couple of cracks.

Series Masterlist

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382063/chapters/59027686

Words: 1754

Warnings: not really any this time, little bit of sexism and swearing, but nothing extreme.

A/N: I know I’m a bit early with this one, but I’m so excited so I can’t wait XD This one’s a bit shorter, but I like where it ended so it’ll be a good setup for the next chapter :) enjoy! Also, the term 'fauntkin' is a medieval term of endearment, essentially meaning "young child."

The sun is high in the sky, a slight breeze stirring dust from the trail as you walk. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your armor as you approach the notice board. You’ve arrived in a sizeable town in Velen, almost as far east as Oxenfurt. The people here, you can tell, are well-fed and prosperous. Being this close to a big city tends to leave people with an extra bit of coin in their pockets, but it also tends to come with bigger problems. Sometimes it’s bigger, meaner contracts, or it’s stingy, uptight employers. Your leather skirt billows around your knees, and you are grateful for the lined trousers you wore underneath as the wind bit your nose. You keep the hood on your cloak up, not yet having a chance to figure out just how welcome you are here. 

1225. The year catches your eye from a slip of parchment on the board, glaring at you, taunting you behind a ruse of some poor sap looking for a lost ring. You think back, it’s been about thirty years since you left Kaer Morhen, and you’ve not been able to bring yourself to crawl back up those steps. You’d heard whispers among townsfolk about an attack, just a few years after you left on the Path. You had contemplated returning, feeling a wave of grief come over you as one of the last Wolves on the continent. 

But as you started making the trek towards the mountains, a sense of panic and dread building in your chest. That place had held you down, smothered you, taken everything that you had the potential to be and robbed it of you. It turned you into something not much more than the monsters you are paid to slay and almost killed you in the process. You often found yourself wishing that the damned place had actually finished the job and let you die in the Trials, let you slip from its grasp into the cold, dark earth.

Shaking the daydream away, you peer at the fluttering papers nailed to the board. Most were useless, people looking for misplaced trinkets or threatening their neighbors. However, there was one in the corner that drew your attention, mainly because of the big letters scrawled across the top: WITCHER NEEDED.

You scan the notice quickly, shoving it into your pack before briskly turning and striding towards the edge of town. The contract spoke of a “hoard of flying women, tits sagging in a most horrid manner.” The man who had posted the notice had directed the reader to come to his home, where he would tell them what they needed to know.

As you approach, you see a bearded man with two young children playing as he worked in a small garden. You cross into the yard, the children quieting with your arrival. You clear your throat, the man startling at the noise. He stands and turns to you, taking notice of the two swords on your back and the scar on your brow. 

“I’m here about the contract.” Your voice is even, decades of training and practice behind you to quell any emotion that may be conveyed in your tone. The man’s eyes quickly flick down and back up your body, seemingly confused by your existence. You’re used to it though, everyone is. His eyes settle back on the scar at your brow and it tingles, your hands fighting the urge to scratch at it.

Losing patience, you arch your brow and hold the parchment out to him. He glances down at it and clears his throat. 

“Well, miss, I’m not sure if this is something that you’d really be able to handle…” his voice trailing off as your golden eyes narrowed in disdain. 

“I can assure you,” you sneered, venom dripping from your tongue, “I am plenty capable of taking care of myself. Now, tell me more about what you saw.”

The man at least has the decency to flush, looking askance as he avoided your gaze. His name is Kasper, and as he weaves his story, you know exactly what the contract is asking. There is a dense forest at the base of the mountains where many people go to collect herbs and vegetables. But there is a new nest of “winged things, naked and smelling of rot,” and they attack anyone who ventures to the far edge of the forest. The man says there were about a dozen of them, all of them vicious. They scream and scratch, and they will steal any sort of jewelry or other shiny items with their victim. 

“Seems you’ve been burdened with a harpy nest,” and you can tell that the children are listening intently to every word. “I’d be willing to take care of this for you, but I would like to discuss payment.”

Kasper shifts, scratching the underside of his chin before sighing. “I’ve never seen a Lady Witcher before, but if you feel confident that you can do this…”

“I do, and I am no Lady. I am but a Witcher, one who is here and able to solve your problem.”

You discuss the payment, agreeing on a price that is a few more crowns than the notice had stated, and that you would receive payment upon providing proof of the job being finished. As you turn to leave, one of the children runs to your side. She can’t be more than five summers, and you are briefly reminded of your fever dream full of confusion and betrayal.

“Excuse me, Lady Witcher?” She tugs on the hem of your skirt just above your knee, pulling your attentions back to her. You feel the edge of your mouth turn up slightly, you’ve always been weak at the innocence of children. You stop and kneel, finding yourself at eye level with the little girl. Her younger brother is behind her, clasping onto the leg of his father and bashfully turning his head into it. The girl’s eyes are wide and full of life and joy, and you feel your heart clench for a moment. 

As you peer back at her with your bright eyes that burn with their intensity, you notice that you can’t smell fear. It’s a high, sour smell that permeates the air and follows you almost everywhere you go. But not here, not from this child. She only radiates comfort and trust, and grass. Your nose is especially sensitive to the smell of grass, twitching slightly with the effort to not sneeze onto the girl in front of you. 

“You gotta promise something,” the little girl says, swaying slightly as she speaks, already tired of staying still for too long.

You smile kindly, a movement that you’ve allowed yourself to relearn over the years. There’s not a lot behind it, but it’s better than the empty holes where your feelings used to be. “And what would you have me promise, fauntkin?”

“You gotta promise you’ll be careful, cause if you don’t who’s gonna take care of the scary bird ladies?” she exclaims indignantly. 

You blink in surprise, unsure of how to respond to that. You end up settling on “well, I’ve come back from every hunt I’ve gone on so far, so I have a pretty good feeling about this one.” 

She doesn’t seem convinced, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “And then what? What about when another monster comes here? Will you come back?”

“If you’d like for me to, I will gladly return,” you say, and before you can register what happens she throws her arms around your neck and you stiffen, unused to the blatant display of affection. But as she rests her head on your shoulder, you gently wrap an arm around her waist, returning the gesture as best as you can. Your legs are at an awkward angle and they begin to ache, but you wouldn’t move for all of the coin in the world. It’s been decades since you’ve felt such trust from another person, and you can’t let it go before it’s ready. It’s easy to imagine a life full of love like this, easy and warm.

The girl moves back, her mind wandering to far-off worlds with sunshine and happiness around every corner. You watch her go as you stand, your lungs feeling a bit too tight and your eyes watering just a bit. You turn and head towards the forest, feeling your heart harden back up with every step back into your life.

…

    The dwindling light from the sun casts rays through the leaves of the forest. They flash bright reds and yellows, precarious along the branches that dance on the breeze. The bright colors remind you of the approaching frost, and you decide that as soon as you complete this contract, you’ll move further south. The sooner you get there, the better, so that you can hopefully establish a presence in a town that would be willing to house you during the winter. 

You’re kneeling at a small stream that runs through a clearing in the heart of the forest. You’ve set up a small camp for the evening atop a hill behind you, and you followed the sound of trickling water in the hope that you may get (at least a little) clean. You’ve left your armor with your horse at the camp, leaving you in a light chemise and your trousers, your two swords still strung across your back. You rest your hands in the stream, the cool water cutting through your skin before embracing it, swirling and gliding through your fingers. You take a deep breath in, surrounding yourself with the tranquility of a quiet forest, smelling only the earth and the water and the animals that call this place their home.

The peace did not last long, however, as the wind carried the sound of light, bounding hoofbeats followed closely by heavy, thundering footfalls. You stand, scenting the air as you move. You’re upwind, and all you can gather from what smells you can catch is that they’re alive. No shit, you think to yourself, unsheathing your steel sword and swinging it around your wrist to grip it. The threats are far too close for you to be able to rush back to your camp, so you face the direction they are coming from head-on. You raise your sword across your chest to strike just as the first ‘living thing’ bursts through the thicket into the clearing.

[singledarkshade]

Time's Daughter

Part Five

She ran hearing them coming behind her wondering how she hadn’t known, wondering even more how the person she loved so much could betray her in this way.

The rushing of water from nearby made her pause. If she could reach the bridge then she had a chance. There should be a ship she could use to get to safety.

The sound of metal scraping against stone made her turn as her pursuer appeared behind her.

“Sister, dear,” Arivana said softly, her sword drawn, “You should have faced your fate back in the castle. Instead you will die here with no honour.”

“You are one to speak of honour,” she threw at her sister, “You murdered the woman we were supposed to protect for money.”

Arivana laughed, “You never could see the bigger picture. I wish you did because I wanted you to be by my side but your refusal to join us leaves me with no choice.”

Without warning Arivana attacked...

Gideon gasped awake unsure where she was for a moment.

“It’s okay,” a comforting voice came from behind her.

“Captain?” Gideon took a deep breath realising she was resting against his chest, she moved away shaking her head slightly to clear it.

He gave her a small smile, “You fell asleep. I’m guessing it’s been some time since you’ve done that.”

Gideon nodded, “I forgot what dreams were like.”

“Was it bad?” he asked gently, catching her hand his thumb gently stroking the back of hers.

Taking her hand back and standing to walk the small cell she shrugged, “Just a memory.”

“Gideon,” he frowned at her, “You know you can talk to me.”

Turning to look at her Captain who was watching her worriedly, Gideon gave him a slight smile, “I know,” assuring him despite the feeling in the pit of her stomach as she recalled what the last person she trusted completely had done.

“Gideon,” he said moving to her, “You said I can always trust you. You know you can always trust me too, don’t you?”

Looking up at him Gideon wanted to tell him she knew that but her dream, her memory was caught in her mind and that feeling of betrayal filled her.

Hurt appeared in his eyes when she didn’t confirm she knew she could trust him.

“Captain,” Gideon caught his arm when he turned away, “I’m sorry. It has been a long time since I dreamt or allowed myself those memories. It shook me more than I thought it would.”

“Who hurt you, Gideon?” he asked touching her cheek.

Before she could answer the door opened and Miranda stood there.

“Sorry to break up the little love fest you two have going,” Miranda smirked, “But it’s time to go. Mummy is waiting to see you again, Rip.”

  Rip walked out of the cell with Gideon at his side, he was trying to focus on rescuing Summer but his conversation with Gideon was stuck in his head. He couldn’t get the look of sadness in her eyes out of his mind and he wanted to know who put that there.

“I think we’ll separate you two for a while,” Miranda noted when they stepped into the Pirate’s ship, “Aldan, show Gideon to her...room.”

Rip felt Miranda press a gun to his ribs to stop him making any move to keep Gideon with him.

“Oh no,” she murmured to him, “You don’t get to keep your little toy this time.”

Rip ignored her walking when she motioned him forward, he couldn’t do anything until he found Summer. Gideon could take care of herself.

“Are you not going to talk with me?” Miranda taunted, “We used to talk for hours about everything.”

Rip turned to her, “I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Doing what, dear?”

He shook his head annoyed, “You know exactly what.”

Miranda gave a mock pout, “I thought you loved me.”

“I loved someone who never existed,” Rip retorted sharply, “You killed any lingering feelings I may have had.”

Miranda laughed amused, “Trust me, I’m sure I could get you hot under the collar if I wanted to.”

Rip stared at her, “What happened to you? What made you into this?”

“Summer asked me the same thing,” Miranda told him before shrugging, “Some of you were raised by a loving mother, in a safe warm place before you became Time Masters. I wasn’t.” Rip frowned.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, darling,” she continued, “I enjoyed every mission I took on for Druce and his cohorts. Pretending to be your wife, pretending to love you amused me a great deal.”

“Then you need a hobby,” Rip told her before he entered the cell and sat ignoring her.

                                  *********************************************

  Gideon sat on the floor her legs crossed, hands resting on her knees taking deep soothing breaths. She needed to calm her mind, to stop thinking about her past instead focus on what was happening here and now.

It wasn’t that easy as she was also worried about her Captain, Charlatan was enjoying taunting him about their marriage too much and Gideon feared what could happen especially now he’d tapped into his heritage.

“Should I come back once you’re finished?” the amused voice came from above her.

Gideon opened her eyes and looked up at the woman standing watching, arms folded as she leaned against the wall.

“What do you want?” Gideon asked standing to face Charlatan, “You know I will not play your games.”

Charlatan laughed, “The only reason you’re alive at the moment is because I now don’t have to waste too much energy controlling Rip. You’ve always been a weakness for him but it made no sense when all you were was a computer programme. Now it does.”

Gideon smiled slightly, “If that is what you think.”

“I really am looking forward to killing you,” Charlatan told her, “Watching him crumble at being helpless to stop me.”

“You truly have no idea what you are playing with,” Gideon replied darkly, “Nor the consequences. A Time Master’s connection to his AI is strong, our connection is deeper than you can possibly imagine especially now I am human once again. Now he knows who he is Captain Hunter is more dangerous than you can imagine especially if you harm me.”

The other woman shook her head, “Rip Hunter could never hurt me. He may threaten and bluster but in the end he can’t hurt someone he loves.”

“You are hanging a great deal on assuming that he still loves you,” Gideon replied coldly, “After everything you’ve done to him.”

Charlatan began to laugh, “You are actually in love with him. It must have killed you all those years watching him with me.”

Gideon kept a cool stare on the other woman for several moments before replying finally, “That was before he knew I could be human.”

  Miranda walked out of Gideon’s cell annoyed that the former AI hadn’t broken. It made no sense how the computer who controlled the Waverider now had a human body and there was something about the woman that worried Miranda but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Sitting in the small control room she checked on her three prisoners. They would be at the Vanishing Point soon and she could put her plan into action.

Summer hadn’t said a word when Miranda told her that Rip was now her prisoner, in fact she’d smiled slightly before looking the other way.

Rip was sitting staring at the wall, lost in thought in an expression Miranda recognised. He was worried. She watched him for a few moments, it was such a pity he was so... ethical otherwise he would have been a good partner to have.  Rip had always been brilliant and the reputation he had was one he truly deserved, it was one of the reasons Druce choose him for the operation. Unfortunately he was also someone who believed in being a good person and she knew he would never have joined her no matter how much he’d loved her.

Even if she gave Rip the chance to join her now, he wouldn’t and if he did agree then he would just be waiting to betray her.

It was such a shame.

Finally she looked back at Gideon. As she watched the woman meditating Miranda frowned remembering that she’d said she was human again.

Miranda mused on this for a while, there was something about Gideon that was bothering her, something she recognised but couldn’t quite place.

It wouldn’t matter soon because they’d both be dead soon.

                                  *********************************************

  The Vanishing Point.

Rip already had many reasons to hate this place and felt a shiver run down his spine as he was marched into it. Miranda’s lackey had bound his hands and currently had a gun shoved against his lower back to keep him moving. Relief filled him when Gideon was marched to his side, her hands bound the same way but she appeared to be unharmed. Understanding how he felt about this place Gideon rested her hands on his arm briefly. Passing the spot where Snart had sacrificed himself Rip sighed sadly. He could almost hear the man’s voice at his side making a snide remark. If he’d known then who he truly was Rip would had been the one to shut down the Occulus and Snart would still be alive.

Finally they reached the room the Occulus had been and saw Summer standing with Miranda who had the Season connected to a machine.

“What are you doing?” Rip demanded, feeling hands grab his arms to keep him back.

Miranda smirked at him, “Reopening the Occulus but this time I will control it.”

Summer turned to Rip and her eyes locked with his making him pause, when Miranda turned on the machine he struggled slightly but not enough to get away from the men holding him. The power came on and triumph covered Miranda’s face that her plan had come to fruition.

“Hold them,” she ordered her men, “I will kill them when I return.”

With an amused glance back at Rip she stepped into the light of the Occulus disappearing into time.

  Rip waited until Miranda was gone before he spun grabbing the man behind him and knocking him out. At his side Gideon easily did the same to the man holding a gun on her. Moving to him she tilted her head slightly allowing him to remove the blade they’d concealed in her hair, he quickly cut her bonds before she cut his. Rip took the blade from Gideon again and moved to Summer removing her bonds before hugging her tightly.

“Oh, my boy,” Summer whispered as she held him close, “I’m so sorry I never told you.”

Letting her go Rip gave a slight smile, “I understand but once this is finished you need to tell me everything.”

“I promise,” Summer squeezed his hand before turning to Gideon, “It is a pleasure to see you in the flesh once again.”

Gideon bowed to Summer, “And you, my lady.”

Rip raised an eyebrow at the formality but was distracted by a strange whisper from around him.

“You can feel it,” Summer said softly bringing Rip’s attention back to her, “Can’t you?”

He nodded softly, “I think I know where she’s going and I’m going after her.”

“Captain,” Gideon started but he cut her off.

“You’re not coming with me,” Rip told her, “I need you to get the rest of the team and bring them to help.”

Gideon frowned, “I am your protector. I should stay with you.”

Rip shook his head, “Not this time. You need to bring the team, I think I know someone else who can help me until you can join us.”

“Captain,” she began to argue but stopped when Summer placed a hand on her arm.

Rip caught her hand tugging her to him, “I need you to trust me, Gideon. The same as I trust you.”

Gideon looked up, her eyes wide before she nodded, “Of course I trust you, Captain.”

Placing his forehead against hers he squeezed her hand, “Then trust me now.”

Gideon closed her eyes and nodded.

“Summer should be able to take you to the Jumpship,” Rip pulled back from her, “Get it back to the Waverider, it has what I removed from the Time Drive to stop them following us. Jax will be able to repair the ship.”

Moving towards the Occulus Gideon caught his arm, “Wait, where are you going?”

Glancing at his mother Rip smiled slightly, “Summer will tell you once you’re back on the Waverider,” at Gideon’s annoyed look he shrugged, “So you don’t come after me in the Jumpship.”

“Be careful, Captain,” Gideon told him, “Charlatan will not hesitate to kill you, you have to remember not to give her the opportunity.”

Rip nodded, “I promise,” he said before hugging Gideon tightly whispering, “I’ll see you soon.”

Pulling away he stepped into the light of the Occulus and disappeared.

Part Six