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nine-of-words · 7 months

Text

(Naga + Four of Swords)

M Naga x Demisexual M Elf Reader

Wordcount: 6004

Content Warnings: Old Injury/Chronic Pain, Scars, Religious Themes/Trauma, Cloacal Sex (Reader Tops); As a baseline, all Drakkith have both sets of reproductive organs and are typically bigender. Sometimes individuals choose to identify as solely one gender, as is the case with Salim in this story.

This one ran a little long, and personally I blame inherited catholic guilt.

Rain again today.

A loathsome drizzle.

You watch it patter down from your post by the door to the grand hall, the water pooling on the autumn leaf litter you haven’t had a chance to rake in days. You rub out your aching, fussy shoulder.

"My, it's really coming down out there. No end in sight.” Mother Abbess appears at your side and clicks her tongue, as if chiding the weather might make it stop. “And the station broadcast said because of the magical nature of this cold front, that it’ll carry on like this for several weeks. Weeks! Can you believe it, Ser?”

"Hmmh." You grunt in acknowledgement, not really feeling the desire to socialize; the burning ache from your shoulder to the fingertips on your casting hand- your former casting hand- is more than enough to turn you off from pleasant conversation. The rain only makes the aching and the stiffness worse.

"Perhaps it'd be smart to prepare some of the extra beds, just to be safe?" She says thoughtfully, in her usual cheery, warm tone. "Any travelers unfortunate enough to be caught on the road now will want to shelter here until this awful downpour finally stops."

You came to this temple to recover from the injury that took you out of service. Once a knight-sorcerer, you’re now, technically speaking, only a knight, and a very underworked one, at that.

You used to be able to help people. Now you are another glorified doorstop, guarding a sleepy temple that not a single beast nor bandit has dared to touch in the time you’ve been here. They seem to be repelled from the place, regardless of your presence.

The longer you’re here, the more you realize your recuperation time seems to not have an end. You come to suspect that you’ve been left here to rot.

You let out a long, withering sigh. You’re still far too young to have been politely yet forcibly retired in everything but name- shoved in a corner to collect dust. But while you crave the bloodrush of combat, you know that realistically, you would not be able to hold up the way you are now.

Evening meal time rolls around, the chattering of the young initiate priestesses carrying over even to the end of the long table where you solemnly eat.

“No, that’s impossible. You’re just making things up for attention-”

“I’m telling you, it’s haunted!”

Then Mother Abbess joins the table, interest sharply piqued.

“What’s this silly business I hear about ghosts in the temple? You know, our good knight goes to great lengths to make sure the temple is safe for all of us.” The older woman turns her attention to you with a playful smile; what you now know is her way of trying to rope you into joining in on the conversation, like a mother trying to goad her shy child into speaking up. “Have you seen any ghouls or spectres on your patrols lately, Ser?”

“Not one.” You shake your head, then continue to chew in silence.

“See ladies, there’s nothing to worry about!”

“No Mother, not the temple- the crypt. It’s coming from inside the tomb! We heard it!!”

“Hilde and I went to refresh the altar for the dead, like you asked, but- oh, the sounds! Banging, scraping, groaning like pain! It was far too terrifying. We ran back before we could even think of finishing.”

“Well, that’s no good. This certainly isn’t the time of year to slack on honoring the dead, either.” She taps her chin in thought with the hand not holding her spoon. “Ser, do you think you might be able to go check the crypt after supper? So we might have some peace of mind.”

Obedient as always, after you’ve eaten, you re-don your armor just in case, and slog out into the rain and water-logged mud, towards the temple for your obligatory ghost hunt.

You’re not going to find any ghosts, you’re sure. At most, perhaps a weak, trapped lesser spirit that can’t even communicate properly- but even that seems unlikely. At least the younger residents of the temple will be able to sleep soundly at night; that is enough of a reason for you.

The main door hangs ajar, left to creak as the wind moves it back and forth.

You click your tongue. The young sisters must’ve fled in such a hurry they left the door open. Still, you steel yourself and sharpen your senses despite the lack of obvious threat, just as your training has taught you.

You light the lamp and kick the excess mud from your boots before you descend the stone stairs into the darkness. You’ll take a look around, then you’ll be back up to the dry warmth of your bed, trying to sleep through the dull pain in your arm.

Inside, the crypt is dark, damp, and smells of old incense and lamp oil. The only thing that lives here is spiders and mold, surely. But the echo of your footsteps and the haunted atmosphere makes you feel starkly like you’re not alone here.

But in your search, you find nothing amiss. You only find the silence of the dead. Whatever was here must be long gon-

A noise in the silence, like a pained voice.

Was that a groan?

The hairs on your neck stand on end, your pupils constrict, sweat beads on your forehead. Your heart starts racing, gripped by a cold fist of terror.

Your good hand flies to the hilt of your sword.

“REVEAL YOURSELF!” You boom into the supposedly empty crypt, projected voice reverberating off the stone walls.

You are an extensively trained, battle hardened knight. Few things can shake you.

But perhaps you were wrong to doubt the young priestesses, this time-

The cold-burning torches in the chamber seem to flicker all at once.

Stone grinds on stone. The lid of a nearby sarcophagus moves in front of your eyes.

Your hand clutches the gas lamp, feeling your knuckles go white under your gauntlet, watching the stone lid continue to move back. You expect to see some spectral or skeletal hand rise from the gap, someone long dead disturbed from their eternal slumber.

You half-pull your sword from its sheath, ready to deliver this revenant to its second death as soon as the rest of your body breaks out of your fear induced paralysis.

Instead of a translucent or rotting set of digits, though, a slender, intact and solid olive-skinned hand reaches out, grasping aimlessly, followed by the other one.

“What in the Lady’s name-” You sputter, trying to make sense of the seemingly living person currently inhabiting the tomb.

With a pained groan, the rest of their body rises out of the dusty sarcophagus. They’re wobbling fiercely, barely able to support their own weight, but you get a good look at them.

Smooth, cinderous dark brown hair. Sleepy, heavily lashed, almond shaped eyes. Expensive looking clothing far too thin and flimsy for proper insulation needed for the beginning of the wet, cold autumn in the Rowenian wilds.

…And the bottom half of a serpent? Specifically, scales of a vibrant gradient of variated oranges and yellows, with splotchy black stripes running horizontally down, from trunk to tail.

You know people like this exist, but you’ve never interacted with one in person, even in your travels during active duty. A type of the dragon-people. Naga, if you recall correctly.

“What in the blazes are you doing in this crypt, serpent?”

“Pleassssse-” Their voice trails off weakly, slurring and nearly incoherent, grabbing at you in desperation. “Heeeelp.”

Desire to help those in need wins out over your own hesitance and shock and perhaps small bias, and you reach out the arm that they seem to be gravitating towards, despite it being your bad one. Their skin is cold as ice where they hold onto your neck for balance, their thin clothing still damp and clinging to them.

They immediately collapse against your body, laying their face on your shoulder. You can’t help but think that the weight feels good against your plate. When was the last time you were touched like this…?

You can’t remember.

You quickly shake the thought away. There are more pressing matters.

You help them back to the temple, through the soggy ground. Mother Abbess and the rest of the priestesses still milling about after supper are surprised to say the least, and you set the stranger to rest in front of the main fireplace in the dining hall, hopefully sufficiently fulfilling their request for heat.

After Mother Abbess has shooed away the rest of the prying eyes and only you, her and the new visitor remain, she addresses them.

“Let me fetch you some hot broth and some blankets, dear. That will help you warm up while we have a chat.”

You watch the naga closely, arms crossed and feet planted, while Mother Abbess goes to retrieve some broth from the kitchens. Given the naga’s incapacitated state, you doubt they could be a threat right now even if they tried, but you are trained to be ready for one, regardless.

After a few minutes, they shudder and stretch out their limbs, seeming to come back to life a bit. They turn their head to look at you, the sharp lines of their features backlit by the fire.

“Here you are, dear.” She hands them the wooden bowl full of heated broth.

“Thaaaank youuuu.”

A long, slender black tongue creeps out from between their lips and dips into the liquid, sampling it with a gentle flutter.

Seemingly finding it to their liking, they retract their tongue and start to sip from the edge of the bowl like a civilized person.

Then they smile at you, as if to silently address the fact that you’re staring, making your face flush in uncharacteristic bashfulness. Prickly heat creeps up the back of your neck- from standing so close to the fireplace in plate armor and nothing else, you’re sure.

“My name issss… Sssssalim. I am a man… and a healer by trade.” He manages to speak slowly, his voice gradually losing the harsh hissing noise and settling into a more subtle, faint accent as he pulls himself together. “Thank you for the… assisssstance…”

Mother Abbess gives him a brief introduction to the temple, herself, and even you, much to your chagrin.

“However did you come to be inside our temple’s crypt, Salim?”

“I had paid a merchant to transssport me through the mountains, for a job placement from the order I have waiting in the city. But during a break for the oxen… I spotted some mushrooms that are an essential ingredient for a rare curative balm, so I went off to collect them… The merchant seemed to have left me behind during that time,” He recounts the story, surprisingly even-tempered while recalling it when he’s described essentially what amounts to paying someone to leave you to die in the woods. “I wandered for what must have been days, it started raining… it didn’t stop raining… then I saw the stone marker for the temple… it seems as if I took the wrong door in, but by then I was too dazzzed by the cold to find my way out… but I got here all the same.”

He lets out a hiss of a laugh at his own folly, a sound you can’t help but find downright charming.

…Charming? What’s gotten into you this evening?

“Oh, what an unfortunate experience you’ve had! Good thing we prepared those spare beds in the guest dormitory earlier.” Mother Abbess beams, placing a wrinkled hand on her sternum. “The good knight will show you where you can sleep, Salim. You’re free to stay here as long as you need.”

He thanks her profusely for the hospitality, and then they indulge in a bit of idle chatter which quite honestly, you could do without. Once he seems to have recovered enough to move around, you escort him to the guest dormitory.

“You will sleep here.” You say curtly as you direct him to one of the made-up bunks closest to the small hearth in the guest hall you stoked earlier. Then, before you can even second guess why you’re saying it, add; “Do not even consider sneaking into the sisters' dormitory, or I will not hesitate to cut you down.”

“Ah, that won’t be a problem- if you’re implying what I think you are.” They say in the most polite manner possible for such an unprompted accusation. Their black tongue flickers in consideration, seeming to taste the air like any other snake’s would. “Even if I had nefarious intentions… There’s nothing that suits my particular interests to be found there…”

“Right.” You say, then think to yourself; Perhaps he only finds others of his kind suitable as potential mates.

…Good.

Over the next few days, Salim seems to begin to make himself right at home at the temple. He enjoys spending time in the library and chatting with the sisters in the dining hall, while you prefer to spend your time as far away as you can while still keeping a watchful, distrustful eye on him.

…Only for the sake of security, of course.

Despite him claiming he has no interest in them, the young priestesses are all a bit too interested in him for your liking. Instead of their usual chatter when not doing their duties, they’ve started gathering to listen to stories about his travels with the rapt attention a child would give a shiny new toy, or a schoolgirl would dote on their first crush.

If you thought that Mother Abbess trying to force you to socialize was bad before, you now know the strife of having to endure conversations with Salim, as well. It’s nearly every time he lays eyes on you, it feels like, with the curious looks and the incessant questions.

His presence in the temple makes you feel… strange.

Wrong, somehow. A benign sort of malaise.

You try to bury it, and just go about your normal routine.

Mother Abbess has the bright idea to enlist Salim into doing health check-ups while he’s here, which he readily agrees to do as gratitude for the aid he’s already received. Over the next few days, everyone has had their turn having a physical, while you have been conveniently busy every time that you might be called to have yours done.

But as the rain continues to pour without signs of relenting, and the surrounding wilderness grows saturated and flooded, the aches and pains are only getting worse and worse, harder to ignore by the day. It hadn’t interfered with your duties yet, but one day, you finally slip up. The Mother Abbess finds you struggling to collect the stack of dry firewood you’ve dropped across the stone floor of the main hall, then proceeds to tear into you in her characteristic, most loving of ways.

"-And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re avoiding having your physical. But you need to have your injury looked at, at least! It has been causing you pain; I see you struggling with it, even if you hide it well, Ser." Mother Abbess scolds you after helping you to pick up the logs, complete with finger wagging. "We finally have a healer in the temple again after old Mother Alys passed, so stop being so stubborn and make use of his services while he's here! He may only be here until the rain lets up, as far as we know- and then you’ll have lost the opportunity completely. You will go, if I have to see you there myself!"

“Yes, Mother.” You grumble out your reluctant agreement. As much as you wish it wasn't true in this case, she rarely guides you wrong. “Escorting me will not be necessary. I will go of my own accord.”

"It would not hurt you to make a friend, either.” She adds, emotionally kicking you in the ribs while you’re down. “There is nothing in the scripture forbidding having a friend."

Obedient as you are, you force yourself to pay him a visit in the quiet, mostly unused infirmary. You part the privacy curtain, walls drawn up and ready to get through this experience- but instead you’re met with a precious sight.

Salim seems to have fallen asleep in the padded chair in the corner of the room near the hearth, serpentine lower body coiled up around himself, a book propped in the dip between layers of scaled tail.

He finally seems to wake. Warm toned eyes blink open, their pupils constricting into lines as they take you in.

“Oh, why hello. My last patient finally arrives…” Salim yawns and rubs at one eye. “It was so quiet and serene back here, and the fire so pleasant- It seems I couldn't help but doze off…”

He rises lithely and arches his back like a cat waking up from a good nap in a sunny spot. The book on his chest slides down his body, seemingly forgotten.

Reflexes sharp as ever, your hand snaps out to catch the book before it falls. You don’t need to read the title to recognize it, but you skim it anyway.

Lady Night’s Good Knight, and Other Courtly Tales

You’re very familiar with this book- it’s a collection of old knight’s tales, simple parables that are intended to be bedtime stories for children. What is he doing reading this, of all things? You would assume a healer as erudite as he’s shown himself to be would be reading one of the numerous dusty old historical manuscripts or books cataloging flora and fauna of the area.

“Oh! Have you read this book before?” He gestures to the tome you’re now pondering in your hands. “I found it in the library and was far too intrigued to pass it over.”

“Back when I was a boy and not once since.”

“The tales inside are quaint, but enjoyable. I had never given knighthood much thought before coming here, but I admit I’m quite intrigued by the idea now. …Back home, there are no knights. Or I suppose everyone who is physically able is a knight, in some regard- it depends on how strictly one considers the definition of chivalry.”

“A kingdom full of knights sounds like a blasted nightmare.” You find yourself speaking far too candidly before you can stop, remembering what your more active days in the order were like. “That’s a recipe for far too many pissing contests for my liking. Everyone wants to ride in and play hero, and not a soul can fill out a single page of paperwork.”

“Healers never want to do their paperwork either.” Salim’s face lights up in amusement, a soft hissing laugh escaping his lips. You experience a short moment of pride that you’ve made him laugh, followed by that strange feeling- some mix of joy and terror and confusion filling you once again.

Suddenly a ball of nerves forms in your stomach, realizing you’re about to let him touch you.

“Let us get this over with quickly,” You gripe, setting the book on the end table and taking a seat in the chair across from him. “I still have duties to see to before night falls.”

“Of course.” He says politely, and efficiently prepares what he needs to get down to business.

It’s a needlessly vexing experience; being poked and prodded, performing tricks on command like a well-trained hound, with Salim uttering the occasional hum that may be a good hum or a bad hum, for all you know- And the invasive sensation of his hand on your chest to auscultate your heartbeat and breathing has your skin prickling under your collar.

“My, are you a wonderful specimen. Steady heartbeat, clear lungs, good color to your gums.” Salim praises you after he’s finished examining your general health with the medical kit still left over from the old healer. He now motions for you to undo your shirt. “You are an exceptionally healthy man. Barring this one glaring area, it would seem. Let us take a look…”

You hesitate, but you relent and untie your loose, simple linen shirt just enough to slip your arm out of the sleeve. One hand gently slinks up the back of your firm upper arm, the other holding your elbow.

It’s a dreadful, ugly thing, your bad arm. Discolored and shiny from the healed burn from your fingertips all the way to your clavicle. To make things somehow more ghastly, the veins on your arm are ruddy black and fully visible from where the overloaded mana scorched through your blood.

"And your magic is fire." He says, a statement, not a question, as he manipulates your arm to inspect the way your scarring behaves. "Mine, as well."

You can already tell his alignment is fire; if not clear from the familiar hum within you in acknowledgement, it is clear from the pleasant smell of recently extinguished candle that seems to always permeate his general vicinity.

"It was. Why does it matter?"

"The raw power still radiating from this…" The way he looks at your arm feels almost reverent, his eyes glimmering. "You would have been quite the sight to behold, were you not? Before all of this damage."

“Does this endless prattle have a meaning?” You say, your nerves forever raw when it comes to this subject. “What are you seeking?”

"I simply thought since we share the same mana alignment, that you'd enjoy speaking about it. And that we could perhaps come to know each other better…" He hopefully looks up his brow at you, still holding your arm aloft in his elegant hands as he inspects you like some piece of meat for slaughter.

You grit your teeth, pulling your scarred limb away.

“My magic was a gift from the Lady. Now, it is gone- Revoked. Of course I don’t want to dwell on that fact. What more is there for me to say about it?”

"...I apologize if I have caused any negative feelings to resurge. I only wished to propose… a mutually beneficial arrangement between us. We could be of great assistance to one another, even share some comfort-"

"I don't want or need your comfort," You snap, pulling your shirt sleeve back on, confusion at your own feelings bubbling up into anger. "Unless it's bloody healing. Can you help with this pain or not?"

"I am capable, and the solution is related. Being a sorcerer, your mana is continuing to generate internally- perhaps moreso than normal to overcompensate for the weather. However, the damage to your arm is preventing the natural release of that unused accumulation, also due to the weather. Due to the age of your injury, I'm sure you already are familiar with the treatment for this particular predicament; Siphoning.” Salim pauses, waiting until he sees your nod in understanding before continuing. “…While my own mana stores have not fully recovered from my jaunt through the woods, not in such damp conditions as these. So, I could take this excess from you, through touch… If that was a prospect you found appealing…"

“I do not.” You say, standing to depart so abruptly that the chair scrapes the stone loudly. “I will wait this out, just as I always do.”

“I do not think that is very wise...” Salim says grimly. You see concern etched in his features.. “But I would never force a patient to accept treatment.”

You don't want to think of it. Nor do you want to think about why your heart starts racing when you are close to him, or why your eyes always seem to catch on the sheen of his scales like they do on a well polished blade, or why the simple act of a gentle examination of your weakest part feels so good, so right, when he was the one doing it.

Giving up the chance to have a wife or a family never felt much like a loss when you were first training to be a knight. You had never felt much desire for one or the other, either way. But now… you finally feel this carnal sort of desire… and it’s for some monstrous serpentine abomination.

Another test of your virtue? Fine. You won’t give in.

Cold, wet days pass into cold, wet nights. Tonight you lie in your bed awake, overheating from the inside out, the blazing heat radiating from your arm. Your good hand clutches at your shoulder, knuckles white from the grip as your writhe, blankets fully kicked off and biting a spare scrap of leather to keep from waking the whole temple with your screams.

This is certainly the worst flare up you've ever had, the old scar burning nearly as terribly as it did the day the explosion happened, when a magical attack overloaded your system and destroyed the ability for your own mana to properly cycle through your body. A broken circuit.

Typically flare ups only happen around excess of the corresponding element. But in such oversaturated conditions of the opposing element- in your case, the water in all this blasted rain- what remains of your mana becomes volatile, trying to overcompensate for your surroundings with nowhere to naturally leech off to.

But you are strong. You can weather this pain, like you have time and time before…

It just needs to pass already.

So close to the brink of being driven to complete madness by the torment, you almost fail to notice the door to your chambers slowly creaking open. The only light filtering in is from the window, as you've left your hearth unlit to avoid making your pain worse. But even in the low light, you can recognize those undulating movements anywhere now.

"...I can feel the energy cresting all the way from my bunk," Salim's soft, worried voice says from the shadows- as if it was ever going to be someone else, slithering into your private chambers in the dead of night. "Please… allow me to help you."

"Fine! Fine. Do what you will to me, serpent," You growl, barely snarling back tears as the leather strap falls from your gritted teeth. "Just make it stop."

You expect maybe for him to come to your bedside and lay his hands on your arm from there, but instead you feel the weight of Salim slithering into your bed beside you.

He entangles your arm with his upper body, pulling your hand towards his face to gently cup his cheek, your forearm tight against his body in its bent position. Every part of his exposed skin that he can feasibly manipulate into touching yours finds its way there; arms, hands, chest. Even his long tail winds itself around one of your legs.

Normally being pinned by another person’s weight like this might cause you to want to escape from the claustrophobic feeling, but it doesn’t seem to appear this time, only a strange sense of security after all the thrashing in pain you’ve been doing this evening. You find a comfort in it that you didn’t know you could crave.

The heat in your arm continues to grow, but it flows with purpose now. The molten energy flees your body, in favor of migrating into the naga’s body instead.

Sweeping tingles run over the surface of your skin in waves, wherever it has contact with his. The sensation is so overwhelming, almost like the ground falling out from below you, despite laying securely on a bed, but with an added layer of temperature fluctuating wildly.

Then… Relief. Finally, some modicum of relief.

This is what your sword must’ve felt when the blacksmith pulled it out of the forge, you hazily decide.

You're nearly euphoric in the simple absence of the white-hot needles jabbing into your flesh from the inside. It might as well be ecstasy, compared to what you’ve been enduring.

Thank the Lady- you think to yourself, before correcting yourself mentally. No, she gets sufficient enough praise the rest of the time. This time, it is 'thank Salim'.

You barely have the sense to care that that’s probably blasphemy, blinking the rims of your eyelids dry. Your heaving breaths finally start to even out into their normal, resting rate of rise and fall.

Finally in a calm, bearable state, you become acutely aware that you're now left in this close, pointedly intimate embrace with him. Shining starkly in the darkness, his irises have started to glow in a saturated vermillion hue, no doubt from the copious amount of magical energy he’s just taken in.

"This should suffice," Salim finally says, sounding sleep-drunk from all of the warmth of the mana he’s absorbed. He seems hesitant to actually let your arm go and depart, still holding your hand to his face, fingers weaved in yours. "I can leave now, if you wish."

"I do not wish for you to go." You admit, taking nearly all of your strength to keep your voice from shaking in fear of what that means.

"Oh?" He traces the fingers on his free hand down the inside of your forearm. How pleasing that simple pressure feels on the parts of your body usually used to the weight of heavy armor- which is most of it.

The feeling of the smooth, bare skin of his chest on your arm is just too enticing to let go, and your resolve crumbles.

The temptation is finally too much, and you're overtaken by the desire that's been gnawing at you despite your attempts to quash it.

You seize him at the back of the neck, pressing your mouth to his.

Salim seems shocked into stillness for a moment, before he relaxes in your grip, moaning his approval into your open, greedily searching mouth, and grasping the back of your own head with his hand. His fingers immediately catch in your hair, the sensation sending a flash of pleasure over your over-sensitive nerve endings.

That long tongue you've thought about so much over the last several days glides across yours, winding around your own like his long serpentine tail is wound up between your legs, coiling around you.

Your free hand searches his side, grabbing anywhere you can find purchase. You want to take in everything; the sensation of soft skin that you know, though starved of, but also the new, enthralling sensation of hard reptilian plate underneath your fingers. It's smooth and rigid, yet still malleable as his dense muscles move underneath.

You trace every crevice and crest you can reach where scale meets plate meets skin, investigating all the differences in texture. His body is positively drenched in warmth now- your warmth- and hot to the touch underneath your hands.

The solid feeling of Salim's tail between your legs feels dangerously good. You find yourself grinding against him to meet the rolling movements of his hips, already this close but desperately wanting to be closer, somehow.

You don't have to see it to know the thin linen sleeping trousers you wear to bed are not concealing anything at this point. The fabric is pulled taut against your arousal, barely even forming a barrier between the smooth plates of Salim's underbelly.

You barely feel any shame now, brazenly rubbing your hard cock against him. It simply feels too good to be embarrassed about at this point.

"This isn't a result of mana," Salim rasps in a moment taken to breathe, lips still hovering over yours. You can feel his dexterous fingers fiddle with the laces, and his tongue flicking at your neck. "But I can treat this heat as well…"

"Please," You growl.

Salim quickly loosens the laces just enough to push the fabric down as much as he'll need to, every minute trace of contact stoking your desperate need.

The darkness doesn't deter him all. His darkvision clearly must be better than yours- making lining up the wet, soft crevice between his belly scales with your waiting member trivially easy.

You can barely contain your excitement as your throbbing cock catches on the edge of his slick vent. The only thing you've felt before has been your own hand, in the times when you've needed release. You need to know how being squeezed inside him feels.

Salim doesn’t even extract himself from the coiled embrace he has you in, nor shift his weight. Once he is sure he's got the tip lined up where it needs to be, he simply starts pressing his hips flush to yours, taking you in.

A low, incomprehensible noise of approval escapes him as presses himself forward, all the way to the hilt. His fingertips grip at your chest while your own seek purchase in the dips of his hips.

Your jaw clenches involuntarily. He's hot, almost unbearably so. You knew he would be, but you weren't ready for the sensation of being enveloped by such sweltering, magically augmented heat.

If the siphoning felt like your sword being pulled from the forge, this is being plunged back into it.

Your lack of experience doesn’t seem to matter anywhere near what you thought it would, not with Salim doing most of the hip movements. You thrust forward as much as being on your side and wound up by him allows, not content to be completely idle.

You're not going to last long like this, but you’ve got to try.

The writhing continues, locked in a slightly damp, molten knot of limbs and starved kisses, until you’re clenching every muscle just to let it continue a bit longer. The grip of Salim’s tail only gets tighter and tighter, until it culminates with a series of forceful contractions around every part he has you captive. That does you in, your own pelvic muscles violently tightening as Salim’s hole saps you of everything you have to give.

Afterwards, Salim doesn’t say anything, but the ragged breathing into your neck is just as good as any words he could say, anyway.

You lie there, skin still tingling all over with heat and a burn deep in your muscles- a pleasant kind in comparison. Eventually you drift off in the darkness, still holding a firm grip on the serpentine body entangled with you about the hips.

You sleep like the dead.

When you wake in the morning you feel revitalized, like you're a new man.

It doesn’t take you long to notice your visitor from last night is nowhere to be seen. You briefly consider if it was all a lewd, feverish, hallucinatory dream…

Only it couldn't have been a dream- your arm is nearly devoid of pain as you clench a fist and flex your muscles, and you can still hear the rain pattering against your chambers' window.

Just as a small twinge of panic starts to set in, you hear someone slip into your chambers.

It’s exactly who you expect it to be, and he’s carrying what looks like two servings of warm breakfast on a tray. When your eyes meet, his mouth curls into an enigmatic smile.

“Good morning.”

“There was no need to coddle me like this.” You protest, sitting up in bed as he sets the tray down on your desk and takes a seat on the paired wooden stool. “I’m perfectly capable of making it to the dining hall.”

"You are sorely in need of time to recover… I've told the Mother that you are to do nothing but rest today."

"And I'm sure she found that terribly agreeable." You say, running your hand down your face in frustration. She's constantly chiding you to take more breaks as it is, and now she has reinforcements.

"Of course she did. Healer's orders," Salim says very seriously, though the glimmer in his eyes is clearly playful. "Though perhaps, depending on how you're feeling now… you may require additional treatment..."

Despite the exasperation, you can’t stop the twitch of a smile on your lips.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster romance #monster lover #monster x reader #naga #naga x reader #male monster #male reader #elf reader #knight reader #mlm #mxm #oc: salim #oc: ser benoit #tarot oneshots #nine of words

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hauntedcheesecakewizard · 5 months

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Chapter 3 is posted :D I'm really happy with it.

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gunpowder-gemini · 1 year

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AAAAAAHHHH

I’VE POSTED IT!!!!

Here’s the first chapter of my Sly 4 rewrite/Tennessee x OC fic!! It may be a ship fic but I’m gonna be covering a lot of character stuff so it’s gonna be long assuming I finish it! If you like found family stuff I’m hoping this delivers :)

I’ve never written anything other than disconnected scenes before, and I’ve NEVER shared my writing publicly so like hhhhhhhhh be nice lol. Hope y’all like it!!

#sly #sly cooper #sly 4 #sly cooper 4 #sly cooper thieves in time #sly cooper oc #bentley the turtle #murray the hippo #carmelita fox #tennessee kid #tennessee kid cooper #tennessee kid x oc #tennessee kid cooper x oc #henriette cooper #rioichi cooper #sir galleth cooper #salim al kupar #also contains slyfox #actually addressing the trauma of living a lie for a year is a huge point in this

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thetwstwildcard · 1 year

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Kalim x Nasira angst (as I think of a ship name for them)

youtube

I feel like Kalim would be one to immediately confess once he realizes he has feelings for someone while Nasira thinks she's undeserving of everyone. So I picture Kalim trying to confess to her and Nasira on the verge of tears, covering his mouth with her skeletal hand begging him to say he doesn't love her. To not "dirty" himself with feelings for someone who doesn't match his social stature.

He could commands her to do anything and she'd obey without a care for herself and wellbeing (not like Kalim would do it). She had to mature so fast compared to Kalim (in her mind) because she went from being his friend to once their families realized she had no magic she became a glorified accessory for him. A bejeweled toy. Why she's willing to die under the curse she gave herself so she'd have magic (that is killing her)

Nasira does have feelings for Kalim, and she's hates herself for even thinking that way about him. Begging him to say he doesn't love her while also begging him to command her to stop having feelings for him, to "toss away this broken toy"

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc #twstoc #twst ocs #nasira salim #Kalim x Nasira #Youtube

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arcanarubinaito · 4 months

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Short Story Taglist

I’ve been meaning to compile a list of content tags I will commonly use, and their meanings. This both gives me a handy reference to use when I’m finalizing everything to post—because honestly I blank out on how to tag it once I get to that point, lol—and I figure I’d post it as both a reference for my own readers and a potential resource for other minific authors here on Tumblr.

This list will be updated as needed; and if you have any tag you think should be added, please comment your suggestions!

I will not be adding tags for certain taboo subjects, as that content will never be on my blog and I’m sure those who write it already know how to properly tag it.

I will not be adding ship tags because frankly there are too many to add.

Please note that this list contains Content Warning tags.

Spoiler Warnings

Asra’s Route

Nadia’s Route

Julian’s Route

Muriel’s Route

Portia’s Route

Lucio’s Route

Tales (Insert Specific Tale Here)

Upright Ending

Neutral Ending

Content Warning Tags

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Gore

Suicidal Tendencies

Self-Harm

Torture

Sexually Explicit Content

Substance Abuse

Depictions of Alcohol

Mild/Mentioned Alcohol Use

Depictions of Drug Use

Mild/Mentioned Drug Use

General Content Tags

Platonic Relationship(s)

Romantic Relationship(s)

Comfort

Hurt/Comfort

Anxiety/Comfort

Hurt/No Comfort

Angst

Whump

Cuddles

Fluff

Major Character Death

Minor Character Death

Slow Burn

Series

Miscellaneous Tags

SFW (<18)

NSFW (18+)

[x] Words

Ask Box

Request

Commission

Gift

Character Tags

Reader/OC Tags

GN Reader

AFAB Reader

AMAB Reader

Nonbinary Reader

Female Reader

Male Reader

Transfem Reader

Transmasc Reader

Self Insert

Apprentice OC

Original Character(s)

Main Six

Asra Alnazar

Nadia Satrinava

Julian/Ilya Devorak

Muriel of the Kokhuri

Portia/Pasha Devorak

Lucio/Montag Morgasson

Familiars/Animals

Faust

Chandra

Malak

Inanna

Pepi

Mercedes & Melchior

Camio

Chimes & Flamel

Jaeger

Courtiers

Consul Valerius

Praetor Vlastomil

Procurator Volta

Pontifex Vulgora

Quaestor Valdemar

Side Characters

Aisha Alnazar

Salim Alnazar

Tasya/Anastasia Devorak

Lishka Devorak

Mazelinka

Halinka (A Warm Welcome)

Khamgalai of the Kokhuri

Morga Eirsdottir

The Satrinavas

Nasrin Satrinava

Namar Satrinava

Nafizah Satrinava

Nazali Satrinava

Navra Satrinava

Nahara Satrinava

Nasmira Satrinava

Natiqa Satrinava

Gavin (The Bazar Job)

Minor Characters

Chamberlain (One of the Palace servants. Unclear if ‘Chamberlain’ is his name or his title.)

Ludovico (Palace Guard)

Bludmila (Palace Guard)

Selasi (The Baker)

Saguaro (An acquaintance of Asra’s, from Nopal)

Tilde the Leech Monger (A leech merchant near Mazelinka’s house.)

Barth/Bartholomew (Bartender of The Rowdy Raven)

Aedile Velos (Once slept in the Palace’s haunted guest room.)

Major Arcana

The Fool (0)

The Magician (I)

The High Priestess (II)

The Empress (III)

The Emperor (IV)

The Hierophant (V)

The Lovers (VI)

The Chariot (VII)

Strength (VIII)

The Hermit (IX)

Wheel of Fortune (X)

Justice (XI)

The Hanged Man (XII)

Death (XIII)

Temperance (XIV)

The Devil (XV)

The Tower (XVI)

The Star (XVII)

The Moon (XVIII)

The Sun (XIX)

Judgment (XX)

The World (XXI)

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcanarubinaito #rubin rambles #rubin’s writing #taglist #tags #minific tags #fandom resource #tagging resource

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bubblesreplies · 2 years

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Through The Ashes // Fourteen

Jason Kolchek X Female OC (Sarah)

A/n: All I can really say is...buckle up. And also...I'm really sorry.

WARNINGS AND TAGS: so many emotions, no really guys this is an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish, abandonment, leader!Jason, Rachel is officially bad here I'm sorry, injuries, VIOLENCE, fighting, canon-typical racism towards Salim, Jason and Nick BFFs confirmed, protective!Jason, anxious!Jason, symptoms of anxiety and slight panic attacks, protective!Sarah, defender!Sarah, manhandling, angst, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Word Count: 9k

Masterlist, Main Masterlist

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Always Loyal

TEN minutes later found the entire group huddled on a ledge as they eyed multiple large, beehive shaped mounds, mounds so tall that they nearly reached the 70-some foot high ceilings in this cursed cavern.

Jason and Salim kneeled in front of Sarah, who stood some ways behind them, leaning solely on her good leg as she gave her other one a rest. She was scared—too scared to lift up her pant leg and look down at it—and was currently thanking her lucky stars that Jason’s eyes were…preoccupied earlier when her pants were off, and that her leg was bandaged the fuck up. She didn’t want him to see how bad it was, either.

“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” Jason asked ominously, his brown eyes swirling with fear as he investigated their surroundings.

“Those mounds are made of cocoons,” Salim agreed, his eyes wide and his throat sounding clenched and dry from pure anxiety. “Thousands of them. If we set the charges there, they’ll all burn.”

Sarah watched as Salim lowered his binoculars and Jason nodded, the two men sharing a solemn look as Salim passed them over to her boyfriend. Jason took them eagerly and intensely, and Sarah’s heart filled with warmth and affection as she watched her boyfriend inspect the cocoons, his stance protective and commanding.

He, without even realizing it himself, was the true leader of this group. And everyone else fucking knew it, too.

Sarah allowed the warm, fuzzy feelings to invade her senses for as long as humanly possible before the anxiety set back in; her leg was beginning to prickle with little bouts of pain again, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before the medications wore off and the adrenaline of the situation faded, leaving her to deal with the true severity of her injury.

“Shit!” Jason called out, and Sarah jumped out of her melancholic line of thinking, immediately beginning to panic when she saw Jason’s back go completely rigid. “They’re hatchin’!”

He turned back around to Sarah and stared at her with big, fearful eyes. Sarah could tell that he was trying to be tough, trying to seem strong for her, but she could see right through his facade to his quivering lip and his impassioned eyes. She burst towards him and fell to her knees, grasping his hand as the two of them shared a calming, balanced gaze.

I believe in you, Jason, she tried to tell him with only a stare, adding a slight nod and a peaceful smile. I believe in you.

Whether he got the unspoken message or not, Sarah couldn’t be sure; but Jason suddenly furrowed his eyebrows with determined ferocity, turning away from Sarah to face the rest of their ragtag, exhausted group.

“Okay, listen up!” Jason ordered assertively, and everybody instantly snapped to attention, looking up to him with hopeful, determined looks on their faces as they listened, enraptured by his every word. “We’ve been hit hard tonight. We’ve lost brothers. But now? It’s time to get some payback!”

Salim nodded enthusiastically next to Jason, as the rest of the group followed suit, Sarah smiling encouragingly at him as she felt the pride and love in her chest bloom as she watched Jason do what Jason had always done best, since the moment she had met him. Be a leader.

“We plant charges on as many of those clusters as possible and then detonate them remotely.” Jason illustrated his plan with hand movements and a focused, resolved stare. “The second those charges go off, we haul ass to the exit. If luck is on our side, we’ll do more than fry a few vampires; we’ll create a diversion.”

Rachel nodded, the look in her eyes absolutely feral and impoverished. “If we die here, at least we’ll take some of those bastards down with us.”

Sarah held in a sharp breath, her panic beginning to rise the longer she stared down at the cocoons in front of them. She had full faith in Jason and in his plans, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous as hell that things weren’t going to be as easy as they sounded.

She watched Jason hand the binoculars back to Salim, who took them gingerly and nervously, with an anxious frown painted onto his face.

“Okay…” Salim responded hesitantly, looking around at the five Americans who were surrounding him. “Who’s going to place the dynamite?”

The silence following Salim’s necessary question was deafening, and Sarah knew that if somebody didn’t pipe up soon, Jason would likely volunteer to go down and do it himself.

She’d be damned if she let that happen, and she’d throw her own damn self down there, shit leg and all, without any knowledge of setting charges before she let him do it. Sarah turned to glare at Rachel and Eric—surely one of them could step up, instead, this time—but both were avoiding her expectant gaze.

Luckily, she didn’t have to fight Jason—or anybody else—to get him to stay up with her where it was safer, because Nick piped up almost immediately.

“Alright, fuck it!” He spoke out loudly, courageously. “I’ll do it.” Sarah let out a breath of relief quietly, the pain in her chest alleviating almost immediately—unaware that she’d been frightened enough that she’d given herself chest pains. Sarah’s concern was further alleviated when she saw Jason nodding in agreement, until she realized that that wasn’t what he was doing after all.

“You’re crazy,” Jason hissed back at his best friend through gritted teeth. “We’ll do it together.” Sarah immediately opened her mouth to protest—she was willing to say or do literally anything to keep Jason close, in sight and reach of her—but she didn’t have to.

“Nah, the more of us down there, the more chances we’ll get seen,” Nick argued back and Sarah held her breath, praying to every single God and Diety that she had ever heard of that Jason would listen to Nick’s logic.

She was worried about Nick, sure, and she would be absolutely overjoyed for them to find a safer option—or even for somebody else to go with Nick—but not Jason. There was no fucking way she was going to allow that, in any way, to happen. She was not going to lose him. Not after they’d come this far, not after she’d finally found him. Under no fucking circumstances was she going to allow that to occur.

Nick, luckily, didn’t even leave any room for arguments. “Take the detonator. If I don’t make it—”

“Nick!” Jason interrupted, and Sarah could see the fear in his eyes for his best and closest friend.

“Hear me out!” Nick interrupted with a shake of his head, holding his hand out to stop Jason from speaking. “If I don’t make it, I want you to blow those charges. Just don’t go getting trigger happy on me.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide at his request, and her head whipped back down to the cocoons nervously. Sure, she had no desire for Jason to go down there and play the hero—again—but there was no way in hell that she wanted Nick to sacrifice himself, either. She may not have known him very well at all, but he was Jason’s best friend for a reason; and he didn’t deserve to die.

Jason’s face was hard and set, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, emotional. “Every step of the way, you keep in radio contact,” Jason hissed through his gritted teeth, and Sarah could see how anxious he was about the situation. His body was rigid and stiff, his hands clenching onto his gun so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He didn’t like this situation—not one bit—and part of Sarah wondered if he would’ve volunteered to go down with him if she weren’t here at all.

“And if there’s no radio signal?” Salim asked, and Sarah held her breath, eyeing Eric and Rachel whispering to each other out of the corner of her eye. Neither of them seemed to have any objections to Nick laying the charges on his own—and while Eric technically didn’t know him very well, either, she at least expected Rachel to care a little bit more about his safety.

“Then I’ll pop a flare,” Nick answered, and Sarah had to admit to herself that at first glance, she’d just thought he was a naive, young man who only cared about his ongoing affair with her sister-in-law. Now, she didn’t feel that way at all; he was brave, thoughtful, and smart. “You see it go up, you hit that detonator.”

“I don’t like this,” Sarah immediately interjected, knowing that she didn’t really have much of a say in the matter, anyway. “You shouldn’t go alone—if you get injured and can’t make it back up, I don’t have enough medical supplies to help you. Someone should go with you, watch your back—”

“No, Sarah, it’s like he said before,” Eric jumped in finally, shaking his head sternly at his younger sister. “The more of us down there, the more likely we’ll be spotted.”

“And besides, he needs eyes watching from up here,” Rachel chimed in, glaring down at Sarah as she scrutinized her judgmentally. “Unless you think you could go down there and do what needs to be done.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Jason protested, just before Sarah had a chance to retort. “Sarah’s injured, Rachel, you know that—and baby, while I hear and agree with you, it’s Nick’s decision now.” Jason pressed a kiss to Sarah’s hand before turning back to his best friend with a nod. “Be quick and be safe, you hear me buddy?”

“Hey, Nick,” Eric suddenly called out, pulling the UV light out of his belt holster and handing it over. “You’ll need this.”

Sarah smiled brightly at her brother and he smiled back—something shifting in between the two of them that felt a lot like healing.

“Hell yeah,” Nick agreed, and even he smiled down at Eric. “Thanks Colonel.”

Maybe it was a Marine thing, but Sarah couldn’t believe how nonchalant everyone was being about this; Nick could die down there, and they could never see him again. Is this how they lived life every day out here, in a war?

If they did, it was fucking terrifying, and a slap in the face as to the reality of being a soldier on either side.

“Wait, Nick—wait!” Sarah called out, running quietly over to her new friend as she threw her arms around him, hugging him around the waist tightly. Nick was stunned, and he looked over to Jason with a shocked, what-the-fuck-do-I-do look on his face.

Jason just smirked back at him and shrugged, grinning as his girlfriend pulled away from his best friend with a determined stare.

“Come back, please,” she whispered, so quietly so that her boyfriend wouldn’t hear her, pushing the tears back from her eyes. “Jason really needs you to come back, okay? I think he’d like it if you came back and we could be friends.”

Nick grinned down at Sarah then and returned her hug, ruffling her hair much like an older brother would to a younger sister.

“You take care of him,” Nick whispered back and Sarah nodded against him before he pulled away. “Until I get back.”

Sarah continued nodding as he walked away, returning to her spot over by Jason, who eyed her suspiciously with a frown on his face.

“Babe,” he pouted, looking back at her face like a little kid who didn’t get to sit at the adult table. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Sarah lied, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she kneeled down next to him and Salim, watching Nick make his way down from slightly behind him. Jason’s frown deepened and Sarah sighed, shaking her head with a grin on her face. “Fine; you, a little bit. We made a deal.”

“Well if it’s about me then why can’t I know the deal?!”

“We should focus,” Sarah chastised him and Jason’s jaw dropped, offended. “After Nick is back, safe and alive, we’ll let you in on the deal. Okay?”

Jason huffed back at her, turning his attention back to Nick through the scope of his gun while Salim checked things out with his binoculars. It was several minutes before anybody said anything, and Sarah became incredibly uncomfortable with waiting so long to hear if Nick was alright.

“Do you see anything?” Sarah anxiously prompted Salim after what felt like hours of tense silence. Her knee was bouncing up and down nervously, but neither man seemed to notice or care, likely on edge themselves.

“I…can’t make it out,” Salim responded uncomfortably, but didn’t pull away from the binoculars. “There! There’s one ahead of him! To his left!”

“Nick, the cocoons are hatchin’ ahead of you!” Jason immediately radioed in, and Sarah could hear the desperation that he was feeling for Nick in his voice. “You’ve gotta move fast!”

“The first dynamite is down; over.” Nick’s voice rang out through the radio in a hushed yet confident whisper in response. “Which way?! Left or right?”

“Right!” Jason answered almost immediately, and Sarah noticed that he was bouncing his leg up and down now, too. When Nick failed to go as fast as he wanted, Sarah watched as Jason only got angstier. “Move!”

Sarah couldn’t hear Nick at all, but she could see his tiny form moving from a couple of different cocoons and placing bombs, holding her breath when he had to hide in between some as a couple of vampires stalked his way. She could feel Jason getting more and more anxious as he watched his friend with no word through the radio, could see his fingers straining under the pressure of his grip on it.

“It’s gettin’ kinda hairy down there, brother,” Jason finally called out through the radio, jaw clenched and having a hard time steadying his shaky hand. “Why don’t you ditch the rest of those charges and head back?”

“Look at that, man,” Nick instantly argued back, his voice sounding unsure as it reached the five of them. “It’s the motherlode.” He wasn’t wrong—even Sarah could see that—but Jason’s hand clenched the radio tighter as he let out a string of cuss words.

“It’s too far!” Jason hollered back, and Sarah was sure that if he grit his teeth any harder, they’d snap right off.

Nick’s response was immediate, but it was calm. “I’m going for it,” he insisted, and Sarah watched as he ran ahead to the largest, main mound of cocoons, vampires obliviously flying overhead, with more and more of them beginning to hatch.

“Oh no, oh no…” Salim suddenly muttered, his hands now suddenly clutching the binoculars just as tightly as Jason’s were clutching his gun and his radio. Salim’s uneasiness did absolutely nothing to calm either Sarah’s or Jason’s nerves, and the latter’s eyes widened as big as saucers, never tearing them away from the mounds.

“What is it?!” Jason probed, distressed. When Salim took too long to answer—Sarah watched him physically gather the courage to say the words that she knew he was about to say—Jason looked over at him worriedly.

“There are too many,” Salim informed him, and Sarah could tell by his tone that he was aware of how this would affect his new friends. “He’s a dead man.” Jason ripped the binoculars from Salim’s hands to see for himself, taking only a second to look as he saw the multitude of vampires flying ahead of the mound.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Jason exclaimed, quickly handing Salim back his binoculars and clicking his radio on to warn their friend.

“WAIT!” Salim interrupted, holding his hand out to stop Jason from using the radio. “What will warning him do now?! There is no way out!”

As if fate were taunting them, Nick’s voice came bursting through the radio. “Hey, how’s it looking up there?”

All five of them held their breath, and Sarah could see the gears turning in Salim’s head as Jason stared over at him anxiously, waiting for him to make the call.

Wow, Sarah thought to herself, raising an eyebrow at the interaction. He must really trust Salim to let him make the call here.

After a moment, Salim sighed, shaking his head as he took pity on Nick. “Tell him.”

Jason didn’t waste a single fucking second, rushing over to pick up his radio and warn his best friend of the impending danger that was upon him.

“They’re all over you, man!” Jason’s voice was wavering as he alerted him, his hands carrying a slight tremor, too. “Hundreds of ‘em.” Sarah laid her hand over Jason’s, which was still clutching the radio, and he flipped it over, taking her hand in his and drawing out every single ounce of comfort that she could give him.

Nick’s voice took a minute to come through, but when it did, Sarah’s heart broke. “‘Least you’ve got the balls to tell me the truth,” he responded, and everyone could hear the tears in his voice, sticking to the walls of his throat.

Jason released her hand then, flipping his radio back on with a choked breath, revealing to everyone around him that he was crying.

“I’m sorry Nicky,” Jason apologized through his tears, and Sarah clutched his shoulder, closing her eyes to her own tears as Jason’s head fell onto the lifeline that her hand had become for him. “For this. For what happened at that checkpoint.”

Jason was concealing his eyes with his hat with his head hung down low, to save himself from some embarrassment, likely; but everyone knew why, and nobody cared. Sarah could feel his tears on her hand and she wiped them with her thumb, allowing him to use her as his emotional human shield for as long as he needed her to be one.

“It’s a war, Jason,” Nick responded, sounding oddly confident. Resolute. Like he knew what was going to happen and had accepted his fate. “Bad shit happens. Kay, out.”

At Nick’s last words, Jason let out a strangled gasp before wiping the tears immediately from his eyes, pulling himself together, and staring blankly down at the mounds of cocoons that still stood in front of them.

Sarah rushed to her feet, standing up and readying herself to run. She knew, with the state that her leg was in, that she’d all of the headstarts in the world.

There was a long, harrowing moment of silence as they waited for a word on Nick, nobody entirely certain if he were even still alive, but everyone certain that if he were, he wouldn’t be for much longer.

When Nick’s voice did come through again, it was only to say, “Charges in place.”

Sarah let out a breath that she didn’t even know she was holding, her eyes watching Jason’s shaking hands as he held the detonator close by. It was mere seconds later that they saw Nick’s flare go up, and Sarah knew, in that moment, that they had no other option.

Sarah heard Jason’s sharp intake of breath before she heard the clink of the detonator, tears falling down her face before she even had a chance to process the explosions that were suddenly booming all over the mounds. The tall, mountain-like structures that she had previously seen were now on fire, and quickly going up in smoke.

Jason rose to his feet, followed by the rest of the group, and he didn’t hesitate before taking Sarah’s hand in his again and pulling her closer to him; as if he’d just realized that he could lose her down here—and that he couldn’t lose her down here.

Everybody seemed to realize that they really needed to get the fuck out of there—and everyone also seemed to realize that there was no fucking way they would try and get out of there until they were certain that Nick hadn’t survived.

The five of them stood in tense silence before Rachel clicked on her radio, her teeth gritted and fresh tears staining her face, making the blood she was covered in run down her cheeks in dirty streaks.

“Nick!” She screeched, the pain and anguish in her voice making Sarah wince with pinched agony. “Answer me dammit!!”

Explosions continued to ring throughout the cocoons, and Jason’s hand tensed in Sarah’s, his legs fidgeting as he watched with an eagle eye for any sign of his best friend.

“C’mon buddy, let me hear your voice!” Jason pleaded, and Salim lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, doing anything and everything that he could do for his newfound friends.

Jason waited for several long moments before he wiped the sweat from his brow and the tears from under his eyes. He turned to Rachel then, reaching a hand out and letting it linger in the air as he contemplated clapping it on her shoulder before he instantly dropped it, apparently thinking better of it.

“I’m sorry.” Jason’s apology came out in his own, choked sob. He glanced one more time towards the fiery cocoons, grabbing Sarah’s hand and pulling her away, knowing that now he had to choose her and choose her wholeheartedly. There would be time to grieve and to fall apart later.

Sarah followed after Jason, their hands falling from each other as they both clenched tightly onto their guns and started walking away, each step feeling a little bit harder and a lot more painful than the first. Rachel and Eric lagged behind the trio, and Sarah could distantly hear Eric whispering something to Rachel comfortingly, but she couldn’t find the strength to turn back around and look at the fires that Nick had started to save them.

It wasn’t until Sarah heard Rachel’s hopeful: “Is it Nick?!,” that the three of them walking ahead whipped back around fast, Jason practically tripping over his own two feet to hear just what the hell was going on.

“He’s alive!” Eric immediately confirmed, a smile lighting up his face as he realized that he hadn’t lost another of his men after all.

“Oh my gosh,” Sarah uttered bravely, her hands flying up to her mouth and her body heaving with unspoken sobs as she hurried over to her brother, standing slightly beside Jason with a hand clenching the back of his shirt eagerly. “Is he—are you—?!”

“Nick!” Eric called out into the radio, and every single one of them was buzzing with hopeful anticipation. “Confirm your position!”

“I’m two hundred metres from the door.” Nick’s voice was raspy, but there he was. He was still here, he was still down there, alive. “...bearing three twenty but I’m—I’m injured. I need help.”

Sarah could hardly believe it, but there it was: Nick’s strangled but very much so alive voice, ringing straight through her brother’s radio. Jason let out a smothered sob, pushing his mouth into his elbow before whipping his own radio out and pressing the button as frantically as he could.

“Hang tight, Sergeant!” Jason ordered eagerly, already pulling Sarah behind him with one hand so she couldn’t get lost along the way. “We’re on our way!”

All five of them ran like hell itself was after them to rescue Nick, hopping down ledges that Sarah was sure would be painful if the adrenaline within her wasn’t so fucking strong. Salim reached Nick first—being the fastest of the group— and Sarah heard him let out his own string of what she assumed were cuss words when he arrived.

Sarah gasped, too, when she saw the manlike vampire—the one that had fucked up her leg—holding Nick up by his neck, mere seconds away from strangling him straight to death.

Salim plunged his metal pipe quick and hard through the vampire’s chest, and Sarah watched as he dropped Nick, falling to his knees and then to his stomach as the life—or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it—snuffed out of him completely.

Nick huffed and heaved as he struggled to re-catch his breath as Jason hurried over to him, eyeing the vampire warily on the off chance that it wasn’t actually dead. Jason grabbed his friend by the shoulder and helped him get to his feet, puffing out a small but assuring, “I got you!” before releasing him.

Nobody said so much as a single word before Jason grabbed Sarah’s hand sharply and pulled her forcefully behind him, hell-bent on not losing her in the chaos that they were certain was about to unfold before them. “MOVE OUT!” He yelled, and Sarah didn’t even have the time to admire how good of a leader her boyfriend was, but if she did, it would have been affecting her in very embarrassing ways.

Jason let go of Sarah’s hand long enough to hoist her up a ledge, knowing even in the thick of danger and mind-boggling stress, that she was still injured and that he needed to be there with her every step of the way if they had even the slightest prayer of making it out of this.

Sarah ran as fast as she could physically run after Jason, his hand intertwined in hers once again so that he couldn’t lose her. She worried that she was slowing him down; vampires began popping up and in front of each of them, out of nowhere and from everywhere, and Sarah was beginning to feel a panic attack brewing beneath her veins.

So close, she thought to herself, seeing the exit towards the elevator so much closer than before. So close and yet so fucking far away, still.

“Those charges were a Godsend!” Jason cried out as they continued to run, both of them taking a tiny moment to watch the green, alien hues turn red with fire and smoke and ash. “Feels like this whole fuckin’ place is comin’ down!”

It wasn’t until Jason had heaved her up another ledge, crawling up next to her himself, that Sarah realized that there were only five of them when there should have been six.

“Where the fuck is Salim?!” Jason called out loud, his head whipping around and eyes scouring the vast expanse of land that they’d just made amazing headway on, in the hopes of spotting their friend. No one seemed to have any answer for him, but they all started examining the land too, with Sarah and Jason unknowingly looking just a little bit harder than everybody else was.

“There’s Salim!” Jason suddenly called out, pointing out the man who had saved Sarah’s life just hours earlier, far away, but alive and cowering under a metal structure as vampires stalked the area around him, looking vigilantly for the one that they’d accidentally left behind. “He’s still alive!”

Sarah muttered her own string of cuss words, then—it seemed to be the night for them—and watched as Jason whipped out his radio to get in contact with their lost friend. “Salim! Come in, man. Are you there?”

They didn’t have to wait very long for Salim to respond, and when he did, his voice came out in a rushed, terrified whisper.

“I am surrounded,” he informed them, and Sarah’s hands started shaking as she heard his words. “I’m in real trouble here. Vampires…so many vampires…” Sarah held in a breath as she looked to Jason, who seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes. His own eyes were filled with fear and his head was shaking back and forth, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening and honestly had no idea what to do about it.

Nick seemed to sense this internal struggle as well, and stepped closer to his best friend, attempting to not be overheard by Sarah.

“What’s there to think about?!” He asked with a hiss, his eyes hard and set with his decision. “We go back down there, we die with him!”

“No!” Sarah cried out, anger boiling within her as she heard Nick’s words. She snarled, successfully gaining both men’s attention, and glared Nick down as hard and as fiercely as she could. “He didn’t have to come back down to get you Nick, but he did; and if he hadn’t you might even be dead right now!”

Nick said nothing at all; the only indication that he even heard Sarah were his eyes, sliding guiltily away from her glare. Jason’s face was still fixed ahead of him, torn, as he waited for the right thing to do to smack him square in the face.

“He’s a dead man!” Eric chimed in before Sarah could plead with Nick to reconsider, although she had the words ready at the tip of her tongue and the edges of her lips. “We need to go!”

The two men began walking away, but Sarah stood firm with Jason, ready herself to run back into the line of fire to save the man who had saved her. Eric didn’t get very far when he realized that they weren’t following, and he turned back around, angst written all over his face when it hit him that his sister wouldn’t take orders from him anymore.

She really only trusted one man—and it was Jason now.

“That man is not one of us!” Eric reminded them and Sarah whirled around on him, a sneer on her face as she stood ready to beat the shit out of her brother if he tried to stop her from helping Salim—even despite what choice Jason ultimately would make.

Eric grabbed her arm and she squealed, squirming viciously to break free, and using a trick she had often used as kids when they wrestled: her viciously pointed elbows to his ribcage. Eric harrumphed as she hit her target, breaking free, and whirled back around on him to give her brother a real piece of her mind.

“You’re wrong!” Jason’s words came out strong and certain, causing both Sarah and Eric to startle, each of them turning around to face him as he stood strong, watching Salim from a distance. “Salim is one of us now! Marines don’t leave their own behind!”

Sarah grinned and let out a triumphant little laugh at Jason’s words, throwing her arms around his waist victoriously as relief settled over her system at his words, so fucking grateful that he’d changed so damn much, that this is what he chose.

He was the bravest man she’d ever met—and fuck it all to hell, she loved him.

“You hearin’ me, Salim?!” Jason spoke into the radio fiercely, confidently.

“If I don’t make it out, tell my son I did everything I could,” Salim answered, and Sarah’s heart started to beat even faster, her mind prepping her legs to ready themselves to run, her fingers itching to shoot her way through every motherfucking vampire in their way.

“Tell him yourself,” Jason interrupted, shaking his head with a grin on his own face, determination working its way through his body. “I’m comin’ to get you.”

Jason turned around instantly to Sarah then, pulling her in by the waist as he pressed his lips to hers, hard, his hand gripping the back of her hair as he kissed her—like it might be the last time that he ever got to.

When he pulled away, Sarah grinned at him, gripping her gun tightly and nodding determinedly over at him. “I knew you’d say that,” she assured him, watching his smile spread across his face as he recognized just how proud of him Sarah was. She pulled out of his embrace and stretched out her leg, eyes locking with Jason’s confidently. “Let’s go save our friend, baby!”

“Sarah.” Jason’s voice was suddenly tight and somber, and she looked back over at him, cocking her head in confusion as she watched his face change from confident to sad. “Baby girl, you ain’t comin’.”

“I—what?!” Sarah cried out, lowering her gun slightly so that she could face him safely. “What the fuck do you mean I’m not coming?! Of course I’m fucking coming, Jason! There’s no way in the fucking world that I’m gonna let you throw yourself back into danger without me—”

“Eric,” Jason called back to her brother, and Sarah’s jaw dropped at how nonchalantly and casually he had ignored her pleas. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, a split second of understanding passing between the two of them as they did so. “Do the right thing this time, alright?”

“What?!” Sarah cried out again when Eric’s—and Nick’s—arms went around her arms, holding her back as Jason pressed another repentant kiss to her head, his eyes screaming a thousand apologies, before he took off after Salim, leaving her behind in the care of her brother and his best friend.

“NO!” Sarah hollered out, tears streaming down her face and her chest puffing in and out violently in a panic attack. Her legs went limp from under her as she watched Jason’s form become tinier and tinier as he left her behind. Eric and Nick dragged her towards the elevator, to safety, as she literally kicked, bucked, and screamed against them to get away—to get to Jason immediately.

She needed to help him, she needed to be there with him, to watch his back, to save his life, to do whatever the fuck that she could to ensure that he made it back up to the top, hand-in-hand with her.

Eric and Nick dragged Sarah into the elevator, Rachel’s eyes wide and confused as she awaited for them to approach, hand on the lever and ready to bolster them up and away from this green hell. Sarah fought with every ounce of energy she had left, but it was useless; the men weren’t letting up on her, and she couldn’t even see the ledge anymore. Jason was gone.

Sarah quit her fighting and sobbed, flinging herself into the waiting arms of her brother, who held her tight and stroked her hair as he shushed her comfortingly. Just like he used to do when they were little; whenever she was sad or bullied or just needed to know that he was there for her.

“He’s going to come back,” Eric reassured her, and Sarah forced herself to believe it, clutching onto her brother’s arms as she turned herself around, watching eagerly at the elevator’s opening for Jason to run back into her waiting arms. Nick and Rachel had their guns drawn, waiting for friend or foe to show their faces. “He’s tough as shit, Sarah; he’s going to run down that stretch of land any moment, alright? I promise. You know me, sis; I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Right?”

Sarah nodded absentmindedly against her brother, who held her back tightly to his chest as they watched and waited on baited breath, waiting for Jason to turn the corner and come back to her. Five minutes passed—then ten—and Sarah stood up and ran towards the entrance again, standing in between Rachel and Nick, her gun forgotten in the elevator.

They heard the screeching of the vampires getting closer, and still—no sign of Jason. No sign of Salim, either, but all Sarah wanted to see right now was that stupid gray ballcap attached to her favorite person in the entire fucking world.

“Eric, this is taking way too long,” Rachel decided, lowering her gun and turning around to face her husband. “If we want a chance of making it out of here, we have to go. Now. Grab Sarah—I’m starting up the elevator.”

“NO!” The protest ripped its way out of Sarah’s throat painfully and she—with a strength that she honest to God had no idea that she possessed—grabbed Rachel by the shirt and threw her up against a cave wall, hard, a steely, enraged look on her face and her suddenly crazy eyes. “Nobody touches that fucking thing. Not until Jason is back—understand?!”

Rachel pushed Sarah off of her quite successfully and she stumbled on her bad leg, feeling Nick’s arms catch her under the armpits before she could hit the ground.

“Fuck, Rachel, are you crazy?!” Nick chastised, hoisting Sarah back onto her feet and dusting her off. “She’s fuckin’ injured, dude—!”

“Jason is not coming back!” Rachel yelled at Sarah, and Sarah felt her face prickle with dread before her entire body became consumed by it. “He made his choice—he went back there for that guy with all of those fucking things flying around—and the chances of him surviving that are very, very slim to none. Okay?”

“Rachel!” Eric called out, eyes wide and jaw dropped in shock.

“What?!” Rachel hollered back at him. “She needs to hear the truth and we need to go—now!” Rachel grabbed Sarah by the arm again, and this time, Sarah was too weak to fight back, the full weight of Rachel’s words falling down over her body. She could hear vampires close by too—she knew that they didn’t have much time—and she didn’t have anything left in here. Nothing left to fight anymore.

“SARAH!”

Sarah shrieked as soon as she heard the voice—his voice, Jason’s voice—and she pulled immediately out of Rachel’s grasp, whipping around to see first Salim, and then that ballcap that she didn’t knew she loved so much—attached to the man that she loved even more. Jason. Alive, intact, and running full speed at the elevator, just as Sarah ran full speed at him.

Jason grinned at her as soon as he saw her face and she jumped forcefully into his arms, her arms winding around his neck as his own wound around her waist, his lips connecting with hers in a deep, passionate kiss that held a million apologies and a million more feelings of total and utter relief that they hadn’t lost each other.

Jason is alive, Sarah’s entire body was weeping with joy as Jason pulled away from their kiss, his dimples shining as he laid his forehead on hers, smiling down at her face, the biggest and brightest smile that she’d ever fucking seen him wear.

“Fuck you!” Sarah suddenly hollered at him, pulling slightly away to pound her fists tightly against his chest as she took her anger out on her boyfriend. “I can’t believe you just did that—do you know how fucking scared I was, Jason?! Fuck, I thought that you—I thought that you were—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Jason hushed her, pressing a firm, heartfelt kiss to the top of her hand. “I know baby, I know, but you’re injured; and I ain’t ever gonna risk your life, and I’m sure as hell not gonna apologize for it,” Jason growled back at her, pulling her back into a tight hug. “Be fuckin’ pissed at me later, be whatever the fuck you want with me baby girl, but now? We gotta go.”

Jason whispered apologies to her as he pulled out of their embrace, grabbing her by the hand as he rushed her over to the elevator, dodging and ducking as their friends shot at the vampires that were close behind them. Sarah was so pissed—so fucking pissed at him—and so relieved that he was alive to know it, too.

They rushed themselves into the elevator, Jason throwing the lever down and making the damn thing go up as all six of them fell against a wall, breathing heavily and attempting to regulate it. Jason hurried to Sarah’s side, both of them feeling how lucky they were to still be here with one another, safe, alive, together. He threw an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, tilting her chin up with his pointer finger as he kissed her tenderly, wiping the tears from her eyes when he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently and softly, cupping her cheek in his hand as he kissed her forehead again. “I won’t ever scare you like that again; I promise.”

“You better not,” Sarah whispered back, rubbing her face against his chest and closing her eyes, inhaling his scent and slowing her pounding heart down as she reminded herself over and over again that this was real, that Jason was really here holding her, and that he was still alive.

Nick laughed then, and Sarah pulled away from her boyfriend, wiping at her own teary eyes as the two men bumped fists. “Takes more than a few bats to kill you,” Nick teased and Jason nodded solemnly, before letting a boyish grin overtake his face.

“Oh man,” Jason huffed out, a tiny whistle exiting from the air in between his teeth. “That was un-fucking-believable! Those things were all over us, but me and Salim busted through ‘em like it was the last down of the damn superbowl!” The two men were chuckling like they had just won a fucking sporting event, not just fought a bunch of monsters that were anxiously waiting to kill them!

Sarah stared at Jason—eyes wide and shocked—as she shook her head incredulously at his words. Men—in every era and in every dimension—men would always be fucking weird.

Jason sobered up quickly at her expression, and, seeing that nobody else seemed to want to do it, once again took the reigns and responsibility of being the leader.

“Listen up!” He called, handing Sarah her gun with a wink and turning to their friends. “We’re not out of the woods yet; but what I see in front of me? You’re the best—fuck that—the best of the best! And we will get home!” Jason turned back to her, then, pressing a sharp, quick kiss to her forehead before turning his gaze back to the other men in the group.

“OORAH!” Jason, Nick, and Eric all chimed out, fists pumped into the air, and all at the same time as if they could somehow communicate when to chant telepathically. Sarah jumped and Rachel rolled her eyes, but Salim began to laugh, looking at Jason curiously before Jason nodded his head in confirmation.

“Oorah?” Salim repeated, and Jason chuckled, ruffling Sarah’s hair as he nodded once again to Salim, the fondness for his new friend evident in his eyes. Salim then began to laugh loudly, and a little crazily as he shouted, “OORAH!”, gaining more than a couple of laughs amongst the group.

Everyone seemed to sober up as the elevator reached the top, and Sarah reminded herself to put on her game face, ignore whatever shit her leg may throw her way, and run as fast as she fucking possibly could.

After this, I’m fucking working out again, she chastised herself, following Jason and Rachel out of the elevator. She was right on Jason’s heels, and she could tell that he could have been running a whole hell of a lot faster if he weren’t waiting for her at every turn—a fact she’d continue to kick herself about until they were out, safely in the sunlight once again.

Sarah screeched loudly as Jason grabbed her elbow, pulling her out of the way of a stray boulder, and they continued running forward, unsure of where exactly they needed to head.

They found themselves at a set of ropes—the ones Sarah had rappelled down with Jason and Salim earlier—as rocks began to fall and the waterfall they’d seen earlier was suddenly crazily spouting off the liquid to and fro.

“This way!” Rachel suddenly called out, gesturing for the group to take a really sharp left. “Hurry!” They didn’t waste any time as Salim and Nick headed up the ropes first, Jason turning around to Sarah and pulling her close to him.

“Eric, I need to head up the ropes next so that I can pull Sarah the rest of the way up,” Jason insisted, seemingly having thought about this well in advance. Eric nodded, agreeing with his decision, as his frantic eyes looked between his sister and his subordinate. “You come right behind her and make sure she makes it up okay—alright?”

“Yeah,” Eric agreed, nodding weakly.

“Colonel!” Jason suddenly yelled, and Sarah jumped, turning back to her boyfriend’s face. His eyes were wide, his jaw clenched, and he looked back and forth from the ropes, back to Eric, then back again to Sarah. Eric jumped too, pinning his full attention on Jason with wide eyes. Jason stalked closer to him, a stern finger pointed at his nose as he said in a low, demanding voice, “I need this girl to make it up, Colonel—can I count on you?”

“Absolutely,” Eric assured Jason, nodding firmly and pulling Sarah over to him as he gestured towards the ropes. “I’ve got her, Lieutenant; and you need to climb up, now!”

Jason turned to Sarah then, and with a nod, said, “I’ll see you at the top, baby; I’ll be there to pull you up, alright?” Sarah nodded nervously back as Jason took another stolen moment to kiss her, the hecticness of the situation and their being split apart apparently having affected him.

Sarah was utterly terrified and apprehensive of Jason leaving her down here, again; even though she knew, without an ounce of doubt in her body, that Jason meant what he said and that she could count on him. He’d always protect her. He’d always take care of her needs first. And she trusted that he truly thought that this would be the best plan.

Jason began to climb the rope with a pace so fast that Sarah couldn’t believe it was humanly possible. She grabbed the bottom of the same rope as she prepared to climb herself, and she felt her brother’s hands from behind her grip the rope as well, ready to bolster her up in the event that her leg gave out and she didn’t have enough arm strength to pull her and her gun up to Jason’s reach. Sarah took a deep breath, lifting herself up to start pulling up, when suddenly—and without any warning at all—Eric’s arms disappeared from the rope entirely.

Bewildered, Sarah turned around to see what was going on, releasing the rope from her grip and walking over to the side of the cliff, where Eric was strangely and solemnly staring out.

“Eric?” Sarah called out, resting a hand on her brother’s arm as she inspected his face, which was suddenly haunted—as if he had been struck by some realization, or possessed by a terrifying thought that wouldn’t let up its grip on his brain. “Are you…okay?”

Rachel hopped off of her rope, too, and stood on the other side of Sarah’s brother, concern etched into her features so clearly that Sarah wondered if they were feeling the exact same level of emotions.

“Come on,” Rachel chimed in, successfully grabbing Eric’s attention. “We go together.” Eric nodded back at his wife, but his eyebrows were still furrowed together in confusion, as if something were missing and he needed to figure it out immediately.

Still, he turned to walk back with Rachel, with Sarah just a beat behind him as she limped—but a beat was enough time to fuck her completely over.

Sarah didn’t even hear the shriek as she was knocked on her ass, something heavy and cold knocking her straight to the ground and pinning her there quickly, all before she even had a chance to yell for help. She screamed and kicked out at what she assumed was a vampire—still having not seen it properly, as it was all a flurry of blue swirling lines as they struggled against each other—before she reached for her gun desperately, knowing that if she could just aim for something, she could probably get out from underneath its body.

Sarah almost had the gun aimed at what looked like a chest before she saw a cold, blue hand rip the gun straight out of her hands, tossing it over the edge of the cliff and down, down, down into the abyss.

“Oh, fuck!” Sarah screeched as she attempted to fight it with her hands, pushing against what she could now see were its shoulders—tiny, little bony things—as she precariously dodged its snapping jaws, looking up for a split second to see its face.

“Clarice?!” Eric’s horrified voice confirmed what she’d just seen, and it was shocking enough to throw her off guard, her body freezing up instead of doing what it should have been doing—fighting. Clarice—no, not Clarice anymore, just a vampire—took the opportunity to drag her long, pointed nails down Sarah’s injured leg, eliciting a feral, anguished scream as they took purchase in her fleshy calf, digging deeper and deeper into her already wounded tissue.

Sarah distantly heard Eric screaming her name through the intense ringing in her ears, but she couldn’t gauge where he was in relation to her at all; her vision was starting to go black around the edges of her eyes from the extraordinary amounts of agony that was suddenly resurfacing all at once, and she felt her body go still as Clarice ripped apart her flesh, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as it began to shut down from the pain.

She felt Clarice’s cold, dead nails pull out of her with a shriek and Sarah gasped, sitting upright and staring down at her wounded leg. There was blood seeping through her bandages all the way to her jeans, and she was certain that if her leg was doing alright before, it was fucked up now.

Still, she got to her feet as quickly as she could, having to lift her bad leg so that she wouldn’t collapse right back down to the ground again as she was now completely unable to walk or bear any weight on it. She whipped her head towards the right, where Rachel had been knocked down by Clarice and was fighting her tooth and nail, Eric coming up from behind to rip the vampire off of his wife.

Sarah tried to figure out how Clarice had moved on from her to Rachel so quickly, but she figured one of them had knocked Clarice off of her, effectively saving her life once again. Rachel and Eric squared up against Clarice, who stared right past them and sneered at Sarah, as if she just knew that the blonde was the weakest link—the guaranteed kill.

Rachel must have seen this as her opportunity—because she grabbed Eric’s arm ans they ran for the ropes, Sarah following as quickly as she could with only one usable leg. She knew, as soon as she started moving, that she was royally fucked—she couldn’t stand on her leg at all, and Rachel was already halfway up the rope.

Eric stayed behind, and he turned around just in time to watch his baby sister get yanked back by her hair, Clarice pinning her once again as she tore apart her pant leg, holding Sarah’s writhing body down as she bit into her injury, taking off chunks of dead flesh and devouring it quickly, intent on making Sarah her next meal, apparently.

“JASON!” Sarah screamed, and she had never heard her own voice sound so frightened—so anguished. She hoped with every ounce of hope in her, that Jason was still close enough to hear her scream. Still close enough to come back down and save her.

Because she was certain that nobody else was going to do it.

Sarah would have thought that with her desperate pushing and bucking to get Clarice off of her combined with the agony that was ripping through her body, she wouldn’t have been able to hear or notice anything going on around her, but she was wrong. She could hear Rachel’s voice, clear as day, when she yelled: “ERIC, LISTEN TO ME! SARAH IS TOO INJURED—SHE WON’T MAKE IT! IF WE DON’T LEAVE NOW, WE WILL ALL DIE! I CAN HEAR THE OTHER VAMPIRES COMING—WE HAVE TO GO!”

Sarah closed her eyes then, Clarice’s nails and teeth beginning to gain more headway now that Sarah had stopped fighting. She was going to die, and the only thing that she could think now was how grateful she was that she had told Jason that she loved him.

“No.”

Eric’s voice was choked up in a sob, but sounded determined at the same time. It was shocking enough that Sarah’s eyes whipped open and she tilted her head all the way back, far enough to see her big brother running at her, conscious enough to watch as he jumped onto Clarice and knocked her off of his sister, wrestling with her on the ground as he saved his sister’s life.

“RUN, SARAH!” Eric pleaded with her, pinning Clarice under him as he attempted to get her close enough to the edge to push her off. “GET TO THE ROPES—I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU, GO!”

Sarah didn’t hesitate, knowing that she couldn’t waste any time or she would be dead. She hurtled her body towards the rope and pulled herself up it, using what was left of her strength to haul ass as far up as she could, knowing that she didn’t have much left to give.

I just need to make it far enough for Jason to pull me the rest of the way up, she reminded herself, feeling the blood drip down her leg and crying out every time the rope scratched against her now open wound.

Sarah only looked down once—and she wished she wouldn’t have looked down at all.

Clarice had somehow bested her brother, and was now holding him up by a single hand, much like the other vampire had done to her and to Nick hours earlier, and Eric was struggling to breathe. The sight was enough to make Sarah drop off of the rope, knowing that if she didn’t get to her brother soon, he wouldn’t make it back up the rope with her.

She hopped as fast as she could, tears stinging her eyes—but she wasn’t fast enough—and she didn’t make it.

She watched, an inhuman, excruciating scream ripping through her throat and past her lips, as Clarice crushed Eric’s neck wide open with both hands, his head coming clean off of his shoulders as his headless body fell to the ground and rolled off of the cliff, down into the abyss.

Eric was dead.

And it was all her fault.

taglist: @house-of-kolchek@kawaiiwitch224@inactiveforidk@lorebite@yeslieutenant@kassiekolchek22@pechvogel@buttermykolchek@emilykolchivans@e-jaegerenthusiast

#house of ashes jason #jason kolchek x reader #jason kolchek #jason kolchek imagine #jason x reader #house of ashes #house of ashes x reader

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rosenrot234 · 2 years

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I think another reason the whole Jason x Salim thing grew on me was because they’re pretty dang similar to “OC Cale” and @penguinpoots Wyatt.

A brat acting like a punk but its mostly bullshit? Gee I wonder who that is XD

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destinygoldenstar · 2 months

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I decided to do the OC Ship Ask Game with my Not So Berry Couples. Starting with our OG married couple, Salim Benali x Pepper Nosobirrie

Who fell first? Who fell harder?

Pepper fell first. You can tell from how uncharacteristically awkward she got when they first met. But I’d say Salim fell harder given how much he expresses his adoration for her.

Who is the one who fusses the most? Does their S/O mind very much?

Pepper definitely. And Salim does mind it. They took a break from each other as a result. (Then came back)

What is their love language?

CHAOS

Who likes forehead kisses? Who likes hand kisses? Who likes neck kisses?

Salim. Salim. And Salim.

Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?

Peppers the big spoon. Salims the little spoon. No criticism.

Who is clingy?

Pepper. She’s a jealous sim and gets paranoid when she spends a day without him.

What is something they find hot about their S/O?

For Pepper, that man bun. For Salim, that rizz.

What is something they argue about constantly? Is it a deep-seated issue or something small?

Their biggest fight was whether or not Pepper was a good parent and a good influence. And that lasted for awhile, and even resulted in an accidental pregnancy with Emerald and Peridot.

How do they comfort one another when the other is upset?

Salim will help her take deep breaths and meditate out of her stress. Pepper will just bone him.

Who is the better caretaker? Does their S/O like being taken care of?

Salim. It’s not really a contest here. Pepper likes it, but she’s also pretty independent.

They've had a major blowout. How do they handle it?

This actually happened. At first they boned as an apology, accidentally got pregnant with two more kids (Emerald and Peridot). That didn’t work so Pepper tried being the responsible one around the house. That didn’t work do they took a break with Pepper moving out to live with her eldest kids (Ruby and Kian). They got back together though, and visited often.

How good are they on communication?

Salim? Great. Pepper? Not so much.

Who handles the spiders? Who screams directions in the background?

Pepper’s crushing spiders before Salim even sees them.

Who typically tends to initiate intimacy first (this can be a conversation, action or anything)?

Pepper. Though that’s mostly just because I was playing as her from the very beginning.

Who said "I love you" first?

Pepper

Who kissed who first?

Mutual

Who gets jealous most often? How does their S/O deal with that?

Again, Pepper. No contest. Salim usually lets her know it’s all fine though.

Who tends to drive on long journeys? Who navigates?

Pepper drives. Salim navigates.

Do they trust one another? Are comfortable - discussing their fears with one another?

Absolutely.

What's an insecurity they hold about their relationship?

Their capabilities as parents to their kids. They moved in together to raise Ruby and Kian, and they turned out… chaotic. Then Salim had a midlife crisis about it. Then Pepper went off the deep end with her doubts.

How would they describe one another.

Salim to Pepper “She drives me crazy. But she also drives me craazzyyy.”

Pepper to Salim “He’s so kind and talented and thoughtful.”

Which one of them gives "that look" when they other is acting like a fool?

Salim. He doesn’t usually do anything though

How does each significant other view any exes and former relationships?

Neither character has any exes

Who is more likely to avenge their S/O if they were hurt or killed?

Pepper. With a freeze ray.

What would be their ideal evening in?

The art museum. Salim loves it especially.

Who gets up early? Who stays in bed late?

Pepper gets up early for her chaotic reasons. Salim stays in bed late being the lazy guy he is.

Who's more likely to bring the other coffee or breakfast in bed?

Surprisingly, Pepper. She’s not good at it but she tries just to get her husband to be productive with his dreams.

If they were ever in a life or death situation, who risks their life?

Pepper. She ain’t no pushover

If it ever came down to it, who is turning to the darkside to save the other?

Pepper. She’s already evil and the ‘bad girl scientist’.

Are there any characters who ship them?

Their own children. Especially Ruby. She idolizes their marriage, as she was alive to see the wedding.

Who cooks? Who does the dishes?

Salim. Pepper can’t be trusted in the kitchen.

Who eats healthier? Who's got the sweet-tooth?

Surprisingly, Salim. Not saying Pepper isn’t healthy, she is, she’s a vegetarian and she’s a rare character that’s almost never had weight problems. But she has food allergies. She hates eating unless she has to. So she’s actually on the more underweight side.

What's something that they don't really care for but tolerate because S/O has an interest?

Salim doesn’t care for freezing people with a freeze ray. But Pepper does it and it makes her happy.

Who spoils who? Does their S/O tolerate it? Do they secretly enjoy it?

Surprisingly, Pepper spoils Salim. Yeah she’s materialistic, but she’s also grateful for her love.

Who tends to be the level-headed one? Who is feral?

Salim is the level headed one. Pepper is FERAL.

Who reminds the other to wear a coat when it's cold out?

Pepper. She freezes people. But not him.

Do they hold hands?

Surprisingly, no. I’ve never seen them do that.

Is there a spot they tend to kiss or caress habitual?

For Salim, it’s her cheek. For Pepper, it’s his hands.

How would they describe their S/O in one word?

“Chaotic”

How would outside characters describe their relationship?

A match that bettered both of them.

How would they describe one another in bed?

Pepper often calls Salim a bad woo-hooer. She still got impregnated by him twice though, so clearly they do it often.

Who tends to take the lead in intimate encounters?

Pepper

Have they ever been caught in the act? What would be their reaction if they were?

Yes. Don’t care.

Have they ever done it anywhere questionable?

At a bar with celebrities. Pepper was pregnant then. Salim dipped her in the celebrities skirt. And the fan punched her in the back as payback. How Ruby and Kian were still born, I have no idea.

Who is more vocal? Who is more experienced?

Both in different ways. Peppers a scientific genius and a prankster. Salims a creative and a practical person. It’s comparing apples and oranges.

If they were to go shopping, who holds the bags? Who decides where they go?

Salim is the shopping enthusiast with his artsy vibe. Pepper doesn’t buy clothes unless they’re mint colored.

If they went out to dinner, who is paying? Would there even be a discussion?

Pepper pays. She doesn’t even let Salim say anything before she does.

If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

They’re Peppers new enemy and she’ll beat you up. Then freeze you.

Who's more likely to bail who out of jail? Would they give the other one shit for it?

Pepper HAS been to prison once. And should have been again when Nina died in her apartment because of her. So Salim is bailing.

Are they soulmates? Do they believe in that?

Absolutely and they know it.

Did they have a meet cute? Or was it a train wreck?

Pepper passed out when they met at the bar. So yeah, it was a bit of a train wreck on her end.

Who gives the best gifts? Who gives the more thoughtful? Who goes for expensive?

Pepper is the more expensive. Can’t afford it? Steal it. But Salims Winterfest gift was proposing to her. Can’t beat that.

Would they ever consider marriage?

They ARE married.

Would they ever consider starting a family?

They have five kids. Two sets of twins. And one alien. Four girls and one boy.

Who likes kids more? Who can't stand them?

Salim is the involved parent. Pepper doesn’t hate kids though, she’s just careless about raising them.

There's a puddle in one's way. What does their S/O do?

Step in it. They don’t care

Their pet has caused destruction. Who puts the pet in jail? Who defends the pet?

No one would ever put Bubbles in jail again. He’s a precious irreplaceable cat.

Who reads the newspaper? Who wants to see the cartoons?

Salim for both.

Who gives off "they said no pickles" energy?

Surprisingly, Salim. Pepper’s the vegan one.

#sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #my sims #the sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #simblr #the sims community #ask game #Pepper Nosobirrie #salim benali #not so berry #not so berry challenge #not so berry mint #shippings

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eddie-brii · 10 months

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So here's the prologue for the OC story I've been working on for a bit now. I'm taking my time with this one. I really want her to feel like a character in the game so updates are going to be slow.

Charlie is also here so I've really made myself question my sanity. But, hey, it should be a fun experience.

Prologue

In a small village in Iraq, May 29th, 2003.

The lights in the safe house were low, the sun setting while two people stared at one another trying keep there minds off just where they and the film crew reporting on the locals’ reaction and recovery from the war are. Two were sitting across from one another at a crate in the corner of their little safe haven, using it as a makeshift table. The gentleman with the glasses shuffled the cards while smoking a cigarette, taking his time while the female fidgeted. The rest of the members in their little group were already laying down or not interested in social interaction with the woman opposite to the dealer.

“Charlie, will you just deal the damn cards already?” She finally demanded after brushing her bangs to the side. He’d lost count of how many times the twenty six year old had done so within the last hour and if she wasn’t doing that, she was biting her cheek.

“Temper, temper. You’re oddly on edge, Bree, have been all day. Is there a reason?” Charlie asked as he finally began to pass the cards one by one between the two of them. He was used to the others mood changes at this point. He stared at the younger woman across from him, one of the most unusual he’d met from a recent failed folklore film project. Helltown, Ohio had popped up on his radar as a possible new idea to get his name out there. It had enough potential to draw him across the pond to the US, or so he thought.

Charlie had hoped, when he arrived in the northern area of the state, he’d be able to track information easily enough. But everywhere he went no one wanted to talk about a ghost town with a possible Native American curse on the land surrounding it, only the war going on overseas. Finally while in Cleveland, he’d gotten someone to point him to a lead that had him heading south. Apparently the mountains of Appalachia were known for their strange goings on and the people there were quite familiar with the unusual. It made sense someone would know something about his little curse. After even more searching, he was pointed to the woman across from him as a “folklore expert”. Charlie wasn’t sure what to expect to say the least at the first meeting, but, then again, he imagined if he’d known the other title he found out she had, he might have felt underwhelmed until he had gotten to know her. A Paramedic in a rural area was not the occupation he pictured, though being a member of an integral part of the community gave little indication as to what she was practicing in her free time. He really had no idea what he was getting into when he walked up to the fire station that day.

One year earlier.

Charlie was excited. He’d finally managed to find this expert the unofficial group leader he’d found recommended. The older woman had been insistent that, despite his disbelief, her contact would be the one to talk to. He was sure the Fire Chief of the department had been as confused as him when he called requesting to speak with one of his members, but he equally couldn’t bring himself to care as this was the first breakthrough in the last month. As soon as he arrived he was taken aback by the activity he was seeing. A fire engine, another large truck that looked to be a small commercial water tanker and ambulance were outside with multiple people moving about. It all looked like organized chaos, with crew members still in the pants of their fire gear, laying out hoses and washing said trucks. The smell that seemed to permeate the area made it obvious that a fire had occurred. The stench coming from the gear laying out was enough to make his head begin to throb slightly and if he didn’t already partake in cigarettes, he imagined he’d be fighting off a cough. Charlie finally managed to spot the man he was looking for, or more so heard him as he yelled for someone to “bring the hose to the dryer”. Charlie worked his way over to the Chief, thankfully without tripping over something being cleaned or bumping into someone.

“Good morning, Chief Stewart, a pleasure to finally meet you in person!”

“Good mornin’ Mr. Lonnit, happy to have you on station. My crew’s just got back from a structure fire so you’ll have to excuse the mess. Always seems to happen when we expect company.” Charlie paid little attention to the last comment, he was just thankful he could understand the man. The accent in the tri state area could be difficult for him depending on how thick it was, and how much slang the locals used. He still didn’t understand what the waitress meant by the pie being “so good your tongue will slap your brains out” when he had asked at that diner.

The man that greeted him was weathered, heavy set and around his height. He didn’t give much time for Charlie to continue assessing him or the scene in front of him before he spoke again.

“Ms. Williams is this way.” The Chief started towards the squad.

“I’m not sure as to what you’re wanting to speak with her about but if it’s related to Fire and EMS Bree is one of our best and brightest members. A damn good firefighter and passed her medic with flying colors. Recently graduated from college with her pre-med, one of the only reasons we haven’t made her an officer. We joke she’s our resident good luck charm.” The older man stated, dodging equipment and personnel left and right.

“What exactly do you mean by good luck charm?” Charlie asked as he avoided a ladder being moved.

“Pardon the language but when we deal with shit shows and she shows up things go much better.” Finally nearing the back of the ambulance where the doors were open, they heard sudden shouting from a firefighter heading in the same direction with a couple others close behind him.

“Hey, Bree, I have medical issue that needs taken care of! I got pain in a certain area, I think I need ya to take off my pants and feel around!” The man in question began to gesture to his crotch and the other two tried to hide their laughter behind their hands.

“Sorry, Benson, can’t do anything for small dick syndrome,” came a female voice from the back compartment in an unimpressed tone. Charlie noted little to no accent. Surprising.

“Burn!” exclamation the young man’s friends at the same time as they finally lost the battle to keep themselves quiet, laughing at Bensons expense.

The Chief and Charlie had turned the corner of the vehicle where he finally was able to see the person he assumed he was looking for. The woman in question had her neck bent over a book that she was writing in as she put away items, apparently not even considering the comment made by the young man worth her full attention. She had to bend slightly in the back of the ambulance, but Charlie guessed she was around five foot six with dark brown hair tied in a ponytail, strands of it had escaped to hang in wild curls around the sides of her face with the bangs that were already free. She was dressed in a t-shirt proudly displaying the department’s emblem with dark blue pants and boots. He couldn’t see much more from where he was standing, Chief Stewart interrupted his chain of thought before it could go farther or he could move closer.

“Benson! Stop harassing one of our only medics! We have company for God's sake!” At the Chief’s shouting, Benson at least had the decency to look embarrassed at his behavior in front of a member of the public.

“Sorry, Chief, I, um, just wanted to joke around with Bree.” From what Charlie could tell the firefighter was just a kid, couldn’t be more than twenty, the blush on his face from getting caught making him look even younger.

“Get back to work, and remember, she’s a firefighter as well, with more experience than you and someone who won’t hesitate to save your ass. In and outside of a fire, she deserves respect!” The Chief finished his reprimand, each of the three youths gave a “Yes, Chief” scattering at the dismissal before they got into more trouble. Charlie heard a sigh and the sound of booted steps making their way out of the truck.

“Chief, that last part wasn’t necessary. He’ll figure it out eventually but right now he’s a kid who just got his fire card. He’ll grow out of it. Squad’s back up to par by the way,” Bree stated as she climbed out the back doors. Finally getting a better look at her, Charlie observed dark brown eyes with gold flecks set in a rounded face. A lighter, peachy complexion with high cheekbones and button nose. Her build was…. feminine but solid? Charlie was slightly surprised seeing the muscle apparent in her arms, however, he realized she more than likely needed strength for her job over a concern for appearance. Not a model, but, not bad either. Along those arms were tattoos, intricate and elegant, that disappeared under the sleeves of her shirt. He didn’t recognize the symbols throughout the designs. He made a mental note to ask about them if she allowed an interview, but for now he needed to get her to talk to him.

“Thank you for taking care of it,” he continued after a quick inspection of the back before she closed the door. “And, Bree, I made a promise to your father to look after ya. That means making sure the new pups don’t think they can talk to you like that. Besides we do indeed have company.” He stepped to the side to reveal Charlie. “Bree, this is Mr. Charlie Lonnit. He’s the one who requested to speak with you specifically.” The Brit moved forward at the Chief’s prompt.

“I’ll let you get to it.” Chief Stewart left the both of them as he began to see to the other department members.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Williams. You came highly recommended as a expert of a project I’m working on.” He presented his hand to the younger woman, moving past the awkwardness after the Fire Chief had left. He noted the strength behind her handshake when she took it, confident and firm. She gave him a confused look, with eyebrows drawn together, at the mention of why he was there.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Lonnit. I’m not sure as to what I could be an expert in that would make a gentleman from the UK come all the way over here, but there’s a picnic table we can talk at beside the fire house away from the noise.”

“Please, lead the way, and call me Charlie.” he stated before he followed her over to the area in question. She hummed in response.

“Go ahead and call me Bree then. Not even the kids here call me Ms. Williams,” she called over her shoulder. The noise becoming distant as they passed the corner of the building. She sat down at the table and leaned forward, arms crossed still eyeing him, unsure as he sat across from her.

“I really appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I’m afraid researching the film I would like to shoot has been difficult to say the least. You maybe my only lead so far beyond the history records I’ve been able to dig up,” he started hoping to put her at ease.

“I’m flattered, but again, I don’t know if I can actually help you.”

“I was assured you would be, by a source that seemed to know you fairly well,” he continued on. “You see, there’s an area north of here, in Summit county, that has a certain reputation that has caught my interest and I would like to look into putting together a film crew to shoot a documentary series about the location. I’m afraid it’s been hard to find anything besides public records. I was hoping you’d fill in the blanks, if not a possible interview.” He had had his head down throughout the rest of his explanation, trying to find his notepad and pen but her response finally caused him to look up.

“Fuck no! You’ll get yourself killed going up there.” She was looking at him incredulously, her arms uncrossing as her back straightened to full attention, a stark difference to the uncertainty he’d seen not moments ago. She looked around to make sure none of the other members had made their way even close to the table. She turned back to him finally as he swallowed the lump that was now in his throat, unsure of how to take her reaction.

“Who the hell gave you my name and in what context?” she leaned forward with a serious look directed at him. Charlie held up his hands in surrender, leaning back to try to diffuse the situation’s sudden tension, thoroughly confused at her behavior and feeling pinned under her glare.

“An older woman gave it to me, Mrs. Ria Cottrell. She assured me you were the person to talk to and assist me. That’s all she said,” he answered quickly. It seemed to make her loosen up but the strain remained in Bree’s shoulders as she gave him a hard stare before sighing, running her hand through the hair that had fallen from the tie holding it back. She took a moment to stare at the table afterwards, eyebrows drawn together again and hand now rubbing her forehead.

“What the fuck, Ria...” she muttered under her breath. She finally looked up at him, breaking the stillness.

“Alright, if she sent you here, then there’s a good reason. Unfortunately, this isn’t the place for what you want to ask. Are you opposed to meeting later at my home? I don’t want to risk others hearing any of this.” He quickly nodded, dropping his hands, confused but hopeful for answers.

“I have to let Chief know I’m leaving early. If you want to go grab anything you think you’ll need, go ahead and do so. I’m only answering these questions once. Plus I need to get the smell of smoke out of my clothes.” Bree stated getting up. She grabbed a small note pad from one of her side pockets and quickly wrote her address.

“Meet me there in two hours. Until then Mr. Lonnit.” Walking away he heard her yelling to Chief Stewart but quickly got up himself. Making a mental checklist of everything he needed while he walked to his car, his focus now on the woman that seemed to know a great deal more than what she initially let on.

Later he found himself knocking on the screen door of what he hoped was the right home, barking soon followed as he heard footsteps coming to the door. Bree was indeed the one who opened the door but she barely greeted him. She seemed preoccupied thanks to their earlier conversation. She had cleaned up well and he was slightly shocked to see her in a sundress with her hair down, curls on full display now, giving her a soft look that wasn’t present before.

“I’ll make some tea if you’d like to sit down,” she said leading him to a small sunroom with plants decorating the space and bookshelves filled with knick knacks and different volumes. A few he recognized and others he didn’t. Some of the titles made him raise his eyebrow questioningly. He’d have to add that to the list of inquiries. He moved to sit at the small table letting his eyes further take in the room. It felt warm and cozy, making him feel at ease despite his apprehension at the strange behavior of his hostess. Charlie was attempting to read more titles of what books he could see when the sounds of shouting and paws coming his way interrupted him.

“Jinx! Get back here!” was all the warning he had before his lap was filled with a very large K-9 attempting to lick him to death. He tired to put up some form of resistance but he was finding it futile.

“Get down! Now!” Finally the furry attacker calmed enough to allow Charlie to look at her, now sitting at his feet with a wagging tail and tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. A mutt, but obviously well taken care of and loved, if the friendliness and grooming were anything to go by.

His hostess appeared in the doorway, a little out of breath from what he guessed was a sudden chase. She straightened up after a moment of taking in her dog’s demeanor, a note of surprise in her expression before it softened.

“I’m sorry, normally she doesn’t bolt like that. At least she’s somewhat remembered her manners,” she stated with her hands on her hips, turning her gaze to the dog now looking back at her, tail still wagging.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not worse for wear, if you don’t count the hair,” he assured as he reached down to pet Jinx’s head, the pet leaning into his hand and enjoying the attention. The action caused Bree to pause. It seemed seeing how well he’d handled the sudden furry intrusion seemed to oddly confirm something to her, if her knowing smile was anything to go by.

“Since you seem to be handling her well, I’ll be right back with the tea.”

Bree disappeared momentarily coming back with a tray and tea service, surprising him. As he found it difficult to find a decent cuppa since he arrived in the US, he hoped it would have some caffeine to help with the headache he still had from the smell around the fire equipment but, from what he could determine, it was herbal. Still, hopefully a step up from the restaurants he had frequented recently. As she poured the tea he moved to pull out the note pad he had written all of his questions in. She offered him the first cup she filled along with moving a honey jar closer to him, an unspoken offer to sweeten his, if so desired. She finished pouring her cup before Bree herself sat down, taking the honey jar after he was done with it. Jinx now contently laying across her owners feet.

“So, if it’s alright with you I’d like to go ahead and start,” Charlie finally said after a he took the first sip. Admittedly the questions he had initially been planning to ask were already thrown out the window, changing when she reacted so bizarrely earlier. He felt he’d inadvertently stumbled onto something. He just needed her to clue him in as to what exactly it was.

“Certainly. I’m sure you have many questions, though I get the sense they may have changed direction.” Giving him a knowing look, she continued to sip her tea.

“Indeed. Now, I gather from our conversation earlier that you are very well informed of the sightings in the area of Boston, Ohio?”

“Yes, while I have not been there myself , we at one point had a similar, though smaller, issue of our own here.” At this admission, he was taken aback.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“You really think that’s the only place that Natives possibly cursed?” She asked, giving a questing look over her tea cup. He’d heard of a few local legends but hadn’t found anything in recent records.

“You said “at one point,” are you implying you no longer have such issues?” This earned the reporter a smile.

“Yes, it’s been taken care of,” came Bree’s enigmatic reply.

Confusion flooded Charlie’s mind again. He was starting to think he’d leave with more questions than answers if this kept up. Apparently he had paused long enough it had given his hostess time to plan another proverbial bucket of water to drop on his head. The next words she spoke were with a smile and they sent his eyebrows to his hairline.

“By the way, how’s the headache?”

“I beg you’re pardon?” He didn’t think it was so obvious. He ran through his actions in the past few hours since they met and couldn’t find a single time that he’d done something to possibly indicate he’d even had one. He’d been too caught up in everything happening to pay it much mind and now that he thought of it, it was gone rather suddenly.

“You really have no idea who you talked to or who she sent you to, do you?” She leaned against the window sill beside her when she said this, the amusement at his expense obvious. He was trying to keep a poker face but knew he failed when she chuckled.

“Why do I feel it has something to do with the fact you have a book called The Encyclopedia of Magickal Herbs?” he finally asked, nervously shifting his glasses. She smiled again, seeing his bewilderment and finally took pity on him. Leaning forward after setting her cup down, she gave him a thoughtful look before she spoke.

“Mr. Lonnit, how familiar are you with Witchcraft?”

He was pulled from his thoughts when said witch made a disgruntled noise as she looked at her hand. She hadn’t changed much in the last year, her hair growing a little longer and her starting into medicine. He was glad both of them kept up through phone calls and emails.

“Maybe I should have dealt the cards.” She was trying to distract from his question about her edginess. In her defense, the rest of his crew didn’t know the particulars of their meeting and beginning their unlikely friendship. She made it clear she wasn’t comfortable with her practices being common knowledge.

“No, I’m not going up against you when you’ve pulled your card tricks.” He groaned, remembering the amount of times he’d lost to her.

“I can’t help that I’m in Lady Luck’s good graces,” she said with a smug smile. He rolled his eyes at that. If that’s what she wanted to call her offerings to Fortuna, he wouldn’t argue. He just also wouldn’t let her shuffle. The goal was to get Bree to tell him what was bothering her, not lose most of the money he’d brought with him. He knew it was getting worse when she began to play with the medallion she wore. A family tradition she had explained, it was made of carved dark red wood, one side held the image of a roaring lion, the other a scorpion posed to strike. She usually left it under her shirt to keep wandering eyes away from it due it’s personal nature.

“In all seriousness, what’s bothering you? You’ve been short tempered all day. Poor Andrea was about ready to cry when you snapped at her over simply handing you dinner,” he pressed hoping to get to the heart of what was going on. After all, if Bree was on edge there was a reason.

“Maybe it has something to do with being several thousand miles from my home and dog?” she offered.

“Understandable but you know Jinx is well taken care of thanks to your mother. This isn’t your home sickness,” he stated with certainty.

“Stress from the fact that even though you hired me to be medic for the film crew, you’ve been pimping me out to most of the small villages that haven’t seen a doctor in who knows how long?” She shrugged her shoulders, a pointed look on her face as she leaned forward to rest her elbow on her knee.

“Although I wouldn’t use such a crass term, I’ll give you that one and I’m forever grateful you went through the extra training to do so.” He sighed as he leaned forward before he continued, lowering his voice. “You’re having another one of you’re feelings again, aren’t you? I’ve asked you to tell me about when they happen.”

At that his friend sighed and leaned back against the wall behind her. She didn’t know when she’d gotten so easy to read by the Brit, but here she was. She didn’t have to be happy about it though.

“I’ve just had a knot in my stomach for the past few hours. I know it’s not something I ate but I keep hoping it is.” Bree crossed her arms, rubbing them to try to sooth herself for the gods knew how manith time since the pit in her stomach stated growing.

“Do we need to move?” he asked concerned for the group as whole. He didn’t care if he seemed crazy for doing it but if Bree said to move, they moved. Her and Charlie had already discussed these feelings. They always seemed to happen before something hit. Last time she managed to help them avoid getting caught in a bombing by having Kevin, their driver, pull over for an extra few minutes to “stretch her legs.” It was getting to the point the others were noticing. Bree knew they were going to start asking questions soon, and honestly she was surprised they hadn’t already.

“No, I don’t get the feeling it’s something like that,” she said, not used to not being able to pick up what was wrong. She’d hoped that between her little ability and the good will they were building, they would be left alone, but now she was worried it wasn’t enough. She started fanning herself with her shirt, to try and get air flow to cool herself down, the medallion around her neck slipping back out of sight. She really hated the warm weather and even after the month they’d been here she still wasn’t used to it.

Charlie was looking at her again. It wasn’t the first time he felt guilty for calling her up when he was offered to do the job of reporting in the middle of this war. After she had answered all of his questions over the course of a few weeks, he had always gone back to her for advice and a read on things to ensure he wasn’t getting ready to make a mistake. That had been exactly why she was the first person that came to mind when the news outlet mentioned he’d need to make sure his crew had someone for first aid. What had surprised him was how quickly she agreed to it, but all Bree could offer was that something told her to come. At the end of the day, he’d take any help from whatever deities she had watching her back.

“Alright, then prepare for me to finally get my money back from last week.” Bringing them both back to the present.

“I’d like to see you try, Lonnit.” Bree finally pulled back from the wall behind her looking at her hand again to see what she could work with. Her friend won’t know what hit him.

After a few rounds, Charlie was staring at her incredulously.

“I thought you said it only worked if you shuffled the cards yourself?!” he said as she took the wad of cash off the table.

“Did I say that?” Bree was trying to look innocent but knew she was failing at his expression, so instead she opted for her best cheeky grin. All the other could to do was huff at her antics.

“This is normally the point in time I’d recommend strip poker but I love you too much as a brother to want to see you naked, even for comedic purposes.” She smiled as she heard him snort.

“And I, you a sister, but that still doesn’t make up for the alarmingly large amount of money you’ve manage to wring out of me since coming to Iraq.” At his statement she gave him another pointed look.

“Consider it payback for the last house call I had to make, that you insisted on, I might add!”

“In my defense, I had no idea that Badra and Mandali still had an active Republic Guard. You know that old man wouldn’t have gotten better without you.” He had a point. It still didn’t make having to be smuggled in and out of the city any better. There had honestly been a moment when she thought they would get caught but luck was on their side. They ran into two boys willing to help them, one only wanted cash, but the other honed in on her Mothman keychain. Apparently he had an interest in legends and mythology, to the point his degree would be related to it when he went to university overseas. It’d hurt to say goodbye to Monty but it meant their safe passage out of the city. They had stuck to small villages for a reason since then.

“In all seriousness, one of these days doing that is going to bite us in the ass. People are still hostile even with the fall of Saddam and you can bet the US military wouldn’t be happy with our little stunts either.” Bree was shaking her head when she thought about the trouble they’d be in if anyone outside the crew knew what they’d been up to. It was bad enough the locals were starting to purposely seek them out for assistance, and the network had to be getting suspicious of the medical supplies she was using. Thankfully she had taken the time to read into any local herbs but in the face of what the country was going through right now, no matter how much magic she worked, it would only go so far.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Bree, you’ll see.” Charlie reassured her before starting to yawn.

The sun had almost fully set now, with the approaching darkness they began to pack up the cards and hopefully settle in for the evening. Their nightly routine was stopped, though, when a knock came to the door. Kevin answered it leaving only a small crack, enough to hold a conversation with whomever was outside at this time of night. Bree’s stomach was doing flips and she was beginning to wonder what was going on the longer the two talked. She could understand only a little of what was being said, having no time to fully learn the language. Kevin finally moved aside to let the man through, dressed in the simple clothing of a shepherd.

“Bree, he says his mother is in bad shape, something about weakness and a bad stomachache for the past few days. They’re not far from us, an hour or so. You up to going tonight?” Kevin asked as he pulled away from the door.

“Is there anything else she’s suffering from? That could be a number of things.” She said already reaching for her packs. Her body oddly settled, not with a feeling of ease but finality. She heard him speaking with the man at the door again.

“You can’t avoid it or them, not anymore.” Came across her mind, sending a chill down her spine. She wasn’t sure who said it but they had never steered her wrong.

“No, nothing else. Sounds simple enough,” their driver answered, breaking her train of thought.

“Who do you want to go with you, Bree?” Charlie asked, he never let her leave by herself, but tonight was going to have to be different. If what they said was true, she wasn’t dragging anyone else into this.

“I think I’ll go on my own on this one. Something tells me I’ll be back before sunrise.” She moved to grab her canteen and put her ball cap on to make sure he didn’t see her face. She hated lying to him and tried to avoid it. She went to grab her kukri, a present from Charlie before they started the job. He thought she would enjoy the superstition related to the knife and wanted to make sure she had some protection when she came here with him. Securing the sheathe to her thigh, she may not be about to prevent whatever mess she was getting into, but she was not going unarmed.

“That’s… not like you, are you sure?” Charlie wasn’t convinced, the thought of her going alone making his own stomach twist.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” Finally looking up at him, she smiled to reassure him. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she said, walking towards the man who’d called on them.

“Bree, I don’t like this. I’m going with you” She stopped and turned to stared at him, something about it making the knot in his stomach worse, but for once, he would not be backing down. He wasn’t letting anything happen to her, not because of him. She sighed as she closed her eyes and shook her head at the expression on his face.

“Okay, but make it quick. I really do want to be back for breakfast.” She finally lamented. He went to grab everything he needed for the trip. It may be a quick one but he still would bring a camera just in case. After he grabbed everything, he turned to Kevin. He’d hoped they wouldn’t need them but he had at least had the foresight to make sure information was put together on everyone in the crew in case a missing person report needed to be sent. Thankfully they’d always been back by the time Bree figured on but this time something felt off, her behavior putting him on edge.

“If we’re not back by sunrise, send those packets into the US military.” Kevin nodded, looking unsure himself. Charlie turned to where Bree and the shepherd stood, motioning for the man to lead the way. The three stepped out of the safe house and turning down the street, slowly walking out of sight.

When six am rolled around everyone in the crew now had that same pit in their stomachs. There was no sign of Charlie or Bree. Kevin started heading as fast as he could to the closest US unit they knew of with the information packets in hand. He was silently cursing when he finally made it to the soldiers after an hour, something had gone horribly wrong.

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