#Dauntless leader fan fiction

[writingismyhappytime]

Dauntless: Daddy Dearest (Part 7)

Eric x OC

Warnings: Language, almost smut, children

I strode forward, dust clinging to my uniform, knowing I looked like shit. The cut on my face itched as it healed, and my boots were caked in mud as I took the stairs three at a time. I was in a hurry, I had to get to Camille and our kid --- I was running late.

The convoy had taken too long to get here.

Camille would think I wouldn't be there!

I shoved past a few Dauntless gathered at the bottom of the stairs, knowing I had to look crazy as I did my best to move quickly. My body ached after the last few days, the fight with the factionless catching up with me. I hadn't waited for anyone else, I'd jumped out of the trucks before they had even stopped rolling.

I had to get to Camille.

I knew I got some crazy glances, but I didn't give a shit. I took the next set of stairs, the next bridge above the Pit --- five more minutes as I was opening the door of my apartment, nervously glancing at the clock above the wall as I stepped inside.

The lights were still on, and --- it smelled like home. I could smell the baby powder, I could see the carrier on the table, the stupid blue bag with everything the kid needed shoved in it. The coffee pot was still percolating, a white cup set in front of it.

"Camille?" I called, shutting the door loudly behind me as I stepped forward. Was she still here? Was I too late? Where was she? Where was the baby ---?

"Eric?" Camille sounded startled, and I turned, seeing her step out of the baby's room, blinking. Her hair was in a half bun on the back of her head, the rest of it collapsing forward to frame that beautiful face I'd been missing. She looked tired, black rings beneath dark eyes, a baby bottle held in her hand.

"Camille." I went to her immediately, clasping her face between my hands as I kissed her. I felt her surprise as my lips met her own, as I kissed her like I would never see her again. I felt her hand curve around the back of my neck after a moment, and finally she relaxed, returning my kiss.

"Hello to you too," she said breathlessly as she finally pulled back, blinking again. "When did you get ---?"

"Back? Just now." My eyes flicked into the nursery, seeing Kai was still in his cradle. He was making gurgling sounds, just loud enough for me to hear. "I tried to hurry, I wanted to take him to daycare ---."

"He doesn't go until tomorrow, Eric," Camille almost looked amused, her arms weaving their way around my neck. "You're a day early, you know that, right?"

"I am?" Was I?

"Yes." Her eyes scanned my face, taking in the dirt smeared across my cheek, the cut. Her brows furrowed, and she finally took a step back, looking me over. "What happened? I thought the op was going to be easy."

"Nothing is ever easy when factionless are involved," I grunted, running a hand through my short hair. I needed a shower, I knew I smelled like dust and oil.  "They attacked trying to steal some supplies, but it was handled."

"You look rough."

"So do you."

She frowned at me, her hands going down to her hips. "You try handling a one month old all by yourself. He screams constantly, he just own't stop. I feel like I haven't slept in days." She groaned, looking down at the bottle in her hand. "You're not leaving again, are you?"

"I don't plan on it." I stepped away from her, just to the door of the nursery. I didn't want to track anymore dirt through the apartment, especially in the baby's room. I gazed at him, seeing his eyes were open as he looked around, and he was flexing his fingers, blowing those ridiculous spit bubbles again. "He seems fine right now."

"He should sleep any minute, I just fed him." Camille crossed her arms. "He usually naps until noon."

So he's on a routine now?

"Are you okay?" I asked after a moment, turning to look at the mother of my child. "Have you been okay ---?"

"Eric, I'm fine, just tired." She frowned at me. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I just... missed you, I guess." I muttered, crossing my arms as I leaned back against the doorway. I was just worried about her, all the shit with Max was starting to make me paranoid. I was going to tell her about it, I didn't want her to be off guard in case something happened.

She softened a little at my words, reaching up to brush a thumb across my cheek. "You know I'm always right here, Eric. I mean, you kind of made sure I couldn't go anywhere when you made me pregnant."

"That was an accident." I turned my face, kissing her palm.

"Yeah, sure it was. You just wanted to make sure I didn't go anywhere." She teased me, and I couldn't help but smile, my tense shoulders finally relaxing.

Yeah, sure.

"I need a shower," I said after a moment. "Give me fifteen minutes?"

"Sure."

~~~~~~~~

My fingers dug into Camille's waist as I pulled her to me, my lips fighting for dominance over hers. She kissed me back hungrily, arching her smaller body into mine as I pressed her into the wall, teeth tugging at her lower lip.

I was just out of the shower, my skin was still damp, my hair clinging to my face. I only had a white towel around my waist, and already it was becoming a nuisance.

I wanted Camille, I wanted her body underneath mine. I wanted her crying out in pleasure as we fucked, her nails dragging down my back like old times.

I wanted it now.

I turned abruptly, taking her with me. Her eyes flashed open in surprise second before we were tumbling back onto the bed, my lips on her skin once more. I sucked on her throat, feeling her fingers wind their way into my hair as I made sure to leave little red marks against her skin. My hand trailed down to her thigh, curling my fingers around it as I lifted it to my hip, allowing me to slip between them.

I was impatient, I'd admit that.

It had been too long, and I wanted her.

If she told me to stop, I would. I would fling myself out the window and put an end to my misery, I couldn't stand this any longer!

I ground my hips into hers, feeling her nails rake against my scalp as I nipped at her throat. I let my hands roam to the button of her jeans, popping it open in seconds. I leaned up reluctantly, my eyes flicking to her as I tugged at the hem of them. She merely lifted her hips, allowing me to wiggle them down her thighs, the material clinging to her skin.

I tossed the bottom half of her clothing out of my way, urging her to sit up so I could take care of the top half. She hesitated a moment before lifting her arms, letting me pull her t shirt off. I figured she was probably a little self-conscious, considering she'd had a baby not too long ago. Her stomach wasn't quite as flat, her breasts had definitely gone up a cup size, but none of that mattered.

She could look like a balloon and I would still love her.

I kissed her forcefully, my tongue parting her lips and immediately demanding of hers. I ran my hands down her chest, cupping her sensitive breasts and making her moan. I gently squeezed them, feeling how fully they filled my hands now, wondering how she would react when I had them beneath my tongue.

She seemed just as eager for this as I was, her nails skimming my shoulders, fingers tugging roughly at my hair. I didn't want to hurt her, I didn't want to be too rough with her, even now I was trying not to push too much. I didn't want another kid right now, I didn't want for either of us to go through another nine months of that, so I had a condom at the ready this time.

We weren't going to fuck up like that again.

I pushed on her shoulders, forcing her back against the bedsheets as I crawled over her once more. I felt the towel fall from my hips, my cock finally free of the itchy material. I pecked at Camille's lips before I drew lower down her body, feathering her collarbone with wet kisses, moving down to the swell of her breasts.

"Eric, wait ---."

I paused instantly, my lips hovering above her skin as I looked up.

Camille looked embarrassed, and after a moment she sat up, forcing me to do so as well.

Did she not want too? It's like my heart sank into my stomach.

"Are you not up for it yet?" I asked hesitantly, lifting my hands from her body. I mean, she did just have a baby, but that was over a month ago, and I thought after so long she could start having sex again.

"I --- well, I want too," she says hastily, her hand rising to brush at my hair. "I just... I don't ---."

"It's fine," I said after a moment, lying through my teeth. My cock was already literally throbbing, ready to go, and she was telling me to stop.

Great.

"I'm sorry," She muttered after a moment, her cheeks flaring red as she looked away. "I just... I can't."

"It's alright, Camille." I reached forward, curling my fingers beneath her chin and causing her to look up. "You just had a baby, your body has to adjust. I get it."

Uh oh.

I watched as tears suddenly welled in her eyes, a miserable look overcoming her face as she curled her knees to her chest, turning away from me completely. I look at her, startled, completely unsure what I was supposed to be doing --- did I say something?

"Camille, what's ---?"

"You're never going to want me again!" She suddenly wept, her hands rising to wipe at her eyes. "I know it's been forever, and I'm so, so sorry, I just, I just ---."

She just cried.

Uh.

Well.

Hmm.

This definitely wasn't a Camille thing, she never cried.

I leaned back on my knees, at a loss for what to do. Here we were, both completely naked, in our bed, and she was curled up in the fetal position crying because she wanted to have sex but didn't want too?

Well, the mood was ruined anyway, so she didn't have to worry about it.

"Camille, baby, it's fine," I cooed, reaching hesitantly for her. She didn't shy away from me as I curled my arm around her shoulder, dragging her into the curve of my arms so I was holding her. "It's fine. We don't have to have sex right now."

"But you want too."

"I always want to fuck, that's nothing new." I brushed my fingers through her tangled black hair. "I can wait."

Or throw myself out a window.

"I'm sorry," She whispered again, snuggling back into me. "I just... I hurt."

"You hurt?" What did she mean? Was something wrong? Was she supposed to still be hurting? Should she go to the infirmary ---?

"My stupid breasts weigh as much as watermelons," she sniffled, shivering slightly in the cool air. "And they hurt, they're sore, and Kai sucks as hard you do on them."

I almost snorted at that, but bit my lip, pressing my face into her hair.

Oh.

"Well, you don't have to breastfeed forever. You're already doing the bottle thing, right?"

"Yeah." She sniffed, and I reached forward, dragging at the blankets until she was covered, letting the cool air brush at my back. "He doesn't like it though."

"Well, who would like giving up a nice pair of breasts for a bottle?" I said after a moment, nuzzling her. "I would be fussy about it too."

She just sighed.

So, I guessed sex was still off the table for me. I'd been so hopeful that when I got back, everything could return to normal. Sure, we'd had a screaming loaf in the other room, but we could still fuck, still get our frustrations out for the day.

Guess not.

Mel briefly crossed my mind, but I'd already shut that door forever. I'd told her no, shoved her off into the floor, and she'd stormed off in a tizzy. I just couldn't stomach the thought of being with anyone other than Camille, of betraying her like that. She meant too much to me, and just the thought of it made my stomach twist with guilt for something I hadn't even done.

"Your breasts look great, though," I said after a moment, trying to ignore the fact I was still hard. That would go away after a few more minutes, or I'd have to go take a shower and deal with it myself. Either way, something had to happen.

"Thanks." Camille didn't sound impressed with the compliment. "I hate this. I hate that everything is so fucked up right now."

"It's not fucked up, this is what everyone goes through."

"Well, everyone else can shove it up their ass, I don't like it." She muttered, pressing her cold nose into my neck. "I want to fuck again, and I want my breasts to stop hurting, and I want a decent nights sleep where I don't have to get up fifteen times because I'm afraid he might roll the wrong way and ---."

"Everything is going to be fine," I pressed my lips against her temple, holding her closer. "Stop panicking, he'll be grown up and we can kick him out before you know it."

"Eric!"

She was hissing at me again.

"See? You're already getting that condescending tone, everything is going back to normal." I teased, earning a pinch to my bicep and a reluctant smile.

Sure, the moment wasn't sexy anymore, and this whole after-birth baby thing really sucked, and I was so horny I was sorely tempted to really toss myself out that window and end it --- I'd fought factionless to get back here, though, and I didn't want to waste all that effort.

I'd just... deal with it.

The best I could.

Until... well, maybe I'd come home and she'd just jump my bones, that would be great. I always enjoyed surprise sex from her, especially when I didn't expect it.

Maybe waiting would make it so much better?

~~~~~~~~

"Don't forget his blanket!"

"I got it."

"And here's his extra bottles --- make sure to remind them to feed him with this, he's allergic to the other milk!"

"Uh, okay."

"And here --- he can't sleep without this dumb bear," Camille shoved the teddy bear into my arms, and I frowned, glancing down at it.

What the fuck did he need all this stuff for?

I looked down at the baby where he sat in his carrier, big blue eyes taking everything in as he looked around. He still couldn't do much, just wave his hands occasionally, but that was about it. Camille had mentioned he's starting to lift his head a bit, so I guessed that was a good sign?

Hell if I knew anything about babies.

"Camille, you're freaking out. He's just going to daycare so you can get some rest."

"I know," She bit her lower lip, staring at our son. "But what if they're mean to him?"

"That's why I'm taking him, remember?" I squeezed her shoulder with my hand. "He'll be fine."

"But will he?" She glanced up at me nervously. "What if he starts crying, and he needs me, and ---?"

"Camille, baby, he's one month old. Right now all he needs is a diaper change."

She glared at me, her hands going to her hips. "Eric, this is serious."

I rolled my eyes, setting the dumb bear in the baby carrier where Kai could hold it between his tiny fingers; he had a pacifier in, so he wasn't screaming like usual. Once we got out of here and Camille took a nap, she'd be fine; right now, she was on the warpath.

"He's only going for a few hours, he'll be fine. I'll check up on him during lunch, and I'll pick him up after work --- and no, I won't be late tonight. Max has a replacement for the armory anyway, they don't need me in there, I'm just supervising for today.  You just... go relax or something." I took both of her shoulders beneath my hands, making sure not to show cowardice and break eye contact. "See Tori, take a nap, a long bath --- whatever you want to do today."

She chewed her lower lip. "A long bath would be nice, I guess."

"Exactly. So you let me take care of little man, and you relax. And no going to the daycare to check on him either," I warned her. "You'll be breaking the rules."

"What rules?" She scoffed, pulling away from me and looking down at our curly-haired kid.

"The ones I just made about you not going to check on him. It's bad enough I have to look like a bitch with his fluffy bag," I teased, gesturing at the baby bag with all the toys and bottles peeking out of it. "I don't need you going behind me acting like I wasn't good enough to drop off a baby."

She rolled her eyes at me. "You're being an asshole."

"It's what I'm good at. Now, let's not worry about this." I brushed her hair behind her ear. "I'm taking him to daycare, you're going to nap and do whatever else you wanna do. The choosing ceremony is soon, so you're going to have a new batch of initiates to scream and take your frustration out at. I know you're excited about it."

"A little," She muttered, crossing her arms. "It'll be nice to get back out there, though. I didn't get much time with the last batch, and look how shitty Four and the others trained them; those morons can't even take apart a gun."

"You're the best trainer we have," I assured, kissing her temple as I slung the baby bag over my shoulder. "Without you, we all crumble."

"Again, being an asshole." She scowled as I slipped my arm beneath the carrier handle, lifting Kai up. He blew a bubble at me, spit rolling down his pale chin.

Intimidating.

He would show all the other newborns who's boss.

~~~~~~~

I frowned as I stepped into the small daycare center in the Pit, immediately assaulted with the scent of disgusting children and their screams. My scowl merely increased when I saw how frantic the woman inside was, trying to gather all the little Dauntless born together so she could do a roll call.

This didn't look promising.

I could run a daycare better then this bullshit.

The front room of the center was a mess, the walls a depressing, dirty yellow with some old posters clinging to them. There were toys already spread about the room, some round bean bags tossed in the corners. Cubbies were full of the kids junk, and I could see a row of knocked over books on top of it.

Huh.

I glanced at Kai, seeing him wave at me with those little curled fingers. I couldn't exactly say the kid was excited, I knew I certainly wasn't. Maybe sending him to daycare this early was premature, and we should wait.

"Oh, hello --- Eric." Someone choked as they said my name, and I turned, my expression still sour as I faced the man near me. I couldn't remember his name, but I'd seen him around; I was fairly sure he was in my initiate class, anyway.

Was he part of this ridiculous daycare?

"I'm here to drop my kid off," I muttered, twitching as a child began to scream in the background. I glanced at Kai, but he didn't seem bothered, just kept blowing little bubbles. That was apparently his favorite thing to do these days.

"Oh. Okay." The man hesitated, dressed in the casual black clothes so many wore on their day off. He was standing by a counter, covered in a chaotic mess of papers.

Was any of this organized?

"Well, what's his name? We'd heard Camille finally had the baby, so a late congratulations is in order," the man said briskly, gathering some papers together and trying to get some order. "Our normal teacher is out today, and Gabrielle is..." he looked at her in dismay, "new."

She looked ready to cry as the screaming children ran circles around her, throwing multi-colored blocks in the air, attacking each other like wild animals.

"Kai." I said after a moment, stiff; I was starting to think this was a bad idea. "Kaiden."

"Right. He's about a month, right?" The man was scribbling on a piece of paper --- did they not even have computers in here? I had a fucking fragile baby, and I was going to leave him in this chaos? He might be Dauntless, but right now he couldn't punch anyone in the face, I was going to still have to do it for him.

This wasn't going to work.

I was taking him home.

About the time I started to tell the man to go fuck off, I heard a shriek, causing both of us to turn and stare. The woman, Gabrielle, was bent over, two children roughly pulling on the long brown braids she'd had running down her shoulders.

That's enough.

This was ridiculous!

"Watch him," I snapped, suddenly sitting my son up on the counter, the man immediately grabbing the carrier with a pale face.

I turned in irritation, striding forward to where the two black haired boys were tugging the poor girl around, much to the giggles of the other children.

I was about to teach all of them a thing about respect; I wasn't their parents, so I didn't give two shits about these little fucks. The only kid I cared about was mine, and if this was the disorderly environment he was going to be exposed too, I would have this place burnt to the ground and the rebuilt under much better supervision.

I grabbed the two punks by the back of their t shirts, easily lifting them both off the ground with yelps. They both gasped as they dangled a few feet above the floor, their little arms flailing in their black sleeves, and the room grew ominously quiet as the other kids stared with wide eyes.

"That," I said, "is not way to treat your teacher."

I was tempted to shake them for effect, but I did have some restraint. The girl immediately backed away, tears in her eyes as she reached for her hair. She was just a kid, maybe graduated just last year from the initiation. She probably had no idea what to do, and she wasn't exactly garnering the respect of this hellions.

Kai wasn't going to stay here in this chaos.

"Do you know what happens to soldiers in Dauntless who disobey their superiors?" I asked, turning both the dangling children so they were looking up at me; they didn't weigh much, they were probably only six or seven, and I wondered if their parents knew what bastards they were. They should be in school soon enough, begin their regular teachings, and they couldn't go in acting like animals; we were Dauntless, we had a reputation to uphold, and this wasn't going to cut it.

Both boys eyes were wide, and they were twins from the looks of it. Their faces were turning red, so I knew the collar of their shirts were becoming uncomfortable for them.

I hated children.

I turned, tossing both children down onto the gray bean bags I saw in the corner. They sailed a few feet before crashing into the soft material, their eyes becoming the sizes of saucers.

"Those who cannot follow orders in Dauntless, do not stay in Dauntless. You keep up this behavior, you'll be turned factionless." I snapped, crossing my arms across my chest. "Is that what all of you want? To leave your families, be forced out in disgrace where you live on the street and starve?" I bark, hoping to hold all of their attention.

Ahh, blessed silence.

I glanced around, but none of the children were offering me any lip, so that was a plus. The mood I was in, I'd probably shove them all into the chasm and tell their parents just to have another one, and do better this time.

"All of you, line up," I snapped, my voice thundering through the rather small, disorderly room. "Up against the wall, tallest to shortest."

The children didn't immediately move, but when I glowered, they scrambled.

Heh.

I wished my soldiers did this, it would be much more entertaining.

I waited, watching as the kids muttered and shoved at each other, trying to find the right place in line. I made my way back to the counter where the man and the crying girl stood, the man still clutching Kai's carrier.

"You have to remind them they're soldiers to be, you can't let them run around like that," I said casually as I leaned against the counter, seeing the paperwork I needed to fill out. "Is it always like this?"

"N-not when Margaret is here." The man stuttered, flushing a deep red. "She handles them much better then us. We're still in training."

He is?

Well, whatever. From the looks of him, he should already know his place.

"I'm not going to leave my son somewhere that I'm not sure of his safety," I said, my hand going to the carrier. "If you can't control this pack of rats, you shouldn't be here. You either instill fear or respect from them, there is no in between."

"They're little devils," the girl finally muttered, a dark scowl on her face as she brushed her hair over her shoulders. "They should all be shot."

"Gabrielle!" The man hissed, immediately sending me an apologetic look; ah, she must not know who I was. She had no idea that I was in leadership, that I was the right hand to Max --- of course I would be bringing this to his attention as well.

"Are there just two of you taking care of all these children?"

"Other volunteers come in later throughout the day. The children are always rambunctious in the mornings." The man explained.

I glanced over, narrowing my eyes as I saw the two boys shoving at each other, trying to knock the other out of line.

"Knock it off!" I snarled, and immediately they both went still, shoulders tensing. I glanced at Kai, reaching forward to shuffle his blanket a little higher on him, feeling his little hand wrap around my finger when I got close enough. Camille must yell a lot around him, because he certainly wasn't phased.

"Can you handle them and my kid too?" I asked, completely serious as I looked between the two of them. "If I come back and even one hair is out of place ---."

"Your son will be perfectly safe with us, I assure you, Eric," the man burst hastily, waving his hands in a placating manner. "Everything is fine here! We're just --- understaffed."

Ahuh.

"I'll be back at lunch to check on him." I said, gently tugging my finger out of his grip. His brows furrowed, but he didn't immediately begin screaming. "I assume this place will be in much better working order by then."

Or else.

I didn't say it, but it was out there, and the man was muttering apologies and affirmations at me as I finished filling out the paperwork for Kai.

I hoped this wasn't a mistake.

[straykidsupdate]

Stray Kids Is Your Next K-Pop Obsession — Here’s Why

Just a little over a year after exploding onto the K-pop scene, the young nine-member boy band Stay Kids stands onstage thousands of miles away from their home in Seoul. The New Jersey Performing Arts Center is packed with thousands of fans, called STAY. The majority female audience — strikingly diverse in ethnicity and age — is shouting the opening “na-na”s of “My Pace,” the band’s gritty breakout hit about trusting in your own path and not comparing yourself to others. It’s one thing to hear it on the track, but another entirely to hear it thundering from nearly 3,500 young people in a cavernous space. It’s an empowering, rollicking battle cry.

K-pop has often been likened to a “factory” by the media — a “machine” that pumps out bands on a conveyor belt and hands them hollow, algorithmic pop songs to lip-sync as they move in perfect synchronization. The new generation of South Korean pop groups proves that stereotype resoundingly false. And few subvert it more than Stray Kids — with members Bang Chan, Woojin, Seungmin, Hyunjin, Changbin, HAN, Lee Know, Felix, and I.N — whose inventive mix of EDM, rap, and rock rebel against the norm, and whose sincere, self-penned lyrics are inspiring the rising generation to speak up, because they have something to say.

“We want to be remembered as a team that not only makes good music, but makes the kind of music that really influences and helps people,” fox-faced vocalist and youngest member I.N tells Refinery29 ahead of the second the band’s two sold out shows in Newark, the first stop on the on the U.S. leg of their “UNVEIL Tour 'I am…' world tour. “That's one of our biggest dreams.”

“I don't think it's fair for anyone to say K-pop is a machine. It’s a stereotype." BANG CHAN

Ingrained in Stray Kids’ DNA is their creative agency. Bang Chan, Changbin, and HAN — known as 3racha — have written and produced the majority of the group's discography, but all nine members have had writing credits on their work, which isn't often seen from young bands in the industry. This ownership has allowed them to experiment and play with their sound, and even their videos — many of their visuals are of them singing and goofing off, filmed on GoPros (as one does when not questioning your entire existence). It’s also allowed them to showcase each member’s versatility. While many K-pop group members usually have defined roles within a group, there’s a joke within the fandom that Stray Kids sometimes feels like it has nine rappers and nine vocalists — whether it’s vocalist Lee Know dishing a scorching opening rap in “District 9,” or rapper Hyunjin letting his gentle tenor shine in “불면증 (Insomnia).”

It’s also this personal, hands-on approach that not only allows them to tell their stories as authentically as possible, but has allowed them to speak even more directly to their fans. This line of communication to the generation they speak for is the most vital to their success thus far, so the perception that their work could be anything but personal is ill-conceived.

“I don't think it's fair for anyone to say K-pop is a machine. It’s a stereotype,” says Bang Chan, turning contemplative. “But I think the reason why people might think that is because the way K-pop is built is very well-organized, and performance-wise everything is precise and well-crafted. What some people probably don’t understand is that we think of it as a gateway that allows artists to reach out to their fans.”

Stray Kids discography weaves a narrative that begins with the fictional dystopia of District 9, in which they are prisoners of a suffocating system that tries to define them. They then explored their own identities throughout the group’s I Am… trilogy as they grappled with questions that plague both them and their fans, who are growing up along with them.

“The question that we always come back to, that everyone asks themselves, that I ask myself is, 'Who am I?'” says 21-year-old Australia-raised leader Bang Chan. “I think I've been thinking about that from a really young age. Honestly right now I haven't found out who I am, and I'm still trying to figure that out. Through our music we wanted to express that and reach out to those who feel the same way, so we can have a connection with one another.”

In March, they released a new, more confident chapter of their story, Clé 1: Miroh, led by the massive, boisterous single “Miroh.” Pulsing with brassy beats and lion’s roars, the song, according to rapid-fire rapper Changbin is about “gaining the confidence to face new challenges.” The visual, set in a Hunger Games-esque world, finds the members organizing a rebellion and literally grabbing the mic from the elite class in charge.

If anything, this is the machine that Stray Kids actively fight against — societal expectations and unmanageable pressure put on young people today. And while songs on Clé 1: Miroh such as “Victory Song” and “Boxer” share the same dauntless spirit, the group still leave room for vulnerability. “19” is a haunting, echoing song written by HAN about his fears as he teeters on the cusp of adulthood.

“When I was 19 [Koreans calculate age differently], going into my twenties, I was excited to become an adult,” says HAN. “But as the time actually came closer, I had so many emotions and thoughts running through my head. I was scared, but I wanted to express my feelings to my fans who are going through the same thing through this song.”

Before Stray Kids debuted as a group, they were on a self-titled musical competition TV series. Felix and Lee Know were cut from the group, to the devastation of the other members, but were later added again after proving themselves once more. This emotional rollercoaster that the members endured is partially to thank for their close bond, and why the group treat each other and their STAYs like family. That and the examples set by their own families growing up.

“When we were young, whenever we went through hard times, my mom would always try to cheer me and my sisters up,” says Australian-Korean Felix, whose deep bass tone is in striking contrast to his lithe stature. “This example of loving and supporting one another is something I carry with me constantly. She inspired me to want to help other people, make others feel better by surprising or comforting them.”

“I'm so thankful to my mom for giving me unconditional love,” adds honey-voiced eldest member Woojin. “I learned a lot from her — she takes so much care in how she interacts with other people and keeps good, healthy relationships with the people around her as well.”

This all helped build the foundation of what Stray Kids is today — a group of young people who, by acknowledging their fears and faults, want nothing more than to unite with those who understand them across language and geographic borders, using the tools at their disposal. And even with only a year under their belts, it looks as if their message is already resonating.

“Each and every one of you have your own special story, right?,” Bang Chan said as the Newark show neared its close, and after fans finished a vibrant “We love you!” chant to the nine young men on stage. “[...] So I feel like today is not just STAY and people being in this beautiful venue: it’s a thousand stories all inside this really big space. I’m just glad that through music — and through the music that we make — we can gather all these stories and relate to each other. I think that’s really fantastic.”

Article Source: here

[dreams-got-dimmer]

The Roommate (Eric Coulter AU)

PROMPT: Dauntless makes a sudden change to there initiation housing thinking it would be better for the initiates to be paired with an actual member of dauntless in hopes that it will decrease the amount of fowl play and increase rankings that are actually well deserved.

It just so happens that the first year that this new housing is in place, is the year that Isabella is transferring from candor with her best friend John in tow who has also brought along the embarrassing nickname of calling her bean or beans.

It’s not a question to if she’ll survive initiation, but will she survive living with Eric?

In this AU Isabella will be 18 while Eric and others like Four are 22

Word Count: 1,382

Warnings: none

Note: Hey all! this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction let alone a story. If you would like me to continue with this please let me know!!! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this AU. And again if you want me to continue please show me some love or let me know what I can improve upon. (: enjoy

Chapter 1

Everything had been easy so far. My choice to transfer. The blood from my cut dripping over the coals of dauntless. Ignoring my parents surprised yelps and cries at my choice. Even the act of getting on the train and plummeting down to the net hadn’t been all that challenging either. I’m not sure whether it was because I was mentally prepared for this day or the fact that my best friend, John was along for the same ride that made it so easy.

Everyone had jumped and we were now awaiting instruction from Four, the groups trainer throughout initiation.

John leaned over to me his lips curling into a smile, “You excited Beans?”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” I whispered to him through gritted teeth. Normally I wouldn’t really mind the nickname he had adopted for me, but now that we transferred it would just be embarrassing if anyone were to overhear him calling me it.

“I can’t just stop, I’ve practically been calling you that since birth,” he shrugged “there’s nothing you can do to stop me from saying it either,”

I huffed not necessarily happy with his answer, but in no mood to start fighting with him. I was going to continue talking, but Four finally spoke up

“Consider this your lucky day initiates. We’ve decided to give you all a fair chance at proving yourself. A lot of foul play happens outside of the actual training and to combat that it seems the most logical way is to give you personal housing,” he pauses for a moment and all the initiates start murmuring excitedly. Four looked nothing but business. He was tall and lean with short brown hair. A permanent looking frown was etched into his face. And even with the frown he was in no way intimidating. He seemed like someone who knew how to command authority and lead others, which is maybe why he is a trainer.

The idea of not having to live in communal quarters was extremely appealing. We’d be the first group to have our own living space and not have to deal with the stress that someone may stab another in another in the eye with a butter knife.

“Don’t get too excited,” Four states. “It’s not as personal as you may think, you all have been assigned a roommate that is already a member of dauntless. You have no choice in who it is and they do not either. If you are not happy with who you are rooming with then that’s too bad. Be grateful that they won’t try to kill you,” he smirks “Hopefully,” the excitement was lost in all of us after that.

A woman by the name of Lauren began handing up our room assignment papers. She claimed to be the instructor for the dauntless born initiates, and I believe it. She looked for more intimidating than Four. Tattoos ran up her built arms. She had dark raven hair and one nasty resting bitch face. No one could control that, though. So even with that face that doesn’t correlate to the personality she may actually have, but besides I didn’t plan to get to know her anyway.

I get handed my paper and I nod my thanks and she just walks off not acknowledging it at all.

“Initiation will begin tomorrow. Take this time to eat and introduce yourself to your new roommate. I’ll bring you all to the dining hall” Four says while turning around not waiting for us to start following.

As we get deeper and deeper into dauntless the chill starts to creep up my back. I don’t know why I hadn’t given much thought to how cold it may be underground. Or how much sunlight I’ll miss touching my face. Unease washes over me. Did I make the right decision? It’s like John had read my mind.

“Hey, don’t worry, you know that you belong here right? We both do,” he wraps his arm around my shoulders as we walk. Easing a bit of that chill that was in my spine. “Besides, I won’t let you fail out. Don’t be worried you’re definitely more prepared than a few others here,” he snickers a bit as I survey the crowd of trainers realizing he’s right. There were way more boys than girls and even with the gender difference a lot of them looked shorter, scrawny and scared out of their wits. Like they didn’t mean to let their blood drop over the coals at the choosing ceremony.

I smiled up at him “thanks, J. You really know how to blow up this ego,” I chuckled. He was right, though. I know I had a slight upper hand over most of them. John and I worked out quite regularly together back in Candor and we knew the basics of fighting, but other than that I was probably just as clueless as the rest. I wasn’t going to let my one strength of being strong be seen, though. I want to keep others in the dark deciding on wearing baggier clothes until I really had to show my strength. I stood around 5’2” or 5’3”, but I was a lot stronger than anyone would imagine for how short I was. You could see it on my body with the thick thighs, defined arms and wide lats.

John didn’t say anything back to me as we finally made it to the dining hall. Every faction could eat together like this, but honestly, I would much rather eat in my own room. Knowing that I would be able to do that soon enough was a relief because you would be lying to yourself if you thought this D hall food was amazing.

After John and I grabbed your food it was surprising because all the initiates ended up sitting together. Maybe because it was all we knew so far. I don’t think any of us would dare trying to sit with Four or Lauren even though they most likely wouldn’t bite our head off for it.

A boy with short black hair spoke up “So, who did everyone get for their roommates?” There was curiosity in his eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing told me he was from Erudite. Everyone started going around the table saying their roommates. The names didn’t really mean anything to me because I didn’t know a single person here. It was getting close to me so finally decided to take a peek at my paper. Eric Coulter room 225 was typed on the paper showing the location within the compound and his number and email. There was no other information, but I knew he was a leader to Dauntless and that was it.

The boy with the black hair cleared his throat at me expectantly. I threw a displeased look at him annoyed with his urgency, but I answered anyway “uhh.. Eric Coulter,” I shrugged as I folded up the paper. Everyone went silent around me stopping their eating and side chatter to look up at me. “What?” I asked confused. Even John was gaping at me. I glared at him frustrated that I was apparently so out of the loop. “You know he’s the leader, right?” John narrowed his eyes at lack of fear. “Yeah, and?” I bark at him, “What’s the problem?” I look at him while everyone else looks at me. “The problem is he’s the biggest dickhead in this compound. He chews you up and spits you out,” John had a concerned look on his face for me, “there are so many stories of him almost killing the initiates, most of them being him hanging them over the chasm...” He trails off. I huff frustrated they he didn’t think I could handle myself with the so called ‘biggest dickhead in the compound’. Apparently, no one else thought I could handle him either and honestly I was up for the challenge.

“Well fuck it. I don’t give a shit if he’s the biggest dickhead here. I can handle it,” I stand up suddenly, “You know what, I’m gonna go find him now,” I stormed off mentally preparing myself to try and make it through this labyrinth that is Dauntless.

[carrotwine4captainhops]

Major Character Death as a creative writing tool

I’ve always been interested in the craft of writing. I’ve been mulling over the way Major Character Death is used as a tool in fiction for awhile, and after watching the extremely problematic death of Quentin Coldwater, (and the self-congratulatory responses of the show’s producers who apparently believe they invented the concept) I thought I’d give you the the high school level compare and contrast MCD essay you didn’t really need or want.

Before I start, I want to be clear that MCD as a tool is not a bad thing by itself. Many, many fiction authors use it in a very calculated way, and as long as it serves the story well, they’re doing their job. Many essays and books about the craft of writing discuss its use because it is just another tool in the creative writer’s tool box. When done well, it makes you cry in a good way; when done badly, the death feels like a cheap gimmick to force an emotion without doing much work as a story teller. The latter is definitely what happened with the season finale of The Magicians.

If season 4 of the magicians had been a novel, it would have been sent back for major revisions before publication.

The first MCD that came to mind while watching the season 4 finale of The Magicians, wasn’t technically an MCD, but may as well be: the ending of the Golden Compass trilogy. The two protagonists have recently fallen in love, and make the difficult decision to return to never see each other again as a way to save the multiverse from the damage caused by traveling between worlds. They won’t even be able to contact each other, and will have to live out their lives as if the other had died.

It was incredibly painful to read (it’s the first book I cried over), but it was beautifully written and a very logical conclusion that the author set up from book one. The books are about (among many other things) the failures of adults and authority when they make selfish decisions, and by choosing to put the health of the universe above their own happiness, they made the bravest, most adult decision they could. It’s a message about the hope that younger generations can fix the things that their predecessors broke if they’re brave enough. The Magicians almost had a similar message.

The second MCD I thought of was that of “Wash” from Firefly. Like a lot of other fans of the show, I got angry at this death in the movie Serenity (essentially the series finale of the TV show). Wash was the comedic relief and voice of optimism in a dark and dystopic show. While Quentin was clinically depressed, and, in the words of Margo Hanson, ”moderately socially maladjusted”, he also acted as the voice of hope to his peers. Both characters were the emotional core of their shows, which was a big reason why they were chosen by their perspective creators as the deaths that would be most felt by the audience. They both got a funeral scene, to really drive home how much the other characters (and by extension, the audience) would be impacted by their death.

In Wash’s case, having his death be accidental impalement during a crash didn’t feel entirely satisfying or necessary. It felt like a lazy way to make the audience sad and motivate the rest of the characters to Really Get That Baddie… BUT, this cheapness is balanced by the symbolism of an outlaw pilot literally dying at the helm of the ship he loved while trying to save the world. It also didn’t send any problematic messages to the audience. Wash was not the protagonist or a “self-insert” the way Quentin was; he wasn’t suicidal or part of an underserved minority group (and make no mistake, by making Quentin sexually fluid/bisexual, the producers signed themselves up for a more thoughtful treatment of his death, if it had to happen.)

The message from Wash’s death is one that is very familiar to readers of genre fiction MCDs: simply: “not everyone lives” and “people who put themselves in high-risk situations sometimes die”. Both of which are painful but fair messages to absorb.

This same tactic was used again by Whedon with Agent Coulson in The Avengers. As an optimistic “plot-armor-free” side character who had become a fan favorite, he was given an entire arc in the movie that the audience wasn’t expecting, made to be even more loveable, and then killed off in a long emotional death scene which was then used in the third act turning point of the movie. Whedon made it clear in interviews that the whole death was coldly calculated to squeeze emotion from the audience, and up the stakes in a way that a large body count couldn’t. It upset a lot of fans, it wasn’t perfect, but it was well done and fitting for the narrative and made the movie stronger, and, again, he wasn’t a member of a minority group. (And as a side note, a different creative team knew how popular Coulson was and managed to resurrect him for his own TV show and managed to do it in a way that wasn’t flip-his resurrection had consequences that lasted at least until season 5, the current season).

There is no mitigating balance to Quentin’s death. He was suicidal  from day one of the series, and he left via (a purposefully plausible) suicide. His first question, once he realizes he’s dead, is not, “Did the plan work?” or “is Eliot OK?” (the friend he’d been working so hard all season to save) or even “is Julia/Alice/Josh/all my other friends ok?” These are questions that would be plausible and fitting in a character who’s journey has about helping friends and the world out of tough situations. But no, the first thing he asks is “did I finally kill myself?” 

With one sentence, his character returned to the self-centered, timid, low-confidence, suicidal mess he’d been established as within five minutes of the show’s pilot. He had no self-realization until after watching his own funeral, at which point he happily and peacefully goes to heaven. At best, that’s heavy-handed symbolism. At worst, it’s erasing all of his character growth and making his entire story pointless, while sending the very dangerous message to the audience. 

The writers stated in interviews that they made his death all about suicide on purpose, and now (as of this writing) they continue to refuse to grapple with how problematic that is.

Another MCD that seemed to do the same thing was Tris from the Divergent series. Like Quentin, she was the protagonist. Also similar to Quentin, her arc was almost too on the nose: she was born into a clan literally named “Abnegation” and indoctrinated from birth to sacrifice herself for her community. She wasn’t even allowed to look into mirrors in case she caught even a smidgen of self-regard. And how does her story end? By her sacrificing her life to get the “big baddie” and save her friends and family. 

Like Quentin’s death, a lot of her character growth appeared to be erased in the last few chapters of the book. Prior to Book 3, Tris had been learning to question her upbringing, to think for herself, that it’s ok to look for happiness for oneself, and that selfishness takes many forms, not all of them bad. When she makes the decision to kill herself in the end, it left a bad taste in my mouth. The plot didn’t require her death, (for example, there were other characters who could have gone in her place, and as a leader at that point, the more difficult decision probably would have been to send someone else on that mission and learn to live with the guilt). Her death and the manner of it, seemed to say, “just kidding, actually the only way to realize your self-worth is to is sacrifice your happiness and entire self for your community.”

Sound familiar?

Quentin Coldwater was just starting to learn (and because he had an audience, to teach) many of these same things. For three and a half seasons, we see him form strong friendships (when he thought he couldn’t); help people (when he thought he was useless), pursue romantic relationships (when he thought no one could love him); he lives an entire lifetime with Eliot during a quest on alternate timeline, where he’s shown having to make the difficult decision every day, to stay alive, to keep working on the tedious and almost hopeless task of completing the puzzle to finish a quest, and then it turns out that the answer to the puzzle all along WAS that daily struggle. Later, in season 4, he tells us that he hopes to be a dad (again) someday; he shows more and more confidence in his magical abilities every season. All of that was erased by the way his death was written.

Even with the uneven messaging of Tris’ death, there is at least lots of room for interpretation. I believe the author was trying to show her final sacrifice as a way of reclaiming part of her upbringing that wasn’t toxic. The character went through a rebellious phase during book one, during which she seems to reject all parts of her former life, even the good ones, right after leaving the Abnegation community for the hedonistic clan of Dauntless. It would definitely be good growth for her, as part of self-actualization, to accept the good parts of her upbringing. I don’t necessarily believe that’s the message we get at the end, but we at least have the possibility. Not everyone has reacted negatively to the way Quentin’s death was handled, so maybe there is more possibility of interpretation than what I see. I’m willing to be proven wrong, but nothing I’ve seen from critics or the showrunners statements has yet convinced me.

Another (highly speculative), parallel I couldn’t help but make over the last few days, is between the Magicians showrunners’s treatment of this MCD and Joss Whedon of a decade ago. His recent fall from grace has finally allowed more critical examination of his past works, but I remember how, at his peak, he could do no wrong. He was the voice of hollywood feminism. He was lauded by critics, peers, and fans. Any voice that questioned him was mocked, dismissed, and even harassed. Anyone else remember when critics call “Dollhouse” a feminist show? None of that has not aged well, has it?

The Magicians producers, riding high off of critical acclaim of Quentin’s homosexual romance in Season 3x05, had ample chance to make the braver choice: to allow a queer suicidal boy make the choice to keep fighting every day despite how hard it was; To break rank with 99% of other TV shows and allow his homosexual romance to be explored and given the same consideration as the hetersexual romances. Instead, they made him kill himself and be happy about it, literally saying in interviews that he had nothing left to live for. Without even addressing his feelings for Eliot. They buried yet another gay, all in the name of a shock-value gimmick, and they think they’re being “revolutionary” and that anyone critical of their choices is “just sad”.

There are about a thousand different ways season 4 could have gone that would have made the writers’ intended message less problematic, more impactful, and more satisfying, and none of them involve a MCD OR a trite “happily ever after”. Consider, for example, that Zelda could have completed her redemption arc in some kind of sacrifice similar to quentin’s. Everett was much more her “big baddie” than he was Quentin’s, it’s just strange that she never got to really confront her mentor-turned-enemy. Consider that, since Quentin’s main focus and motivation all season was to get Eliot back, that he actually succeeds, but, their reunion and relationship is strained. If we must push this idea that “magic comes from pain”, think how much more painful it would be to be to have Eliot finally confess his love to Quentin, but now Quentin is unable to pursue that relationship because of all the trauma he’s suffered at the hands of Eliot’s possessed body all season. Consider that he finally breaks under the strain and excuses himself from further questing, which would easily allow Julia, Kady, or Alice to get more screentime. (I mean, this is just stuff off the top of my head. For a hundred other ideas, check out Archive of Our Own).

They did just about everything wrong with this particular major character death, and I don’t think their choice is going to age well in the years to come.

[vitaevandal]

Brave New World

Category: Fan Fiction Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric/OFC Rating: PG-13 (language), eventually M Genres: Drama, romance, humor, angst, slow burn, some fluff Disclaimer: This a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line.

A/N: This is based on a request from and discussions with @frecklefaceb and @clublulu333. It was requested as a one-shot but I had an idea that a one-shot wouldn’t do justice, so this is shaping up to be a longer fic. Here goes.

Summary: When disaster strikes the City and leaves it in ruins, Eric, one of the few survivors, must evacuate Dauntless. He finds himself in the unknown world beyond the wall, which seems to have suffered the same fate. unsure of what has become of the City he called home. Everything Eric knows has been stripped away, and he is forced to forge surprising new relationships. Will Eric ever make it back home to Dauntless? Is there even a home to go back to?

Chapter 1 - Good Morning Sunshine

It had been two days, and Eric still wasn’t accustomed to being woken by harsh sunlight bleeding through his eyelids. He’d tried closing the blinds to darken the room, but he discovered that leaving the windows open to let in a breeze was the only way to alleviate the infernal morning heat. Beads of sweat had already formed on his face, as the temperature was drastically lower at night, requiring a layer of blankets that ended up suffocating him as the sun rose and began roasting him in the bedroom like a turkey in an oven. Not that he’d ever seen a turkey in person, Dauntless wasn’t exactly overrun by wildlife, but he’d learned about the absurd custom of Thanksgiving during his days in Erudite and seen enough pictures of the deformed birds to wonder why anyone would want to eat something that looked like it had a ballsack hanging off of its face. For the first time he realized how much he’d taken the climate-controlled caverns of Dauntless for granted.

But at least the walls of the still unfamiliar home provided some shade and insulation. When he first stepped out of the pod, he felt nearly blinded by what seemed like death rays from the sky. Following immediately was the dry, sweltering heat that literally took his breath away. Disorientation had taken hold of him as he had cracked his eyes open to slits, slowly adjusting to the brightness. The vast expanse of hard-packed, cracked earth and sparse dottings of queer plant life told him he had landed somewhere out west, according to his geography lessons. Everything looked...dead. As dead as he knew almost every living thing in his former home most likely was.

He turned slowly and was surprised to find himself facing a small collection of five closely set houses, all bland and identical save for their color. A subdivision, he believed this was called, though why anyone would choose this fucking wasteland as home baffled him. Every single one of them looked deserted, windows dark, vehicles absent from driveways, not a soul in sight. He supposed they could be holed up inside, but he thought it more likely that the occupants had had enough warning of the impending disaster to pack up their necessities and attempt to flee to safety. He wished Dauntless had had that much of a warning, though he wasn’t sure even that would’ve changed the outcome.

***

The blaring of the alarm was almost, but not quite, enough to drown out the panicked screams throughout the compound. He heard the distant thumps and crashes of various structures crumbling in the distance, getting closer by the second as he stood in the control room. The outer walls and ceilings, closest to the surface, were the first to go; everything else was falling like dominos in their wake. He was trying to assess the magnitude of the situation through the camera feeds, but they disappeared almost before he could catch a glimpse as they too fell victim to the destruction. Though he didn’t need to see to know it was pure chaos.

Of course there were disaster plans in place, but they encompassed things like earthquakes and attacks from the factionless; nothing like what was happening now. As drills had taught them, people scrambled to get inside doorways and to the armory, where the construction was more fortified, but even those were collapsing under the force of this unknown attack. Those that kept their cool and followed the action plan were ironically the first to go, having gathered in clusters to the supposedly more stable areas and subsequently buried en masse. Eric watched the rest of his faction scurry around in mindless terror like headless chickens, many of them flocking to the Pit seeking safety in numbers, and he had time to think, “So much for being brave and prepared.” He sneered in disgust, thinking that if these people were what his beloved faction were made up of, perhaps they deserved to die. He thought he chose only the best of the best for Dauntless, but clearly when the going really got tough, very few measured up.

Eric had the invaluable talent of keeping his cool in even the most calamitous of situations, an essential quality to being an effective Leader, so while he certainly didn’t lack the courage to run headlong into the melee and attempt to rescue his moronic faction members, logic always prevailed for him, and not only were there protocols in place he was trained to follow, he recognized immediately that any rescue attempts were futile. He had to put the faction at large first even if it cost lives. The sacrifice of the few for the survival of the many, unfortunately.

And so, the faction leaders and their lieutenants were the priority. If the City were to fall, the most qualified should be the ones to survive in order to rebuild. Therefore, these chosen few were the only ones aware of the outside world beyond the City walls, and provided the means to escape to it in the event of the annihilation of the City. He fled to the appointed evacuation point, knowing that despite its reinforcements even that would only hold for minutes, and stepped into his assigned pod. He didn’t know the science behind it, that was Erudite’s department - was it some kind of teleportation device, or form of air travel? - but he didn’t have time to question whether he would survive the journey. Nor would he have any way of knowing if the other faction leaders had escaped. There was no deliberation really - to remain here was certain death.

The moment he stepped inside, the steel door shut forcefully behind him. A female robotic voice intoned, “Evacuation initiated,” he felt a gentle lurch as the pod ascended through the pneumatic chamber, and the last Eric knew was total darkness.

***

Eric climbed out of bed and donned the same clothes he’d been wearing since his arrival in this hellhole: fitted black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black combat boots. His nose immediately wrinkled at the distinct odor emanating from his unwashed clothes and sweat-grimed body, but thus far he had come across no clothes in the closets that would fit his large frame, so he was stuck with what he had. He trudged wearily downstairs, his desire for coffee so strong it was practically an ache, and began to consider his plan of action for the day.

He had spent the first day scouring the houses for any necessary supplies he could immediately think of: food, clothing, weapons, and, since he had quickly ascertained that the electricity and plumbing were no longer functioning, bottled water and batteries. He collected his findings in the center house he had chosen at random to take up residence in, knowing he would think of more potentially useful items but would make a list later; for the time being he was still slightly overwhelmed by shock. Today he thought he might try the remaining vehicles in the garages to see if any of them were running, hoping to further explore the surrounding terrain. But what if he couldn’t find the keys? Could he hotwire a car? The garage doors operated on electricity; could he figure out how to open them manually? There had always been generators in Dauntless. Eric was an intelligent guy, but it’s not like they taught Survival Skills for the Apocalypse in school. He took a deep breath and said to himself, “One step at a time.”

Eric jumped as he suddenly heard the sound of rustling coming from what he thought was the kitchen. He pulled his gun from his holster and descended the stairs carefully; bursting into the kitchen, he drew his gun, and yelled, “Don’t move!”

The sight of the girl standing in front of the open cabinet actually at first almost made him laugh. She wore an oversized, obnoxiously flowery sundress, floppy straw hat, and yellow galoshes, and a white stripe ran down the length of her nose. She looked like a drunken Amity refugee. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

For a moment she continued to rummage through the cabinet’s contents, seemingly unconcerned with the gun pointed at her head. Then she turned to face Eric and briefly eyed him up and down, taking in his attire and piercings. She snorted and said, “The end of the world hits and you decided to raid Hot Topic? Great, I’m sure you’ll be loads of help.”

Eric strode forward and grabbed her by the arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She had resumed her inventory of the cabinets, replying, “I’m checking the empty houses for supplies, what does it look like I’m doing?”

His mouth had fallen slightly open at her brazenness. “Well obviously this house isn’t fucking empty, so stop going through my shit!”

She turned to him again, hands on her hips, and retorted, “Technically this isn’t your shit, it belonged to the person that used to live here, so as far as I’m concerned it’s fair game.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he snarled. “More like every man for himself. I don’t care where you go, just get the fuck out of this house.”

She sighed, wriggling out of his grasp. “I don’t know how long you’ve been around here, but I’ve been out here for almost a week, and near as I can tell, we’re the only two living people for miles. Hell, we’re the last two living people on the planet for all I know. So either we work together, or we die.”

She grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically. “I’m Madeline, but I go by Maddy. Welcome to the neighborhood.” She smiled brightly. “I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends!”

Eric groaned and began to wonder if he wouldn’t be better off dead after all.

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: MOVIE REVIEW: Da 5 Bloods

(Image courtesy of Netflix)

DA 5 BLOODS— 4 STARS

In the same way this website touts “every movie has a lesson,” every movie also has its politics. Academy Award winner (damn, that sounds great to read) Spike Lee is never shy about his level of challenging civics, nor should he be. His movies are his earned and rightful rostrums. Stitched with the electrified barbed wire of echoed history, Da 5 Bloods is infused with warranted politics that make it more than its retirement adventure and war movie ingredients. With stern strength in this Netflix release, the rants of old men give way to the treatises of ghosts.  

The diatribes and tirades in question come from four Vietnam veterans in their mid-60s. Eddie (Broadway star Norm Lewis), Melvin (Isiah Whitlock Jr.), Otis (The Wire’s Clarke Peters), and Paul (the top-billed Delroy Lindo) were among the “Soul Brothers” who served several tours in the First Infantry. These men return to a modernized Ho Chi Minh City in the Land of the Blue Dragon for a special sort of overdue pilgrimage. Their two determined objectives are to bring back the remains of their fallen squadron leader “Stormin’” Norman Holloway (Chadwick Boseman) and to abscond with millions of dollars of gold bars they buried in the jungle nearly 50 years ago.

Forever linked by surviving the same past, each are very different men. Eddie and Melvin are the easy-going ones while Otis leads as the sympathetic organizer of the international trade operation with rediscovered familial roots in Vietnam. The loudest and surliest of this team is Paul, a bitter and ignorant conservative who wears his politics on his sleeve and on his head with a turned-back MAGA hat. He is joined by his undesired adult son David (the rising Jonathan Majors of The Last Black Man in San Francisco). Everyone is forced to bend or deal with Paul’s mouthy dominance especially when the shit hits the fan.

LESSON #1: THE BLACK EXPERIENCE OF THE VIETNAM WAR— Here’s where the treatises emerge. Black soldiers comprised 32% of American forces in Vietnam as expendable muscle. They fought an immoral war for freedoms on foreign souls that did not often equal what they had back in their home country. The reward for their service was an eternal struggle with trauma and the frowned-upon release of any perceived weakness from their experiences. In fifty years, their war never ended, in the mind or otherwise.

If you ever pondered what a filmmaker like Spike Lee could achieve in this genre, wonder no longer. Da 5 Bloods is boosted by a screenwriting assist from video game specialists Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo adding lively action pieces. Lee’s pulp has punch thanks to dynamic editing from Roma’s Adam Gough and slick shifts in filters and aspect ratios (from 2.39:1 to 1:33:1) between the time periods by Bohemian Rhapsody cinematographer Newton Thomas Sigel. Beneath all that, Lee still infuses his favorite flourishes including a soundscape combining stirring Marvin Gaye tracks with a gripping score from his trusted trumpeter extraordinaire Terence Blanchard. Needless to say, Spike can hang. 

LESSON #2: SECURING OR CHANGING A LEGACY— Embarking “in country” on this quest back into the tropical terrain of their formative and macho memories, each of these men face this quest with different fears and goals. What the money means to them versus what the journey means to them defines desires and actions. Some see this with proper closure and betterment in mind. Others are selfish with greed or aim to grab their own sense of reparations. Allowing this to happen within their tight-knit camaraderie, they threaten to become their own villains.

LESSON #3: “DO RIGHT JUST TO GET RIGHT”— Through all the arguments, tail chases, and betrayals peppered with gunfire in the movie, if there is one element of Da 5 Bloods that is flattened more than its flaunted it is the spectre of Stormin’ Norman. Chadwick Boseman embodies a flashy and fearless lionheart who, when removed from the violence, orates the importance of loving one another with mantras like this lesson title or “God is Love, Love is God.” The evidence of these instilled values is present but the full swell of them is untapped in heightening this drama.

Each member of this choice ensemble glints with talent. Casting four seniors near was a coup for Da 5 Bloods. Each of the central four play their ages and personalities with natural peaks and limitations. During the war scene flashbacks, Lee chose not to recast them (or Scorsese-style de-age them) with younger actors over their venerable guises. That keen move creates the sense these characters and men, like Lesson #1, never really left the rigors and horrors they shared alongside Boseman’s animated idol. Two of the cast stand out above the rest. 

Delroy Lindo is unreservedly ferocious. Blustering with belligerence and shoving his superiority around with every drop of truth and sweat, this may very well be the best performance of his career. Parallel to Lindo and pushing right back, Clarke Peters is the sage salve that becomes the heart and soul of Da 5 Bloods. His gravely delivery and patience is remarkable. Even in this unknown and meager year, give these men proper Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor frontrunner statuses for future awards.

Re-teaming with his fellow Oscar-winning BlacKkKlansman writer Kevin Wilmott, Spike Lee puts his pungent poetry into a war film setting with dauntless theatrical results. Beyond the fictionalized exploits of hallowed brotherhood, Da 5 Bloods dispenses a parade of extra archival nuggets chronicling where and when the lightning rods of the past spoke out against atrocity and the racial plight during the Vietnam War era. While this layer elongates the running time, it is a vast history lesson of poignancy and topicality. Those goals have become two of many personified signatures of Spike Lee, and they are worth every effort.

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[badassdauntlessgirl-blog]

Part 2

Story Title: It’s Our Paradise, It’s Our War Zone Chapter: 2 Previous Chapters: 1 Genre: Fan Fiction, Divergent Fandom Warnings: Strong Language, Adult Content Rating: NSFW Disclaimer: I own nothing, just writing to express myself.

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“That’s it up ahead.” Riley said pointing at a small building in the distance. “Doubt that, it’s tiny.” Nikki butted in. “It’s underground.” Riley replied sure of herself.  “We’re checking it out, on foot from here, grab your gear.” Eric ordered bringing the truck to a halt.  “You’re gonna listen to the rookie? Ha, Eric I really don’t think.” Nikki started. “You don’t think anything, I’m your commanding officer, that’s the orders.” Eric demanded. Riley secured her bulletproof vest and checked her gun was fully loaded then leaped out of the armored truck, quite a leap for her being only 5 feet, instantly she raised her arms and aimed her gun towards the building, the team moved in single file creeping through the tall grass on the lookout for any rebels. Eric ordered the twins and Nikki to go around the back and secure it; he, Hunter and Riley would take and secure the front of the building. Eric approached the closed door, kicked it in then he fell back allowing Riley to go in low while Hunter went in high with their guns at the ready, the room was completely empty, Eric motioned his index and middle finger on his right hand forward, Riley took lead through the doorway checked right and left and then continued forward, her brother and Eric watched her six as she continued.  “Sarge anything?” Josh’s voice crackled over the radio.  “Negative.” Eric informed his team members. The 3 soldiers moved silently and carefully through the unused building just as they’d been trained, up ahead a light illuminated a room, Eric tapped Riley on the shoulder, he pointed towards the door and nodded his head, Riley nodded back and faced the doorway once again her gun drawn. Eric squeezed her shoulder and she advanced, she kicked the door, it creaked open and immediately there was a flash of light and a pop. Eric, Hunter and Riley fell back and dropped low, Eric pulled his trigger and they heard a body crumble to the floor, it suddenly went silent and then there was another pop, Hunter spotted a rebel from his crouching position and fired his handgun, hitting him square in the head, he went down. Eric held up his fist and inched forward, he slowly went into the lighted room and said loud enough for Hunter and Riley to hear ‘clear’ they entered with their guns raised just as they were taught. Adrenaline buzzed through Riley, she had goosebumps, all she could hear was her heart beating in her chest and then she spotted a rebel raising his rifle pointing it in Eric’s direction, she double tapped and the meaningless soldier fell to the ground.  “Now we’re clear.” Riley pointed to the corner of the room “Trap door.” Eric pointed his weapon at the floor as Riley leaned down and pulled open the hatch, with her flashlight and gun raised she looked into the black hole a staircase barely visible “Clear.” Eric gave the order to continue on, Riley climbed down the wonky stairs first, once at the bottom she spun around doing a full sweep of her surroundings, it was dark and musty but clear. Eric and Hunter jumped down and joined her, they searched the dark room, maps and papers lined the walls and tables, they rummaged through the paperwork. “What have you got?” Eric asked from across the room.  “Building blueprints, run down unused piles of shit.” Riley replied fumbling with the papers on the table in front of her. A door at the back of the small dark room opened, Eric, Hunter and Riley kneeled down guns drawn, Nikki walked through the door. “Bloody hell Nikki.” Hunter sighed. “I almost blew your head off.”  “Button it up soldier.” Eric barked aggressively towards her. Nikki rolled her eyes the moment Eric turned away. “Did you run into anyone?”  “No, it’s all clear from our end.” Jack informed the team.  “Even so, this place could have laser censors, we could be compromised, hurry it up, grab what’s necessary and let’s get going.” Riley quickly sifted through some papers, spotting a map of Dauntless she grabbed that along with a few other documents. “Let’s wrap it up.” Eric ordered. The group exited through the back entrance, the twins took the lead since they came in that way, everyone was on high alert but the place seemed to be deserted, there was not a sound to hear besides Alpha teams footsteps crunching the broken glass on the ground beneath their feet. Once clear of the building and back at the truck Alpha team took off their bulletproof vests and put their rifles away, Riley slipped into the front passengers seat beside Eric who was driving and her brother, the twins and Nikki hopped in the back, Eric took off immediately, pedal to the metal, that was Eric’s style of driving; drive like you’re being chased.

Riley being the rookie it was her job to clean the truck, or at least that was the unspoken rules; rookies always did the shit jobs. Riley spent her time carefully and methodically cleaning the truck when she handed the keys over to Mikey he was impressed by her attention to detail. Riley walked through the tunnels of Dauntless, instead of heading home she went straight to the pit to her favorite bar, she took her usual seat, the hot black haired female bartender smiled at Riley. “Your usual?”  “Of course.” Riley smiled back. The thin nosed skinny chick poured a double vodka with red bull, Riley swallowed the liquid immediately and asked for another. As the bartender poured another a tall dark haired handsome man sat on the stool next to Riley, he ordered a rum and coke.  “You’re Riley right, the rookie?” Riley raised her brow unsure of the gentleman. “I’m Nick, I eh, I’m Delta, news travels fast around here.”  “Sure does.” Riley replied still unsure of the stranger. His sea blue eyes caught Riley’s gaze, his hair was perfectly sculpted and his face was covered in few days old stubble.  “Heard you saved Eric’s ass?” Nick chuckled. “Yeah you did, where’d you hear that?” Riley asked intrigued.  “Well your brother’s been boasting about you.”  “Awh fuck, Hunter.” Riley whined then downed the last of her drink.  “Can I get you one?”  “Yeah, sure.” Riley shrugged. “So you know Hunter?”  “Trained with him.” Riley sat with Nick at the bar for 2 hours, when she stood up she swayed and reached out to steady herself, Nick gently put his arm around her waist and held her left arm, a smile broke across Riley’s face, Nick had been nothing but charming, she moved away from him but took hold of his hand and gently pulled him along with her. She stumbled around the Dauntless compound and found a empty unused room, she pulled Nick in with her and backed up against the wall, she hooked his belt loop and pulled closer, both eager to taste each other they instantly opened their mouths and tangled tongues. 

“Riley, Riley! Open this bloody door right now!” Lisa pounded on the twins’ apartment door. “Riley!” Riley fell out of bed and stumbled through her apartment to the door, as soon as she opened it her mother stormed in carrying her little brother on her hip. “Here, you take him, I’m busy.”  “What? I can’t just, I’ve got work.” Riley raised her voice but remained calm.  “And I don’t? It’s not my problem, or at least it shouldn’t be. Deal with it.” Lisa snapped back. “I’ve just been promoted, I can’t look after Finn today.” Riley pleaded. “Tough, I’ve got a life too Riley, one that you came along and ruined so don’t you dare tell me that this isn’t fair, this is your problem, sort it out.” Lisa dumped the diaper bag on the sofa and bolted out of the apartment before Riley could say another word.  “What the hell is going on?” Ryder called from his upstairs bedroom. Riley scooped up her little brother and cuddled him. “Finlay?” “Mom just dropped him off, said she was busy.” Riley put the little boy back onto his feet and urged him to go play. “What the fuck am I gonna do Ryder? I’ve got work.”  “Take him with you.” Ryder suggested.  “Yeah cause Murph would be sound with that.” Riley snorted. She had to come up with a plan fast, ugh why did she drink so much last night, her head pounded as much as her mom hit the door moments earlier. “I don’t think Murphy will be your problem, Eric is.” “Keep an eye on him just now, I need to get ready.” Riley dashed to her bedroom and threw off her oversized t-shirt, without caring she grabbed black skinny pants and a white vest top off her floor from the day before, something she never done unless she was drunk. Riley reentered her living room and found Ryder bouncing Finlay on his legs, the little boy giggled. Riley walked over to her brothers, she took Finlay into her arms and grabbed the diaper bag. “Where are you gonna take him?” Ryder asked. “I dunno yet.” Riley said honestly and shrugged her shoulders.  “Maybe you should speak to Murphy first.”  “Ryder, I’m not going to my XO because I have a baby to look after, I’ll deal with it, I’ll figure something out.” Riley half smiled at her brother and left the apartment. She wandered around the compound trying to think, there had to be someone who could help her out.  “You’re a nanny now?” A familiar and husky voice said behind her, she spun around and saw Eric with a smug smile spread across his face. “And here I thought you’d just been promoted to Alpha squad.”  “It’s one thing killing a man Eric, it’s another caring for a child.” “Just don’t let a child make you late.” Eric ordered. “I’m never late. “ Riley smirked back to her new team leader. Eric scowled and walked away. Riley adjusted little Finlay on her hip and carried on walking through Dauntless then it hit her.. Ashley. Riley turned on her heels and dashed to Hunter’s apartment, when she reached the door she wrapped on it and waited, Ashley opened the door in surprise. “Riley?” “Morning Ashley. I’m so sorry to do this but I was wondering if you could possibly babysit Finn for me.” “Yeah sure, I can do that.” Ashley smiled. “Hey Finlay, you gonna spend the day with me?” Finlay looked at his big sister with worry in his eyes. “It’s okay baby, I’ve gotta go to work, I’ll be back for you, until then you can play with Ashley all day.” Riley assured her brother. “Hey Finlay how about we go to the park? Would you like that?” Immediately Finlay opened up his arms towards Ashley, she took the toddler. Riley placed the diaper bag on the floor just inside the apartment. “Thanks Ash, I owe you.” “Not a problem, we’re practically family.” Ashley replied with a smile. Riley waved bye to her brother and looked at her watch, 5 minutes, she bolted along the corridors, finally she made it to the squad room with a minute to spare. “Told you.” Riley smirked at Eric as she sauntered in, Eric eyeballed her fiercely, took note of her perky breasts and rounded ass in her tight vest top and skinny pants, her blond wavy hair covered most of her back, dangling to almost her hips. “Morning guys.” Hunter welcomed the team. “So today’s task is a simple one; go over the documents we found.” The twins huffed in response. Sure paperwork wasn’t exciting but it’s part of the job, Riley picked up a pile of papers, sat down at the table and started reading everyone else didn’t seem to be so eager and took their time collecting a pile of their own. “Managed to get rid of the brat then” Eric said leaning over Riley’s right shoulder. “Ashley.” Riley replied. “It’ll be good practice for her.” “How come you had him anyway?” Hunter asked looking up from the papers in front of him. “Mom appeared this morning and dumped him on me.” “Why couldn’t she take him?” Hunter asked. “I don’t know, she didn’t stick around to talk. Just to give me a telling off then leave.” Riley sighed. “Good morning.” Murphy said entering the squad room, everyone stood immediately. “Carry on.” Murphy paused and looked around the room. “Where’s Lieutenant Nikki?” “Don’t know sir, she hasn’t showed.” Hunter informed their boss. “Well when she does, send her to my office.” “Yes sir.” Hunter complied. “Well, looks like Nikki’s in shit.” Hunter continued when Murphy left the room. “She’s so hot but she’s such a bitch.” Jack said to no one in particular. “I’d tap that.” Josh laughed. “Wait I already have.” “Snap.” Jack said and high fived his brother Josh.

“This is all just shit, nothing important.” Josh moaned. “Just because it’s not important to you doesn’t mean it’s not at all, it must mean something otherwise why would they have it.” Riley said not lifting her eyes off the paper she was holding. “Agreed, keep going.” Eric said, Josh sighed and continued reading. “Wait.” Jack said. “I think I might have found something but I’m not sure what it means.” “Spill Lieutenant.” Eric ordered. Jack raised to his feet and walked to the front of the room, he placed the sheet of paper on the projector and turned it on, Hunter switched off the lights and they all stared up at the wall. “What the fuck.” Riley said. There was her family’s names, dates of birth, height, weight, eye color and a whole lot more information. “I’m not 80 pounds, I’m bloody 90!” All the guys turned to face her. “What, it took me ages to gain those 10 pounds.” “Is all this information correct?” Eric asked looking at Hunter and Riley, the siblings nodded. “The names at the bottom, are they familiar?” “No, I don’t know anyone by those names.” Riley said. “Me neither.” Hunter confirmed. “Wait.” Riley said moving closer to the wall. “Desmond.” “You know him?” Eric asked. “Yes. Well no.” “Spit it out Lieutenant.” Eric said. “Desmond, that’s the name of the guy that tried to hijack the truck the other day.” “Hunter get down to the holding cells.” Eric ordered. “No, I met the guy, I’ll go.” Riley said exiting the room before anyone could stop her. Riley was on a mission, she marched to the cells, reaching the desk she pushed in front of a younger Dauntless member and tapped her finger to get the attention of the young guy behind the desk. “You’ve got a guy called Desmond in lock up, I need him, Eric’s orders.” “Ah, we don’t any more.” The guy shrugged. “What do you mean?” Riley asked forcefully. “He was released about 20 minutes ago.” Riley inhaled deeply, the guy retreated back a bit expecting her to scream at him. Riley stormed back to the squad room. “They’ve let him go, they fucking let him go, 20 minutes ago.” Riley complained loudly as she reentered the squad room. The team turned to face her. “Grab your gear.” Eric commanded, everyone grabbed their bags and followed Eric to the staircase, each soldier took the stairs two at a time, when they reached the garage Mikey greeted them with a big smile. “We need a vehicle.” Eric said assertively. “That one.” Mikey said shyly pointing to an armored truck. “Get in, let’s go.” Eric demanded. The team leaped into the truck, as usual Eric wanting – or maybe that should be needing – control, he drove, once in the truck Alpha squad loaded and readied their weapons, Jack stood up and popped out the top of the roof, Josh and Hunter leaned out the back windows and Riley stared ahead and to the left searching for the fractionless mess Desmond, surely he couldn’t have gone too far. Riley slipped a loaded handgun into her leg holster on her right thigh and a knife onto her left ankle, she sat with her rifle at the ready.

They drove around and searched for hours, there was no sign of Desmond at all. Eric turned the truck around and started heading back to the compound. “What are you doing?” Riley gasped. “We would have found him by now, my guess is he’s went underground again.” Eric replied. When they reached the garage Riley leaped out of the truck before Eric even put it into park. “Lee.” Hunter said jogging to her side. “Wait.” “No Hunter, I’ve got to find this guy. He knows something.” Riley demanded. “What do you mean? What does he know?” Hunter quizzed her. “Nothing, I don’t know.” Riley sighed, she started to walk away, Hunter lightly grabbed her arm and she spun around to face him. “Leave me alone Hunter.” He understood she needed some time alone, so he let her go. Riley went straight to the liquor store then to her secret rooftop paradise, she cracked open the booze and drank straight from the bottle, how could they just let Desmond go, especially when he attacked her and Ryder, why would anyone want their hands on the twins? It wasn’t as if they were special. Riley snorted to herself then she heard the door to the rooftop open, she spun around and saw Eric appearing out of the shadows. “Eric, what the fuck are you doing here?” Riley said brutally, annoyed that her secret place had been discovered and by Eric of all people, oh my god, had Hunter said something.. no, he wouldn’t. “Looking for you.” Eric replied smugly. “Why?” “I know a place underground to get info.” Eric smirked. Riley rose to her feet and slowly stepped towards Eric. “Do you wanna come or not?” Riley silently nodded then she followed Eric through the Dauntless compound. “Hey Lee.” Ryder said jogging beside her. “Ryder, I’ve gotta go.” “What do you mean? I need to talk to you.” Ryder pushed. “Can’t right now Ryder, I’m working.” “5 minutes.” He begged his twin. “She’s busy.” Eric imposed. Ryder huffed, took one last look at his sister then left. Riley and Eric once again ended up in the garage, Riley followed Eric through the messy and loud garage with terrible lighting, Eric finally stopped at a black Shelby Mustang with white stripes, Riley stopped and stared. “Don’t just stare, get in.” Riley did as she was told, the inside was incredibly luxurious, black leather seats, flashy dash, Riley liked it. “She’s a beauty huh?” Eric said. “Mmhmm.” Riley mumbled clipping in her seatbelt, when Eric started the muscle car it roared to life, it’s all that Riley could hear, Eric pressed on the accelerator gently, he maneuvered out of the busy garage and once they were clear of bodies and objects Eric pressed further on the pedal, the Mustang launched forward pushing Riley into her seat, her stomach clenched as adrenaline burst through her body. Eric sped along the deserted mud road, the only light coming from the headlights of the Mustang, he kept quiet, Riley liked that, she wasn’t being forced to talk or asked a million questions, something she was used to with her Ryder, they were twins but sometimes Riley felt they were too attached, she was growing up and Ryder, well, he clung to her side like glue, Riley needed space, her brothers were amazing but she was the only girl and they smothered her, did they forget she was Dauntless too and she was tough just like them, she wasn’t a Barbie girl needing bailed out by family, hell she was on Alpha team with Hunter and yet she still gets treated like a baby or worse, a girl, maybe life would have been better if she was a boy, Riley sniggered to herself, ha, yes if she was a boy, so much would be different, for one her mother probably wouldn’t hate her. “What’s funny?” Eric finally spoke, he turned to face Riley. “Uh.” Riley froze, she forgot she was not alone, Eric was so quiet it was like being alone, Riley couldn’t break eye contact with Eric as he continued to drive and not look at the road. “Go on Lieutenant.” Eric pushed, still not looking at the road. Riley decided she better say something so that he’d look where he was going. “My brothers treating me like a kid.” She finally replied. “You mean a girl?” Eric said turning his gaze back to the windshield. How the fuck? Did he just read my mind? It once again become extremely quiet in the car besides the sound of the humming engine.

Ryder stormed to Hunter’s house and barged in without knocking. “Hey what the fuck Ryder.” Hunter complained leaping off the sofa. Ryder slammed the door behind him and paced in the living room. “What’s going on?” “Lee.” Ryder huffed. “She wouldn’t speak to me, she just left.” “What do you mean Ryder?” Hunter pressed. “She left with Eric, I tried speaking to her but she just said she was busy and walked away.” “Where?” Hunter rose to his feet. Ryder raised his eyebrow, curious to his brothers reaction at Eric’s name. “Ryder, where were they?” “In the garage.” Hunter went to the kitchen immediately and retrieved his cell, he went to Riley’s name and pressed call, the cell rang out, he tried Eric but the same thing happened. “I’ve gotta go for bit, I won’t be long.” Hunter said before grabbing his jacket and kissing Ashley on the forehead. “Hunter, where are you going? It’s late.” Ashley complained. “I promise I won’t be long, I love you.” Hunter reassured her. Hunter left his apartment with Ryder, they went straight to the garage. “Okay now I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on?” Ryder asked. “Nothing.” “Ha, don’t do that with me. There’s obviously something, comon share.” Ryder begged. “Eric’s my best mate but he’s not someone I want my sister sleeping with.” “What?” Ryder burst out laughing. “She’s not sleeping with him.” “Every girl that goes in his car gets fucked, trust me, I know.” Hunter dashed around the garage, he found Mikey still working and approached him. “Mikey, where did Eric go?” “I dunno.” Mikey said standing. “He left with Riley, they were in a bit of a rush.” “You call me as soon as they get back okay?” Hunter ordered, Mikey nodded his head. “Ryder, go home.” “What about Riley?” “I’ll speak to her in the morning.” Hunter patted his younger brother on the shoulder and walked back home to his pregnant – and probably pissed off – girlfriend. Ryder walked alone to his shared apartment with his missing sister, he walked in to darkness and silence.

[imawritinginprogress]

The Feminist Princess and the Unexpected Warrior

June 12, 2089, Ithuriel

Princess Cleo: I’ve lived all my life being trained as an independent and courageous princess. Since my father died, I don’t believe I need a man to tell me how to lead the kingdom of Ithuriel after what mortality did to what the people call Philippines. I studied the history and government of that country for years and I’ve learned that when a woman rule a country, she is usually claimed to be a devil advocate, a puppet, or worse, people might advice you to “just leave it to the men,” like most men rule the country. I did not say that the leadership of men was wrong, I admire few men leaders who weren’t selfish on their good intentions to lead, but most of men were corrupted by the influence of money as well as the recognition of the people, notably the poor and the commoners.

That was long time ago, since angels came and conquer this beautiful country to correct history and to improve humanity on Earth. My parents led the revolution since most of the corrupt politicians died of our powers since the battle of angels and humans happened on what was now known as Ithuriel.

Their government was what the people call a utopian, ideal, you could say. Religions were now unified, yet people were given a free choice to express their diversity, be they wanted to be a Catholic, Christian or whatever you wanted to believe in, even in being a part of the rainbow community too. Everyone is given equal rights to study their level of expertise; of course there were schools for each profession. I could mention more about how beautiful Ithuriel is, but according to the people my parents talked to, it was like heaven on Earth.

Until, I witnessed my father being slain by someone he considered to be his ally, his best friend. Since then, I furiously become determined to be a worthy leader for the people of Ithuriel and to take revenge of those behind the assassination of my father.

Since then, I won’t let anyone tell me I’m just a girl, that I’m just another pretty face but considered worthless in history, especially by men who tried to revolt against my mom because she is just a woman. My study on international culture and leadership has been helping me to be what fate wanted me to be. I’m now more than ready to be the next leader of Ithuriel, father. So help me God.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

“So Ms. Jemima, how do you write this compelling story?” a reporter from The Manila Bulletin named Christian interviewed in her first ever press conference promoting the book.

“About the story of Princess Cleo, which many women wanted to emulate like the famous heroine too. What are your reactions that your book has been worshipped by your fans not only on Philippines but also worldwide too?” said another from Philippine Star.

“Will you consider the rumor that Shine Network will televise your book into a primetime series,” commented another from Inquirer.

Me and my classmates in Creative Writing under Sir Carlou’s class were watching the live simulcast of Palanca awardee and best-selling author behind “The Feminist Princess”.

“Personally, I like Ms. Jemima Angeli. She’s been known and well loved not only on the present times, but also on social media too. She’s been responding to her growing number of ladies whom she encouraged to be true to themselves and also been reaching out to men to be not afraid of what society dictates us to be. Yet she did not consider herself wise, she is also cracking jokes via her official Twitter ever now and then when she’s not in writing mode.

She’s my inspiration. That’s why I wanted to be a writer like her one day. I will write as dauntless like her,” gushing Cristine, who is a big fan of her writings. As expected, I had to get myself be overwhelmed by her idolizing such a writer like Ms. Jemima Angeli.

Truth is, I cannot blame Cristine. She’s also an aspiring writer too, she needs someone to ignite her writing skills but sadly, I’m an Engineer. I don’t usually involve in things such as literature and arts, unlike my girl classmates and I don’t even care.

“Feminists suck”, says my mind while enduring the live press conference. “She claims she reaches out to men, but that is still women superiority complex disguised as women empowerment”, that is what I believe in. Sorry Emma Watson, I would rather prefer her acting rather than her advocacies, I even commented to stop her fangirling obsession.

Man that kills me. Girls, when will you learn that you still needed men too?

To which Cristine replied, “You know what, you’re just being insulted because she achieves way better than you did. I hate this to tell you, but if you don’t have something nice to say, you better shut your mouth okay?”

“There you go, Cristine. You won. I am worth nothing, and you go ahead with your shitty writing if you wish,” I sighed in my defeat when suddenly her book opened without a second, and since Sir Carlou shut the lights dark, the blaring light shocks everyone. Later I didn’t realized I was devoured literally into a book.

I screamed with all my might but even my classmates and Sir Carlou were almost paralyzed into inaction, unable to help me.

“This is crazy. I just saw these on anime, but well, welcome to an adventure, Arthur”, as in minutes I am now surrounded by people attending the congregation of Queen Esther and her daughter Princess Cleo. I looked at my shabby university uniform and felt alienated by the outfit of the people around the city.

A big white arrow, with a sign labeled in all big capitals, “Ithuriel” was seen before my very eyes dusted by sand.

“Ouch”, I exclaimed, “This isn’t real”

“Hey, “a knight-clad warrior approached me and tied both my arms, about to arrest me without even knowing me. “What the hell are you wearing? Are you one of the revolutionist Magicians who even dared time travel to Ithuriel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I almost shouted in pain before I gazed at the knight who even dared to even argue with me. “Oh what a nice welcoming”, I sarcastically sighed to myself when he pulled me towards the prison cell.

“You better come with me, no objections, Mister, if you wanted me to keep you alive, you” as the knight led me to the prison cell with everyone staring at me.

A few minutes later, I was in the prison cell, just like what he wanted of me.  I’m still thinking of escaping from this fictitious place when a beautiful woman approaches me.

She was wearing a gown just like the typical princess on the fairy tales; her straight shiny black hair caught my eye. Maybe she was Princess Cleo, the way Ms. Jemima writes her to look like, but I never thought that novels could be this real. Just like her beauty.

I never fall in love with a fictional character written in the book. Nah, that’s insane.

“Are you even hungry?” she even asked.

And she has a lovely voice. Oh dear me, am I in love?

Days passed and I began befriending the knights who appeared to be amazed at my smartness to construct the castle of Ithuriel using my knowledge at Engineering. So I learn how to narrate tales of what the Philippines look like during my time, since I already told them I’m a student at one of the prestigious university in Manila and they look very interested in where do I grew up and if word was true that men were treated fairly during my time.

Cool. I was now here in the future of the Philippines. Well, if only I memorized by heart the history, I would even give up my Engineering degree to pursue politics and governance and study in Ithuriel. No, I don’t mean that. Engineering was cool, yet one must be patient if you wanted to be like me. Just kidding again; please laugh.

Heck, I would even ask if I could study something related to Engineering, or whatever they might call right now. Even with all the knowledge I study at heart, all I cared at this moment to get to know this beautiful woman. I don’t care if Cristine spoiled me that she’ll soon die at the end of this story, I just wanted to.

If Cristine were here and she saw my face gushing, she’ll surely be laughing at me to no end.

But I don’t even bother, except for my feelings every time Princess Cleo visited the prison cell to feed me and talk to me, if she is not in a bad mood. Even if all I received sarcastic humiliation and countless rejections from her, I just wanted to hear her voice, daydream I would touch her angelic face, and.. just her presence made my day.

I waited and waited and hoped for her, to no avail. Has she never seen a man like me before, I don’t know. Even I showed her my wisdom, I cracked jokes with her, I tell my stories to amuse her; damn this woman’s heart is as cold as stone!

I never felt so miserable in my whole existence. Maybe my charming appeals do not work in my favor, nor has she ever fallen in love before with a man and later left her too?

These questions haunted my mind every night whenever the knights stayed behind me in bars to watch me. I’m in this prison cell, staring at my cell phone, missing my college professors, Cristine, Ivan, Abby, Laven, Denver, and everyone until I immediately fell asleep in my immeasurable grief.

* * * * * * * * 

The next morning, a knight whom I mostly befriended named Joseph invited me to free me from my miserable days on the prison cell, in exchange for my training to be expert in swords just like I’ve seen in the movies.

Less than weeks passed since I’ve been given this freedom I owed to Joseph, and in no time, finally I mastered sword fighting. Joseph taught me how to ride a horse and everything I need to learn in combat.

I never felt like a hero in my whole life, aside from my classmates knew me as a Math wizard. Finally, you’ll see what you lost, Princess Cleo.

Joseph lent me his favorite horse named Viceral. At first, I laughed for his quick sense of humor in nicknaming horse names, but he told me that it’s his lucky horse and wishes me well in the battle I’m going to face in. “You’ve already mastered quickly what I’ve learned in knighthood for years. I’m so proud of you, Arthur. Go and save the Princess, the world needs her existence!” as I left with Viceral on the way to what was previously called Mt. Apo.  

I am more than ready to rewrite your history. Sorry, Ms. Angeli, but your story is long gone. You need quick revisions, or whatever editing you might proofread after all, for I am to prove Princess Cleo that she doesn’t need to face leadership alone, she needed me.

Which is to no avail because she won’t let me either after the night I saved her from the angel-slaying dragon who is about to imprison her. I cut the dragon split in two, and Princess Cleo did not even acknowledge me for saving her life.

Why did she every time she sees me, her eyes looked at me sweetly too? I don’t understand that night when I saved her, she hugged me in her fright, as if she needed my help? And yet every time I do care, which is I never did for my past loves, she even won’t give me some slacks?

I stood with my hand-me-down night armor Joseph borrowed me on the night I helped her, helplessly and exhausted in my battle, my eyes swollen in heartbreakingly pangs of rejection as she commanded me to stay away from her. I turned my back, gazing one second towards this ice princess who claimed she was a feminist. Or maybe she is.

“My love, can’t you see how much I’ve changed me since I met you. Why you’re making me crazy thinking about such wasted beauty like you? I wasn’t like this before, but why? Is there someone before me who hurts you? I will protect you from the boys who will do things I wanted to do with you, please hear my heart” I desperately screamed at the top of my lungs, damn my almost victory no one ever knows.

Except that my pleas were finally heard at the author itself.

Jemima Angeli.

She stood at me quickly, asking me of my intentions to save the princess. I quickly replied that “I may not be a fan of your works, but I loved her since the day I saw her when I was wrongfully imprisoned those weeks, but she never do care about me, even on the day I risked myself to save her from her tragic fate.”

“So you already read my book,” replied Jemima. To my surprise, it took me seconds to notice of her maroon coat she’s wearing to.

“So you’re one of the revolutionists who killed her father?” I blurted out my damn hypothesis, which I’m afraid she might have said it worse.

She replied politely to my surprise, “Yes, I did. But thank you for doing great in my story, which I heard you screaming at the mountains just earlier in my dreams.” She took a step forward, “Already looking for revenge towards her indifference?” which she brought up someone I did not see coming.

Princess Cleo was stunned to be back after she proved her victory that her feminist theory could be won, but in the end, whatever good it might seems, if done in bad intentions, it would fail anyway.

“Why are you bringing me to this man; you murderer!” Princess Cleo screamed horror as Jemima Angeli is not your usual writer; she has the gifts of time travelling, precognition and clairvoyance, which is declared illegal magic by her present government.

In instant, the author in her pity shared her tragic story, “I once become like you, I lost my dad before which is why I become a feminist. But I never tried hurting any man of good intentions like Arthur to feel what grief your father left of your soul. It’s a waste to continue you becoming an unworthy heroine to thousands of ladies who knew your story very well, even they know your life would be tragic anyway”, the Palanca awardee I just watched long time ago muttered in her breath.

Life is one big adventure of mishaps and learned lessons. Believe me or not, the next few words she says gives me sense of justice over my recent heartbreak.

“From now on, you’ll been recognized not your title of being a Princess but live your life being this guy” she commanded, her powers drew towards the ice princess.

“Until you finally learned how to appreciate what this guy did for you, for love, “as Princess Cleo was swallowed into the book, her angelic face was being transformed like Arthur’s resemblance as a punishment.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

PRESENT-DAY at the UNIVERSITY, TWO DAYS AFTER ARTHUR IS BEING SWALLOWED BY THE BOOK..

“Waaaaaaaaaaah!” as the princess woke up and find herself in the mirror as soon as she got up. Espedillion’s abode, to her surprise!

From now on, the princess was forced to look like the man she crushed his hopes for romance. Her tears started to fell down too as she stared back at her handsome reflection.

“Arthur”, she sighed. “I’m sorry I broke you. But this is my fault. You always said that you love me, but I’m so scared because I’m so heartbroken, I used to hate men and preach the wrong meaning of feminism but I was wrong. I should get to know you instead, oh please.”

“Hey, Arthur, why you’re crying” Cristine approaches him, giving her handkerchief at him.

“Sorry”, I apologized to the girl, “Were you a friend of Arthur?”

“Of course, you’re Arthur right? My god, friend, you’ve been absent since 2 days! You have missed so much time. Laven, Abby, Walker, Angel, and everyone misses you so much, we never stopped contacting you via Messenger but seems that you shut your mobile phone not to make us feel worried. Where have you been all these days?” as I noticed the book she’s holding to, besides her black bag.

She owns the book I’m been looking for, so I would know if I would be in damn tragedy like what she said she originally written as my death. I asked Cristine if she could lend me her book so I could study what my life would be as well as my future, to avoid my fate, if proven I would die, as being written.

“How come, I thought you’ll never be interested in Jemima Angeli’s writings because you only cared for your Engineering degree? On one condition, I’ll accompany you at the gazebo. Looks like we have so much time to talk to, “

I hesitantly agreed as she pulled me playfully to the gazebo. It was peaceful outside the University, as the cool breeze swept as us. We were sitting on a bench nearby, and she told me things that like me, despite of his amazing intelligence, lies a man longing for someone who could he be himself around, and things Arthur never shared things with me about. I then admitted that I wasn’t Arthur and pleaded Cristine not to tell her classmates about the curse, and everything Arthur did for me, which she laughed to no end.

“I’m just his friend, c’mon, I never liked him,“ Cristine admitted. “If you really love him, let me help you. Feel free to contact me just in case you wanted someone to talk to,” as she waved herself goodbye for her next class.

Days passed and I was adjusted to the university life Arthur is experiencing through. Cristine helped me cope with whatever weird nuisances my Engineering classmates were slowly noticing, so thank God I wasn’t caught.

The Espedilion family has been my second home to me. Abby and Wesley were good friends, they’re nice college buddies even they did not recognize I wasn’t Arthur after all. Sorry guys.

The day of submission of Prof. Carlou’s assignment regarding Jemima Angeli’s interview has been drawing near. And we have to read our reactions in front of my class.

God, I hate oral recitations.

“Mr. Espedillion?” Prof. Carlou called me after Cristine and Wesley has finally done reading their pieces.

Cristine tapped my shoulder, wishing me good luck. “It’s time.”

I read the paper I’ve been thinking about Arthur the whole time. I realized writing could make you powerless, but above knowledge, love is the strongest power in my whole existence.

I forgive her for killing my dad. I finally learned to love Arthur, the man I lived within days of discovering the life he’s accustomed to.

I stared at everyone who’s been waiting for me to even open my mouth. My train of thoughts snapped back to reality as Prof. Carlou repeated his instructions, “Mr. Espedillion, are you with us?”

“Yes,” I immediately replied and nodded to read my essay again. I just make sure the night before the presentation not to reveal my true identity in my essays as well as my growing feelings for Arthur.

“What I’ve learned from Jemima Angeli and her heroine Princess Cleo Maxine were adventures I’ve never travelled to, but from an Engineer’s perspective, I’ve learned a girl can be hurt and insensitive because she thought love can be restrained not taught not to feel it. I’ve tried, believe me, I realized you can be the most knowledgeable and the most successful Engineer, or writer, or an author, or even be anything you wish, but if you’re doing it out of vengeance, it wouldn’t only resolve anything, it would make things worse. I realized these past few days reading her novel and realized Jemima Angeli is not your typical feminist but Princess Cleo is, blinded by her anger and hatred towards the people responsible for her father’s death, if someone might call her heartless and insensitive. News: Princess Cleo is in love. Jemima might not mention to you guys yet, but she is in love with the unexpected knight she met in the prison cell. That stranger she thought he was a time traveler who’s threatening her safety, but heck, he doesn’t know whatever I denied, I smiled. I blushed, but I never dared to utter, for I don’t believe in such nonsense. That she’s a feminist and I won’t fall in love with the man that might betray my trust later on, just like what happened to her dad. Sorry, but, I do love---

Meanwhile in Ithuriel, Jemima and the real Arthur watched behind her speech using the water in the well to witness such change of heart for the once called ice princess so she let Arthur return back to his true form and live his normal life.

“She has loved you back, Arthur. Go back to your life and I’m sorry for bothering you” Jemima started to apologize me.

Oh no, I did not even wanted her to apologize the one responsible for why we met.

I smiled at the author slash magician I would never forget, the kingdom of Ithuriel, Joseph, and his knightly comrades as I was swallowed by the book.

Love takes you to places you’ve never been of, feels of the things Engineering never taught me, but I learned that anyone can be a hero for someone you’ve consider to grow and marry for the lifetime, should I?

I reached the University in no time, in a woman’s dress. I remember.

I do look like Princess Cleo, so keep calm, my darling. I’ll rewrite our love and your fate, I sighed as the book take me to where Cleo admitted her feelings to me. She was surprised as our eyes met, and I can say she missed me too, even if she doesn’t admit it.

“My Cleo,” I kissed her with all my might the moment I saw her. I don’t care if my classmates saw us, for all I care as her existence makes me feel alive. Her confession was enough for me to taste her love, and what she deserves for a simple college geek like me.

Our bodies start to exchange in front of the whole class, and finally I hugged her tight, with the essay paper she wrote for me. Professor Carlou and the whole class clapped for us out of their shock a few minutes later. They must have felt like they’re watching a televised love story. Or maybe it is.

She finally grew feelings for me, as I cupped her angelic face. Damn, I could stare at her face for a lifetime. I’m not at my dying years, but am I already in heaven with her. Wish I would rather die right now and marry her right away, but I guess this is me happy. I really did, and I’m sure of it myself.

Jemima nowadays must have been playing Cupid now, I’m honored.

Years past since I’ve gotten myself a degree in Mechanical Engineering and I’m now a professor in my alma mater. Even it took me years since that day Princess Cleo kissed me; she never died in my heart. And even they never believed in me except Cristine who is now a famous spoken word artist, Ithuriel still holds a special place in my heart.

Even if the story no longer became the trend unlike way before did, I’m still holding on fate that we’ll soon meet, if we’re really destined to be with each other. Only time could tell, I just need to trust her to forget her fears.

Just kidding though, I hate tragic endings. Oh, did I forget to tell you, we’ve been married in Ithuriel days after I got my licensure in Mechanical Engineering?

--END--

[writingismyhappytime]

Dauntless: Daddy Dearest (Part 5)

Eric x OC

Warnings: Language, parenting angst

A/N: I think the panicked expressions on Eric’s face are incredibly accurate for this series lol also, if you want to be tagged in any dauntless updates, let me know! I don’t always post consecutively, sometimes there might be a few weeks in between chapters, and I don’t want anyone to miss out! Don’t forget to check the masterlist for the rest of my Dauntless, and where all parts of this series are tagged.

   I leaned over the crib, watching the infant sleeping in his blue blankets. Camille had him wrapped up like a burrito, still wearing his little blue hat, his face scrunched in his sleep. It was late, I'd just gotten in, but I'd wanted to check on him before I went to bed.

It felt... weird.

Really, my day wasn't any different --- I left early, came back late, the same time every day. Now instead of just Camille greeting me with a nasty look or a sweet kiss, there's also screaming.

So, not too different.

The baby didn't stir much, just moved his mouth occasionally, made some baby sounds. At that moment, my kid was just a screaming, pooping bundle. He's only a week old, so I guessed it would be a while before he had any personality, did anything other then lay there.

I sighed as I straightened, seeing a few strands of dark hair against his forehead, curling upwards against the hat. His hair looked black like Camille's, but I was kind of hoping he kept my blue eyes; someone had said baby's eyes change colors after they get so old, but I hoped his didn't.

Kai.

I'm a little surprised Camille so readily accepted the name, maybe she was just glad I picked something. We'd been fighting over that the last few months longer then we had anything else. I was just glad all that stress was over.

I stepped away from the crib, silently leaving the room and leaving the door only cracked. I hesitantly popped my head into the bedroom, seeing Camille was safely tucked beneath the covers, sleeping soundly. I felt bad about leaving her with the baby all day, but one of us had to be out there working.

New initiates would be coming in soon, maybe another month, and by then Kai should be old enough to go to the daycare in the Pit. I'd take him there myself every day if I had to, if it made Camille feel better about leaving him. I guessed it was a mother thing, being so attached to the thing she carried for nine months.

I shut the door, grimacing. I'd let her sleep, I'd hear the baby if he started wailing.

So far, there'd been a few congratulations for the baby, a snarky message from Melanie, and Max had clapped me awkwardly on the back before moving on. Tori had been over to see it, Camille said, and Zeke.

It's weird.

I felt like everything had shifted, that now that I had a kid, I... well, I was stupid as fuck. I shouldn't be worried about the fact having a kid would fuck up my reputation, but I was. Melanie was right, anyway, turning down leading the op was seriously going to fuck me over, and I knew she kept hoping I'd change my mind any minute now and take it, leave Camille and the baby to their own devices.

It was tempting.

I sat down on the couch, leaning forward to unlace my boots. I needed to get back out there, remind everyone that I wasn't going to take their shit, that having that kid in my life wasn't going to make me soft. It seemed stupid, even to me, but that's still how I felt. I knew Camille still wasn't feeling well, she was ill and pretty bitchy right now, but she was trapped in the apartment all day with the kid.

She needed some time off.

Hell, maybe I could send her to lead the op --- that would give her something to do and... no, I didn't want to be left alone with the baby. I'd only held it a few times, mostly when Camille begged me too because she was exhausted. It's been a week and I doubted she'd gotten eight hours of sleep yet.

The thing cried all the time!

I leaned up, running a hand along my stubbled jaw. I hadn't had time to shave in days, everything seemed so out of sorts lately. I hadn't felt the need to jump ship and run off yet, so I guessed that was a good sign.

Still, the thought of raising that kid --- I didn't want it to turn out like me. What if it turned out to be a big wimp though, defected to another faction?

Worse, what if it ended up becoming factionless? No kid of mine was gonna end up like one of those pathetic wastes of space! Hell, I didn't even want their to be factionless by the time he was old enough to choose!

Of course, he'd pick Dauntless, I'd make sure he grew up to be tough and a badass like me and his mother. We'd teach him all the tricks, show him the ropes --- he'd end up in leadership like us. He'd be the top of his class, I wouldn't accept any less!

No son of mine was going to end up a disgrace.

I'd chosen a strong name for him, now he better live up to it.

As if on cue, I heard him start to cry, at the top of his lungs just like every night.

Great.

I grimaced as I pushed to my feet, leaving my boots by the coffee table and hastily heading for the nursery. I nudged the door open, shutting it behind me so his cries wouldn't carry to Camille.

"Hey, kid," I muttered, stepping to his crib. "You hungry or somethin'?"

The baby's eyes opened for a few seconds at my voice before closing again, his face scrunching up as he let out another toothless scream. I sighed as I reached down, gingerly lifting the bundle into my arms, supporting his head like Camille showed me.

Where the fuck did she keep his milk, anyway? In the kitchen? I hoped it was already in the bottles and I could just shove it in the microwave or something.

It took me about five minutes longer then necessary to figure it out, especially with him wailing in my arms like he was dying. I ground my teeth together as I finally finagled the bottle into my hand, dripping the milk a few times on my arm to check the temperature like I'd seen Camille do.

Barely warm, that's how it's supposed to be right? I eyeballed the bottle a moment, hoped it was right, and popped the rubber thing between the kid's gums.

Almost immediately he began sucking on it, and I sighed in relief, my ears still ringing. Jeez, the kid had a set of lungs on him!

I gingerly sat back down, feeling awkward as I held the bottle up, his little arms too weak to do it yet. Feeding a baby definitely wasn't giving me any intimidation points, although at least it finally made him shut up.

I leaned my head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The kid was so small in my arms, smelling like powder and detergent, warm. I could hear him eating, and I was relieved he didn't wake Camille up --- she needed her rest.

Fuck, I needed some rest and I wasn't even taking care of him!

I rolled my neck, hearing my joints crack before looking down at my son. Seemed strange thinking that.

His eyes opened for a moment again, still that same bright blue as mine before drifting back shut. It would be a bit before he could keep them open, before he could be out of the serious straight jacket his mother kept him in. She also kept weird little socks on his hands so he wouldn't scratch himself, and I didn't see how he didn't get too warm.

I frowned, pressing the tips of my fingers against his small forehead, but he felt fine. Not too hot, just the right temperature.

Oh, and he's done.

I tugged the bottle out of his lips, seeing him smack them a little bit; he'd about drunk the whole thing, hungry kid. I shuffled, leaning him up a little, hoping I didn't need to do the whole burping thing; I was afraid I'd tap him on the back too hard, I'd break one of his little bones --- I was terrified of injuring my own kid.

I liked Camille doing all that.

When he didn't immediately begin wailing, or throw up all over me, I took it as a good sign. He'd already ruined one of my t shirts, causing Camille to just laugh at me, as if she wasn't even phased.

Probably wasn't.

"Alright, kiddo, let's get you back to bed so I can get some sleep," I muttered, his eyes scrunching as my thumb ran along his soft cheek. My hands felt gawky, too big and cumbersome when I was touching him. I knew my skin was rough, scars decorated my hands, but I hoped it didn't bother him. "Why don't you sleep for the rest of the night, give mama a break, huh?"

I shuffled, reluctantly getting to my feet again, still muttering to him as I headed for the nursery.

"You gotta grow up, be a badass like we are," I said, tugging some of his blankets around in the crib, making sure they were sort of bunched on either side of him so he couldn't roll around and smother himself. Camille had given me a full ranting rundown all of the bad things that could happen to our kid if I didn't do everything right. "Get big and tough and kick the shit out of your peers. Show them that being my kid is a major advantage."

I gently laid him back into the crib, leaning on the railing for a few minutes. I wanted to make sure he was breathing okay, that I didn't still need to burp him or something.

"I don't know if you're gonna have any brothers or sisters, so you have a lot to live up too." I mumbled, propping my chin on my hand. "You're carrying on a pretty prestigious name, you know that?

"Mama is always gonna be here for you when I can't, but I'm gonna teach you everything I can when I am around. You're gonna be the best fighter, the best soldier Dauntless has ever seen. And when I'm leading this faction, you'll never have to worry about anything."

I gazed down at him, seeing he was already asleep, blowing little spit bubbles. I refused to acknowledge I found it sort of cute, and I hastily turned away. If he was conked out, it meant I could get a shower and crawl into bed before one a.m. tonight.

Nice.

~~~~~~

"I can't believe he slept all night," Camille mumbled as she stood in front of the coffee pot, still half asleep. "That's a first."

Ahuh.

"He didn't." I muttered, leaning down to lace my boots, my fingers fumbling with the black laces. "I got him."

"You did?" Camille sent me a surprised look over her shoulder, her eyes not looking quite as tired this morning.

"Yeah. You needed some rest," I stood, stretching my arms over my head. "He only cried twice, don't worry. I fed him and figured out the diaper thing."

After four tries.

Not that I was going to tell her that.

"You didn't have to do that, you're going to be exhausted," she sighed, slowly pouring a cup of coffee before offering it to me. "I'm home all day, I can take care of him."

"I don't mind," I pressed a kiss to her temple as I took the cup. "You're exhausted. Maybe putting him in daycare a little early wouldn't be a bad idea, give you a break some days."

"No," Camille shook her head instantly, looking disgruntled. "I don't want to out him in until we have too."

"Are you still worried someone will be mean to him?" I sipped my coffee, barely noticing the harsh burn. I gazed at her, seeing the troubled look on her face.

"Yes and no." She eventually said, turning away from me to pour her own coffee into a glass cup. "I just... I dunno, I'm not ready to let someone else take care of him yet. I mean, what if they don't feed him or forget him somewhere? What if ---?"

"Camille, he's barely a week old. Don't panic yet," I hooked my finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up. "You have plenty of time to spend with him."

"Only sixteen years," she corrected me, soft lips almost pouting. "What if he chooses another faction and leaves us? What if ---?"

"Too many what ifs this morning," I shook my head at her, pressing a quick kiss against her lips before stepping away, noticing the time. "Don't worry about any of that. He'll be the toughest soldier Dauntless has ever seen, he'll be running this faction by the time he's ten."

"That's some high expectations," she looked amused.

"He's my son, he has a lot to live up too," I shrugged my shoulders. "Now I gotta go. You gonna be good?"

"More or less, I've survived worse then a screaming baby."

I chuckled, seeing her hands on her hips as I strode for the door. "I'll see you tonight."

"Alright."

~~~~~~

"Is she fucking up already?" I asked in annoyance, standing across the table from Max; he'd summoned me up here a few minutes ago, apparently something important was going down.

"Erudite is less then pleased with her progress," Max responded in displeasure, pressing his hands against the table, a map of a city drawn into its top. "Her control over the movement of the factionless and the soldiers is less then acceptable."

"So she has no idea what she's doing." I ran my hands down my face, irritated. Couldn't Melanie do one goddamn thing right? I had enough on my plate to deal with her bullshit too! "She's fucking everything up."

"Essentially. She's managed to move most of the factionless out of the warehouses we need with few casualties, but production has seemed to stop at that point. She cleared these two buildings," he motioned at the map on the table before him, showing me the areas. "But the third is still crawling with them. If they're not gone by the end of the week, we'll be behind schedule."

"Why not just blow the place sky high?"

"It would draw too much attention."

Of course it would.

I rubbed at my scruffy jaw, in serious need of a shave. Maybe tonight I'd have time, if the baby didn't start screaming and Camille start crying because her nerves were frayed. I didn't mind getting up every now and then to soothe him, but I couldn't every night and work too.

"She needs to send in some units to clear it, have them armored and with enough weapons and ammo it's not a problem," I said after a moment. "Go through all the exits but one, leave the factionless with only one escape route so they funnel out into this abandoned part of the city with the rest of them." I drew my finger along the map. "Shouldn't take more then a few hours. Even she's capable of that."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Max grumbled, and I glanced up at him; he wasn't one to bad mouth one of his soldiers, even lightly; she must seriously be getting under his skin with her fuck ups.

"Just send the order and she'll follow."

"I don't want to send another order, I want to send someone more capable." He shook his head, and I tensed at his words.

I ---.

"Eric, you need to lead this operation before it crumbles through our fingers," he finally said out right, dark eyes on mine. "I'm sending you to replace Melanie, there is no other choice."

Eh!

"I can't ---." I started instantly, curling my fingers into fists. "Camille ---."

"Camille is safe within the compound, her and your child. I need you to stop focusing on them, and focus on your duty to Dauntless." I straightened at the insulting words; did he really think I wasn't taking this seriously? "You need to lead this op to completion, or I'm going to find someone who can follow my orders to a T."

I narrowed my eyes at the hardly veiled threat. He wanted to replace me, did he? He thought he could find some other fucker to do the dirty work and not feel bad about it?

He'd fail, and we both knew it. I was going to call his bluff, I wanted too, especially to remind him how much he needed me.

However...

This might be a good opportunity for me.

"I'll lead the operation," I said thoughtfully, Max starting to smirk. "But not outright. I'll go for a few weeks, I'll train Melanie to get her head out of her ass, and I'll come back. If I think she's going to be shit at it, I'll say so, and we'll make something work. I'm not going to leave for three months at a time, I've got too much shit to handle now."

As I spoke, Max's face steadily soured, until he looked ready to shoot me outright. He ground his teeth as he looked at me, but I merely crossed my arms.

I wasn't changing my mind.

"Three weeks is what I'm giving you." I said flatly. "That's it."

In three weeks, Kai would be a month old, old enough for daycare. I wanted to take him on his first day, and I'd walk back to the compound if I had too. I wanted to make Camille feel better about being separated from him, and me taking him is the only thing I knew to do to set precedence.

You fuck with my baby, I'll kill you.

Pretty easy to remember.

"Fine. Only, however, the factionless are gone by the end of the week." Max said after a moment, deciding not to argue with me.

I smirked. "Done."

~~~~

"Three weeks?" Camille nearly shrieked at me, and I winced as the baby immediately began to scream in her arms.

"Oh! I'm sorry, baby, Mommy's sorry," she sighed immediately, starting to bounce and rock him slightly. She glowered at me over the top of his curly black hair. "Eric!"

"It's Max's orders!" I shrugged my shoulders, watching her grit her teeth as she tries to quiet Kai. "I don't have a choice. Melanie is fucking the op up pretty bad for Erudite and it's becoming a problem. I should never have agreed to let her go." I sighed.

"But --- Eric! You're going to leave me here all by myself with this thing!" Camille gasped, looking ready to cry herself; I could hardly hear what she was saying over the kid, I was having to read her lips. It was just a constant barrage of high pitched screams.

"You're more then capable, and it's only for a few weeks." I said gently, offering my arms. Maybe if I held him she wouldn't have a mental break down on me. She handed me the baby readily, and I cradled him in my arms, running my fingers across his snarled nose. "You're alone with him all day."

"Yeah, but you always come home at night," she sat down on the sofa, running her fingers through tangled black hair. "You give me a break."

"Not all the time. Camille, you can do this. We're soldiers, we can handle anything," I said, holding Kai up against my shoulder, letting him wail into my ear; I didn't need to be able to hear anyway. "He's sleeping better now, right?"

"No." She stressed the word, dark circles still beneath her eyes. "Eric, you can't leave me here by myself. I can't do this."

I knew it was coming.

"Baby," I sighed, shuffling Kai a little against my shoulder, relieved he was finally starting to hiccup instead of scream. I stepped to Camille, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her. "I have to do this, Max isn't giving me a choice. This is big for us and Erudite building trust, and Melanie is blowing all of it up. I love you." I reached forward, taking her hand and squeezing tightly. "I'll be back in three weeks to drop Kai off at daycare if I have to walk the distance myself."

Camille gazed at me with those dark eyes, and finally she nodded, frowning. "Max is the leader."

"Yeah, for the time being." I glanced down at the baby, grimacing as I saw the spit on my shirt. "I'll take control one day and it won't be like this."

Camille snorted, shaking her head. "You really think you'll get Dauntless one day?"

"I'll got you, didn't I?" I arched a brow at her. "I convinced you to fall in love with me and have my child, the hard part is already over."

She almost smiled at me.

"You're so fucking dumb." She finally muttered, but leaned forward to kiss me lightly; her kisses are basically the only affection I've had since she started ballooning outward, and I missed it. I missed the sex like crazy, I'd never gone so long without it before, and I missed her giggles, those coy looks she'd send over her shoulder at me.

The moment she'd gotten that baby bump, all of that stopped.

I was still going through withdrawals.

I wanted --- needed --- it now that I had it.

Being trapped with Mel for three weeks was going to be torture. I wouldn't be getting sweet kisses or halfway smiles, I'd get... Mel.

I wasn't looking forward to it.

Tags: @jcause.    @elaacreditava.       @riegan.   @deathbyamonster @pathybo@buried-in-books @maquet-lambb.  @jojuarez26. @ljvosscmt    @beltz2016 @magellan-88     @kenzieam    @tigpooh67   @rred87

[writingismyhappytime]

Dauntless: Daddy, Dearest (Part 2)

Eric x OC

Warnings; Language, angst

It must have been the look on my face that gave me away.

Max turned to look at me from across the table where plans lay for the new building Erudite wanted to construct. We’d have to move out a lot of factionless in order to tear down the old warehouses and build new ones that are going to house the computer systems.

I didn’t give a shit about that part, though. What I cared about is the fact it’s going to happen across the city and Max wanted me to be the head of it.

“Eric, you look like you want to say something.” Max said after a moment, glancing around the room. Yeah, I knew there was more then just us in here. Four and his bitch girlfriend stood across from me, her face pinched; she didn’t agree with moving the factionless out. Melanie stood beside me, looking bored; she didn’t like being taken away from the armory and polishing her guns. Normally Camille would be in on these types of meetings, but I suddenly figured out why she hadn’t been invited to this one.

“I can’t lead this op.” I said, point blank. Max didn’t look very surprised. “I can’t be across the city right now.”

“Eric ---.”

“No. Camille’ seven months pregnant, she’s already psychotic. Do you really want her rampaging through Dauntless throwing hissy fits and causing riots because you sent me off?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes. “Or do you want Dauntless to burn to the ground?”

Max actually sighed.

Camille’s pregnancy has been a whirlwind from the very beginning. The night she’d told me, I’d had to leave for rescue mission, to retrieve a member of Dauntless who’d been held hostage by some factionless.

I’d voted we let them have him, but everyone else said otherwise. I’d been more worried about what would happen if I died on that mission then any other I’d ever gone on; I didn’t want to leave Camille on her own with a baby. She had enough baggage, she didn’t need me dying on her.

I’d almost missed her first doctors appointment with the baby because I’d been on a mission for Max, and still she throws that up in my face when she’s mad enough. If I bailed on her in the last two months of her pregnancy, she’d skin me alive.

So no, I’m not going on any mission, I’m not leading any fucking ops. Max could assign someone else, my girlfriend and our child take top priority right now. I intended to lead Dauntless one day, but I also intended on having someone at my side as I did it.

Max wouldn’t understand, he’d never knocked anyone up or had that responsibility on him. 

But I did. I had to handle this my way --- and sometimes Camille’s way.

Mostly her way.

“Eric, you’re the best I have at keeping everyone controlled when away from base. I need you on this assignment; Ms. Matthews asked for you specifically.”

Of course she did, but that didn’t mean I’d come running. I’d left Erudite for a reason, I’m not going to be their little bitch now.

“Send Four,” I said, throwing him under the bus. “He can do nearly as good of a job as I can. Hell, send his girlfriend too, they’ll be fine.” 

“Four is in intelligence, not leadership.”

“Well, what the fuck do I care?” I glared at him, getting pissy at this point. “I can’t run off and leave my girlfriend. And I can’t take her over there where she’ll be in danger, she’s the size of a fucking crater right now!”

“Wow, Camille must love spending time with you,” Melanie chuckled, cutting her eyes at me from beneath her blonde dreads. “Do you call her a crater to her face?”

“Among other things.”

Melanie laughed, leaning back on her heels. I knew it cracked her up that I’d slipped up and knocked my girlfriend up, that out of all of us I was the one going to be a father. A parent. A fucking role model for the young. She had been giving me grief about it since the second she found out, and she hadn’t stopped. In fact, it pleased her to no end to rub it in my face.

Although, when it came to Camille, she was noticeably more silent. Camille was a badass, she’s lethal when she wants to be. She’s been shot, stabbed, kidnapped by factionless --- she’s come through all of it. She’s high in leadership for a reason, and every initiate group she’d ever trained had come through with high marks. She’s a tough teacher, but that’s where her passion is.

Even pregnant, she trained the new initiates. She couldn’t get in the ring and fight with them this time, but I did hear that she decked one of them for smarting off to her; did I mention she was a little more erratic now?

Turns out, pregnancy wasn’t really her strong suit.

I didn’t think it would be so bad if she wouldn’t worry so much. Her family was fucked up, her father abandoned them when she was young. Her mother died, leaving her and her brother, and then her brother turned traitor, stabbed her, and run off. Oh, and then a little while ago she shot him to save my life, so there was also that.

She’s got a little baggage.

But fuck, didn’t we all?

“Well, Eric’s got a point. His baby mama will terrorize the rest of us if he’s not here. Let me run the op, let Eric keep the peace until his spawn is born, and then he can take lead.”

Uh.

“You want me to take over after my child is born?” I ask incredulously.

“Camille can handle it on her own, she’s carried it this long.”

I didn’t think Melanie quite understood.

I didn’t know which suggestion she’d just made was worse.

“Melanie, are you sure that’s what you want to do? You’ll be giving up the armory for a few months, you’ll be out in the field.” Max warned her, as if he really gave a shit.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m just a few hours walk away, so if something comes up, I can get back.” Melanie replied, her tattooed arms crossed. “It’s not a big deal. Eric needs to be here right now. Four, don’t you agree?” she cut her eyes at him, putting him on the spot.

Four frowned, but eventually nodded.

“Yes.”

If Four agreed, that had to tell Max something. I knew as leader, he thought he had all the control over Dauntless, but he was wrong. He gave the big orders, but he didn’t spend time with his people. Other then his position, they had no reason to be loyal to him. 

They followed those who trained them, who molded them into soldiers. They followed people like me, and Camille, and unfortunately Four. We trained years worth of initiates, we talk to them every day, we form bonds. We set an example of what it means to be Dauntless.

They would follow us over Max, of that I had no doubt. He just didn’t realize it. So, really, overthrowing him wouldn’t be an issue if for some reason I was overlooked when it came time to shift the power around. I could take Four out of the league fast enough, he didn’t want the job anyhow.

No, I wanted it.

If I had control of Dauntless, there wouldn’t be any factionless. We’d get rid of them, throw them over the wall and let them fend for themselves. Whatever’s out there can have them, I didn’t care. They’d stop draining our resources then, stop taking up our space and causing us problems. Those people had chosen their lot in life, they were failures unable to conform.

We didn’t need them.

But, those are thoughts for another day.

Max rambled on for a few more minutes, explaining the op, what needs to be done. Melanie listened for the most part, but I knew she was gonna fuck it up; she was in the armory for a reason. Great soldier, but not much of a people person.

It’s going to be a disaster.

~~~~~~~

“Honey, I’m home!” I called as I stepped into my apartment. When no one cussed at me or threw their arms around me and whimpered how much they love me, I sighed. Those are the two greetings I was getting used too, Camille has some major mood swings.

I frowned, shutting the door behind me. It’s late, I’m surprised she isn’t here. She’s pretty self conscious about herself right now, having that baby bump and all that. Really, she looks perfect, just like she shoved a ball under her shirt. She was always small, and from the back you can’t tell she’s having a kid in two months.

Fuck, two months, that’s all the time we have left together. Soon we’ll have a screaming loaf of bread to deal with, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I don’t know how to be a father, I don’t even remember mine, He was never there, and my Erudite days seem like a completely different... it’s like those memories aren’t even mine, they belong to someone else. 

I don’t know how to do this.

It didn’t seem real, in the beginning. I mean, I saw the test, Camille said she was pregnant, but she never looked it until the last two months or so. It’s like the kid suddenly decided to announce itself and her stomach grew times two. 

I sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh, running my hands down my face. It’s hitting me more and more how much everything is going to change. Once that kid is here, Camille’s focus will be on it, I won’t be important anymore. I knew that’s how it’s supposed to be, she’s a mother, but --- I didn’t have to like it.

Maybe Melanie’s right, when it’s born, I could stay a few days but then move on. Camille could have the kid all to herself, and I wouldn’t be in the way. She could do a better job without me around, anyway. I didn’t know the first thing about parenting, about taking care of something or someone.

What if I hurt it? What if I drop it or it won’t stop screaming and crying? It’s not like there’s classes on this stuff or I would even go to them. Hell, I’ve never even held a baby! Snarled my nose at a few of them so they’d scream, but that’s the extent of my experience with them.

I’m doomed.

We both are.

I looked over as the door opened, relaxing when I saw my girlfriend step inside. She’s still dressed in all black, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, eyes painted up. Her sweater clung to her body, and it made her look a little smaller, but didn’t hide the bump. 

She gave me a tired smile when she saw me at the table.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I leaned back in the chair, watching as she kicked off her boots, unable to reach them now. She had a hard time leaning over at that point. “Where’ve you been?”

“With Tori. She got some new ink and ---.”

“You didn’t get a new tattoo, did you?” I asked thoughtlessly, and she rolled her eyes at me.

“No, I didn’t. I know you’re not supposed to until after the kid is out. Don’t look at me so accusingly.”

Hmph.

I don’t respond, just prop my head on my hand, watching her. I mean, I might be having some major freak outs about this whole baby thing in my head, but that didn’t mean I didn’t give a shit. It’s my spawn, I wanted to make sure it was taken care of.

“How are you feeling?” I asked after a second, watching her press the button on the pot to make more coffee. “You look nice today.”

“Thanks, I was visiting my other boyfriend.”

I scowled. “Camille.”

“What?” she glanced over her shoulder at me. “What are you so stuffy about today? Max give you a new asshole or something?”

That sounded more like Camille. She’d never had an issue with insulting me to my face, no matter who was around. It’s one of the things I found so attractive about her, her brazenness, her lack of care about bullshit. 

“Max and Erudite are working together again,” I said after a moment, gratefully taking the cup of black coffee she handed me. “Erudite wants some new buildings to house some computer systems, and they want Dauntless to run the factionless out so we can do it.”

“Why do they need another building?” She sprinkled some sugar into her coffee, a habit she’d only had recently.

“Hell if I know. Brainiacs don’t have enough space, I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders, letting my eyes run over her. Her skin is flushed, just like it always is, and I understood all the bullshit about the pregnant glow now. She’s still beautiful, she still had that aura of “I’ll kick your ass even though I’m the size of a planet,” going on. 

“So what did Max want with you? Lead the op?” She sipped her coffee, leaning her hips back against the counter as she gazed at me, her dark eyes framed by black lashes. “I bet he thinks you’re the only one who can keep it from falling apart.”

“Something like that,” I muttered, feeling  the tiniest bit guilty. I’d seriously considered doing it for a few seconds, but.. “The project’s to start pretty soon, we gotta start moving the factionless out. Bulldoze the old warehouse buildings, start from the ground up.” 

“Seems kind of shitty to make those people lose their homes just for computers.”

“You don’t care about the factionless, what does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, looking down at the cup between her hands. “It doesn’t, I guess. Are you going to lead it?”

“No, Melanie is.”

“What?” She looked at me in surprise. “You turned it down?”

“It’s across the city, Camille. I’d have to stay over there, I can’t be in two places at once. The baby is due soon.”

“Yeah, in two months.” She looked down at her stomach. “I mean, if you want to lead it, you can, Eric. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You say that, but in fifteen minutes you’ll be screaming at me if I do accept it.”

“You know Melanie is going to fuck it up, don’t you?”

“Yeah. But it’s not my problem,” I get to my feet, stretching my arms over my head. “Four didn’t want it, so that just leaves her.”

“I like how I’m not an option.” Camille huffed a little, put out. She worried the whole being pregnant thing was hurting her career, making her miss the big opportunities to move up some more ranks, but she was fine. I’d have all the power one day and she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“You’re safe here, there’s no point in you going out there,” I informed her, stepping around the table and to her side. I leaned against the counter with her, brushing her hair behind her ear. “That’s the only reason. Otherwise we’d both be out there so Max could get some peace without us.”

Camille chuckled, her lips drawing.

She knew I was right.

I slipped my arm around her shoulder, pressing my lips into her hair.

“I’m not going anywhere until the kid is born,” I murmured, feeling her lean into me. “You two have my attention.”

“I like how you say, ‘until it’s born.’” She muttered, catching on. “Are you going to leave me then? When it’s here, and it’s crying, and needing the most attention? Is that when you’re going to take over the op?”

Her tone was so accusing.

“No, it’s not. Melanie has all of it.”

“Melanie is a fuck up and we both know it,” She snapped, straightening. I sighed as she sat her coffee cup down rather hard, causing the liquid to slosh over the side. “She won’t last two weeks.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” I scowled at her; I knew this was fucking coming. I get so sick of her picking fights with me, of getting angry over every other word I say. She overanalyzed everything right now!

“I don’t want you to do it!”

“I’m not doing it. You just said I should!” I took a step away from her, irritated. “Make up your fucking mind, Camille. Half the time you want me here, half the time you don’t.”

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time, that’s why!”

“I’m not doing anything, you’re the one who’s having screaming fits over every little thing,” I put the kitchen table between us before I turned to look at her again. “We can’t have a conversation without you causing an argument!”

“Oh, I like how everything is my fault!” She responded sarcastically, her hands going to her hips. “That’s how it always is, isn’t it? I’m sure getting pregnant was my fault, too!”

“Why the fuck are you even getting bitchy? There’s nothing to fight about!” I ignored her last comment, just like always. I swore she felt guilty about getting knocked up, but I knew it wasn’t intentional. Shit just happened. We weren’t careful, and it was both our faults. “I’m not leaving, I’m not going on an op! I’m staying here.”

“Why? So you can throw it in my face later?” She demanded, clenching her hands, and I was sure tears were in her eyes. “Tell me I’m holding you back?”

“When have I ever done that?” I tried not to roll my eyes, not to sound exasperated. I tried to remind myself she’s irrational, hormonal, her nerves are shot and she’s currently growing a child inside of her. 

Camille glared at me, but she didn’t say another word. In fact, she just stomped off, leaving the kitchen and heading for our bedroom. Really, the apartment was too big for just the two of us with four bedrooms, it’s like Max thought we’d be popping a bunch of spawns out now.

No.

Camille would probably never let me touch her now, we already haven’t had sex in a month --- not that I was keeping track. I’m not used to this, she was always so vivacious, so ready to fuck, and now she wouldn’t touch me if she had a gun to her head.

I sighed, watching her disappear.

I might love the woman, but I’m not sure how this is going to go now. I couldn’t think of myself being anywhere else, and yet now I’m starting to panic. I didn’t know how to be a parent, what if I fuck the kid up and it ends up like me? What if I hurt it?

What if I hurt Camille?

The closer it comes to that kid being born, the more nervous I get.

I wasn’t sure if I could do this or not.

Tags: @jcause.    @elaacreditava.       @riegan.   @deathbyamonster @pathybo@buried-in-books  @maquet-lambb.  @jojuarez26. @ljvosscmt    @beltz2016 @magellan-88

[writingismyhappytime]

Dauntless: I Can't Stop (Part 3)

Eric x OC

Warnings: language

"Jackson and Peter are still missing, lost somewhere in the factionless district."

"So?"

"We need to retrieve them, see what information we can gather."

"They're dead most likely. Why should we bother to go after them?" Melanie grouched unhappily, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Are we just going for the bodies or something?"

"According to the trackers we have on everyone's suits, one of them is still alive," Max replied calmly, just as he always did. He gestured at the wall behind him, all the eyes in the rooms following.

A red light blinked on the wall, whereas all the others were still. They all had numbers beneath them, everyone had one in their suit when they went out on missions far from Dauntless headquarters.

So one of those fuckers were alive.

"So what? They're toast at this point," Melanie said, face sour. "The factionless are ripping them a new asshole."

"Or they're hid out somewhere," Max disagreed. "Might be recoverable."

"Why risk it? We all know the chances of getting left behind on a mission like that." I didn't want to go back out in that damned mess. Camille would want to come this time, it being a recovery mission, and I didn't want that.

"It's something we're going to need to plan out. More then just a four man team this time." Max explained, ignoring my comment. "We need to retrieve them."

"When you say more then four..?" I frowned, disliking the idea already.

"I mean, I'm sending a rescue team out. I'm going to enlist some of our top members and send them with you and Melanie."

I groaned.

I didn't want to go back out!

"Don't worry, Eric, Camille isn't going to be allowed." Max added, looking vaguely amused. I was starting to get the impression everyone thought she had me by the balls. "I don't want you two distracting each other and jeopardizing the mission. I'm sending you all out tonight, at midnight."

"Well who else are you sending with us?" Melanie demanded, her tattooed fingers tugging on her blonde dreads. "Are we supposed to tell them we were out on a sweep? Just four of us?"

"It was just supposed to be recon, and the factionless attacked and killed one of you. Simple." Max didn't seem perturbed at all. "You're going back to recover one who was kidnapped. We can keep it under wraps this way. I'll send ten members, all top rank."

Wait.

All of top rank?

I knew my face soured immediately. Fucking great, I wasn't excited about this at all.

"Yes, I'm sending Four along, Eric. He was number one in his class, and he's top intelligence."

"He's a fucking prick is what he is."

"You're an asshole, it's not like you can say anything," Melanie countered with a smirk. "So shut the fuck up."

"Don't be a bitch to me, Mel, or next time I'll leave your ass out there." I bitched back at her, but I didn't take it personally, this is just what we did.

"Okay kids, break it up. Eric, you go find Four. Melanie, round up Ezekiel. I'll radio the rest."

We both groaned, sending him a resentful look; neither of us wanted to fuck with who we were going to have to find.

I knew where Four was, fucking around with that ballsy Abnegation bitch. They'd hooked up during initiation, which was probably the only reason she'd made it out with such high marks.

I didn't like her one bit, and neither did Camille. Of course she liked Four, he'd saved her life after all. Her brother had stabbed her, and Four had happened to conveniently be around to save her life.

So, she was sorta fond of him.

I'd like to punch him in the face, actually.

Maybe I'd get the chance one day.

I cracked my knuckles as I left the conference room, grunting. I wasn't looking forward to this.

"Alright, I'll meet you back here." Mel sighed. She reached over, squeezing my arm. "You better tell your woman you're leaving tonight again."

"Why don't you tell her for me?"

"Why? Afraid she's going to bust your balls?"

"Afraid she's going to bust Max's."

She snorted, grinning as she turned away and started down the opposite hall. Camille was a force to be reckoned with and even Max, the leader of Dauntless, had bent to her will a time of two.

Camille might not know it, but she'd garnered a lot of respect in Dauntless. All of her initiates she trained were top notch, they always held high marks. She took care of them, even if she was harsh and demanding.

She didn't take any shit, and although everyone kind of stayed away from her, I knew they listened to her, that they went to her for advice. She was important in leadership and pretty valuable.

I know I couldn't function without her.

Now, to find the fucker.

~~~~~

"It's not because I want you coming," I snapped crossly, glaring at Four as we started down the hall. "But Max wants you along for the retrieval mission. Apparently whoever the factionless took has some valuable information."

"You left one of us behind?" Four didn't sound very impressed, not that I cared what he thought.

"Didn't have much choice, kind of had bullets pinging off the concrete by my head." I scowled. "Mel and I had to bail, we'd waited as long as we could."

"None of you should have separated."

"You can shove the judgement up your ass, Four. We were under attack and we had to dive for cover. Trust me, if I knew I'd have to go back for them later, I would have gone back for them."

No I wouldn't have.

I cherished my own ass more then theirs.

Four didn't say anything else, and the two of us continued walking down the hallway in silence.

Condescending, uppity fucker.

"I don't know why Camille likes you so much." I muttered, cutting my eyes at him. I still had my suspicions about the two of them, I thought they were rather too buddy - buddy still.

She'd never convince me she hadn't fucked him at least once, he did save her life after all.

I'd seen the way Camille could show her... gratefulness.

Many times actually.

Sometimes upside down.

Heh, that had been fun.

"Probably because I'm not an ass." Four responded, glaring at me. He never did have a problem putting me in my place. "I don't treat everyone like I'm superior to them."

"I am superior," I smirked, flexing my hands. I had no question of that.

Four said something else, but I pretended not to hear him as we turned the corner.

We were heading for the infirmary, I was supposed to meet Melanie there. She would fill in Four with whatever bullshit she was supposed too, it was why I wasn't saying much. I didn't need to say the wrong thing.

We walked there in silence, and I opened the door, not caring if it slammed in his face.

I spotted Mel talking to one of the doctors, tattooed hands gesturing through the air as I came to her side. She glanced at me, finishing up with the doctor and turning to me.

"David and Frannie are coming. Ezekiel is too."

"Who are the others?"

"Dunno yet, Max hasn't said. I just go find who he tells me too."

"You enjoy playing fetch?"

"You're the bitch, Eric, not me."

I chuckled.

Mel sent me a smirk, then turned away, gesturing for Four to step to her side so they could speak. They wandered over to where Ezekiel stood, the three of them talking.

I sighed, absently rubbing on my arm. It wasn't bandaged anymore, but the wounds were healing and they itched. "Eric."

"Doc." I cut my eyes at the doctor as she stepped to my side, looking down at her charts. I didn't know her real name, she was an older women who'd always been in here.

"I saw your girlfriend earlier." She said after a moment, glancing up at me.

Huh?

I looked down at the blonde woman beside me, trying not to show that I was startled. "You saw Camille."

"Mhm. Yes, she was in here earlier, but she left before I could ask if she needed something. Has she been feeling well?"

"Yes." As far as I knew anyway.

"Well, when you see her next, tell her not to run off so fast! It's time for her yearly check up anyway."

"Alright."

What the hell was Camille doing in here earlier? She didn't have any reason to be in the infirmary that I knew of anyhow.

Was she sick?

Should I be worried?

What was wrong with her? Why wouldn't she tell me if she wasn't feeling good?

Now I was fucking worried!

What the hell!?

~~~~~

I walked quick, impatient to drop Four off at the training room so I could find my girlfriend and demand answers.

I was pissed she didn't tell me she was sick, what other reason would she have to be in the infirmary?

I was going to fucking find out!

Funny, how in tune I was with Camille. I spotted her the moment I turned the corner, her black hair catching my attention.

She usually kept it up, and it was always so soft and long, it slipped right through my fingers most of the time. I liked how long she kept it, I'd probably pitch a fit if she ever cut it.

I started to speak, to call out to her. Camille glanced, her dark eyes landing on me, and I literally saw pure panic in her eyes.

What the hell?

I blinked, watching as my girlfriend fled in panic in the opposite direction. She disappeared out of sight, and I actually paused, my steps faltering.

Why did she just run away from me?

She'd never done that before.

Camille?

"What did you do?" Four asked almost immediately, painfully amused.

I scowled at him, clenching my jaw and refusing to say a word.

What.

The.

Fuck?

I ground my teeth as I upped my pace, intent on chasing that fleeing bitch down and finding out what the fuck was wrong with her.

I had way too much shit going on today, now what? I had to go back and fucking save someone from the factionless I tried to kill last night, as if that wasn't stressful enough!

I'd barely had any sleep yet!

I didn't want to go back!

In fact, I didn't want to fucking do anything for a few days!

Camille still thought it was a sweep gone wrong, and I wasn't going to explain it any differently.

Hell, that asshole that got left behind might be dead by the time we finally get there! I was hoping for it, actually, I didn't want to waste my time going after him.

I had bigger problems.

I needed to find my girlfriend.

~~~~~

I rubbed my jaw, sitting at the plastic table as Max droned  on and on about the mission plans. Mel sat beside me, fiddling with her hair, eyes as glazed as mine.

Everyone was listening intently to Max explain how the sweep went wrong, that one of us is still out there fighting for his life.

Everyone looked much more interested to his lie then me or Mel.

I cut my eyes at her, but her eyes were drifting closed, hand slipping. I could probably skip out unnoticed.

I hadn't been able to find Camille anywhere earlier today, and I'd practically scoured the compound.

Where the hell could she have been hiding from me?

I looked everywhere but up!

...

Up!

Fuck!

I should have checked the roof!

Hell, I needed to get out of here.

I sent Mel a look, but her eyes were firmly shut. She was taking a much needed nap, that's for sure. I glanced about the room, and then slowly stood, making sure not to let the chair make any sound.

I backed out, not even Max noticing as I left the room, not caring if the door was loud or not.

I was on the hunt.

~~~~~~

Oh fuck.

I hadn't expected this.

Shit, I was dying.

I sat down heavily on the edge of our bath tub, my legs giving out on me. I couldn't fucking believe this.

Was this a prank?

Some kind of sick joke!?

Would she do this to me!?

I ran my hands down my tired face, feeling like something heavy was pushing down on my shoulders. My brain was blank, and I stopped thinking for several minutes.

I was shocked.

Fuck!

What the hell was I going to do?  I was a selfish, egotistical motherfucker, and I didn't give two shits about anyone but Camille.

I loved her, she was basically the only good thing in my life. She kept me grounded, I respected her for not being afraid to put me in my place when I got out of line. The bitchier she was to me, the more I cared about her.

I thought that was clear to everyone. If someone so much as looked at her wrong, I'd snap them in half.

Admittedly, we were a powercouple. Our mere presence demanded respect and obedience, probably why we didn't have any friends.

Well, Camille had that tattoo artist, and Ezekiel. I wasn't sure if she claimed Four as a friend or not though.

I didn't bother with friends, I didn't have time and they just got in the way.

Well.

Fuck me, I guess Mel was a friend. One of the few.

Whatever.

I needed to focus.

Camille was pregnant.

Or so it seemed.

I propped my chin on my hand, staring at the white box that had fallen into the floor. Camille wasn't subtle, so I wasn't sure if this was her way of telling me or not.

She probably just forgot the damn box.

Was she really? Was she going to have a baby?

... my baby?

Did I want a baby?

Hell no! I didn't want a fucking kid!

Hell, I didn't want to share Camille either!

A kid would take up all her time, and I thoroughly enjoyed fucking her any time I wanted, wherever I wanted!

Which is probably how we got into this mess.

It took two to fuck after all.

Dammit.

Okay, so.

Did Camille want a baby?

She'd never mentioned it, and I knew she had issues with her parents abandoning her and shit. Then, of course, her brother attempted to murder her and shit.

Would it be a boy?

Girl?

Which did I want?

Which did Camille want?

Wait, no, that didn't matter! She had to get rid of it, we didn't have time for a kid right now! There was this shit with the factionless, we were basically at war with them right now. If she had a kid, then we'd have to worry about what happened to it too, not just ourselves.

Shit.

She couldn't have it, we couldn't have it.

But could I tell her that?

I mean, that was my kid in there. My ass kicking, no fuck giving kid. It would be a badass, wouldn't it? It wouldn't take names, it would just start shooting.

And with both of our congenial personalities, it would be a real peach.

I snorted, pressing my face into my hand.

We were so fucked.

We had to talk about this.

I was leaving for my mission tonight, and if I got shot and died out there, I didn't want Camille thinking I'd hate her because she was pregnant.

Which I figured was why she was avoiding me. She was dramatic after all. She probably didn't want to tell me, she thought I'd be mad at her and she was bailing.

Hell yes I was mad! Not necessarily at her, but more so the circumstances.

At least this explained why she was more irrational then usual. She was growing a small baby Eric.

How awful that must be for her.

So did she want it? Did she want to keep it? Did she want to be a mother?

I don't want to be a father.

But I wasn't going to abandon Camille, either . I loved her, despite all her bullshit, because I knew she loved me too. We'd been through so much shit together, a baby wasn't going to make me forget everything she'd done for me even when we weren't sleeping together.

She was my woman.

I'd die for her.

A baby's not gonna change that for me.

I just hope it didn't for her.

We had to talk about this, we had to... I wanted to make sure she knew I cared about her and that everything was going to be alright.

I would just have to wait until she decided to come home, I was tired of chasing her around the compound now.

So the wait begins.

~~~~~

Finally!

I watched as the front door slowly creaked open, Camille finally popping her head inside.

I'd turned the lights off when I'd tossed my jacket onto one of the chairs, and I kept wandering my way into the bathroom, gazing at that dooming box.

I leaned against the wall, out of her line of sight.

"Eric?" She called after a moment, sounding meek for the first time. When I didn't respond, she shut the door, huffing. At least she'd turned the lights on, but she didn't see me.

She took a few steps into the kitchen, eyes scanning. I gave it a moment, my heart hammering against my chest.

Okay, this was it. We were going to have this damned conversation .

I stepped forward.

"Er --- jeez! Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" She gasped, staring at me as the floor creaked. She whirled, pressing her hand against her chest.

She cut her eyes at me uneasily when I didn't say anything, but I couldn't. I wanted to talk about the baby immediately, but I couldn't get the words out.

I didn't know what to say.

Everything was about to change and I didn't want it too.

I just looked at her in silence.

She was so tense, I could tell it where I stood. She looked on the verge of running again, and I definitely didn't want that.

Somehow she could hide from me.

"Eric?" She asked nervously when I  just stood there, studying her. She didn't look very pregnant, still just fit and badass in her black clothing.

I frowned.

"Why did you run from me today?" I finally asked, deciding to take it slow. I could work up to the main point of the conversation, I felt I should be delicate .

"Me? I don't run from anything," she scoffed, shakily taking a step back, making sure the table was between us.

Huh.

Did she think I would throw her out the window or something? I'd thought about it in the past a few times just to her her to shut the fuck up, but it hadn't crossed my mind tonight.

"You took one look at me and ran in the other direction." I narrowed my eyes at me, stepping up to the table, making it impossible for her to dart around in either direction. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

She just looked at me, blatant panic on her face. I'd never seen her look so afraid before, all the blood draining from her tan face. She tugged nervously on her loose black hair, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

I loved kissing those lips.

Ah, no, focus.

"You want to tell me why you were in the infirmary today?" I asked softly when she didn't speak, trying to prod her.

Her entire body went still.

She reached back, grabbing onto the counter tightly, her knuckles going white. Her lips parted, her eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything at all.

I hesitated, tensing as she started to breathe in short, sharp breaths, a pained look overcoming her face.

Oh shit!

She was having a panic attack!

I nearly scaled the table in my attempt to get to her quickly, my heart thundering hard against my ribs.

"Camille! Shit, baby, breathe!"

My hands closed around her face, my thumbs caressing her cheek. She blinked a couple times, still gasping for breath. Her eyes were sort of glazed, and I didn't doubt she was on the verge of passing out.

"It's okay, it's okay," I said quickly, brushing her hair out of her face, caressing her wet cheeks with my thumbs. "Camille, breathe."

I was getting worried about her.

"You're going to hate me," she sort of whimpered, curling in on herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears still seeping from her lashes.

My poor girl.

She was so worried about this, so afraid. I wish there was something I could do to not make her feel so afraid, so scared.

I wasn't going to leave her.

But I wanted her to tell me herself. I wanted her to tell me she was pregnant, that she was having my kid.

"Camille, baby, what's wrong?" I finally asked. "Are you sick? Is that why you were in the infirmary? The doctors said you just ran out earlier ---."

"You'll hate me!" she rasped, but I shook my head, keeping my thumbs in a soothing stroke across her cheeks, hoping it was helping.

"I could never hate you, Camille." I said honestly, wanting to shake her for thinking I ever could. I would die for her, I would kill for her, I would take a bullet --- I'd already done the last two.

I would always be here for her.

She shook her head, burying her face into her hands.

"I'm so sorry!" She blubbered, starting to hunch again.

Oh jeez.

She had reached dramatic.

No, supernova.

Psychosis here we come.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I, I don't know where I messed up, we - we ---." She inhaled sharply, her words jumbled and hardly intelligible.

"Camille," I sighed heavily, shaking my head as I  brushed constantly at her face. "It's alright!"

"No its not! You don't know ---!" She gasped, and I couldn't take it, I had to finally say something before she gave herself a heart attack.

"I do know," I interrupted her, my voice serious.

Her eyes widened in horror.

How stupid did she think I was?

"I found the box in the bathroom, Camille," I said after a moment, brushing at her tear-dampened hair. "You don't exactly cover your tracks well."

She was kind of dumb after all.

She didn't say anything, just tensed beneath my grasp. She just looked at me with those big dark eyes, swallowing hard.

So she wasn't going to tell me, I was going to have to pry it out of her.

Wondeful.

Typical Camille .

"Are you?" I asked after a moment, her eyes finding mine. "Are you sure?"

The words burned my throat, and I had never been so relieved to ask a question in my life, nor dread the answer.

She made a choking sound before nodding slowly.

Fuck.

I inhaled sharply, dropping my hands from her face and taking a step back.

Okay.

So she was.

She was pregnant.

We were going to have a child together .

A person, both of us combined.

I hope it took more after her.

Not me.

I hated myself more often than not. I wasn't a good person, I didn't do good things. I set a bad example for the human race.

Camille was the only good thing about me.

So I wouldn't leave her.

I kept thinking that over and over, because of it had been any other woman I never would have stuck around this long, I wouldn't have wanted a child with them.

I didn't want her to be afraid or unsure about our future together.

Wow I was handling this well.

Maybe because I'd actually started thinking about the future when it had gotten serious with Camille . No one had ever lived with me before, no one had ever cared about me, did the sweet little things she did like morning kisses and boops on my nose even when I pretended not to like it.

I loved everything about her.

Resentfully most of the time of course.

"Okay. Then we need to make plans." I said decisively, frowning at the pained look on her face.

I could see her mind whirring, probably something horrible before my words finally registered.

"Plans?" She rasped in surprise, a stupid look on her face as she stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

"Yes. Plans. You can't go on missions anymore, you're sure as hell not going to be training intiates." I started to name off all the things I wouldn't let her do anymore.

"Are you not mad?" She asked in a rather small voice. "You don't want me to leave and throw myself off the train?"

"Not unless you really want too." I shrugged.

"Eric!"

I couldn't help it, I chuckled.

She was so dramatic.

"Camille, we've been together for almost a year now, we have a place together, everyone fears the ground we walk on. If we can fight factionless, be kidnapped and tortured, get shot over and over again --- we can, yknow, probably have a decent kid together." I explained, cupping her arms and making sure she knew I was serious. I didn't want her to have any doubts.

"Why aren't you more surprised?" She demanded, wrenching out of my grasp and putting some distance between us.

"Why aren't you mad or saying I'm ruining your life?" She practically snapped, riling up.

"Trust me, when I found the box I was pissed as fuck." I crossed my arms, watching her with narrowed eyes. "I don't want a kid, I'm selfish, you're the only other person I give a fuck about. I'll be a terrible father, I'm an asshole and I fully intend on working my way to leading Dauntless. But..." I suppose I should bring up something good instead of being so Negative, it didn't look like I was convincing her. " well, having a kid isn't exactly going to change my plans, and without you with me they sort of lose appeal."

I was just going to be as honest as possible.

She gave me the dumb look again. "Camille," I  sighed, resigned as my hands closed around my arms for the second time. "Come on. You know I'm in fucking love with you, don't you?"

I was going for blunt.

I brushed my fingers through her long hair. "I almost died trying to save you, and I don't give up my life for just anyone."

Maybe that would get through her thick head.

"Eric." Her voice was small.

I smirked at her, and tweaked her nose in that annoying way she always did mine.

"Stop being weak, Camille, people will think you're a push over." I said gently, wanting her to feel better.

She sniffled, batting my hand away in annoyance.

"So you don't hate me? You're not going to leave me?" She still sounded so... meek.

I didn't like that.

My hands rose to cup her hot face, and I forced her to look up at me.

"I will never leave you," I told her firmly. "I will never make you leave, I will never want you to be anywhere that I'm not. You and whatever that spawn is that you're carrying, we're in this together.

I meant that wholeheartedly.

"You're such an asshole," she hiccuped, rubbing her eyes. I saw her lips twitch. "It's your stupid spawn!"

I smiled, my shoulders relaxing.

That's my girl.

I leaned forward, kissing her quickly while she was sane.

"I was upset when I found out," I said after a moment, hereyes wandering to mine. "I never wanted kids, I don't want the responsibility. I felt like it would hold me back. But that's before your sassy ass became mildly important to me."

"I better be more then mild, asshole."

Heh.

"I care about you, Camille, and I know I won't stop any time soon. You've been moody and whiny as fuck lately, so I figured something was wrong."

My fault, of course.

"It was probably all the birthday sex," I sighed thoughtfully.

That had been one hell of a night of fucking.

"One out of three finally did us in." I added, enjoying how red her cheeks became at the memory.

Wait, I didn't like that sudden frown.

"You didn't knock me up on purpose, did you?" She suddenly asked.

Hell no.

I just said I didn't want kids!

"Hell no! I don't want to share you with anyone else, I don't even like seeing you with Zeke." I shuddered at the thought.

She frowned, crossing her arms and sighing. "What are we going to do, Eric? I'm not... prepared, for this. I'm a soldier, not... not a mother."

"We'll figure this shit out," I  told her, giving her a crooked grin. "It can't be that hard. It just cries and stuff in the beginning."

Right?

And shits a lot?

Her frown increased. "I'm not staying up every night with it."

"We'll take turns." I lied. "But, Camille, I'm serious. I'm getting you off patrols immediately, you're not going anywhere near the factionless. And no training or physical fighting, either, I won't risk it. And I don't think you should leave the compound. I don't want you or the baby getting in dangerous situations."

I don't think she was listening.

"What will we even name it?" She asked, her hands pressing against her toned stomach.

I blinked. "Name it?"

What?

"Mhmhmm. It's either a boy or a girl. What do you want?"

"I... don't know." I frowned, looking down at her stomach. "I... haven't thought about it."

Well, I had. But I didn't know what I wanted it to be.

Not like we had a choice though right?

"Either way we're fucked I guess," she shook her head. "Look at the two of us. Obviously you don't want it taking after my side of the family."

"Not mine either." I grimaced.

It would be shit if it did.

~~~~~~

I laid in bed, Camille snuggled into my chest, her legs twined with mine. I pressed kisses against her ear.

I loved her so much, and the evil spawn growing inside of her.

"Camille."

"Hmm?" She was half asleep, dozing in and out. I hadn't told her about the mission I had tonight, I wanted her to fall asleep so she wouldn't notice when I left.

I didn't want her to worry.

"You never told me you loved me too." I said softly, suddenly needing to hear her say it. I didn't want to go out there without her words in my mind.

"I don't, you're an asshole." She muttered, and I scowled.

Woman.

I shuffled her around, rolling her onto her back and crawling over her. I braced my arms on either side of her.

I didn't give her a choice but to look at me.

I frowned down at her.

I didn't like that answer.

I think she rolled her eyes at me.

She propped herself up onto one arm, he hand rising to cup my jaw, do fingers caressing the rough skin. Her soft, full lips found mine, kissing me gently and almost longingly, letting them say the words she wasn't.

I was okay with this.

i kissed her back deeply, pressing my hips more into hers, feeling that familiar stirring. I could get off at least once more before I had to leave, right?

"You know I love you too," she murmured against m lips, leaning back. "I've gotten shot too many times for you."

I chuckled, kissing her soft cheek. I let my hands roam down her body, finally coming to her stomach.

My baby was in there.

"No more putting yourself in danger," I murmured, nuzzling her cheek. I didn't want to risk my new little family.

I tugged on her shirt, lifting it up to bare her warm stomach. I slipped lower, my eyes soft as I looked at the soft skin. I pressed my lips against her abdomen, nuzzling her and my little baby.

"Eric..." She murmured, watching me. I don't think I'd ever seen her look at me with such love, and I absolutely adored the look on her face. I leaned up, quickly kissing her, pouring all the emotion I had in my blackheart.

I loved this woman so much.

And now I loved the little baby she was carrying, my baby, my boy.

I would even be okay with a girl, especially if it was like Camille.

It would be Dauntless, and that's all that mattered.

[vitaevandal]

Illuminated

Genre: Fan Fiction (Divergent) Pairing: Eric x OFC Warnings: Adult themes Rating: Mature Disclaimer: This a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line.

A/N: This is based on a request I received from @murmelinchen on my old blog @feminamortem that I can’t repost since I deleted it like a douche. The prompt was a one-shot of Eric and reader/OFC going on a moonlit walk. Here you go.

(I also apologize for not remembering who asked to be tagged in this besides @thihaf. Don’t let me do anything stupid like delete a blog again.)

Eric blindly paced back and forth through his living room, his fingers alternating between pinching the bridge of his nose and raking his usually impeccably styled hair into manic spikes. The relentless buzzing of the usual gathering of Dauntless in the Pit was pummeling his ears like a bass drum, making it impossible to think, so he’d fled to his apartment to clear his head, where the oppressive silence seemed to convolute his thoughts even further.

Typically on Thursdays she’d meet him at his apartment after her shift at one of Dauntless’s many tattoo parlors for their semi-weekly fuck; they were in mutual agreement that neither was looking for anything resembling a relationship, and the arrangement was uncomplicated and comfortable. They rarely wavered from this routine, and if one or the other couldn’t make it, they’d gotten to the point in their ‘liaison’ where they would at least do the other the courtesy of letting them know. So when she hadn’t shown up at the usual designated time without so much as a text, he knew something was amiss and headed straight for the parlor. Lucas, the one who handled piercings, was there alone, breaking down her station. His visage turned into one of dread as Eric, visibly upset, demanded, “Where is she?”

Lucas shrugged his shoulders, continuing when Eric’s glare intensified, “I really don’t know. She seemed kind of off all night, like real agitated, and when I asked her what was wrong she said she wasn’t feeling well. So I said I’d clean up here when we were done and as soon as she finished up her last client about an hour ago she practically bolted out of here. Maybe try the infirmary?”

Eric was surprised to find his annoyance had become tinged with worry. As he made the trek towards the infirmary, he became even more unsettled by the foreignness of such a feeling as concern for another person’s well-being. As he neared the hallway leading to the clinic he caught the sound of two voices speaking in hushed but frantic tones, one of which he recognized as hers, holding a conversation that was most likely not intended to be overheard. He halted abruptly before he rounded the corner and held back out of sight, holding his breath and listening intently.

“How could I have been so stupid?” She spoke lowly, but the alarm and anger in her voice was still evident. “Thinking it’s nothing but a touch of the flu. This honestly never even crossed my mind, not once. I thought we were being careful, I really did. But obviously not enough!” Eric chanced a peek around the corner and saw her slumped against the wall, one hand clutching a small paper bag, the other pressed against her forehead, before retreating back into the shadows. “I can’t even process this, Gina. What in the fuck am I going to do? Do I even tell him? How do you tell Eric of all people something like this?”

He heard the other girl exhale loudly and pause before replying, “Don’t panic. It won’t do you any good, what’s done is done. And maybe you don’t have to tell him, at least not yet.”

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t exactly something I’ll be able to hide! He’s going to find out eventually. And no matter how this plays out, he should know, he needs to take responsibility! I...Gina,” she whispered, as her voice began to break, “my entire life has literally just been ruined. This changes everything.”

Eric felt paralyzed as he attempted to digest this exchange. He was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of suffocation, of being trapped inside a bubble where the oxygen was growing short in supply and his surroundings were muted and distorted. His brain moved in hitches and spurts as he pieced their mutterings together.

“...a touch of the flu…thought we were being careful…what’s done is done…has to take responsibility…”

She was pregnant. And it was his.

A cold sweat sprang up through his pores as this fact clicked into place, and Eric went into panic mode. He had to get out of there. He needed time to think before she confronted him, and he was in no way fit to feign ignorance for her.

So here he was, making a blind trek through the landscape of his apartment, replaying the illicit dialogue over and over in his mind, attempting to catalogue his many reactions. Eric did hail from Erudite, and his position as a leader was not entirely ill-gotten; so despite a rather conflagrant temper, the union of his natural intelligence and militaristic conditioning had produced an ability to maintain logic, composure, and clarity in the most disastrous situations. Without actual conscious, choreographed thought, his brain began to disentangle the threads of the situation with the detached yet swiftly calculating adroitness of a born strategist. He’d knocked her up. While he could cling desperately to the hope that it wasn’t his, he had little reason to doubt that it was, so he wasted no time in entertaining that romantic notion and instead simply accepted it as an unassailable fact. One that needed immediate damage control, the top priority of which was unquestionably self-preservation.

While they had never discussed such a hypothetical, he believed he knew her well enough by now to confidently predict that she would not have an abortion, and besides, he operated by the creed of, “Hope for the best, but plan for the worst.” His first concern: how would the berth of fatherhood affect his leadership position? There were no rules in place regarding marital or dependent status, so there was no immediate threat to his career per se, but the burden that having a family would place on his time would undoubtedly skyrocket his already considerable stress level. Eric prided himself on prevailing over adversity, so while this was not exactly a challenge he would have sought out, he had no fear of this thwarting his ambitions. But on the personal level? A family would end life as he knew it. He’d never had to be accountable to anyone, never been in a committed relationship so never had any qualms about sleeping around. Never anyone besides Number One to look out for, never anyone for Eric to take care of besides Eric. A family would mean a practical and emotional onus unprecedented for him, and the question wasn’t whether he could be ready for such a thing, because there was no question about it - this was happening, he had to be. The question was just how miserable the rest of his entire fucking life was going to be. And that’s when it hit him.

Or rather, didn’t hit him, because the waves of anger and petulance and despair he expected to flood him never came. There was no outrage over the end of his old life. There was apprehension, there was fear, but could that really just be how his ingrained personality was translating...excitement? Optimism? At what he realized he was beginning to see as the onset of his new life?

True to his nature, resoluteness took hold quickly as he vowed to, at the very least, give this whole thing a shot. He was, after all, brave; he was Dauntless.

***

“Take a walk with me.”

“A walk? Where?” A bemused expression crossed her features before turning to one of trepidation.

“Navy Pier. For once it’s not hot as fuck in August, I think we should get out.” Eric looked at her almost beseechingly, which only made her warier. While his proposition was, as always, a command rather than a request, the uncertain and hopeful expression that accompanied it was altogether alien for him.

She paused briefly as she considered the opportunity this might afford her. He seemed to be in a pleasant mood, which could lend her an advantage in this situation. This nighttime excursion out of the compound also lent them the privacy she hoped for when she broke the news. She quickly changed her countenance to one of eagerness.

“Alright. Ready whenever you are.”

It was a rare evening on which Eric was not burdened with any extraneous leadership duties, so they set off immediately without him having to clear his schedule with any of his fellow leaders or his own assistant. They exited the compound unbothered through the seldom-used maintenance doors at the east end, leading to a path too narrow to accommodate vehicles, therefore of little use to anyone coming or going from the premises, Dauntless or otherwise.

Eric was right; the typical late summer humidity was absent from the night air, and a gentle breeze whispered against their skin like silk. Eric felt his conviction oddly fortified by the balmy weather as they started side by side down the pathway, a restive electricity seeming to pass between them. The moon was full that evening, a coin of iridescent silver that illuminated the unobstructed trail before them but whose light stopped short at the trees on either side of them, creating an atmosphere that was intimate rather than grim. The walk to the pier was short, but he didn’t want to wait until they reached their destination to broach the subject of their relationship; he would be fooling himself if he said he was entirely undaunted by the prospect of voicing and therefore solidifying his new receptiveness to the idea of commitment, but knew that every second he waited was cowardice on his part. He cast a sidelong glance at her and took a deep breath.

“Look, I know we’ve called what’s between us casual these past few months, but I think we’ve lied to ourselves long enough, don’t you?”

She turned to him with a look of genuine shock over what he assumed was his defiance of her assumption that she was a temporary toy to him.

“What are you saying, Eric?”

He tentatively took her hand in his, his gaze on her this time remaining steady. “I’m saying, we both know there’s something more there. Something worth pursuing. I’m saying I want us to be exclusive. I want there to be a future for us.”

Now she seemed positively aghast. A silence hung between them as they reached the ferris wheel, and he pulled her toward the steel supports that formed a rudimentary ladder along its sides. The moonlight glinted softly off of the metal, but their surroundings were mostly dark, throwing the nearby lights of Erudite into a relief that looked almost like stars, blazing brightly before they extinguished for all time. “Come to the top with me. The view will be worth it.”

He didn’t see the whirlwind of emotions that flitted across her face as he guided her to begin the climb before him, too intent on ensuring he was prepared to catch her if she slipped. They reached the top car without incident and she was again caught off-guard by his tenderness as he delicately gripped her waist when she swung first one leg and then the other into the gently swaying car. As she sat down and waited for him to join her she shook her head almost imperceptibly, attempting to clear away the momentary fog that this new Eric was perpetuating. She silently pledged to remain unflinching in her confrontation.

Instead of sitting beside her he slid sideways to the edge of the car and remained standing, looking out contemplatively at the ruins of Chicago. Bathed in the incandescent lunar glow, its eeriness, in that moment, transformed into a melancholy beauty.

“I heard you talking to Gina after you left the infirmary. I know you’re pregnant,” he whispered. “I have a responsibility now, to you and our baby. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I can promise that I’ll try. I think you want this as - “

She cut him short as she shrieked, “You what?”, causing him to start and turn to face her. Her features were twisted with what could only be described as unadulterated rage. “You brought me here to tell me that you accept that you fucked up by knocking me up, that you’ve resigned yourself to being a ‘family man,’ like you’re doing me some kind of fucking favor by staying with me? You ruined my life, Eric! No man will ever touch me again thanks to you. You don’t have a fucking clue what you did to me, do you? DO YOU?”

It happened so quickly, he didn’t even have time to scream. Her arms pistoned out and connected with his chest, and as he toppled over the edge of the swinging car, he could just make out the last words anyone would ever speak to him before he struck the pavement some 200 feet below.

“You gave me herpes, you asshole!”

***

She was numb as she clambered down the rungs of the ferris wheel, only sentient enough to wonder if her volatile emotional state that persisted throughout the day had just caused her to hallucinate what she’d just done. She then caught sight of Eric’s inert form, his limbs bent at impossible angles, a growing pool of blood matting his flawless hair. She drifted over to it, noting his grotesquely misshapen skull, but nonetheless crouched next to him and searched for a pulse. Feeling only stillness beneath her own clammy fingertips, she breathed a sigh of relief and her lips curved into a grim smile. It stayed upon her face until she reached the maintenance door they had exited from earlier unnoticed.

Those damn factionless, she would utter later that night to Gina as the whole of Dauntless raised their glasses in tribute to their fallen leader. Eric should’ve known it wasn’t safe to go wandering out into the city alone at night. Arrogant bastard.