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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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Blood and Rain (Good Omens)

@whumptober2020 - Using Prompt 9 “For the Greater Good” and Prompt 30 “Now Where Did That Come From.” CW for injuries and cliffhanger ending.

The Bentley careened off the road into a ditch, narrowly avoiding the blast of lightning that grounded itself on the asphalt.

Aziraphale and Crowley both summoned as many miracles as they could in the three seconds before the front of the vintage car hit the tree. The windscreen shattered - branches speared in at driver and passenger. Crowley’s forehead hit the steering wheel, but though the impact rattled him, he’d managed to prevent any damage to his corporation.

“Are you--” Crowley started, but was cut off by a crash of thunder. Not from the bolt that had almost hit them, but from the next, and the next.

“They aren’t giving up,” Aziraphale called, as flashes of blue-white light crept closer and closer. “We’ll have to run.”

“Run?” Crowley glanced behind them. He tried to keep his tone calm, but behind his glasses his eyes were wide and serpentine. “You think we’ll be safer running through a field than in a car?”

“Do you believe this is a mundane storm?” Hailstones began to pound the roof of the car, shaking it. One left a dent so deep they could see it from the inside.

“I was...really hoping,” Crowley grumbled, even as he threw open the door and scrambled out. Despite the sting of the hail and rain, he paused for a quick glance at the front end of the Bentley - the tree had dented the front, but not crumpled it. The engine was probably intact. He lay a hand on the battered roof and whispered, “We’ll come back for you,” before pushing through the bushes and into the field beyond.

Rain and cold sliced his skin as he raced through the knee-high grass, catching up to Aziraphale. Already the angel was puffing and struggling, right hand pressed to his side.

“We need...someplace to hide!” Aziraphale shouted over the rising storm, wind catching his words and tearing them away.

“Where?” Crowley took the angel’s left hand, pulling him onward. “A church?”

“Probably not.” Aziraphale’s voice was lost in the next lightning strike, a blinding explosion far too close for comfort, showering them with mud and shattered rock. At least the hail seemed to have died. Crowley tugged harder, trying to speed Aziraphale up. “Feels more...like my side...than yours…” the angel gasped.

“Not your side,” Crowley snarled. “We have our own side.”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

Crowley turned back in time to see the weak smile - but he also saw how pale Aziraphale’s face was, and the dark line above his brow, and the blood dripping just past his eye.

“Aziraphale!” He skidded to a halt in the mud, so abruptly Aziraphale bumped into him with a muffled gasp. “What - your head!”

Blinking in confusion, Aziraphale dropped Crowley’s hand to swipe at his face, looking at the mix of blood and rain on his fingers. “Oh...oh...the car…”

“Didn’t you protect yourself, you idiot?” Crowley pressed numb fingers to the wound, trying to heal it.

“Well...yes.” Aziraphale gulped and struggled to catch his breath. “Tried to...keep your car...intact at the same time. But...it would appear I...I failed at both.”

Lighting flashed again, searing into the ground ahead of them, then behind. The rain doubled, and hailstones fell once more. One struck the back of Crowley’s hand, another caught Aziraphale on the side of the head.

With a wordless shout, Crowley snapped out his wings, wrapping them both in a feathery embrace, shielding them from the storm. “We have to keep going, Aziraphale,” he mumbled, pulling his angel close.

“Mmmm,” Aziraphale started, the sound lost in the wind and thunder. His left hand clutched at Crowley. “No, my dear. You have to keep going.” Crowley started to growl an objection, but Aziraphale cut him off with a hand to his chest. “Listen, we don’t have much time. You were always better at running and hiding. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quickly, not giving Crowley time to interject, “but I’ll only slow you down. I’ll hold them off, you find a place to hide. Burrow, if you can. That should help.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Crowley snarled. He crushed Aziraphale to his chest, wings tight around them. Through the feathers, they could see the flashes of lightning, drawing closer.

Aziraphale grunted in frustration. “Don’t be absurd. I’m the better fighter, Crowley. I’ll handle them, then I’ll come find you.”

“But--”

“There’s no time!” He shoved Crowley, a one-handed push strong enough to send him stumbling back. “Run! Just run!”

Another bolt of lightning and the air filled with the burnt-match scent of sulfur. Power from the sky and the smell of the pits. Strange how Heaven and Hell could be so utterly indistinguishable.

Crowley surged forward, grabbed Aziraphale by the lapels, and kissed him. It was rushed, fumbling, and tasted of blood and rain. The angel had probably bit his lip in the accident. One soft hand pressed against the small of his back, pulling him closer.

When Crowley released him, Aziraphale smiled and patted his arm. “I’ll see you soon, my love. Now, please. Go.”

And though it hurt more than anything he’d ever done, Crowley turned and ran, into the storm and hail and wind. He tucked his wings away and shifted forms - as a serpent he was faster than any human - winding his way through the jungle of grass and hailstones as large as his skull. He could no longer hear the lightning, but he could see it, and feel it, a gut-twisting surge through his stomach as the ground rolled and swelled like an ocean.

In a little more than a minute, he reached the far side of the field. Rearing up, head above the grass, Crowley could see a ditch, a hedgerow, probably some very upset sheep on the other side, looking for shelter. Not ideal, but he was running out of residual heat from his time in human form. A few more minutes and he would succumb to the torpor, but if he could find a burrow first…

Crowley slid along the ditch, looping around more hailstones and torn-off twigs. His back and sides already felt bruised from the icy assault. He flicked his tongue, but of course all he could taste was rain, and mud, and the lingering flavor of Aziraphale’s blood.

He flicked his tongue again.

It didn’t taste right, the blood, too thick, too...much for a bitten lip.

He’d been bleeding from the head.

And gotten out of breath far too quickly, even by Aziraphale’s standards.

And he’d only moved and gestured with one hand, the other clamped tight to his side.

And he’d grunted and gasped whenever Crowley touched him…

Rearing up again, Crowley looked at the hail, the damage it had caused. No chance it had only just restarted. The hail had been falling since the moment the Bentley crashed, and Aziraphale had been shielding them until…

Until he hadn’t had the strength anymore.

Crowley shot back across the grass, moving faster than he ever had before, ignoring cold and rain and pounding hail. In barely half a minute, he could see - up ahead - glowing figures of pure light, at least half a dozen, surrounding one who was pale and dim, kneeling half-collapsed on the ground.

The serpent shot past, no longer a serpent, some unnatural creature of fangs and claws and wings.

He threw himself at the nearest figure, mauling it, teeth sinking into its throat. Then he kicked free and launched towards the next, coiling around it, grabbing at its head with clawed hands while his wings flapped wildly.

Crowley wouldn’t last long. He was no fighter - he was a coward, a trickster, a being that lurked in the shadows. But right now, he had the element of surprise and six thousand years of protective instincts. He would not let them hurt his angel.

By the time the glowing beings had beaten him down and thrown him into the mud, too weak to stand, he’d put three of them out of the fight.

“Glad that’s settled,” one of them growled. “Which do we take?”

The voice wasn’t familiar - nothing about them was familiar. They didn’t quite feel like angels, but they certainly weren’t demons.

“Doesn’t matter,” another said. “Either’s as good as the other. Just grab one before they notice.”

“Take me,” Crowley said immediately, pushing himself up by his arms, crawling forward with teeth bared.

A foot lashed out, kicking him in the jaw. “The other one is less trouble.”

Crowley glanced over his shoulder. Aziraphale lay on his side, eyes dazed, mouth moving weakly. His chin was still streaked with blood that he’d coughed up, dripping down to mix with the rain around him. Whatever they’d done to him, he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

Pushing himself up again, Crowley glared at their attackers. “You will take me. If you even touch him, I will fight you until you have to destroy me. And I don’t think you have time for that.”

“But if we take you, you’ll come quietly?”

Crowley nodded.

Glowing fingers grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright. Crowley bit back a shout and shifted the rest of the way to human form. As soon as he’d changed, one of the beings hit him in the stomach, nearly knocking him over again.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale, still in the mud, struggled to rise, half-dazed eyes in a panic. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, so it was something else that ran down his face.

“S’alright,” Crowley said as soothingly as he could, while bright white hands landed on his shoulders. “I know you’ll come for me.”

“Yes!” It was more a squeak, a strangled choking noise. “Wherever you are, I’ll--”

Everything turned white.

Then black.

Then white again.

And Crowley blinked, looking around a hallway that was neither Heaven nor Hell.

Sorry for the cliffhanger! I do know the next part, but not sure if I’ll get it out before the end of Whumptober. I’ll see what I can do! Thanks for reading!

#whumptober2020 #no.9 #For the Greater Good #Run #no.30 #now where did that come from #ignoring an injury #internal organ injury #good omens #fandom #wounds #blood #car crash #losing consciousness #abduction #good omens fanfiction #my writing #whump

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katierosefun · 4 years

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known

The events of Lawless, only Satine lives. But at a cost.

**for Obitine Week 2020, Day 2: Role Swap

wc: 2215

read on ao3 | read on ff

Satine’s knees had long gone numb since the Death Watch had dragged her into the throne room, but she didn’t particularly care, not as she stared up at that wretch who sat on her throne. At Obi-Wan kneeling a little ways from it, his face shadowed and interrupted by bruises and small cuts. Satine had just barely repressed her own cry when some of the Death Watch members had thrown Obi-Wan as though he were a sack of bones.

But Obi-Wan had lifted his head to Satine, and though pain had glazed his eyes, they remained steady. Don’t, he seemed to say, and Satine had wanted nothing more than to tear out of the grip of the men who gripped her shoulders and run to Obi-Wan, drag them both out of the palace as they had come so close to doing just a few minutes ago.

Now, Maul pushed himself off the throne and settled down in front of Obi-Wan, an ugly leer stretched across his face. “A bold attempt,” he drawled, lifting Obi-Wan’s chin with a gloved hand. “But did you truly think you would get the Duchess and yourself out of this palace without my knowing?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, and Satine didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not how even in pain, his voice still remained light. “I was able to get into this palace without your knowing, wasn’t I?”

Satine sucked in a breath, waiting for that monster to do something, but Maul only smiled. It was the worst thing that Satine had ever seen: a chill, gradual smile that would have sent the average person tumbling back, but Obi-Wan remained steady, his expression solid as Maul stood back up.

“I could kill you right now,” Maul said, growing to his full height. He circled around Obi-Wan, those yellow eyes of his trained on him. “Or,” he said, and in a flash, Satine felt something cold wrap around her throat, and then she was being lifted in the air—and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She clawed her hands up for her throat, trying to find some way to unblock the passage of air, her mouth opening and closing, desperately trying to suck in whatever breath she could find—

“Or,” Maul said, his voice a low chill, “I could kill her first.”

There was movement out of the corner of Satine’s eye, and when she managed to look down, she found Obi-Wan on his feet, rage flickering across his face. “It’s me you want,” he said, his voice low, even. “Let her be.”

Satine felt that grip on her throat tighten, and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was really how she was going to meet her own end—if she really was going to die right here. She met those thoughts with some quiet reluctance, but at the same time, looking down at Obi-Wan’s stormy eyes, she was met with a small stab of sadness. She would have liked to see him away from this place first.

But then the hold on her throat loosened, and Satine crashed to the ground, pain splintering up her limbs as she collided on the cold floor.

She gasped for breath, coughing, wheezing as air filled her lungs once more. She heard rapid footsteps, a few shouts, and then Maul’s quiet, “No—let him.”

And then Satine felt hands on her face, brushing back her hair, flitting past her chin, her cheeks. She managed to lift her head and found Obi-Wan, his eyes wide and pained, and then relieved—a tentative, choked kind of relief—as she said, “I’m alright.”

She wanted to reach up to his face, rest a hand against his cheek and drag him close, rest her forehead against his and shield themselves from the horror of the throne room then—she wanted nothing more than to hide themselves and wait until all of this had come to pass, but she heard the march of footsteps getting closer, and then Obi-Wan was suddenly ripped away from her, leaving nothing but cold and empty air.

Satine watched helplessly as Maul tossed Obi-Wan to the ground, the sound of a body meeting marble filling the throne room with a sickeningly loud thud and crack. A soft groan left Obi-Wan’s lips, but he rolled over to his side, staggered up to his feet as Maul circled him.

“Consider yourself lucky for that brief reprieve, Master Jedi,” Maul crooned. “Because I promise you…” Flashes of red light, and then Maul was twirling his lightsaber around his hands with that ugly sneer of his. “There will be no more.”

Obi-Wan only smiled grimly. “Good thing I don’t believe in luck, then,” he said.

That was all it took.

And then Maul lunged for Obi-Wan, his lightsaber flashing, unyielding, unforgiving. Obi-Wan dodged out of the way, and then he extended a hand—there was a soft click, and then the lightsaber hanging at Maul’s side came free.

Satine watched as Obi-Wan just barely activated his lightsaber in time to meet Maul’s. Their blades met in a clash of red and blue light, and then a blinding white as they pressed against each other—Maul’s face glowing with rage, Obi-Wan’s glowing with a cold determination.

Satine looked around the throne room, at the Death Watch still stationed around the throne room. Her mind raced for some idea of how to disrupt the duel—if she could at least leash one of the blasters at one of the members’ sides, then she could—

The thought of letting loose any violence still chilled Satine to her very core, but the noisy clashes of lightsaber against lightsaber, the hatred radiating off Maul—

Satine knew that this Maul wasn’t going to end the duel until he won.

Satine snuck a glance at the weapon dangling from the Death Watch member standing closest to her. She could make a quick lunge for it, and then—what? She could kick out his legs, hopefully give him enough of a surprise and enough disorientation for herself to get a handle on the situation.

But before Satine could think of any other way to execute her little plan, there was a sudden jab at her shoulders.

“Eyes front,” the Death Watch member behind her barked.

Satine swung her gaze back around, her core tightening as she felt the nudge of a blaster at the back of her skull. She didn’t need to hear any more warnings to know what any more movement from herself might mean. A part of her raged and raged, looked blindly for some other way out, but that blaster at the back of her head kept her eyes trained on the fight still going on in front of her.

Obi-Wan met Maul blow for blow, his face tightening with each impact of their weapons clashing against each other. Maul growled something that Satine couldn’t make out, but she knew it was bad enough that Obi-Wan’s entire body seemed to clench, and then, in a burst of sheer power, Obi-Wan had shoved Maul back with a twist of his saber and a wave of his hand.

The wall Maul hit grumbled on impact, but then Maul rolled up to his feet, breathing hard and absolute murder in his eyes.

“You’re getting angry, Kenobi,” Maul crowed, twisting his saber in his hands. “You can feel it too, can’t you?”

“And you must be getting nervous,” Obi-Wan replied, breathing equally as hard. “If you’re suddenly talkative.”

There was pure hatred in Maul’s eyes as he lunged for Obi-Wan again, his lightsaber nothing more than an angry blur of red before it collided against Obi-Wan’s blue. Despite the danger, Satine felt herself leaning forward, her lips moving in silent prayer as Obi-Wan skidded back at Maul’s sudden push against him.

Please, Satine thought. She didn’t believe in miracles, nor did she believe in luck—but please, just this once—just this once, let them be able to get out of this mess in one piece. She caught Obi-Wan’s eye, saw the sudden renewal of strength in his face before he blocked another one of Maul’s strikes.

Please, Satine thought again. Please, just this once.

Obi-Wan struck at Maul, drove their lightsabers down to the ground, left behind a smoking mark of molten stone before their sabers were back up in the air, bracing against each other. There was one second, two seconds, before Obi-Wan’s foot suddenly shot out, kicked against Maul’s abdomen.

Maul staggered backward with a grunt, and then, regaining his balance, he dove at Obi-Wan once again—only this time, one hand was free, and before she could stop herself, a shout left Satine’s lips as Maul slammed Obi-Wan against the wall. Obi-Wan struggled under the invisible grip, his legs kicking as Maul held him there—pinned, helpless—

Satine didn’t care if there was a blaster to her head. She ducked forward, slipped off her boot—

And it would have been funny if she hadn’t been so terrified—

But she threw her boot against Maul’s head.

That was enough to break Maul’s concentration, and Satine only just let out a breath of relief as Obi-Wan slid back to the ground—before Maul was suddenly swinging his gaze to her, his wrathful gaze unfaltering as he pulled his lips back into a snarl.

“Perhaps,” he hissed, striding towards her in two powerful steps, “it was a mistake to leave you alive.”

Satine couldn’t even cry out as Maul lifted his saber over his head, aimed right for her chest, and then—

Obi-Wan was suddenly at her side again, his saber close enough that Satine could feel its heat as he pushed away Maul’s blow. Obi-Wan’s face was an unbreakable mask, his eyes lit by the glow of his saber as he said in a dangerously low voice, “I thought we agreed that it was only me you wanted.”

“Ever the negotiator,” Maul snarled, pressing close. “But not quite.”

And then Maul was twisting the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan, too quickly, too quickly—and then Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was twisted out of his grip. Maul let out a growl, his lightsaber aimed for Obi-Wan’s chest, but at the last second, he dove out of the way. Rolled over to his fallen lightsaber, held it up over his head as Maul came crashing down on him.

Satine watched as Obi-Wan staggered under the crushing weight, propping himself up only by his knees as Maul leaned closer, closer.

Satine’s chest tightened. He was stuck in a too vulnerable position, that much she knew. He couldn’t get out, not like that—

And then Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to Satine.

And then, as though in slow motion, Obi-Wan smiled. A gentle, sad smile that Satine only had a moment to process before Obi-Wan dropped his saber from Maul’s and drove it right into Maul’s abdomen—just as Maul’s saber drove into Obi-Wan’s chest.

Satine didn’t recognize the strangled, stuttered cry that left her lips as Obi-Wan dropped back to the ground, the strength already leeching from his body, his face as his lightsaber rolled out of his grip. She was dully aware of Maul falling backwards, his eyes already unseeing as his own lightsaber dropped from his hands. Later, she would realize that the Death Watch had scattered in a panic, leaving Maul’s body behind—

But right now, in this moment, Satine could only scramble for Obi-Wan, her hands shaking as she tugged him into her lap.

His eyes were still open, still fluttering as Satine brushed his hair out of his face, tried to even the trembling in her own voice as she whispered words that didn’t make sense to her own ears—just a rapid breaths that sounded vaguely like Obi-Wan’s name, like a heart breaking.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan breathed, and Satine managed to stop, just for that moment—for that one, brief moment—as she found Obi-Wan’s hand tangling into hers, their fingers helplessly twining around each other. His eyes—so stormy just a few minutes ago, were now clearer than Satine had ever seen them. Bright, shining like the sky that they had walked under years ago.

“I’m here,” Satine managed to say.

Obi-Wan smiled slowly. “I know,” he whispered. His voice was weak, soft. He brought their hands to his lips, the briefest brush of his mouth against her hand.

“I love you,” Satine said, her voice cracking. So please don’t go.

Obi-Wan seemed to hear her thoughts, because his smile turned sad. “I wish I…” he murmured, his eyes drifting up towards Satine’s face. His breaths were coming more rapidly now, but his eyes remained on Satine, his hand still entwined in hers. And then, his breath hitching, he breathed, “I wish I told you sooner.”

Satine’s throat closed. Something wet slid down her cheeks. Tears, she realized dully.

“Do you know?” Obi-Wan whispered, his face flashing with pain. “Do you—”

“Yes,” Satine whispered. She lowered her lips down to Obi-Wan’s forehead, closed her eyes as the rest of the tears slipped away, down her cheeks and into his hair. “I’ve always known.”

There was a sigh.

And when Satine pulled away, she found that Obi-Wan’s eyes were still trained on her—but not on her.

Satine closed his eyes.

And she wept.

#obitineweek2020 #obitine #tcw #star wars: the clone wars #the clone wars #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #my fic #ngl i was also in pain writing the last scene

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theclintbartonbraindump · 4 years

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Clint Barton x Reader - N(ice) Doggies Ch. 3 (Final)

Pairings - Clint Barton (Hawkeye) x Reader (That’s you, dear)

Word Count - 4,507 (oops)

Warnings - Language, mentions of gore but it’s nothing explicit

The big finale. You and Clint have some uninvited guests. The angst is strong with this one, but don’t worry it gets fluffy near the end. Sorry, this one took a little longer than expected, but I hope you all have enjoyed the story. Please leave me a comment, I’d love to hear what you guys thought of my first fic. Also, I take requests so any ideas for a new story feel free to throw them my way.

__________

You awoke with a start at god only knows what hours in the morning. All you knew was that it was still pitch black and the wind was still howling. You rubbed at your icy nose in a failing attempt to warm it up and strained your neck to the side to see what had woken you. As you shifted a strong, warm grip tightened around your lower ribs, causing panic to rise in your chest until you whipped your head around to see that Clint, who was still fast asleep and seemed to be mumbling something about a sandwich, had wrapped one of his muscled arms around you. For all intents and purposes, Clint seemed to be cuddling you. Not that you were about to complain, especially since he was so warm. Hell, the man was practically a walking space heater. You had to fight the urge to flip over and face him and nuzzle your frozen face into his neck, but you didn’t exactly fight him either as he pulled you in closer. From behind you, Clint hummed what sounded to you like approval as you shifted back to your side and let him snuggle you. You really shouldn’t, you thought to yourself, you should push him away, he was your partner after all, this kind of thing wasn’t allowed. However, the feeling of Clint holding you close was just too welcoming. You felt safer and warmer than you’d felt in days. Honestly, you hadn’t felt this way towards anyone in a long time and the fact that Clint could coax these feelings out of you even in his sleep was just unfair. If you hadn’t before you would have to admit it to yourself now. You had feelings for the bird-brained archer, and they were starting to get the better of you.

You frowned inwardly, knowing that you would never be able to make anything of it. You could never tell him how you felt and even if you could there was absolutely no way that he felt the same. Clint was a flirt, just a crazy, adorable, heart-melting flirt and you continued to remind yourself of that as you tried desperately to drift back off to sleep.

Your endeavor was cut short, however, by a particularly strong gust of wind, howling loudly as it cut through the trees. But it didn’t have to take Clint shooting straight up, now very awake and alert, for you to start second-guessing that it was only the wind that was howling.

You sat up slowly, trying to avoid making noise as you both listened. You didn’t have to wait long before you heard the second wolf chime in with its own song, followed closely by another.

“Shit” Clint whispered under his breath. He turned to you, presumably to start giving direction, but you were already gathering your belongings and stuffing them into your pack. Clint followed suit and packed his own things. It wasn’t even a minute before you both had finished, clothed once again in your boots and coats, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

You slowly unzipped a few inches of the tent entrance, listening. What you heard made your stomach drop. The pack was close and definitely upwind, you’d been found, and it wouldn’t be long before they were snapping at your heels.

“We can’t outrun a pack of wolves, Barton.” You informed him, even though you knew he’d have come to the same conclusion by now.

“No, but we can outclimb them.” Clint pulled the zipper from your hand and yanked the entrance to the tent open. He stepped out and took a quick look around before offering you a hand up. Before you knew it, he was pushing you towards a large pine tree a few meters away from your campsite.

“Can you climb?” He asked. Not waiting for your answer before intertwining his fingers to make a foothold for you.

“Yes.” You’d had every intention of making a snappy comeback because of course you could freaking climb, but the urgency in Clint’s voice stopped the smart remark before it could leave your tongue.

You took his offer of help though. Bracing one hand on the tree and the other on Clint’s shoulder, you placed your foot between his hands and reached for the closest branch as he lifted you. Once you had a firm hold of the branch you swung your leg out of Clint’s grip and up around, planting yourself on the bough. You wrapped an arm around the trunk of the tree and reached the other one down towards Clint. He was just wrapping his fingers around your forearm when you looked up and out into the woods. In the distance, you could just make out four sets of reflective eyes staring back at you.

“Barton, get your ass into this tree now!” Your hushed warning causing Clint to take a glance behind him just as you were gritting your teeth to pull him up towards you. Clint pushed off the ground grabbing onto the branch next to you. No sooner had his feet left the ground than you saw the shadowy figures of the wolves skidding to a halt into the sliver of moonlight that illuminated the snow right where Clint had previously been standing.

Clint landed on the branch next to you as you pulled your knees into your chest. It wasn’t a very stable position, but it was better than letting your feet dangle into the waiting jaws of your new canine companions. The wolves snarled and snapped at you from the base of the tree. One leaped into the air, just barely missing Clint’s leg as he hoisted himself a little further up the tree.

“Oo, ok, nice doggies. Please stay on the ground. You coming, sweetheart?” Clint asked, now a couple feet above you. You were too low to the ground, you knew that, but you also weren’t the biggest fan of heights either. The wolves didn’t seem to be able to reach you or at least they were still too preoccupied with Clint to bother with you yet, this spot was fine.

“I think I’m good right where I am thanks.” Even as you said it you knew you were only kidding yourself. You were going to need to move higher, but the thought made your stomach turn. You wrapped your arms around the trunk behind you, taking slow even breaths. This is not how you thought you would go. Clint looked down at you from where he was now straddling one of the higher branches, his foot dangling near your shoulder. He nudged you with it and spoke calmly.

“Look, honey, I know the height is scary, but I promise you those teeth are gonna be way worse than a few extra feet off the ground. You’re already up here so just take it one step at a time and…LOOK OUT!” You had barely just enough time to open your eyes to see the jaws of one of the wolves come within inches of your chin. You braced your arms in front of you, absorbing the force of the wolf’s body before it could hit you in the face. But without your arms holding you to the tree you were knocked off balance and the world spun as you plummeted to the ground, meeting the snow-covered earth hard.

You vaguely registered Clint yelling your name over the scream that exited your body as the air was knocked from your lungs. You needed to stand; it wasn’t even an option. You still hadn’t managed to pull in a breath yet as you got yourself to your knees. You glanced over at the pack that was now mere feet from sinking their teeth into your flesh when something came whizzing out of the tree you had just been in and nailed the closest wolf right between the eyes. It staggered out of its crouched position and seemed to be looking around for what had dared challenge it. You looked up quickly to see Clint launch another pinecone at the wolves before leaning down to grab you by the collar and hoist you back up into the tree. Once you were somewhat steady on a branch, you coughed several times, forcing cold air into your lungs once again. Looking around still dazed your eyes settled on Clint who looked at your sternly before grabbing you by the front of your coat and forcing you to climb higher into the tree. Once you were nearly twice as high as you had been previously, he motioned towards a sturdy looking branch for you to stop on, settling on one just slightly over your shoulder himself. You caught your breath and looked down, the wolves still circling the base of the tree. Vertigo began to take hold, so you closed your eyes once again and wrapped your arms behind you and tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was bound to be a very long night.

You stayed that way for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, gathering yourself and wishing you were just about anywhere but here. Finally, you mustered the courage to open your eyes and steal a glance over at Clint who looked like he was considering the few options you had to escape this situation without getting mauled. He looked at you and gave you a look that told you even before he opened his mouth you were going to hate what came out of it.

“Could be…”

“I swear to fuck if you finish that sentence, I will kick you off that branch and laugh while those wolves crush your trachea.” You didn’t care how hurt he looked, you were so done at this point.

“Well, damn princess, that’s a little dark for you.”

“Don’t patronize me, Barton.” You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t even the slightest hint of venom in your voice at his point. “This is totally your fault, anyway.”

Clint twisted himself awkwardly on the tree branch so that he was still secure but was now facing you. “How in the hell is this my fault?”

“I told you not to jinx us and look what you did!”

“How did I jinx us?”

“You literally said, and I quote, ‘it could be worse, there could be wolves’. That’s what you said verbatim! Clearly, they heard you, so this is your fault!” You hadn’t really meant to raise your voice as loud as you did, but between the stress of three days in the wilderness, the near-death experience, and your conflicting feelings towards Clint topping it all off, you were damn near ready to have a breakdown. You were so worked up that you were starting to shake, and you couldn’t even blame the weather anymore. You noted for the first time that the snow had stopped and the wind was much calmer, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t still freeze your ass off cold out here. You attempted to steady yourself through your breathing.

Clint, despite his annoyance at your outburst, because seriously it’s not like he summoned the wolves or something, noticed you shaking and immediately abandoned all arguments. He couldn’t really reach you to comfort you in any meaningful way from where he was sitting. Instead, opting to hook a finger in the collar of your jacket, at least you would be able to feel that he was there. He felt he should say something, anything, to break the silence that filled the space between you despite the occasional huff or snapping of jaws from the canines below the two of you. But he was never really that good with words. That was why he was supposed to have Natasha, why he had you. You always seemed to know what to say to lift him up, even in his darkest moments. And here you were, trying to hide the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack and all he could think to do was slide his thumb up and down the back of your neck.

“At least the snow stopped.” Smooth Barton. But then again you did start to chuckle.

“I hate you so much right now.”

“No, you don’t. You love me and you know it.” You blushed deeply, averting your gaze from him and looked back down the trunk of the tree.

“That seems highly debatable right about now.” You sassed him over your shoulder. Clint pinched the back of your neck making you yelp.

“Fucking rude.” He muttered, but still smiled at you.

The pack stared up at you from their vantage on the ground. They had to tire out eventually right?

“So, got any bright ideas on how to get us out of here?” You asked. Looking for any possibility that you would be able to venture down the tree, grab your gear and make it to safety. You came up with nothing.

“So far all I’ve got is wait for rescue. The storm’s past so they can’t be too far out, right?”

You hoped that was true. You couldn’t stand being up in this stupid tree much longer.

“Or I guess I could just…Fuck you’re gonna hate me…I guess I could just shoot them.”

You snapped your neck back to see Clint sheepishly holding a gun. You blinked at him in wild disbelief.

“You…you had a gun this whole time?! You were throwing pinecones at the monster dogs when you had a fucking gun?!”

“Apparently,” You had half a mind to break the branch he was sitting on.

“How Clint? Just how?”

“Would you believe that I forgot about it?”

“How do you just forget you have a gun strapped to your thigh?”

“I don’t know! Because it’s me and I do stupid shit like that and you almost died, and I was distrac…” You cut him off by reaching up and smacking him in the chest, your eyes glued to something moving a few meters away.

“Tell me you see that.” You pointed towards the new shadow creeping its way towards the base of your tree and the pack of wolves. The pack turned as one to face the new threat, baring their teeth and growling with renewed intent. A second, more threatening noise came from the shadows and all the blood drained from your face as you realized what you were now up against.

There was a chorus of growls and yelps of pain as the tiger lunged forward, landing teeth and claws first into the closest wolf. It reached out, trying to slash at the others that were now cowering away in fear.

“Holy fuck!”

“Oh my god. oh my god! OH. MY. GOD.”

“Ok, this officially isn’t funny anymore.” Clint righted himself from his shock of the new threat and took aim with his gun. Thankfully, you stopped him before he could pull the trigger, grabbing his wrist.

“What are you doing? You can’t shoot a Siberian tiger!” The sound of your hysterical whispering might have been comical if not for the blood bath raging below you.

“And why the hell not? Sorry, but I’d rather not be cat food today.”

“They’re critically endangered!”

“Right now, so are we!” You and Clint had a wordless battle of wills as you stared him down. You knew he probably wouldn’t have killed the beast, just scared it off. However, you weren’t willing to take the chance that you were wrong.

“The time’s long past for heroics, Hawkeye. Now move your ass up the tree.” You gave him a firm punch to the arm for good measure as you took hold of the branch above you, testing its strength before beginning your climb once again. Clint rolled his eyes.

“Why? The dogs couldn’t reach us. What’s the matter? Not a cat person?” You turned, looking him dead in the eye.

“The wolves couldn’t climb. Monster cats do!” Clint’s face fell, but he followed your advice and started to climb.

You climbed until you thought the branch you were holding would give way and finally straddled the strongest branch you could find that high up, facing the trunk. Clint found a branch directly opposite yours and mirrored your position, your knees touching his. You tried to hide your face into the tree trunk. This was so ridiculous. So much so in fact that you wanted to laugh or else you might start crying. The only thing that kept you from doing so was the sound of the tiger ripping into the wolf carcass below you. It either hadn’t noticed you or it thought chasing you up the tree would be too much of a bother.

“I swear to god if we somehow manage to get out of this I’m retiring.” You spoke quietly so hopefully only Clint would hear you. He placed his hands over yours on either side of the tree.

“Aw, please don’t do that, Sweetheart. Who else is gonna keep an eye on my sorry ass?” There was that look again. Goddamn it this was not the time.

“Would you quit it with the Sweetheart bullshit, jeez.” Clint frowned, looking genuinely hurt. You felt bad, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t want to be just another girl that he casually flirted with. You wanted so much more, but that could never be and if you couldn’t have the real deal you definitely didn’t want him jokingly dangling it in front of your face.

“Sorry, I thought you liked it.” It hurt to see him so brought down by your words, part of you wished you could take it back.

“It not that. I just, it’s too confusing right now, ok.” You hid your face from him. You’d said too much. Even Clint would be able to read between the lines of that statement. You were done for.

“Why? Because you like me?” You stopped breathing. Hell, your heart could have stopped for all you knew. The words buzzed in your ears loud enough to make you dizzy. If not for Clint’s grip on your hands you might have fallen out of the tree again.

“W-what?” Seriously? You couldn’t even try to play it cool.

“And I’m not talking like close friend like. I mean Nat and I are close, but even I know better than to try and cuddle her.”

Wait, what? The bastard had been awake? Well, that explains why he got up and moving so fast.

“I-I thought you were asleep.” Your face was beet red, you knew it had to be. And you knew the Clint must see it too because you could start to see the details of his face. The sun must be rising.

“I actually was, until you turned over and head-butted me in the nose.” There wasn’t any sort of superiority in his voice. In fact, he looked almost shy, like he was the one confessing something.

You looked down, studying the rough angles of the tree. Looking anywhere you could but at Clint. Despite your embarrassment, there really wasn’t any use denying it.

“Guess you caught me.” You shuffled around in your spot on the tree branch, trying to pull away from where your knees were touching his, but Clint’s grip on your hands tightened. You looked up, daring to steal a glimpse of his face and were met by his piercing eye, mere inches from your own. The silence that stretched between you seemed impassible, but you were determined to salvage what was left of your friendship with Clint. You weren’t about to let him go just because your heart had gotten away from you.

“I’m sorry if – if this makes things awkward between us. That’s the last thing I wanted. I’ll understand if you don’t want to work with me anymore, but I couldn’t stand it if this ruined our friendship. You mean too much to me for that to happen.” While you spoke Clint’s expression continued to shift. To what you weren’t entirely sure, but by the time you finally managed to shut your mouth he seemed to have settled on disbelief.

“Why would this ruin our friendship?” He asked you gently. You stared at him. He looked as confused as you felt. He seemed to come to some kind of consensus with himself as he let out a deep breath.

“Look if you’re saying that because you think I don’t feel the same, then you don’t have to worry because I do. I like you. A lot. Honestly, I thought it was pretty obvious, or at least Nat said it was. And knowing you, you probably have protocol in the back of your mind and you really shouldn’t worry about that either. The rule is just there so that rookies don’t start trying to play freaky teacher’s pet with their S.O.s. Trust me, the higher-ups don’t give a shit what we do. So now that I’ve bared my soul and all that bullshit, it’d be really nice if you could say something so I don’t feel like such a bumbling idiot.”

You couldn’t help it. You were dumbstruck. There’s no way you heard him correctly. He felt the same? He was fidgeting like a little kid who had just been scolded for drawing on the walls. It was so adorable and absurd and wonderful, and you were filled with so much relief that you couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped you. Clint looked away from you, obviously taken aback by your reaction, and it almost looked like he was about to start climbing down away from you when you reached out a hand to grab his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” You sighed. Still chuckling slightly at your own stupidity. Had he really been trying to be obvious? How had you gone this long without noticing? It had been all too easy for you to blame his affection on shameless flirtation when in fact he had been trying to be sincere. In your defense sometimes it really was hard to tell the difference with Clint Barton. “you just don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

The look he gave you was one of pure affection, something you couldn’t remember ever seeing on him before and who could blame you if you leaned forward even just a little. Clint met you halfway, both of you awkwardly stretching around the tree between you to rest your foreheads against one another. You smiled to yourself and felt genuine joy for the first time in days, maybe even weeks.

“Well we’re just a couple of idiots, aren’t we?” Clint finally broke the silence, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Just a couple of morons stuck in a tree.” You both had to laugh at that, the gravity of the situation you were still faced with compared to the emotions that were swelling within you was more than a little comical.

“I just know there’s a joke here about two idiots and a tiger walking into a bar.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the punch line?”

“You falling out of the tree and landing on your ass.” He smirked at you.

“Jerk! I’ll show you a punch line.” You drew your hand back, fully intending on giving him a sizable bruise on the arm when a muffled hum rang through the air, stopping you before you followed through on your threat.

“Do you hear that?” You asked, looking above you.

“We are not starting this again. I’ve already had too many surprise visits for one night.

“Ssh!” You clamped a hand over his mouth as the humming grew louder, becoming more distinct and more familiar. Clint pulled your hand away from his mouth and you both breathed a sigh of relief as a quinjet came into view above you.

The tiger, which had just about finished its midnight snack, scampered away in terror as the door to the jet opened above you.

“Need a lift?” A voice called down to the two of you. You wanted to cry. This whole ordeal was finally over.

It took you slightly longer than you would have liked to admit to slowly work your way down the tree. The storm may have past, but it was still biting cold and you hadn’t realized just how stiff your muscles had grown up in that tree. Finally, you were on solid ground again, gathering your things before once again climbing into the air. This time, though, you came to rest in the quinjet. Ridding yourself of your heavy coat and shamelessly flopping onto your back stretching your tight muscles. Now that you were having a chance to relax you were able to notice just how sore your back was. You probably did more damage than you initially thought when you fell out of the tree. You would need to get that looked at. Despite your soreness, you could feel yourself sinking into the floor, your eyes fluttering closed, relieved to be safe at last. You vaguely registered Clint speaking to the pilot, telling them that you’d found jack shit before you heard him settle down behind you. His head came to rest next to yours as he let out a deep sigh, likely just as relieved as you were to not be stuck up a tree anymore.

You could feel him staring at you and you grinned shyly, remembering your unfinished conversation. Clint’s hand came up to rest against your face and you turned to him, opening your eyes. His handsome features only slightly marred by your sleepless night. You realized then that you must look like crap. Three days without showering coupled with the terrible night you’d just experienced probably hadn’t done anything for your appearance. You found yourself feeling self-conscious, making to pull away from him, but Clint’s hand on the back of your head kept you in place. Just as you lifted your eyes to meet his again, he pressed his lips to your forehead. It was brief, only there for a second before he was turning away to spread out on the floor.

“You and I are gonna have a chat later.” He said, smiling to himself and tucking the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair behind his head. You smirked, gazing up at the ceiling of the jet. Fine if he wanted to play like that.

“Oh really? Chat? Is that what we’re gonna do?” You felt his grip tighten in your hair before he flicked you. “Ow”

“Hm, don’t tease woman. You’ve already got me, no need to threaten me with a good time.”

Your face broke into a full smile as you turned to nuzzle your face into his neck. He pulled you closer and turned his face to you, this time his lips finding your cheek, lingering there for a few moments. Finally, he was yours and you were his and that was more than you could have ever hope for.

#clint barton x reader #clint barton / reader #avengers x reader #avengers / reader #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye / reader #clint barton #hawkeye #Avengers #clint deserves more love

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littlesugarwords · 5 years

Text

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “We Know”

Take Us Back spoilers ahead!!! Title: We Know Characters: Clementine, Louis, AJ, Ruby, Aasim, Violet Summary: After Clementine’s amputation, AJ runs back to Ericson, urgent for help. Louis, Clementine’s boyfriend, rushes to find her in a panic. Author's Note: oh my god okay thank you guys for letting me bump this sucker up because UGH I wanted to write this so damn bad Requested By: various Anons support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“Guys!”

AJ was out of breath when he slammed through Ericson’s front gates. Louis had been cut off from him and Clem a few hours previous, and the entirety of Ericson had been sitting in nervous panic since. So, watching AJ burst in through the front gates without warning — without understanding — was terrifying to say the least.

But that wasn't what Louis cared about. Not when he dropped everything in his arms to run to him. Not when he was blindly yelling his name.

“Where’s Clementine?” Louis wailed, throwing himself to his knees, gathering the child in his arms. His stare was wide, blank, trained forward through the swinging gates. His gaze didn’t leave the dirt as AJ sobbed into his shoulder and quivered into his chest. A part of him hoped that Clementine was just behind him, somewhere in that forest just as the sunrise took the forest in its grasp. He hoped they could leave the gates open because she was right there.

“The barn,” AJ wheezed, the words dancing on his breath. “She’s in the barn.”

“The barn?” Aasim, one of the many crowding the two posed. “What barn?”

“The walker barn.” AJ managed, prying himself from Louis’ chest.

Louis’ arms didn’t leave the child’s elbows, not wanting to let him get too far away — not wanting him to disappear too. The pit in his stomach grew larger, forcing out the question he felt too sick to ask. “Why is she there if you’re here?”

AJ’s stare sat on Louis’, wobbling under his terror. The look alone answered every question. “She’s hurt.”

Before Louis knew what he was doing, he was running. He took off through the gates without a second thought. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t know where the barn was, he just knew it wasn’t there. Being anywhere not in Ericson meant he was closer to Clementine.

He couldn’t hear everyone screaming his name. He didn’t hear AJ’s sobs as he chased after him, each step prompting a louder wail. He didn’t hear Ruby and Aasim charge a beat later, hauling bags of medical equipment.

“Louis!”

“Which way?” He heaved, flipping around, eyes wide and mad, hair frazzled and wind-warped. He scoffed, raising his voice upon not getting a response. “AJ! Which way?”

“Louis!” Aasim yelled, skidding to a halt in front of the teen, AJ and Ruby fumbling at his heels.

“What?” He scoffed, loudly, irritably. “We don’t have time for this. Where’s the barn? Where’s Clem?”

“Louis, you need to calm down—”

AJ pointed to their right and Louis stopped listening. It wasn’t like he had been in the first place, he was too lost in his own head trying to navigate through his thoughts. He couldn't calm down, not when he was so close to losing her.

When they reached the barn, they were greeted with a slew of walkers clamouring at the walls and doors, thrashing through openings, desperately trying to squeeze their way through.

Louis didn’t slow, didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. His body reacted without hesitation, sliding through the motions as if he had done it millions of times. He grabbed a pitch fork from outside of the barn and began swinging, stabbing, and attacking every being that stood in his way.

He killed no more than he needed to. That was a waste of time.

As soon as he cleared a path, he tossed the pitchfork to the ground at Aasim’s feet if his clearing didn’t keep. AJ followed right on his heels, charging full force into the rickety barn. Ruby and Aasim pulled up the rear and stumbled behind a new swarm. The last thing AJ saw was Aasim grabbing the pitchfork and forcing Ruby behind him.

Louis was too busy running to notice they’d been held up. As long as they eventually got in, as long as they could eventually help her, that was what was most important to him. He was so lost in his panic that it was the only thing that seemed remotely important to him.

He felt numb pushing through the barn. He’d left his body long ago. Now, his body was merely going through the motions. As he entered the pen, as he spotted the splatters of crimson, the contortions of hay, the distress of the room, he felt his ears begin to ring and his eyes begin to blur.

There sat Clementine white as a sheet, propped against a stack of hay, a puddle of blood resting against the stump remnant of her left leg. Just to Clementine’s left sat the remainder of her leg — hacked off, jagged, and abandoned.

“Clem?” Louis collapsed before he’d even reached her, crawling desperately to her side. His hands clung to her shoulders, shaking her as viciously as he could shake a porcelain doll. He couldn’t risk breaking her. “Clem? Clem, oh my God.”

The rattling of footsteps sounded behind him. He didn’t turn. He couldn’t take his stare off of her. Not then. Possibly not ever.

“Oh my God—”

“Clementine,” Aasim breathed, silencing his girlfriend’s cry. Both stood silent, their medical kits crashing to the ground — the same floor that housed Clementine’s mauled leg. Ruby’s palm cupped her mouth, her face draining.

“I didn’t know what to do,” AJ wailed, kneeling beside her, taking one of her hands into his. He held it to his chest, asking for her to feel his heart beat. “I didn’t know how else to help her.”

“Help?” Aasim breathed, anger clutching his breath. “Chopping off one of her limbs was supposed to help her?”

“She got bit!” He wailed, defensive and seething. The cry caused a surge in the sounds outside. They all stayed still, silent.

Louis’ eyes didn’t flinch. His fingers brushed at her cheek, hoping to feel or squeeze another ounce of life out of her. His free hand clasped hers, as tightly as he felt he could muster. She was so pale, as if the love that filled her cheeks had long since drained.

“Help her.” He hushed, his pleads quieted by the depth of the grief in his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to turn to Ruby and Aasim — he couldn’t stand to take his gaze off Clementine for even a moment.

He didn’t need to look. Just as he parted his lips to offer his second plea, he felt their presence at his side — Ruby’s softness, Aasim’s sorrow. He felt the snap of the medical kit, the shifting of fabric on her leg, and the light chatter between the three at his side. He could hear AJ offering explanation, urgently sputtering, but Louis couldn’t make out what he was saying. He was too lost.

His thumb running in circles over Clementine’s pale, chilled cheek. He couldn’t hear anything in the world around him — he was lost in the cool of her skin, frozen alongside her. “I really need you here with me,” he whispered, choking back. “I can’t lose you. I need you.”

His words hung in the air, well aware that Ruby, Aasim and AJ could all hear his pleads. He didn’t care. He needed Clementine to hear them, however possible.

Then, her eyes twitched. From just under her lids, they shifted, and wobbled, and slowly creaked open, exposing the dimmed light beneath. They shifted, glossed over and hazy as if she wasn’t really there. After a moment, they landed on Louis. Ruby and Aasim froze their disinfecting, eyes wide, jaws agape.

Her lips parted, able to register what she was seeing. “Louis?” She managed out.

Louis smiled, tears pouring in. She was alive. She was still alive. They had a chance to keep her. “Clem, my God.” He breathed, wanting the hush to come out sweetly but instead being forced out as a restrained sob. “Thank God you’re here.”

She’d heard him. She’d returned.

Clementine gave a groggy smile — one that took every ounce of her strength to put on. She meant every inch of it. “It’s good to see you too.” She teased.

Urgently, quickly, clamouring to keep her in the state, Ruby and Aasim kept working. They fought back tears as they worked, blinking rapidly to clear their vision enough to operate.

Louis dipped in, without thinking, and grazed his lips with hers. He was as gentle as possible, not wanting to press too hard, terrified even the slightest pressure could crack her. When he pulled away, watching her eyes flutter to life with more fervour, he slid out a laugh and the tears clinging to his lashes released. “You look beautiful.”

She laughed — drearily, but with more energy than he feared — and he felt like he was home. “I don’t know about that.”

Louis smiled, his fingers tracing her knuckles in the single hand he held. His eyes never left hers. “I do.”

At first, AJ had been smiling at their tearful reunion. After that, his nose scrunched. He looked away, mortified.

“Okay,” Ruby hushed, clicking their kit shut. She was trying to move as gently as possible. “I gotta give the little man props, he did an amazing patch job. AJ is probably the reason you made it.”

Louis clung to his girl tighter. “Really?”

Ruby smiled. “He wrapped it in rope, cauterized it, elevated it. He’s a natural.”

Louis could feel his heart leap into his throat. She was okay. She was going to stay okay. She was going to make it.

“Let’s get her back,” Aasim said, hauling to his feet. He delicately took Ruby’s free hand, helping her the same. He attempted, as best he could, to block her view from the severed limb behind his back. “She needs water and rest.”

“We just need to find a way to get her back safely,” Ruby sighed, stretching. “And comfortably.”

“I’ll carry her,” Louis breathed, his words directed at the couple but trained toward his one and only.

“Louis, you—”

“Clem,” he hushed, his hand slipping from where it had been resting against her neck to clasp her shoulder. “I got you, okay? Let me hold you.” He breathed, tears clamouring up his throat.

She smiled, and even though it was weak, Louis felt as if it was kissing him. She didn’t debate, only nodded. “I know you do.” She said.

Her arms wrapped around his neck to get her off the ground. Once she was there, once she felt the warmth of his grip against her back and legs, she released. She didn’t have the strength to keep her arms wrapped up there. She didn’t have the blood.

They’d only just left the barn when her head had fallen into the crook of his neck, until her weight heaved against his chest, and until his grip grew even tighter. Now that she had faded again, now that she was entirely in his care, his palms, he needed to be more delicate than ever.

He walked slowly, hesitantly, drawing behind everyone else. Ruby and Aasim walked in front, silent, hands swinging by their sides. They couldn’t hold hands. It felt wrong, like adding salt to Louis’ wound.

AJ walked in the middle, constantly looking back to see Clem’s state, to see Louis’. Louis’ stare was downcast, either studying Clementine or the dirt path they followed. He didn’t have the heart to look ahead.

After they’d reached the school, Louis went straight for her room. AJ held open every door for them while Ruby and Aasim filled Ericson in on what had happened. Louis could feel the horror in their stares drill into his spine. He couldn’t imagine what AJ was feeling.

After Louis laid her down, elevated her leg, wrapped her in blankets, they were left alone. AJ trotted in with the occasional glass of water or cup of tea, but Willy and Omar focused on keeping him distracted. Ruby and Violet came with soup later in the day with Ruby guiding Violet to where she could set the cup.

Louis didn’t budge from his spot — a chair propped up beside her bed, watching, praying, hoping on hope that she wouldn’t stop breathing.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, as the orange and pink painted the walls, her eyes heaved open and Louis jolted to life. He’d been half asleep, ready to drop from his exhaustion and panic, but the hum that slipped through her lips fuelled him like a shot of caffeine.

“Clem,” he breathed, clutching her hand, stroking her knuckles. They felt warmer now, like her palm had been filled with life.

“Hey you,” she breathed, smiling. Before she had a chance to say anything more, Louis reached for the glass of water — using his opposite hand as he didn’t want to release his grip on her — and passed it to her. Greedily, she downed it.

It was beautiful. It meant she was okay.

“I can’t live without you, Clem.” The words fell out like a waterfall, the waves he couldn’t stop. She gulped, and set her cup down, and watched as his eyes wavering on hers. “It’s not living if you’re gone.” He continued. “It’s just existing, waiting for you to come back.”

He glanced down, wrangling the emotions running wild in his chest. With them sorted, he glanced up, reaching for her cup of semi-warm soup, hoping to give her strength. When he turned, his lips crashed into her own, her body surging to meet him halfway.

As she pulled away, his stare fluttered like wings, soaring in disbelief. Then, seeing her tender stare, he chuckled.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” she said. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Louis smiled, lifting a spoonful of soup, leaning forward, and letting her capture it.

“I know,” he said, and knew he was being honest. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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killervibe · 5 years

Note

“Stop hogging the blanket!”

It was damp and wet and pitch black in Gorilla City.

Cisco was starting to think sleeping in this flimsy excuse of a tent he was sharing overnight with Caitlin was the stupidest idea they’ve ever made.

“Stop hogging the blanket!” he groused when the thin sheet they had resting over them was pulled taut, flying away from his side of the tent like a magician’s trick. He yanked it back.

“You’re hogging it!” she snapped.

Cisco turned to his other side and curled into the fleece. The ground was hard. Tree roots and crevices made it hard to be comfortable, even with their supplies.

“Do you think we’re safe here?” Caitlin asked quietly. Cisco closed his eyes and breathed out slow. Frankly, there was no bother trying to sooth each other about safety when at any moment they could be trampled by wild gorillas or taken control by telepathic ones.

“Barry was the one who set up camp in this spot.”

Caitlin was silent.

“Not that Barry always knows what he’s doing.”

The next thing he knew, his best friend yelped and invaded his personal space.

Cisco swallowed. “Um,” he said.

He had an armful of Caitlin, her arms wrapped around him, her toes digging into his calf. He shivered involuntarily, freezing at this sudden turn of events.

Caitlin cuddled closer, burying her head into the crook of his neck.

His heart hammered in his chest.

“Why are you clinging to me?” he choked out once he managed to work his jaw open, his voice faint and strained.

She may have been feeling cold but she was warm, hot pulses flooded his nervous system at feeling her body all pressed against him. He swallowed again, his arms squeezing her soft middle.

“Am not!” she flushed, sounding indignant. Well Cisco didn’t know if she was flushing or not but he assumed so, what with the way she squeaked.

“Caitlin, you literally jumped into my sleeping bag.”

“Cisco,” she hissed.

“–You unzipped my bag and just smooshed yourself right in.”

Her fingers dug into his skin. “Don’t you hear that!?!?!?!”

“What?”

Something rustled outside of the tent. And then a twig snapped. Caitlin clung harder.

“That!” she whisper-yelled.

Oh. Oh no. That.

Cisco zipped up the half done zipper, sucking Caitlin into his tiny space. They were no longer cold, the thermal sleeping bag burning their shared heat like a furnace.

“Do you think that’s Solovar’s brother?”

Cisco put his hand over Caitlin’s mouth, and they went stock still.

Ten minutes passed before either of them said a word. Another twig snapped.

“Go check,” Caitlin said.

Cisco squawked. “No, you check! You’re the one with that creepy gorilla connection.”

“That was only with Grodd!” she exclaimed.

“Caitlin.”

“Cisco.”

They bickered, trying to push the other out to check for Gorillas, using every dirty trick in the book until they were actually starting to get mad at each other.

“My debt to you in frozen foods do not equate to getting mauled by a gorilla, Caitlin!”

“You just admitted you owe me a debt!”

It was hard to concentrate. Cisco’s mind going to places that should be crossed off with red tape. Places like how Caitlin feels so close like this, her frizzy hair against his shoulder, her breathing pushing against his own. Her long legs slotted in with his–

The tent flap unzipped and the two screamed, jumping out of their skin. Cisco shot up, adrenaline making him near insane, and Frost came barrelling out from under him, Caitlin activating her powers.

Barry’s head stuck in, his hair all matted and messy. He rubbed his eyes. “Will you two shut up? Iris and I are trying to sleep.”

“Barry!” Cisco cried, “They’re here!”

Barry, clearly in no hurry to get used by an army of evil wild animals, rolled his eyes, and zipped open their tent wider to expose them to the rain forest.

“No, they’re not.”

Caitlin skidded backwards, hiding behind Cisco. Usually Cisco would hide behind Frost. It was kind of nice. Wait. He was getting distracted.

Barry gestured dramatically to the open, and sure enough there were no gorillas.

Another twig snapped though.

“Okapi?!?” Caitlin gasped, her ice melting away. She grabbed Cisco’s hand, super excited.

“Okay-what now?” Cisco repeated, eyeballing the weird heard of animals eating some fern and fungi in front of them.

“Okapi,” Caitlin said, letting out a breath of relief. She reached for the flashlight and shone it bright. “They’re like mini forest giraffes. They’re herbivores. And harmless. And cute!” “Kinda looks like a zebra,” Barry commented. “Okay, well, now that you two know you’re not going to die yet, Iris never wants to hear about that time Cisco fixed Caitlin’s blocked pipes ever again.”

They both flushed, stammering.

“Goodnight,” he said pointedly, and closed the flap.

Caitlin shone the flashlight in Cisco’s face. He grimaced at its brightness, but had a funny smile on his face. She was no longer in his sleeping bag, but still awfully close.

“Wanna watch the Okapi with me?” her eyes were sparkling with eagerness, biting her lip.

“What? Outside? Where there’s still the chance of running into Solovar’s evil fam?”

“We can drag our sleeping bags out there and come back in when they leave.”

“We’re going to get bitten alive,” Cisco protested weakly, already opening up the flap again to rearrange the netting, a fond smile worming its way on his face.

But Caitlin grabbed his hand again, even after he had let go, resting her head against him sleepily. She told him ridiculous facts about Okapi Cisco had no idea how she knew off the top of her head but was enjoying very much anyway.

The animals did their thing, munching away, and Cisco’s own eyes grew heavy, a warm content feeling expanding in his heart.

Cisco was starting to think sleeping in this flimsy excuse of a tent he was sharing overnight with Caitlin was the best idea they’ve ever made.

#killervibe #cisco x caitlin #the flash fic #tkv fic #fluff

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doginshoe · 5 years

Text

The Draconian Huntress VI

Thanks so much to @bonneyq for being a beta for this! Please check out her writing!

Her last arrow whizzed through the air and burrowed itself deep into the Goat head. The force split throw bone as it landed right between its eyes and exploded into a bloom of light. It tore apart the flesh of the beast. Blood spilled from the embedded arrow, the Goat head bleating out a cry that was cut short as it sunk. The head of the beast lolled around as the other two, Serpent and Lion, kept fighting whilst paying no mind to the mass of flesh that weighed it down.

The animal was crazed.

No attack would keep it at bay, even with Gray’s ice leaving large gashes as he worked with Juvia or Lucy’s many arrows that sunk into its body wouldn’t make it flee.

It didn’t make sense.

Their hunt was relentless as it roared with untamed fury, yet its injuries would usually have the large beast scampering away; admitting defeat and looking for easier prey. Lucy rolled away from a breath of fire as she studied the animal before her.

It slashed with its large front paws, the claws sharp enough the rip through muscle with the ease that one would have tearing through fresh dough. The jaws gnashed and snapped, the Serpent head blowing harsh bouts of hot flames mindlessly as the wings on its back spread out and flapped madly. Its was fighting as if it had been overcome with bloodlust, possessed by dark evil. The archer moved cautiously, her mind calculating and focused on every movement and cry on the battle in front of her.

She could see Juvia waning. The guardian was a protector of water, her abilities not made for the exhausting constant onslaught of a fight. Wendy stayed a few paces back, the girl dived and dodged as debris flew through the air.

“Watch out!” The young girl called out for her teammates occasionally to look out as she didn’t have the skills to verse such a beast in combat, Lucy noted that she’d have to teach the diplomat to handle herself with a bow in the future if they survived.

Gray fared much better with the accompany of Juvia’s water, but it simply wasn’t cold enough for him to muster a finishing attack against a creature of its size in the muggy weather of the forest that grew as they approached the desert land of near the kingdom of Draconia.

Despite their disadvantages already against the beast, Lucy could sense the greater threat of exhaustion overtaking her friends.

Their night’s rest had been close to nothing from the attack of the Goblins and they had been travelling all night as well as the day prior, which the sun that began poking up over the tall trees told her. She guessed there would only be a few more hours of travel before they reached the end of the East Forest. Their lack of rest and the recent events showed in the slowing of Wendy’s movements and how she would occasionally stumble. It was present with the way Gray’s shoulders heaved as he panted after every attack.

The archer could feel it herself with how her gaze would become bleary. To make unfortunate circumstances worse she had shot every arrow she had and was left without means to attack.

Lucy shook her head, clearing her thoughts before her brows narrowed at the rampaging monster was bloody and beaten. It swiped a large paw at Juvia. Gray shot forward an ice sword coming up to pierce through the skin impaling itself as he kneeled, the force slamming him down.

It growled ferociously, the Serpent snapping it’s large jaws and giant teeth, before a wave of water was sent crashing it back so the winter sprite could roll from beneath the paw, sword still buried in the flesh.

Lucy ran to them, ducking from a gnashing Lion head and skidding under striking paw, blood dripping down her face as it fell from the injured appendage.

“Lucy!” Gray yelled. Ice spikes shot out from his hands as he stood over a kneeling Juvia. The flurry of sharp icicles were like glass as it sliced up the beast in front of them and it took huge steps back as it roared in pain, trying to hide behind the foliage to stop the shards from slicing open its flesh.

The archer came to a sudden halt beside them not wasting anytime as she stared at them. “Can you both still fight? I have a plan.” Gray’s dark eyes immediately glanced down to Juvia who nodded slowly as she stood up with a shaky breath.

“Juvia,” the water guardian took a breath, a weak smile coming across her face, “Juvia can still fight.” Gray’s stare lingered on her for a second longer before he nodded towards Lucy.

“We are going to have to kill this thing.” Lucy gestured towards the fiend that stumbled forward, blood loss finally affecting the giant beast. “One last attack, okay? Gray, I need you to freeze the Serpent. I’m gonna take on the Lion.” She turned her body towards the beast, her eyes set into determination as she watched as the monster got back into its senses.

“Lucy, are you-” a giant roar cut throw the air and all of them froze. “Just don’t die,” Gray murmured and he gently hoisted Juvia up - her white dress fluttering from the movement. The Water Guardian blinked shyly at him before a large smile took over her face and took her stance beside him, ready to attack.

The archer sent a sideways glance at the both of them as they stood merely inches apart, a smirk pulled on her face as she sneered, “You just don’t get distracted.” Gray sputtered but the approaching growl had her waving him off. “I’ll need some ice from you, something sharp and a jump to get up to that thing.” She pointed.

He glared at her before an Ice Flamberge was put together before her eyes: the sparkle of particles coming together to form an ominous glow before it settled and the familiar ice blade was there. Lucy reached out and gave it a quick once over.

“Good.” She nodded in approval.

A burst of flames tore the party apart as they respectively dodged to either side. Lucy took off into a sprint to closed in to the monster. The claws swiped out for her, Wendy screaming for her to fall back as the young girl watched from across the rushing water on the bank.

However, even with the distraction, she kept on as she faced off the Lion head as Gray and Juvia kept the Serpent distracted.Lucy trembled, her icy sword burning her hand and she hoped it would be strong enough; until the Lion Head, gnashing its jaws, let out an earth-shattering roar that reverberated throughout her being. Lucy growled back as she slashed at the bloody maul that threatened to rip her apart as it snapped up at her head. She rolled to the side, her breathing uneven and hard.

This was the last moment, now or never.

The large paw came down again on her and Lucy grabbed hold of the ice blade already stuck inside and twisted it, a pained loud and unearthly sound echoing in the forest, and she pulled it from the flesh with a loud grunt, as the blade had been deep.

Blood poured from the wound and sprayed her clothing, the sticky liquid matting her hair along with the mud - but it mattered not, not when there that beast was still alive. Lucy sidestepped quickly and charged at the beast head on.

“Gray!” She screamed as she leaped into the air and her feet met the cool solid blocks and she pushed from them. With both swords in the air she swung down into the neck of the Lion’s head.

Time seemed to slow as she pushed the ice blades deep into the beasts throat while she was airborne. Lucy could hear her own cry as she flew through the air, the faint sound of rushing water and feel the temperature drop before she was falling. She tightened her grip on the swords as gravity yanked her down and a piercing roar erupted from the Lion head.

The blades slipped, but before they could fall loose Lucy heaved herself up using the wild mane as an anchor. The archer mounted herself, gripping the matted hair furiously before pulling the Flamberge free with as much strength as she could. Crimson blood splattered from where the sharp blade had embedded itself through the tissue and ripped up the muscles with its winding curves.

The sorrowful roar turned to a gargled whine as the beast stumbled, legs giving way, trembling.

“May the light give you mercy,” Lucy breathed, as she heaved the Flamberge sword above her head, aiming at the beasts nape.

A second later, blood oozed down and soaked into the ground, the beast gurgled a hopeless whimper, and then she striked. She channeled the light that thrummed in her veins as she drove the icy blade deep into the beast. It glowed brilliantly as the magic coursed down the ice, cracking as it plunged into the thick muscle of the animal.

Lucy shuddered as the power drained from her. “And guide your soul to the heavens to be judged.”

A startled cry ripped through the air and blood was hacked up as it thrashed around in anguish. Lucy grabbed wildly for the mane as the beast was burned by her magic from the inside, the stench sizzling flesh invading her nose and making Lucy make a disgusted face at the awful smell. It was pungent, but she could not let go.

The beast stumbled, the two heads weighing it down as they lolled pathetically at the bleeding Lions side, the ice encasing the Serpent’s head adding more weight which had it falling to one side. The wings at batting wildly as it tried to retain its balance, but its injured paw gave way and it crashed down. The archer being brought down with it as it collapsed, the whines becoming soft echoes before they ceased entirely and the forest turned silent once again.

Lucy coughed as she pulled herself up from the dead heap of the creature on the floor. Dust fogged the air and burned her lungs but she was okay. She stood on shaking legs, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins as she hobbled over the beast. She looked around at the carnage of where they had battled. Tree’s were toppled over, the earth charred in some places with dips in the dirt from where the beast had scratched at the ground.

The archer peered through the dust, the blood pool from the Lions throat soaked into her boots as she waded her way through the destruction. As the air settled she could make out the three figures of her friends bounding towards her. A weak smile crept on her face as all her strength slipped from her. The fight was over and she had kept them safe. She waved at the as she stumbled forward but their panicked faces caught her off guard as their paces quickend.

“Lucy!” Gray yelled, there was a hiss in the air from behind her, “Watch out!”

She barely had time to react as the Snake sunk its fangs into her thigh, the bite tearing clean through her muscle as a scream was wrenched from her lungs. It had been the tail, the pure black jaded snake head that had kept to the shadows. As it pumped poison into her Lucy could only grab her bow and shove the sharpened curved end deep into its skull. The fangs retracted, the Snake stone dead as she pierced its brain.

Lucy collapsed onto the ground, her whole body shaking violently.

Her friends were by her side a moment later, Wendy ushering the archer hands away from the wound as worried tears gathered in her eyes. The young girl quickly tore a strip of cloth from her skirt as she desperately tried to make tourniquet to stop the copious amount of blood that stained her hands and made a puddle beneath Lucy. Black venom already curled into her as her spidery veins turned dark around the two puncture wounds.

“We have to slow the venom,” Wendy stated quickly as she fumbled with the tourniquet, her hands shaky. A soft hand came down on the young girls shoulder as she looked up into the deep blue eyes of Juvia. Wendy tried to even her breathing as the soothing presence of the Water Guardian washed over her.

“Gray,” Juvia called, “Freeze the wounds.”

Gray was quickly on the other side of Wendy as he tried to cauterise the puncture marks with his burning cold ice. The Winter Sprite cursed as he stared at the large gashes that nearly went clean through her flesh whilst he worked in sealing over the wounds - Lucy crying out in pain as he made a bandage of ice over her thigh, stopping the blood and slowly freezing the venom to a crawl.

She could feel the venom coursing through her leg, even with Gray’s ice slowing down its affects she could still feel the creeping burn of the poison as it felt like it was paralysing her. Lucy felt dizzy, her vision blurring with exhaustion and the shock of what had happened. She should’ve been paying closer mind to what was happening around her. It was in her training - Erza would knock her upside the head for being so careless.

Lucy choked. “We-We need to move. Our supplies..”

Wendy soothed her as Lucy tried to stand but Gray only shook his head.

“She’s right. We lost our equipment, most of her food. Spending more time out here will leave us cold and hungry.” Gray’s eyes stayed trained on the black veins that inched further with every passing second. “There is nothing we can do for Lucy out here. The faster we get to Draconia, the better chance we have at getting help.”

Wendy nodded in agreement.

“I’ll be there, Gray. Wherever there is water you know I will be there.”

Juvia dropped back into the river, her figure disappearing into nothing as she became one with the rushing water. Gray watched her go, but stopped as he hoisted Lucy up, draping her arm over his shoulder to help her walk. She hissed as she was brought up but made no other sound of complaint as they begun walking, Wendy staying close to her side as she held Lucy’s bow for her.

#the draconian huntress #lucy heartfilia #nalu #ft fanfiction #fairy tail #gray fullbuster #wendy marvell #juvia loxar #fairy tail fanfiction #fairytail #my writing #doginshoe

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @gswritings!

Read on AO3

******

Stilinski’s Supernatural Rehabilitation Center

Stiles crossed the small living room to the front door of the cabin. The soft pine scent from the trees outside almost reminded him of the Christmas tree his dad would get every year. A smile twisted his lips as he opened the door.

The preserve looked plain. Just pine trees, dirt paths, a bit of bramble here and there. But it was so much more than that.

Wind rustled the branches, carrying with it a low growl.

“I know you’re hungry!” Stiles called, stepping onto the porch. A feed shed sat just before the tree line. He ambled toward it.

Whenever he thought back to his dad’s face the day he told him he was going to run a magical creature rehabilitation center, he cringed. His dad had laughed at him. Assumed Stiles was joking. Then he got concerned when Stiles didn’t start laughing with him.

Stiles entered the shed, immediately going to the oversized freezer. Most of his patients ate meat. He pulled pounds of frozen veal, venison, and boar out, stuffing them into buckets that were labeled and kept neatly on the wall.

His dad’s first concern was that Stiles would need to live outside of town and if something happened, no one would know where he was.

Stiles had countered that that was what cell phones were for.

The second thing he brought up was the soulmark on Stiles’s left wrist. How will you find them if you’re ankle deep in mud in the woods?

Stiles had rolled his eyes and replied, I guess they’ll just have to find me.

Stiles heaved the buckets up, tottering for a second as his balance was thrown off. Once his feet were steady under him, he headed out.

His boots crunched over the cold earth, breath fogging the air in front of his face. Thankfully, the first patient, an imp with a missing eye, wasn’t far away.

The imp had wandered into the preserve on his own.

Stiles wasn’t sure how exactly the injury had happened, but he’d tended the bloody wound and found a vacant part of the forest for him to stay. “Are you feeling better?” Stiles stepped lightly into the clearing.

A bush rustled half a second before a big, brown eye appeared through the branches. It blinked up at him sleepily.

Stiles crouched; he was still a ways away from the imp but had learned early on that it was best to let it come to him.

He set the bucket down and pulled out a handful of ribs.

The imp’s head jerked up in interest. Twigs snapped and remaining dead foliage fluttered to the ground as it crawled toward him.

Stiles frowned. The wound on the imp’s face was still red and raw. He leaned forward half an inch.

It froze.

“It’s alright,” Stiles soothed, nudging the rib closer to it. “I just need to look closer.”

The imp cautiously approached.

Black crust made a ring around the injury, smelling of decay.

Stiles’s frown deepened. His magic was supposed to prevent infection. Sparks flicked around his fingertips as he called his magic to the surface.

The imp watched him warily, chewing on the rib with small, pointed teeth.

Stiles touched the skin around the wound.

The black decay fell to the ground, the scent fading.

The imp blinked.

“There you go,” Stiles said. “Hopefully there’ll be more progress tomorrow, yeah?”

Charlie, a gnome with the flu, also appeared worse.

“What happened, guys?” Stiles asked, listening as Charlie hacked a cough.

Stiles placed a hand on her rough back. He felt the mucus in her lungs gurgle with each breath. That definitely wasn’t good.

He pulled herbs from his bag and mixed together a tea in a thermos. “Here, drink this.”

Charlie took it, shaking her hands irritably at the too-hot container.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Stiles said.

Charlie glared but tentatively took a sip, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

The water creatures were last. They were furthest from the cabin, located in a large pond that tied into a creek.

The pond came into view quickly; it was grey in the early light, a thin fog hovering just above the surface.

Ripples broke the water, a flash of a fin cresting the surface.

“Good morning,” Stiles greeted, squatting by the edge of the water.

A thin purple-tinged face stared back at him from the depths, sea-weed green hair billowing around her face.

The mermaid hadn’t given him a name to call her. Which was fine, only Charlie and Loti, the water nymph, had given him names.

Stiles looked up, first out over the water, then toward the trees, looking for her.

A low growl reverberated through the woods. More ripples broke the surface, turning into small waves as they hit land.

Stiles rose to his feet. The growl didn’t sound threatening, but it was clearly a warning.

The mermaid twisted around, dark tail glinting in the water.

Stiles watched her swim into the deeper area before vanishing entirely through a film of sediment.

“Loti?” he called.

There was no answer. Not even a chirp of birds in the trees behind him.

The mermaid’s head popped above the surface several yards away. She looked at Stiles, then down at something in the water, then toward the shore. Whatever she was carrying appeared to be heavy; she struggled a couple times to roll what looked like mud onto the land. It took Stiles a moment to realize it was Loti covered in a thick black rot. His mouth fell open in a silent gasp. The smell was horrendous, but as he approached, he could see her breathing. He could save her.

The mermaid swam backwards again, out into the deeper water.

Stiles dropped to his knees next to Loti, magic already flying across his fingers.

In the corner of his vision, the mermaid hunkered lower into the water. He’d have to figure out what was wrong with her in a moment.

Stiles’s head jerked forward, vision blurring as pain exploded behind his eyes.

Loti growled, multiple rows of sharp teeth flashing, and Stiles pitched sideways onto the ground.

Dark…pain…heavy….Everything hurt. He heard a groan. Was someone else with him? Cracking his eyes open hurt, but he managed. He saw Loti’s arm, still charred black. He lifted his head; it bobbed unsteadily as he looked around the darkening trees. He was definitely alone. The groan must have been from him.

He looked back at Loti. He couldn’t tell from the view of her forearm and shoulder if she was still breathing or not. Someone was trying to kill his patients. Pain lanced through his head and down his neck. Someone had tried to kill him.

Water sloshed somewhere close by. Stiles tensed. His attacker had returned.

Purple-tinged skin cut across his vision.

He blinked up at the mermaid. She held something out to him, fingers curled around a dark object. His phone. It was wet, like whoever had attacked him had thrown it in the water.

He rolled onto his side, gasping in pain when it seared down his arm. He gingerly reached out, taking the device. From within its case, it turned on. He’d have to thank his dad for the “life-proof” case he’d once insisted wasn’t “Stiles-proof”.

The mermaid shifted and Stiles looked back at her, realizing for the first time that she’d crawled onto land to reach him. “Thank you.”

She slid back into the water.

Stiles hit the emergency call.

Hands were moving him.

His left wrist felt like it was on fire. Had he fallen on his wrist? He’d have to ask later.

There was a bed beneath him. His bed.

Stiles woke up gradually. His head throbbed and overall, he felt like he’d been mauled by a hellhound. By the time he felt alright enough to open his eyes, he was sure an hour had gone by. Voices floated through the cabin from the kitchen. The bastard was back!

Stiles threw his legs off the side of the bed, snatching up the baseball bat he kept next to the nightstand. He’d beat their head in for touching his patients. He crossed the room, wobbling and distantly noticing that he was in the same pants and socks he’d been in but was now shirtless. He’d deal with that later. He flew down the hall, bat raised as he skidded around the corner into the kitchen.

He swung.

A large hand caught the bat with a solid smack. “It’s alright!” a man said quickly, holding the bat mid-swing. “We’re here to help.”

Stiles’s glare slowly faded, taking in the paramedic uniforms on two men, and the medical kit on the table.

The man holding the bat loosened his grip, slowly pulling his hand back in case Stiles took another swing at him. “I’m Derek. My partner here,” he gestured to the man at the table, “is Jordan.”

Jordan lifted his hand.

“We’re EMTs with-”

“Beacon Hills,” Stiles interrupted, seeing the name on his uniform. “I, uh, can read.” The room spun.

Derek and Jordan were clearly not a threat. Which was nice. Stiles was done with getting into fights…for hopefully the rest of the year.

“Sit down.” Derek put a hand on Stiles’s arm, applying just enough pressure to guide him.

Stiles’s skin grew warm where he touched.

A sense of calm overpowered the nerves and made the spinning stop. He allowed Derek to lead him to a chair. Technically, his chair. They hadn’t taken him to a hospital, and they hadn’t run off screaming at the sight of Loti. Or maybe they had. He’d been unconscious. He didn’t know.

He propped his elbows on the table and set his head in his hands. They had to be supernaturals of some kind. He looked at the medical kit on the table. A decoy.

“Was Loti—the nymph—alright?” Stiles knew she was far from “alright”, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask if she was alive. Whatever had effected the imp and Charlie had also gotten her.

Derek and Jordan exchanged a glance. Jordan gave a one-shouldered shrug and looked at Stiles seriously. “How hard did you hit your head?”

Stiles’s face reddened with fury. “Don’t bullshit me right now. I know she was next to me, by the lake. I know you two didn’t drag me to the hospital because if what happened is supernatural related, you don’t want to scare the humans.” His left wrist tingled painfully. He flicked it in irritation, involuntary sparks shooting from his hand. “You,” he pointed at Derek, “stopped a bat mid swing without even flinching. And your,” he pointed at Jordan, “medical kit is out of date.”

Jordan blinked, stunned.

Derek laughed. “New kits are on the way,” he explained, taking a seat next to Stiles. “Good eye, these technically expire next week.” He placed his hand on Stiles’s arm again, and the pounding in his head faded. “I’m a werewolf, and Jordan’s a hellhound. Care to tell us what happened?”

Stiles buried his face in his hands. “I rehabilitate supernatural creatures and they’re taking sick with black rot. It wasn’t there yesterday. It’s progressing fast. Loti was the worst.”

Derek hummed understandingly. “She’s alive.”

Stiles’s had shot up. “What?”

“It’s wolfsbane,” Jordan said. “We were able to slow down the effects, but we won’t be able to cure them unless we find the same wolfsbane that poisoned them.” Jordan placed his hands on his lap, eyes flicking over Stiles’s face. “Druid?”

“Spark,” he muttered. So, he had to find whoever hit him, find out where they keep their poison, heal his patients, and, he glanced at the clock, feed them a very late dinner.

His left wrist burned.

“What’s going on?” he demanded. He dropped his wrist on the table and twisted, expecting to see a bruise or swelling. Anything to indicate where the pain was coming from. The soulmark that had sat for years just below his palm had changed. Once a simple circle, it now held three connected spirals. “Please tell me one of you is my soulmate, and not the crazy asshole who knocked me over the head.” He looked up, first to Jordan, who looked at Derek.

Without prompting, Derek flipped his own wrist over, exposing the same mark.

“Huh.” Stiles nodded. “You did have to come find me, I guess.”

A concerned frown wrinkled Derek’s face. “You need to get some rest.”

Stiles opened his mouth, halfway to agreeing when a tree snapped in the woods. He paused. If the room hadn’t been so quiet, he was sure he would have missed it. None of his patients ventured this close to the house. The bastard, Stiles thought, jumping to his feet. That bastard. The chair he’d been sitting in toppled over as he bolted toward the door. He could hear Jordan and Derek protesting, but he didn’t care; he had his bat and magic pulsing through his veins.

He didn’t know how he moved so fast, but he flew across the yard, racing for the figure he could see crouched and frozen.

She spotted him and straightened up. “Well, this is awkward,” she said, and leveled a gun at him.

Stiles was not normally an idiot, but no one messed with his patients. He barreled right into the crazy lady with the gun. He flinched when it went off, nearly deafening him, as they hit the ground in a tangle. He wrestled it from her hands and threw it off to the left, into the woods.

She reared back and punched him in the face, dazing him.

He came back swinging, managing to clip her jaw with her fist. He swore when she rolled them over, pinning him into the dirt with her knees on his arms. “Don’t! Touch! My! Patients!” He twisted his wrists under her legs and grabbed her calves, jolting electricity through her like a homemade Taser.

She screamed and fell off of him, trembling.

Stiles, panting, sat back.

There was a pouch on her belt, purple dust spilling out.

“What is that?”

“Death,” she spat.

“So the wolfsbane.” He lunged at her; her nails raked across his cheek, but he didn’t care, fumbling the pouch from her belt.

She kneed him in the jaw, knocking him sprawling.

He held up the pouch, triumphant. “I win—fuck!”

She tackled him, her knees plowing into his gut and winding him.

He clenched his fingers tight around the opening of the pouch, keeping it from spilling, and rolled. When she wouldn’t release her grip on him, he went with instinct and slammed his head forward, right into her nose.

She shouted in pain, putting her hands over her bleeding nose.

Stiles bolted to his feet and ran. He tripped over a root three yards in, cursing and holding the pouch close to his chest.

“Ha,” the woman said softly.

Stiles looked over her shoulder and swallowed audibly.

She’d found her gun, it looked like. She was aiming at him again.

He flexed his ankle and wondered if he would make it if he bolted to the left. He braced.

A shadow rose up behind the woman. “Kate, long time no see,” Derek said, reaching out and snapping her neck.

Stiles watched her body topple to the ground. He blinked. Looked at Derek. “Remind me to thank you later,” he said weakly. He turned and got sick in the dirt.

Jordan and Derek took Stiles to where they’d laid Loti on some brush, partially blocked from view by a tree.

From the water, the mermaid watched as Derek walked Stiles through the steps of curing wolfsbane poisoning. First heating the powder, then applying it like a lotion.

Loti immediately started squirming, becoming more aware of her surroundings and more aware of how much she didn’t want to be this close to Derek and Jordan.

She grumbled at them as she slunk back into the water.

Charlie was next, then the imp.

By the time they got back into the house, Stiles was exhausted.

“I’m going back to the hospital,” Jordan announced when they got to the porch.

Derek nodded. “Have fun. I’m sure Erica will try to rope you into going to the Christmas party.” He wrinkled his nose.

Jordan gave a shuddering sigh. “Probably.” He looked at Stiles, then back at Derek, one brow quirked. “Standard time off when you meet your soulmate is three days. Should I tell them you’ll be back then?”

Derek turned to Stiles, who was leaning against the side of his house.

Stiles shrugged. “You can stay here if you want.” The recent events made his typically loose brain-to-mouth-filter basically non-existent. “I’d like you to stay. So we can get to know each other.”

“Yeah, tell them I’ll be back Monday.” Derek stepped closer to the door, to Stiles.

The warmth and comfort radiating from his body had Stiles leaning toward him. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around his middle.

Derek hugged him back automatically.

Stiles sighed and sagged into his embrace. “Thank you for your help,” he muttered into his chest. Exhaustion washed over him. “Let’s talk tomorrow.” He closed his eyes.

Derek chuckled quietly and brushed his lips against the back of Stiles’s head. “Deal.”

#gswritings #stereksanta18 #*fic18 #*gifts18 #*late post because the mod is an idiot

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og-bbs-n-misfits-warriors-au · 5 years

Text

Chapter 4: Calling of Shadows

Braveheart and Kryozice were at the front of the group as they headed back towards camp. They all had received parts a vision that showed how to drive the crocodile out. “Can’t believe there’s a crocodile in the lake,” Braveheart mumbled. He knew how to spot and avoid them, but they would have to teach all the others clan cats how to avoid the large reptile. Not to mention it was a female, so soon a male would join her…along with her eggs she’ll have if said male finds her…

“How did it even get there?!” Brownstone growled.

“Maybe through Riverclan’s river,” Whiskerwish sighed, “I just hope no one has encountered it yet.”

“Me too…” Braveheart mumbled, “At least we know how to get rid of it.” The moment they walked into camp, they could feel a tense feeling in the air. Not to mention several cats were pacing around camp. “What happened?” Braveheart asked Tallheart as he entered camp.

Tallheart shook his head as he sat down. “Gingerthorn is gone…” He mumbled, “There’s a crocodile…in the lake…it got him…”

Braveheart’s heart sank, a horrified look on his face. They were too late… “Anyone else…?” Braveheart asked quietly.

“Greypaw saved Runepaw from getting mangled…but his paw is messed up…” Tallheart replied.

“We should have been back sooner,” Brownstone grumbled as he dug his claws into the ground, then shook his head and padded away while Whiskerwish raced to the medicine cats den to check on Greypaw. Braveheart watched as Alderflight, Shrewthorn, and Kryozice headed to the warrior’s den to rest. Icelegs and Shadowtail ran to the nursery to be with their kits, leaving Braveheart by himself. He walked over to the apprentice’s den to check up on Lionpaw and Jaypaw, only to find the two not there. He tilted his head. Were they outside camp? And if so, where? He sighed and got up, heading to the warrior’s den.

Lionpaw and Jaypaw raced through the forest, running as fast as they could. They had been told by Sagepaw that the gathering was tonight, so they had to tell Catclan. As they ran, they didn’t notice some Windclan cats watching them and following from a distance. “Focken crocodiles!! Why are they just appearing?!” Lionpaw hissed. This lake was a perfect home for them, yet they never made an appearance.

“Don’t know, don’t care right now!” Jaypaw growled, “We need to tell Catclan!”

They kept running, trying not to get tired. It didn’t help that the air was freezing cold and snow was still on the ground, which made running difficult. “HOLD IT!” A voice yowled. Lionpaw and Jaypaw skidded to a halt and slowly turned around. Wishingfern and Omegawraith slowly walked towards the two, curious looks on their faced. “Why are you out here? You’re on the other side of Windclan territory,” Wishingfern frowned.

“W-We…” Lionpaw gulped.

Jaypaw lowered his head. They would find out eventually, so Jaypaw decided to spill the beans, “We…we were going to Catclan, who’ve moved near the horseplace. We were going to tell them about the lake and the crocodile…”

Wishingfern and Omegawraith blinked, confused looks on their faces. “A new false clan…? Wonderful…” Wishingfern sighed.

“I don’t know, they might not be that bad,” Omegawraith suggested.

Wishingfern shook her head, then paused. She spun around and snarled as three dark forest cats appeared. “Lost little medicine cat?” One sneered. A fourth appeared, and this one made Wishingfern’s eyes widen in horror.

“Run,” Wishingfern whispered to her apprentice.

“What do you mean-“ Omegawraith was cut off when Wishingfern pushed him back.

“GO!” She yowled, charging at the fourth. The dark tabby tom with red eyes glared at her and flicked his tail, watching as the medicine cat was mauled by his dark forest cats.

Omegawraith, Lionpaw, and Jaypaw took off just as Wishingfern charged, running as fast as they could to the horseplace. Omegawraith didn’t know what became of his mentor, nor could he stop to find out. He just ran alongside apprentices, panting as he used his hearing to navigate. It wasn’t moon high, so he couldn’t take his blindfold off. He let out a yelp as he suddenly tripped over a root, groaning as he stood up and kept running. He bumped into a cat much larger than himself and fell backwards. “Where do you think you’re going, twoleg?!” The cat snarled.

Omegawraith gulped and crouched down. Lionpaw and Jaypaw looked stunned. Omegawraith was a twoleg like them? “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lionpaw snarled, lunging at the big cat.

The cat yowled in pain before throwing Lionpaw off and onto a rock. “You’ll pay for that!” The cat hissed.

“Not if we can help it!” A familiar voice snarled as Catstar leaped out of the bushes, “CATCLAN, GET THE SHADOW CATS!” Before any of the dark forest cats had time to react, Catclan burst from the bushes and launched a massive attack against them. The dark forest cats yowled in both pain and anger as the cats managed to out fight them, killing them off.

Flintclaw ran over to Lionpaw and Jaypaw, “Good to see you two again, even if it’s during a fight,” He purred as the rest of the dark forest cats fled, “The shadow cats are growing in numbers, and I don’t like that.” “What are you even doing here?” Runningwind asked.

“We came to warn you about a crocodile in the lake!” Jaypaw immediately replied, “Plus the gathering is tonight, but mainly the crocodile!”

“We already know about the croc,” Catstar meowed as she walked over, revealing Runningwind’s tail once she, “It took half of it…”

“I want that thing to drown,” Runningwind grumbled.

Lionpaw frowned, he had bad news for him. “Thank you for telling us about the gathering, we’ll be there.”

“Wait!” Omegawraith spoke as he ran to Catstar, “Please! My mentor held back some of the dark forest cats to help us escape! Her name is Wishingfern!”

“We’ll search for her,” Flintclaw replied, “But I doubt that she survived…” Omegawraith’s heart sank.”

#Warriors #warrior cats #BBS warriors au #Misfits Warriors au #Book 4: Defending Ideals #Series 1: Origin #goodguyfitz #Smii7y #ohmwrecker #mccreamy #Zuckles

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mizu-writes-kumo · 6 years

Text

Well a beast has been a woken. I best see it through, or it will never rest when I need it to.

More Mafia Shance AU. Here are Part 1 and Part 2 (But this is a prequel to them so you don’t have to read them first to understand anything in this one).

Or you can read it here on AO3

Warning: mentions of past murders, violence, cursing, and assassination attempts.

Lance prided himself on his work.

His skills were the best in his family for what he did.

Which was saying something. Because Veronica was wicked smart, business savvy, and the princess of manipulation, groomed to take over when their parents decided to hand over the reigns. Marco was good with the running supply lines, and insuring more than a rich steady income for their family. Luís was good at sniffing out any possible threats to the family and anyone trying to steal from them, among other things.

Lance had little to actual offer their family business.

Sure he was smart, but not to the level of his sister. And he had more than a charming and alluring personality, but his brothers already had that department of people more than covered.

Leaving Lance with little to actually be useful with.

That was until Lance found out how easy it was for him to draw people in and “handle” them for his family.

It started when Luís discovered a well-liked Lieutenant of their’s was stealing and undermining all of them. Out right handling him wasn’t a usual opinion for any of them, as the man had painted Lance’s siblings out to be paranoid freaks out to get him simply because they didn’t like him. But Lance had seen the way the man watched him, both at gatherings and just in general.

And it was so easy, to suggest they go to the beach late at night. Stripe down to barely anything and swim out to a nearby sand bar. Make light conversation about sharks in the water, and how he was so glad he wasn’t out there alone in the moonlight. And lean in so breathless for a kiss, and stab the man right in the gut and twisting the knife.

Lance ditched the knife in the water and swam away before the man could get over his shock. Only his sister caught him sneaking back in to the house, and seemed to half buy his story of meeting some tourist girl at the beach for...well the usual teenage fun. quietly muttering he should be careful before shooing him off to bed.

The body washed up three days later, mauled and chewed on by local sharks. Lance’s handy work hidden underneath them.

No one was the wiser.

Until Lance made one sly comment.

Something about how the man had coming , especially swimming at night with sharks. All behind a glass of water and a knowing prideful smirk. It was then that Veronica figured just what Lance had done so effortlessly for them.

Lance had been fifteen at the time.

Now five years later, he was on the best there as out there in his field.

So much so those who work for his family fear him. Whispers of how the McClain’s will sent their Tiburón to handle their problems. How they should all be careful not go get blood in the water. How he struck in the dark when no one expected him and kept moving. His mother and siblings actively advertised his skills and services to other contacts for their use or problem solving needs.

All of which had gotten Lance to a rooftop in New York during the middle of winter.

Lance was freezing his ass off.

“Ah, mi hijito, we have an easy job for you in New York.” Lance mimicked his mother’s voice as he spun the silencer on his rifle. “Yeah, sure easy job.” Lance grumbled to himself. “So easy. Spending my whole weak here doing research and recon, while freezing my little behind off. So fucking easy.”

Carefully he positioned his rifle on the edge of the rooftop.

He did a quick visual sweep with the scoop. Just to make sure there weren’t any vehicles lingering. Like an obvious surveillance van or unmarked cop car. Because that was the last thing he needed. But it was clear as the last five times he checked.

“I didn’t get to see one damn sight.” Lance complained.

Because it was suppose to be an easy job. A simple get in get out sort of thing. Where Lance barely was required to do anything. And he could spend his week how he pleased, seeing the sights, eating the food, going to a play, and exploring the city.

But then the client had...well demands.

It had to look like a rival gang’s did it. Like they made a hit, which happened to translate to not that clean of sniper shot. No one could suspect it was them at all. And it had to be done specifically at the end of the week. And no, he wasn’t going to get paid more for his troubles.

“I hope this bastard is fucking worth all the effort and grief.” Lance continued with a huff as he moved the rifle to take aim through a window. “I mean really, it’s all so unnecessary.”

Lance glanced through his scope at his target.

The guy was like maybe a few years older than him. Six or seven years at the most if Lance had to take a guess. Tall, and built in a tasteful way that Lance more than appreciated. A large scar across his nose, from something Lance could probably only imagine was horrible. Black hair save a tuff of white at the front. Seating down with what looked like a sorry excuse of a dinner.

Honestly, an attractive guy Lance would have liked to have some fun with before offing him.

But no, he had to make a skilled sniper shot look crappy.

Which just felt like an insult to Lance and his skills.

Lance would see that the client was blacklisted from doing any business with his family in future. He knew they would listen to him. After all Lance was the baby of the family, he could supply no reason what so offer, and they would do it because he asked, and that was a reason enough alone.

Taking in a breath, Lance carefully took aim.

Releasing the breath slowly to calm his whole body. Exhale on the tension in his system. Slow his heart rate down just for a few seconds to do what he needed to do.

Then he eased the trigger back, fired and...

Missed.

Fuck!

The guy moved at the last second, dropping something on the floor and moved to pick up it. A dying plotted plant exploded as the bullet hit it. The man whipped around to the window quickly.

Lance dropped down onto his back on the roof.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

This was not good.

Lance laid on the rooftop staying at the sky for a few moments. Trying to both catch his breath, and scrambling to figure out his next move.

There was a chance the guy hadn’t pin-pointed where they shot came from yet. A quick and easy way to test that was to wave something up to see if it got shot at. But if they guy didn’t know where Lance was, well that might quickly become a being neon sign of ‘Look here I am’

And maybe, if Lance was quick enough and luck more than on his side. Lance could roll back off and fire off a few more shots. Maybe actually hit the guy before he was spotted.

Or he could just ditch the roof all together. And head across the street to handle the situation more intimately. Lance already had a few breadcrumbs plated to point to the rival gang anyway that he would have to plant in the apartment anyway.

Yup, that was the better option.

Quickly rolling away from where he was laying, Lance ditched his rifle. Keeping low as he made his way towards the fire escape and quickly scaled down it. Giddily landing in the alleyway as he pulled out his hand gun to check it, and saw he had the forethought to already put the silencer on it.

Lance hurriedly booked it across the street.

Again, happy to discover the guy was either hiding from possible shots, or still looking to rooftops. Making it so easy for Lance to slip into his building with nothing more than a passing bring at some old lady and her dog.

He quickly made his way up the stairs towards the man’s apartment. A trek he had practiced more than a few times. Both to familiarize his face with other’s living there, so he would become nothing out of the ordinary for them, and know exactly where to go in a situation like this.

Lance dipped a hand down into his pocket for the spare key he had been given to the apartment door. Gripping his pistol tightly with the other as he eased the key in. Twisting it in the lock as slowly and soundlessly as it would allow, for tearing open the door.

The man is huddled behind his over turned table when Lance opens the door. Quickly taking aim and firing at him as he shut the door behind him. And Lance would loved to have said he got the guy right then and there.

But not, the man was like lightening.

Moving out of the way of Lance’s shots, which forced Lance to follow after him for a clear shot. Step further into his apartment. Then the man charged and tackled Lance to the ground. Knocking the gun out of Lance’s hand with more ease than the assassin would have liked.

Fuck!

Lance squirmed under the guys hold.

He wasn’t the best at hand to hand fighting. At least not when it wasn’t somewhat on his terms. Lance could easily knock someone out three times the guys size, but usually he had them ogling at something. This guy was on him and Lance had no leverage.

“Who hired you?” The guy demanded in a growl, pressing his weight down into Lance’s chest.

“Not at liberty to say, I’m afraid.” Lance stated cheekily with a grin. “Assassin-Client privilege.”

And then Lance kicked the guy in the hip, and throw a wild punch to get him off.

He rolled with the punch and scrambled to his feet. Darting for the kitchen where his gun skidded off to. But he’s ankle was grabbed before he could reach it. Pull out from under him.

Lance cursed as he grabbed on to a counter top to stop himself from falling.

Fine, looked like he was going to settle for what he could grab. Which, to Lance’s luck happens to be a knife from a set. He grabbed a handle of one as swing wildly at the man, who barely leaned back enough to dodge it. A look of surprise on his face, Lance took a little satisfaction in.

But it was short lived.

The man grabbed his wrist. In one quick movement, spinning around to elbow Lance in nose. Knocking him into the opposite side of the small kitchen. Twisting Lance around in his daze, and pinning him down over the counter top, with a sharp yank of Lance’s wrist to drop the knife.

“I’ll ask again,” The man spat out venomously. Which if Lance wasn’t in his current situation, he would have found very hot. Another painful tug of the wrist when Lance refused to let go of the knife. “Who hired you to kill me?”

Lance growled in reply.

The man, he has a name and Lance knows it but refuses to use it, twisted Lance’s wrist so the knife point was resting against Lance’s back. “Answer the question, before I stop asking nicely.”

“This is you asking nicely?” Lance asked smartly.

“Who. Hired. You.” The man growled out each word. Leaning over Lance more and more with each word. “I get the feeling you were the one the took the shot at him earlier to. So tell me who hired you to take me out.”

Lance surged up. Slamming his head into the guys nose, and breaking free in his shock and pain. He whipped around, holding the knife at the read as the man staggered back across the kitchen with a loud curse.

“Son of a--”

Lance charged the man. Managing to get in a few good swings with the knife in hand, before the man grabbed his wrist again. This time prying the knife out of Lance’s fingers before kicking him away. He tossed the knife aside as Lance failed to keep his balance and toppled onto the floor with a wheezing grunt.

“I’ll pay you double what whoever hired you is paying.” The man stated calmly.

Lance paused and raised an eyebrow at the guy.

Looking around his apartment, the guy didn’t look like he had much money to his name. Most of his furniture looked older, handed down to him, or found. Only a few things looked new and moderately expensive. But there was nothing in the apartment to suggest the guy any true money to throw around.

Which, given what little Lance knew about him, was probably not true. The guy was a rising Lieutenant in his clients gang, with a new seat at the table. And given that Lance’s client was trying to cross him off, meant he was decent competition.

So the guy had money somewhere.

“You are going to just double $25,000?” Lance asked skeptically.

The guy looks rather surprised by the number. Not in a way that he can’t meet it, let alone double it. More so amazed someone would pay that much to cross him off.

“Whoa, that’s a lot, why is it so high?” The guy asked with his brows knitting together in confusion.

And oh how Lance wished he could have played.

“My services aren’t cheap.” Lance returned confidently as he eased himself to his feet, slowly. Not missing the way the guys eyes ran over his whole form almost hungrily. “Ever heard of El Tiburón?”

“You’re Tiburón?” The guy asked with a cut little puppy tilt of his head. “You’re younger than I would have expected.”

“I’m that good.” Lance grinned out.

“You missed,” the guy pointed out stupidly.

Lance bristled at the words. “I didn’t miss! You fucking moved at the last second.”

“That still fits in the description of missing a shot.”

Lance growled sharply, before charging forwards. The man’s eyes went wide for a second, as he realized his mistake, and braced himself as Lance rammed into them. Stumbling backwards, before falling to the floor under the force of Lance’s momentum.

The two wrestle on the ground for a bit.

Before the man managed to pin Lance down. Holding both of his hands over his head with one hand. And trapping Lance’s legs under his body weight. Glaring down at Lance sharply, until he stopped struggling too much.

And damn, did the man always had stormy colored eyes like that.

“I’ll pay you double, if you stop trying to kill me and tell me you hired you.”

Lance glared up the man for a moment.

The he sighed.

He already knew his mother would be pissed if he killed someone offering to pay more money then the original offer. Lance’s reputation be damned, business was business. And besides, Lance already settled on making sure his family never did business with the first client anyway.

“An asshole named Sendack hired me to take you out.” Lance said easily.

The man frowned above Lance in an almost knowing matter.

“I see there is a mutual dislike.” Lance observed lightly. “Can’t say I don’t understand why. The asshole made me do all this work to make it look like it was a rival gang. I didn’t get to see any of the city I was so busy doing his dirty work, with no extra combination for my grief.”

“Oh, woo is you.” The man said rolled his eyes.

Lance pouted up at him.

“Can you let me up now?” Lance asked suddenly with a huff. “As fun as this position is, unless your going to show me a good time, I would rather not keep lying around in it.”

The man looked down, for a second confused by what Lance meant. Lance was half tempted to roll his hips to get his meaning across. But then it seemed to register in his head and blush dusted his cheeks.

“Promise not to try to kill me?” He snapped roughly as he looked back up to Lance’s face.

“Promise to pay double my fee?”

A moment of thick silence laid over them.

Each of them searching the other’s face for a lie. Or some kind of trick. After all in their line of work they could never be too careful.

Eventually though, the man let go of Lance with a huff. Shoving off of him with a growl and a mean look. One Lance didn’t even wither under one bit. After all, the only person Lance was truly afraid of was his mother, and she was miles away.

Lance slowly got to his feet.

More than aware of the guy watching him slowly. So Lance made sure to make his movements clear and slow. So the man could clearly see what he was doing the whole time. And maybe not tackle him to the floor again.

Carefully Lance reached for his gun. Easily keeping his fingers away for the trigger as he picked it up from the ground. Then in a one quick movement, removed the clip, and tossed it on the counter. The man relaxed marginally in the corner of Lance’s vision.

Then with fluid ease, Lance removed the bullet in the barrel. Twisted off the silencer. And dismantled the gun half way. Resting it all down on the man’s counter with grace and pose.

“Relax, Mr. Shirogane,” Lance hummed as he adjusted his jacket back into place. The man stiffened at Lance’s use of his name. “I’m not going to do anything. My mother and sister would have my head if I did after your generous offer.”

“Yes, offering you double to not kill me is a generous offer.” The man, Shirogane, huffed in a growl.

“More generous that Sendack.” Lance countered easily with a shrug. Because that his all his family will really care about. Who paid them more to have Lance do something...or not do something. “He refused my extra fees when his job was not a simple as first presented.” Lance continued as he made his way towards Shirogane. “I didn’t like that.”

Shirogane hummed dryly as he watched Lance.

His gaze his careful and calculated.

Lance doesn’t blame him, he was after a known assassin in most dark circles. Not to mention the man that just tried to kill him a minute ago. He was more than ready to strike Lance down if he needed to.

But it was also eating Lance alive.

Swimming over Lance to take him all in. Almost undressed him with his gaze. Eyes easily trapped by the way Lance dipped his hips just a little. A test to see just how interested the man was in him. Lance knew he was alluring, but he wasn’t naive enough to think everyone by default found him attractive in the same way he might find them attractive.

And Lance can’t say he was returning the favor of devouring Shirogane in the same way. If not more shamelessly.

“Of course, it doesn’t insure Sendack won’t try again.” Lance comment as he stopped just in inch or two from Shirogane’s toes.

He reached up to pick off some dust that had collected on the shoulder of Shirogane’s shirt. Dropping it to the floor beside them, as he felt Shirogane’s gaze sharpen on him. Lance hummed absently as his hands took to adjusting Shirogane’s shirt, with delicate, feathery touches of his fingers. Before he turned his eyes up to meet the older man’s.

“I doubt he’ll want to use me again when he finds out.” Lance stated, and he wouldn’t be hurt like that. It would take little to squish rumors that Lance couldn’t do his job. “But, I also get the feeling his is more brawn than brains, and desperate enough. So I wouldn’t be ultimately surprised if he tried to double your offer to get me to kill you again.”

“Fair point.” Shirogane said flatly.

His face blank and controlled as he looked down at Lance.

“Which leaves you two options.” Lance hummed, delicately tapping a button on Shirogane’s dark shirt. “One, is you keep doubling Sendack’s offers. Until one or both of you run yourselves dry of money. Or my family grows frustrated of the back and forth with little money gained, and have me off both of you.” Lance said with a slight frown.

Because for some reason he doesn’t really want to off this Shirogane guy.

Something about him speaks out to Lance in a way different from anyone else ever before. And it’s not just because Shirogane feels like he would be a fun person for Lance to play with. Or because Lance really doesn’t like the Sendack guy, and if he can undermine him for double the pay, well Lance was all on board. Lance couldn’t really describe was it was, just that it was there.

“Or?” Shirogane asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Or, you make yourself valuable to my family.” Lance stated silkily, as he ran hand over Shirogane’s chest. Feeling the man’s heart beating under his fingertips. “I am sure, your little organization has something my family could use, and vise versa." Lance added easily as he leaned in bit into Shirogane’s space. Snaking his other hand up his torso as well. “You present an offer double Sendack’s original, and new strong source of revenue and partnership. Well, then suddenly you have favor on yours side over all else."

Shirogane blinked at Lance, more than curious.

Lance ran a hand heavily down Shirogane’s chest. “It would be like insurance.” He stated airily. “My family has sway with many other organizations. They’ll listen to my family more than any money Sendack might throw at them.” Lance hummed as he glanced down at Shirogane’s chest before flicking back up to meet his gaze. “Not to mention that makes you look good to your boss as well.”

“You’re surprisingly good at this.” Shirogane commented lowly.

He suddenly grabbed one of Lance’s wrist before his hand could travel down to his pants. The hold tight and firm, but not actually painful in anyway.

“I’ve played a hand in enough internal politics to know how to play.” Lance returned offhandedly. “Especially against people I don’t like.”

Shirogane smiled down at Lance.

Lance raised an eyebrow at the taller man. “What’s got you smiling?”

“You’re helping me in this.” Shirogane observed lowly, his dark stormy gaze fixed on Lance fiercely. “Which means you must like me.”

“I am...interested in you.” Lance admitted smoothly.

Shirogane hummed down at Lance.

Then he let got of his wrist with something of a smirk. And goddamn the heavens must really be testing him in someway.

“It sounds like I really only have one choice then,” Shirogane said.

He took a slight step back. Moving out from under Lances hand, much to Lance’s disappointment. Making his way over to cabinet cross the kitchen near the sink.

Lance watched him as he silently pulled out to glasses from the shelf, and grabbing a half empty bottle from the counter. Easily pulling it open and pouring a generous amount of a dark liquid into each cups. Then holding one out for Lance to take from him.

“Well, there is a third option.” Lance stated as he walked over to join Shirogane. Taking the cup in a way that their fingers brushed against each other. “But I’m not foolish enough to think it will happen in one night.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” Shirogane asked from behind his glass curiously.

Lance knocked back half the drink with something of ease.

It was a power move Marco and Luís had taught him years ago. When he wasn’t really allowed to drink heavy liquors, but they were his older brothers. They wanted him to be able to down anything put in front of him with ease. As according to them, sipping was a way of stalling during meetings, or a weak throat.

Of course, whatever Shirogane poured, was far stronger than anything Lance and his brothers would practice with. Far different from Rum, tequilas, and cognacs they would drink. So it didn’t go down as smoothly, but he still got it down with grace and pose.

Lance lets out a hot breath before before moving into Shirogane’s space.

If he wasn’t going to kill Shirogane anymore, there was no reason for Lance not to have all kinds of fun with him.

A hand sprand up against his chest again. As Lance leaned forward on the tips of his toes. Gribbed the collar of the man’s shirt, giving it a sharp little pull. Breathing heatedly against Shirogane’s ear for good measure, before...

“You become something valuable to me.”

And somehow, that was exactly what happened that night anyway.

----

AN: Ta-da. So, this is how Shiro and Lance meet in this AU.

And yes, both of them like literally feel in love over night (I am a cliche like that), but didn’t exactly “get together” until months later when Lance moved to New York to be with Shiro.

I do plan do to another prologue fic of how they got there kids, but I’m still figuring out how I want it to happen. So not sure when that will happen.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

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ambrosiaswhispers · 6 years

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AUFDTD - Story One: First Impressions

Okay guys - So this is the first Mini-story for my AUFDTD/HP world. This has been a long time coming. I hope you like the stories as I release them. If you missed the preview story that’s here. And all stories will be tagged with the AUFDTD - which is noted on my page. This first one is just to give you guys an idea of the characters and where they’re at. There are going to be some fun surprises in this series. Thank you for supporting my works.

Story One: First Impressions

Richie’s muttering woke him up and Seth tossed a pillow in his brother’s direction, swiftly dodging it as it boomeranged as nearly collided with his own face.

“Asshole.” Snickered the creature hiding on a shelf above Richie’s bed, its eyes reflecting eerily in the predawn light.

“Asshole is right.” Richie muttered sleepily fumbling for his glasses, “Why are you throwing your pillow at me, again?”

“Did you enchant this damn thing to hit me in the face?” Seth snarled shaking the traitorous feather-filled thing at his brother, who was still trying to find his glasses.

Richie chuckled despite his plight, “Only if you threw it at me first.”

“Fix it!”

“Quit throwing shit at me.” Richie countered, before requesting, “Azil, can you see my glasses?” The grey Jarvey wound himself down from the shelf and delivered a pair of glasses to the younger Gecko. “Thank you.” He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lenses. “Wait, why are you up so early?”

“You. You are why I’m up so early.” Seth grumbled dropping the original pillow to the ground and flopping back onto the remaining pillow that he now only sort of trusted. “You were talking in your sleep. It woke me up.”

“’Cause you never wake me up with that.” Richie stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck. “Our separate sleeping quarters will be ready tonight. I’m gonna grab a shower before everyone starts getting up.”

“Knock yourself out.” Seth closed his eyes, hoping to get a little more shut-eye before the orientation shit-show started.

“You didn’t need come back you know. You got all your credits last year, and with who we are, they would have let you do your teaching courses part-time. You could have stayed on the other side.” Richie stood in the doorway, looking much smaller than his six-foot-two-inch frame.

Seth sat partway up and sighed, “You’re here; I’m here. Besides, someone has to keep you from blowing your fool-self up.”

“Whatever you say, brother.”

He sighed and attempted to get comfortable, before hearing a distinctive ripping sound. He opened one eye to stare down the Clooney, who was ripping the hell out of the maroon and gold scarf. “Really?”

The mostly-black Crup snorted and gave the item another good tare.

“You know I really don’t care if you didn’t like her or how she smelled. If you cock-block me again, you’re gonna go stay with Eddie on the other side.”

Clooney flashed his teeth at Seth before rolling on his back and yawning, as if bored by the threat.

“I knew I shoulda docked your damn tails for real.” Seth closed his eyes again and attempted to get that last hour or so of sleep he so desperately needed to deal with what today was going to be.

.:.

Kate Fuller had never been happier in her life; never. She’d spent the last four years studying magick from home, doing triple the homework, and only coming here during breaks for testing. To see the campus alive and full of others studying like her was so exciting. She wouldn’t have changed the last four years, though. The last four years had been hard, but her family was the most important thing. After years of secretly treating her mother when her father wasn’t looking, her mother’s illness was finally cured. And nothing short of a miracle, her father agreed to let her study the magick that ran wild in his family, but somehow skipped him.

The only thing that made her slightly sad was that most everyone here knew each other and it was going to be hard to be the new girl in her technically second to last year of required training. Thankfully, Hufflepuffs were known for being inviting by nature so she at least was going to make friends in her house. She smiled at the sunshine and the activity buzzing around her. How could anyone not love the busy environment?

“Hey, you’re the new girl, Kate, right?” A smiling red-head offered her hand to Kate. “I’m Holly, I’m supposed to show you around, but you already know the campus don’t you?”

Kate shook the girl’s hand. “Yeah, I’ve been here every summer for testing. They made exceptions for me because my mother was so sick.”

“Well, it’s totally different being here during the school year. Way crazier and lots more fun.” Holly winked and they made their way across the courtyard. “So are you doing advanced studies? Or training to be a teacher?”

“Well, I’m taking advanced classes this year and after that I haven’t decided yet.” Kate paused by the fountain and admired the way the water jumped back and forth – it was always off during the summer.

“Do you have your class schedule?”

Kate finished the paper out of her cloak’s inner pocket and handed it over, watching Holly’s eyes scanning it quickly.

“You are gonna have a lot of Ravenclaws and Slytherins in those first two classes. Oh and that first one…yikes, that’s a super small class I think mostly Slytherins.”

“Oh, I don’t really mind other ho…”

“No, no no….I didn’t mean it like that.” Holly waived away Kate’s concern about her opinions on other houses and continued. “But have you ever seen a Slytherin when they’re stuck in a morning class? Seth Gecko blew out a window once when his lab partner accidentally spilled his coffee. It was nuts.”

“Gecko…” Kate bit her lip, that name sounded awfully familiar. “Is that family famous for something?”

“Infamous is more like it.” Holly hopped up and sat down on the fountain. “Ray Gecko was super powerful, but into all kinds of dark magicks and supposedly that’s how their mother died – some kind of fight, but they were on the other side when it happened, so no one knows the real story. Of course, the brothers aren’t all bad.”

Kate cocked her head to the side, “Well, it wouldn’t be right to judge them for what their father did.”

Holly let out a little laugh, “I meant they are super nice to look at. Even though Seth’s grouchy and kind of a womanizer. And Richie’s well…I don’t know what he’s about, but if there’s trouble going on, then it’s probably one of them. Come one, we should get you settled in.”

They started back to through the courtyard when a chorus of screams echoed in the air and Kate Fuller was staring down the largest, darkest colored Crup she’d ever seen.

.:.

“I can’t believe you left the damn door open.” Seth was yanking his gloves on as he and his brother sprinted down the halls. “He’s gonna eat someone.”

Richie was managing to keep up and still finish tying his tie, “Crups only attack Muggles, so unless someone snuck in, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Seth shouldered the door open, not bothering to acknowledge the other student, who squealed in surprise at nearly being hit and kept moving towards where he’d heard the screams. “Hufflepuffs are basically a Muggle and the yelling came from the main courtyard. So I’d say we’ve got reason to worry.”

As they made their down the steps and a blonde in a bright blue coat brushed by between the brothers as she ascended the stairs. “Good Day, not always dangerous Geckos.”

“Wait what?” Richie went to turn around, but Seth grabbed his arm.

“Focus. Devil dog – ten year secret about his tails, potentially mauled underclassmen, and us in an other-worldly amount of trouble.” Seth growled as they continued forward.

They both skidded to a stop in front of one of the school’s fountains, which several of their classmates had jumped into, in terror at seeing Clooney sans his masters.

But one of the girls, brown-haired and wearing those stupidly bright colors, was crouched in front of Clooney. “Well, what’s your name, Handsome?”

Seth winced waiting for the impending growl or bite but was shocked to hear the girl giggle. He was dumbfounded at the fact that Clooney was actually letting the girl scratch his ear affectionately.

“You’re such a sweet boy. Is this your person? He looks pretty worried.” She stood up and offered her hand to Seth. “I’m Kate Fuller.”

“Seth Gecko.” He shook it on reflex.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?!?” He snatched his hand back with a growl, he knew that look. She heard his damn name and now had she opinions about him. “Forget it. Come on, Clooney.” He turned on his heel and marched back towards his room with the creature on his heels.

“I’m Richie, sorry about him.”

“Richard!” Seth snapped and his brother caught back up with him in a flash.

“What the hell was that about?” Richie adjusted his glasses. “Clooney’s a good judge of people, if liked her, she’s probably fine.”

“Well, the mutts wrong this time. You take him, I’ll be back later.”

“Am I covering for you too?”

Seth shrugged as he walked away, “Do whatever you want. This day cannot end soon enough.”

.:.

Not sure how I feel about this as a whole - but here we go. Again I hope you enjoy reading. Love to my Loves.

#aufdtd #here we go #magical geckos #who was that girl?#what is grouchy mans problem?#Kate just wants to be be around people like her #Clooney has opinions about his masters company #devil dog #craziness inbound #I really hope you guys enjoy this #thank you for reading #sethkate #slytherpuff

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belladonnaandulriched · 3 years

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amped and wired, part two | chapter twenty-one: victim to villain

I had no idea how to get across the ice without one of them falling on their asses, and besides, when we reached that doorway, we were met with all of those clones in question. Hundreds of them, each with bright glowing eyes.

I thought back to when Lars belted one of those in the head with the pair of skates. I had a hockey stick, and three of those clones were no match for it. But I figured it was better if we went the other way, instead of having to fight through them and fall right on our asses on the ice all the way.

Indeed, that corridor brought us back to the hospital, where the plants were meeting with pieces of flesh. As the soles of my sneakers padded on the hard floor underneath me, all I could think about was Maya and Candace. Two girls who had entered my life almost on accident, and there I was having to save them. I had to let them die first, which made it feel fruitless of course, but I knew I was going to save them.

I skidded across the floor once we reached a corner. Lars followed, then Frankie and Charlie, Danny and Mrs. Hamilton, and lastly Angeline. Each step through the hallways of the hospital was marred with the noises coming out of the radar detector. They were in fact coming for us.

I had no idea where they could be, and in fact, I had no idea where the entrance even was. All I could remember was the Charlie shaped hole in the glass.

I felt like a Roman soldier with the hockey stick tucked under my arm. I was ready to beat any clones that tried to stop us from escaping.

What I wasn't ready for was the plants growing on the walls to lunge for my ankles.

A tendril wrapped around my right wrist to keep me from brandishing my hockey stick. Another thicker one took on my waist. Every inhale made it squeeze tighter and tighter, to where it felt like I couldn't breathe—

Lars lunged for the ones around my ankles as other tendrils took hold of Frankie, Charlie, Danny, and Angeline. Mrs. Hamilton managed to dodge them as she ran with Scott in her arms. I punched out my arms to try and fight them, but I looked down to find Lars chomping on the one around my ankle like an animal. He took a big bite out of it and spat it out once it released me. That weakened the others, so I was able to jerk my right arm away and swing my hockey stick at the main root.

He did the same for Frankie, Charlie, Danny, and Angeline: took a big bite out of the tentacle and then spat it out. Each time it released us.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then put his mask back on over his nose and mouth.

“Little lion man!” I declared, to which Lars shrugged at me.

“I try my best,” he confessed, and we all continued on running to catch up with Mrs. Hamilton, who awaited us far up ahead of the hallway. Once we reached there, I noticed it was the front of the hospital, and I recognized the Charlie shaped hole in the front door.

We each ducked through it and back outside to the darkening cityscape.

“There's the truck!” Mrs. Hamilton declared.

I had parked it across the street so no funny business would happen to the passenger window, but the window really was the least of our troubles at that point. I reached it first and chucked the hockey stick into the bed.

We all piled in with Angeline between me and Lars. I shut the door before anything else horrible happened.

“Shit—I dropped the keys!”

I bowed forward to pick them off of the floor underneath my right foot when something hit the side of the bed.

“Joey!” Angeline shouted right in my ear. The radar detector made another loud BEEP.

I picked the keys off the floor right then and stuck the one into the ignition.

“Motherfucking CLONES!” was all I could think of. The truck roared to life and I bolted out of there as fast as I could.

I didn't care about no speed trap. I only cared about getting the hell out of there and back upstate. I didn't care if it took us four hours, either. Four hours on a blank stretch of road was enough for us to rest and think about things before we took care of business again.

Once I had brought us to the outskirts of the City, I peeled off my mask and set it up on the dashboard in front of me. I fetched up a sigh and leaned back in the seat.

“That was close,” Frankie remarked.

“Yeah, I'll say,” I added. “Once all this is over, we're all eatin' Lars' big European breakfast.”

“That sounds yummy,” Mrs. Hamilton said from the back seat.

“How's he doin', by the way?” I asked her with a glimpse into the rear view mirror.

“Never flinched once,” she replied. “We weren't able to find John, though.”

“Hope he's alright,” I said.

We all fell into silence as we made our way through the woods towards Monticello and Binghampton. Some time before Syracuse, I felt my stomach churn. All I had before then was that glass of ginger ale. I hadn't eaten anything for who knows how long.

So once I recognized the skyline and the sight of the blue and green neon lights all over the tops of the buildings, I couldn't help but bring a hand there to try and ease the discomfort. But it was useless.

And it was even more useless when I noticed all the little communities surrounding Syracuse had that neon decorating them as if it was ghoulish Christmas.

I brought us back to Black Orchid with a good amount of fuel left, but I was running on fumes at that point.

I pulled up to the curb, and tugged on the parking lever, and killed the engine, and leaned over the steering wheel.

“You okay, Joey?” Danny asked me.

“Starving,” I told him.

“Hopefully there's something to eat in the kitchen,” Mrs. Hamilton assured me. I let out a long low whistle and climbed out of the truck first. My head started to spin again, but it was more from riding across the state without so much as ginger ale in my stomach.

We all filed into Black Orchid, and that was when I saw his long smooth hair as it streamed behind his head and the stern expression on his face, right there next to Gwendolyn and Louise.

“John!” Charlie declared.

“Huh? What? John's here?” Scott blurted out right then; Mrs. Hamilton propped him up out on the front porch, probably so he had some fresh air, but it was amazing he even heard that.

“How'd you get here?” Lars asked him.

“Rode a few clones all the way up from the city,” John replied, nonplussed. “The last one started malfunctioning and so I high tailed it from her. I walked like ten miles to here, and I spotted the orchid on the roof.”

“That thing does wonders, doesn't it?” I said.

“Sure does,” he remarked with a little bob of his head. “I got here like three hours ago and these two ladies were telling me everything that's been going on here.” He fixed his gaze on me. “You're a real hero, Joey.”

“Nah, you're the hero,” I told him. “You disappearing brought us to saving everything, including ourselves.”

“Joey, would you like some soup?” Mrs. Hamilton offered me.

“Yes, please,” I said. No sooner had I opened my mouth when the radar detector made a bunch of noises again.

“Clones!” Scott shouted from the porch.

“Oh, shit!” everyone shrieked all at the same time.

Fuck it. I ran towards the hallway to fetch Maya. I had to get rid of her to keep them from coming. But how was I to get rid of her?

“Be gentle with her, Joey!” Mrs. Hamilton called after me as I hurried up the stairs. Fueled by nothing more than adrenaline and ginger ale.

I stumbled into the bedroom just in time to see Mrs. Snow dissipating into nothing. I lunged for Maya's body.

There must have been some way to dispose of her and in the gentlest way possible. The voices from my dream told me to bury her.

Bury her. Of course!

I held her delicate little body close to me as I hurried back down the stairs and to the hallway. I darted through the front room of Black Orchid. John opened the front door for me.

“Thanks, man!” I told him, to which he flashed me a thumbs up.

But I didn't go further than three steps when I felt something tackle me from behind. I never let go of Maya even as I hit the ground. She groaned in her throat as I struggled to get up and out of the snow. Something was attacking me. Mauling me.

And then someone yanked it off of me.

Using nothing more than my own sense of balance, I climbed to my knees and then onto my feet. I glanced back to find John had yanked a clone off of my back. He chucked it to the ground to try and break it apart.

“Got some nerve tackling a lead singer like that!” Scott shouted from the porch.

“Run, Joey!” Angeline shrieked. “Run! Run as fast as you can!”

In the dim light of the neon, I saw a tear in Maya's skin, right where Mrs. Snow had put the new skin on. She was bleeding right there. Not my fault, but still.

“Sorry, Leela,” I said aloud as I ran into the darkness with Maya in my arms.

Back to the earth from whence she and I both came.

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lonely-little-lovely · 7 years

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The Stars We Sew pt 6

Wow I can’t believe I’m actually finally getting this out to the public I’m sorry I’m the worst but pt. 7 is actually already written so it should be out within a couple days I promise!

Chapter 1: https://morrigansss.tumblr.com/post/158572155526/the-stars-we-sew-pt-1

Chapter 2: https://morrigansss.tumblr.com/post/160844066961/the-stars-we-sew-pt-2

Chapter 3: https://morrigansss.tumblr.com/post/161335282431/the-stars-we-sew-pt-3

Chapter 4: https://morrigansss.tumblr.com/post/161514411076/the-stars-we-sew-pt-4

Chapter 5: https://morrigays.tumblr.com/post/161555667981/the-stars-we-sew-pt-5

The stone scraped along Kosmina's ax blade as she sat upon the bench, already in full armor, blades and twin short-swords sheathed and on her body. Vaughan was next to her as always, cleaning his sword, and across from them were Gavriel and Lorcan. "If the twins aren't here in half an hour, we leave without them," Lorcan instructed.

Gavriel glanced sideways at him. "If they stay here and Maeve asks where we are..."

"We'll already be gone," Mina said shortly, but she knew they were all hoping they wouldn't be summoned-specifically her. Something about her magic, her ability to winnow, made Maeve able to summon her from great distances. And this time, she would try her damndest not to respond to the order, if it happened.

The door opened and Fenrys and Connall entered. Fenrys looked slightly drunk, but Connall assessed them all with cool eyes. "What is this?"

"Rowan sent a message for help," replied Gavriel. "We're answering the call."

"Does her illustrious Majesty know of this message?" Fenrys sneered in a way that would usually have Lorcan leaping for him, but there was no time for bloodshed. Still, Mina could tell by the way Lorcan's hands clenched that the White Wolf would be paying for the insult to Maeve later on.

"No."

Connall cocked his head. "How many are we up against? And what are we up against?"

"Adarlanian soldiers," answered Mina. "They're using some sort of dark magic. If Rowan knows, he didn't specify. And we don't know what numbers we're facing."

"So let me get this straight," Fenrys drawled. "We're going behind Maeve's back, helping Whitethorn against numbers unknown and species unknown?" When Gavriel nodded, he shrugged. "You had me at 'behind Maeve's back.'" He shifted into his wolf, and after another pause of consideration, so did Connall.

Mina flipped her ax and tapped a finger against it, nodding at the sting that lingered on her skin. She stood and looked to Lorcan. "Should I winnow us?"

He shook his head, sheathing his sword, Adrius. "It'll deplete your power," he said, and that was true. It wouldn't deplete it all the way, but her misting abilities was always the most important in messy battles, which this was prone to be, and she'd need it for as long as she could. So she nodded. Lorcan stood and looked over them all, ready to fight for their brother in arms. He turned his gaze forward. "Let's move."

Darkness had already surrounded Mistward by the time they got there. They all skidded to a stop, and Lorcan immediately prompted, "Mina?"

She shook her head and almost didn't prevent herself from taking a step back. That darkness... "That is not right." Vaughan landed on her shoulder, but she scarcely felt it, too consumed with that dark cloud, with how it made her want to shrink away.

"Can you winnow us through it?"

Mina was about to say that she could try when there was a break in the fold- a beam of light that created a pathway. They started forward, Connall and Fenrys leading the charge, everyone else falling into rank behind them. When they got to the gate, everyone but Mina and Gavriel continued on, not even glancing at the princess bleeding on the ground. Aelin was fighting, and fighting hard, but... but she would die. In the end, she would die.

She looked to them. "He's inside," she choked. "Help him." When they both didn't move, she wheezed, "Go." Reluctantly, Gavriel turned and charged in, but Mina stayed, staring at the blood stained on the grass, somewhat familiar to blood stained on snow so long ago, in a different world. No one had come to help her. But she could try to help Aelin.

"Catch your breath," she said, and raised her hand. Her own darkness went slamming into that hostile wall full of such pain, such agony, and immediately, her vision faded.

“Kosmina.”

Maeve typically didn’t call her by her full name. It was always ‘My Mina’ or simply ‘Mina,’ because being called a nickname that meant so much to her was more of a taunt than the formal use of her full name. Now, the Queen didn’t bother with that.

Her eyes were narrowed to black slits, lips thinned, and she jerked her chin again to the man on the ground in front of the entire Court. They were so still, as if they didn’t know how to breath, and Mina wasn’t sure if she knew how to, either. “Kill him. Now.”

The order clanged through her, and some part of her was screaming and thrashing against it like a child, but already, the kill order was turning her red with blood lust. She hardly saw the Adrian she’d lain with and laughed with and loved. She only saw his throat, so ready to spill blood-

NO. She focused on the princess instead, whose eyes were wide, taking in her power. Rowan had not revealed what she could do, then. This. This is now, Kosmina. Focus on now. But now... now was the smell of burning flesh. That darkness was burning her fingers, up to her knuckles, to her wrist. A paper thin wall of fire slammed into her and she stepped back, immediately lowering her hand. The burning stopped. "What-"

"You're hurting yourself," panted the princess. "How long-until-those burns cover-your whole body?" Gods, she could barely choke out a sentence, and she still wanted to go up against these things?

"You are going to die," Mina told her. "But you know that, don't you?"

Aelin's eyes met hers, violet on that turquoise ringed with gold. I know. "Go." And Mina did.

If she had stayed a moment longer, she most likely would have refused and continued to fight until burns had scalded her entire body and she was screaming, not from the pain, but from the memories that dark cloud had her reliving. But she was not a martyr. She was a soldier. And she could not die. She refused to die. Not until she had just one inkling of hope that Rhys and Cassian and Azriel and Mor, that those she had loved so much, were okay in their world. It was selfish. But she was a selfish creature.

She winnowed next to Vaughan, who was currently impaling two soldiers on Mortemus, his sword. Ahead of them, the twins were mauling through torsos, biting off limbs. The blood was only stark against Fenrys' fur, but she knew it was on Connall's as well. She made a motion and Vaughan immediately ducked as her ax went flying into the forehead of a soldier behind him. There was a single, stretched out moment before his face imploded and he fell, and by that point, Mina was already winnowing for her ax.

None of the other blood sworn even flinched-it was something they'd seen countless times over the centuries. The enemy soldiers, however, along with multiple Demi-Fae fighting with them, looked around in bewilderment. This was the best scenario to winnow in, when no one expected her abilities. That way there was no chance of them anticipating where she would appear next.

She winnowed again, popping up behind soldiers until she found her typical rhythm. Winnow. Dagger up through the throat into the mouth. Winnow. Ax swing, fallen head. Winnow. Ax through the top of a skull. Winnow. Fenrys, Connall and Vaughan moved seamlessly around her, all of them working together, different organs of the same killing machine. There were typically more 'organs' with them, though. She could understand why Rowan was missing in action right now, but where the hell were Lorcan and Gavriel?

As if on cue, Lorcan bellowed, "KOSMINA!" from somewhere outside, seeming to shake all of Mistward with his voice. No other words followed, but the 'get the hell out here right this second' had been very obvious in his voice. Mina turned, ducking under the stroke of a sword and slamming her body weight into the leg of her opponent until it caved in on itself. He screamed, already stumbling, and she winnowed behind him, putting a hand to either side of his face (which had been freed from his helmet) and twisting, snapping his neck.

She got a look at his face when he fell to the ground, lifeless, and-Gods. He was a boy, a couple years older than she had been when her wings had been cut off at most. Just a boy, and Adarlan had sent him here. She wasn't really surprised, seeing as that Kingdom had obviously withered away into filth and corruption, much like this one, but she still had hoped she'd see no soldiers as young as this.

Lorcan bellowed her name again, followed by several vulgarities, and she turned, making eye contact with Vaughan. Keep driving them back. I'll return as soon as I'm able. He hadn't even finished nodding before she winnowed. She understood what her Commander had been screeching at her for the moment she materialized next to him. He and Gavriel had pinned Rowan down, and now hoisted him to his feet as he struggled.

His eyes found her, and somehow his rage increased tenfold. He knew why she'd been summoned. He knew Lorcan had called her to twist his emotions and calm him down. "Stay the fuck out of my head, Kosmina, or I will tear you apart with my bare hands."

She gave him a bored look before her eyes flicked to Lorcan, communicating with him the way the Bloodsworn could. His emotions are all over the place. You'd have better luck knocking him out.

We need him on his feet, Lorcan's eyes seemed to reply. The girl is dead. Those things will tire of her eventually and come for the fortress, which means we need to get the Demi Fae out. We have no time to haul the idiot around with us.

Gavriel stepped forward. Can you delay the darkness, Mina?

Her smile was bitter as she held up her hand. I already tried. Both Lorcan and Gavriel froze, staring at the burns as the seriousness of the situation washed over them. Darkness was her ally, her friend. And the fact that this darkness had attacked her was not very reassuring.

Light caught Mina's eye, and they all turned towards the cloud of darkness. Another beam of light arced out from in it, barely noticeable under the surface, but still there. "That's impossible," breathed Gav. "She burned out."

But the light redoubled, spreading until it was eating at pieces of that black power, and then...fire erupted from within. Mina hissed in a breath at the sight and cringed, stepping behind the additional shields Gavriel threw up. As a creature of the night, she wasn't overly fond of sudden bursts of light, but her eyes adjusted quickly enough. Standing in the middle of the barren space was Aelin Galathynius, eyes blazing fire. She'd survived? How in the hells had she survived?

Rowan shoved away from Lorcan and Gavriel's grip on him, and they let him go, eyeing the princess with mirrored looks of shock. Rowan broke into a sprint, heading for Aelin, and Mina snapped out of the trance the scene had seemed to put her in. She needed to get back into Mistward; they all did. There was no time to gawk at the light show going on in front of them. Besides, whatever Rowan was about to do wasn’t any of her business. So she turned, sprinting for the stone building instead of winnowing. She should have been relieved the princess has survived, or at least impressed. But all she felt was dread.

There was no way that Maeve was simply going to let a power like Aelin's slip through her fingers.

#wow I finally get my shit together #crossover fic #ToG/ACOMAF crossover #throne of glass #acotar #acomaf #acowar #queen of shadows #crown of midnight #heir of fire #empire of storms #aelin ashryver galathynius #lorcan salvaterre #rowan whitethorn #gavriel #fenrys and connall #rowan's cadre

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aaliyaeger · 7 years

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The SilverStripes

A long ass time ago, my girlfriend and myself made OCs: legit OCs in a world that is still nothing more than a concept, and could more than likely fit in a DnD very easily. I never write about them because I’m usually writing about my WoW ones, but today I got something out of both of them. Have some self-inserty goodness.

“They're getting braver, aren't they?”

Silvers spoke the snide sentence knowing he'd never get an answer from his partner, and he instead followed through with his previous motion of snapping the Spawn's neck idly. The horrible amalgamation of flesh and shadow nearly exploded as its spine crunched under his left hand's wicked grip, and the wispy flames of its gangly body immediately dissipated after its fiery death. Yet, the man showed no signs of being injured or slowed thanks to the dark gunmetal gray power armor shrouding his entire form. Complete with a mighty halberd swinging around in wide arcs, he was an absolute engine of destruction. Despite his intimidating visage though, his size still paled in comparison to the colossal orange tiger beside him, who was disemboweling one of the horrors with her back paws as her front ones pinned the screeching Spawn to the ground. Everything in a ten foot radius around both man and beast had been ravaged into a gruesome display of black-tinged blood and splattered gore, and the two bore the brunt of such violence.

And yet the Spawn kept coming.

Watchpoint Free had been under assault for at least a solid hour now, and the legions of corrupt beings that crawled and scrambled their way towards the walls seemed unending. Fatigue was starting to take its toll on the fresher recruits of the Watchpoint, their arms still shuddering from constant recoil even after they had given control of the defensive gatling guns to someone else. Much of the arid grass had been washed so thickly in black and red blood that it was hard to see their yellowing blades underneath the slick coat. And yet those creatures kept arriving, stumbling over the corpses of their fallen with the same mindless fury that lead them to the Watchpoint. Just how many did they have...?

“...No, something's definitely wrong,” Silvers grunted mostly to himself, impaling a Spawn through the chest with ease. The tiger beside him growled gruffly, but seemed to agree as she held her ground, circling around the knight almost protectively as he searched the waves of Spawn marching towards the base. These things liked to attack in huge numbers, but nothing of this variant – there had to be something bringing them in. A dropship? These things never showed enough intelligence to fly a rig before...

“Stripes, we need to check out that back line,” the armored figure called to the tiger, gesturing towards a vague direction somewhere behind all of the Spawn. “If we move fast, we can probably hit it before this point gets overrun. Let's head east and-”

Silvers was politely interrupted as the tiger immediately bounded straight into the Spawn front line, barreling passed the legions of demonic figures with the velocity of a lightning bolt.

“OKAY, THAT WORKS TOO!” the knight hissed, slowly starting to charge as he settled his halberd to his right and began to pick up speed. He wasn't anywhere near as fast as Stripes was, but as he crashed into the line of Spawn, the entire row of shambling creatures faltered as the centurion slammed into them, and went well beyond them. While the tiger could practically bound and bounce atop the Spawn with the same grace that belied her mighty claws, Silvers instead kept smashing through the ranks with unstoppable force, waves of vermillion sparks coursing over his armor as he kept plowing through the Spawn endlessly. For several seconds, the horrid beings somehow tried to slow him to no avail, and it was only after the knight found his tiger friend once again that he realized he was having a hard time slowing down as well. Where she had long since paused in a surprisingly open spot, Silver kept rushing through, halting only when he (and the three Spawn he had stabbed his halberd through along the way) crash-landed into the side of a wall-

Wait. A wall?

There were no other buildings in the once-lush region of Lune Foret besides Watchpoint Free, but Silvers couldn't deny that what he had just slammed himself into was definitely made of steel. When he finally was able to yank himself free of the crater he had made of the wall and the Spawn he just piledrived, he took a step back in confusion to gaze up at the colossal slab of metal. It was definitely a mobile base, but this thing was huge! How could he have possibly missed this after so many days of scouting around? Though, that bafflement paled when Silvers glanced to the middle of the wall, and noticed a crescent moon intertwined with a C:

The same PMC that owned Watchpoint Free.

“I gotta be seeing that wrong... that's not Crescent Commandos, is it Stripes?” Silvers spoke to the tiger lowly. The titanic cat merely growled in the same dark tone, her green eyes locked on the symbol as well. Mobile bases like this were common for science excavations, but were definitely not defensive enough for military conduct. And they weren't easy to pilot – surely the Spawn couldn't have driven it here. So what could have...?

A bellowing screech from behind the two warned that the same creatures weren't so pleased about two mercenaries being so far in their back line. With that, Silvers immediately reached for the keypad, and was surprised when the door opened easily for him. Regardless, he made the motion to enter inside the traitorous vessel – only to come face to face with even more Spawn. They were easily ripped apart by Stripes tearing through them, her long, razor teeth chomping them to shreds as the knight shut the door behind him.

“There's not enough room here to hold that many Spawn,” Silvers murmured gruffly, glaring around the dim halls warily. “How in the hell did they-” was about as far as he managed to continue before he halted himself and sighed wearily. Of course it had to be that simple.

The Spawn had to come from somewhere, and usually it was from their rifts in space that allowed them to enter the earth from their void of chaos and nonsensical energy. There was no possible way to enter such voidspace without being ripped apart by the millions of Spawn within, but at least the portals could be destroyed if the fleshlike gateways were butchered. Though, Silvers had never seen one so purposefully built for the interior of a Commandos' base, despite the one sitting so comfortably before him. Worse yet was the large hole-like depth into an eternal void of black sitting in the middle of the fleshy rift, which was warbling and shifting at random like a dark star. The knight wasn't sure how the Spawn were able to form a rift of this size inside of Commandos equipment, but there it was – and it needed to be destroyed.

“Go clear the way Stripes,” Silvers growled, hefting his halberd downward and cracking his neck. “I've got some cleaning up to do.”

The tiger grumbled dangerously, as if irked she didn't get to enjoy the killing blow herself, but the mighty beast regardless slinked away simply, that long tail of hers whapping against the square of his back as the knight snorted a laugh. Hopefully she wouldn't take that too much out on him later.

Whipping his polearm to the side, the mighty weapon suddenly rearranged loudly, the entire axehead suddenly cracking to the right to reveal a gun barrel, the wide bore ominously pointed at the warbling rift. Despite the sounds of slaughter and angry tiger behind him, Silvers hummed almost merrily, setting up his combine halberd with nearly mechanical speed. The void before him began to also angrily shift about, and snarls similar to those far outside were echoing from deep within. Yet, the knight seemed to have no such hurry, aiming up his modified rifle towards the base of the flesh arch almost casually. He tapped his foot almost idly, bobbing his head as if waiting patiently as a Spawn head splashed out of the rift viciously-

-and he pulled the trigger.

The knight barely had any time to register the explosion before he was hurled back from the force of it, the only reason that his halberd had not abandoned his grip was the magnetism forcing it to his palm. It was lucky that Stripes had left the door open, otherwise his back would have crashed against it. For quite awhile he flew, his power armor blaring warning signs of the heat and corruption smashed into the metal before his back hit the ground, and he skidded like a meteor into it. Several more feet were entrenched out before the man finally halted, and there was smoke still wifting off of his as he gasped in confusion. Usually those rifts weren't quite so explosive. Maybe he used the wrong round...?

Whatever the case, he was definitely dazed. It took him several seconds to realize there was a familiar furry head pointed curiously at him, and Silvers managed to wheeze out a short laugh.

“Hey babe. How was your day?” He mused jokingly, groaning a bit as he ignored the critical power warning on his armor. The worst enemy to his power suit tended to be himself.

Stripes growled dangerously, and then reared on her hind legs – and suddenly shortened. In only a scant second, where there was once a colossal orange cat about to maul the knight of the rest of his life, instead stood a red-haired woman in dark, nearly skintight leathers. Her green eyes, far too feral to be regular human eyes, narrowed even more lethally.

“Most of them scattered when the Rift dropped,” she replied almost with a hiss, kneeling down to dig one of her fingers into the center of his chestplate. “You're going to die doing that someday.”

“Hasn't -hah!- killed all of me yet,” Silvers laughed despite himself. It wasn't a humorful one – something about the ache in his chest forced the chuckle out of him. Regardless, he made no move to stop Stripes as her scarred, sharp-nailed hands reached for his helmet, and gently pulled it above his head. Silvers' own scarred visage came into view, complete with a tidy black beard and unnaturally crimson eyes. He smiled feebly, closing his sight as the other mercenary stroked his face.

“Do that and I'll pull you out of the grave just to beat your ass again,” she growled, but her green eyes flashed warmly. She leaned down to nuzzle her cheek against the man's own, another gentle catlike purr echoing from her as she did so. It was hard to tell if she was human first, or feline.

“Fair point. Just. Let me. Stand up so...,” Silvers started, and attempted to bring himself upward, only to give up halfway. He attempted this again, and then a third and fourth time. “Would LOVE to actually go back to base now.”

“I'll zuk ya deek if you-” was about as far as Stripes managed to tease before the knight suddenly pounced up as if there was a rocket in his back, apparently entirely reinvigorated by half of that sentence alone as he already rushed back to Watchpoint Free. Rolling her eyes with a sigh, the fiery-haired woman soon followed after him with a small smirk.

Too bad she meant if he helped clean up the base so she could sleep.

#Jaegerwrites

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