#agony: barks at miles to mess with him

[attercopus]

around the time that kabiguru is doing things mainly for the spider-society, agony is back on earth-721 handling business in his place. her host at that time is actually jacira��� who after meeting kabiguru at one of her concerts again begins to bond with him. agony and jacira are besties; peas in a pod. kabiguru never gets a break when they are hosting together ( he likes it, he just won’t say it out loud because he’s a nerd and also because he’s a little jealous when someone bonds well with agony that isn’t just him ). when the spider squad joins together to help get miles back, he ends up joining with agony. kabiguru and agony end up getting a bit mopey when they end up accidentally scaring miles.

[bibliocratic]

I was going to write this for the Aspec Archives week, but I got overexcited, so here we are. 

AU: Mythical creatures. OG Archive team. 

Some CWs apply, see tags. 

The sea is more than water, her elder brethren taught her, warned her, chided her. It is home and harm and hungry, and you should not face it alone. Her siblings were older, ever knowing better, boisterous and boasting braver, but even they worried, scolded and fretted when she swam out too far alone into deep waters.

It will love you, but it will not always be kind, her eldest sibling bit out, snapped to mask their anxiety. There can be no bearings, in the deep-deep down, no anchors to denote where the sky lies.

When her people sleep, they rest wedged into some secure rock or crevice, tails looped around tails so no one is lost while dreaming.

You cannot be a shoal of one, my dearest, my youngest and bravest, the oldest of their shoal had said, when she told her she was planning on taking the rising when the waters warmed. Ascending landward on the tide swell, letting the shimmering scales of her tail split into skin.

She had not used the name Sasha at that time because that was a landward name she chose with care. Her folk gather names like a garland of pearls, to be constantly strung longer through life as age advances them; names for qualities, for momentous events, for hopes and desires. Her first name, gifted by her shoal, was guttural. It starts at the back of her throat, trails off into a susurration through gills. Mer is a difficult language to learn, though not impossible.

Tim tried. There is no one singular language of those who skirt the deepwaters, so he attempts to mimic her dialect. His pronunciation stumbling, he makes tentative sentences with the butchered grammar of fry. Martin’s grammar is even worse, though he picks up the eddies and waves of the sounds easier.

Jon, like most things in life, takes it as a challenge. One day, almost stubborn with nerves, to perform his task to perfection, he pushes out a juvenile approximation of her first name. Clipped and textbook and the stress in the wrong places, but Sasha smiles, showing her sharpest teeth in delight. Instructs him where to hold the hum at the back of his throat, how to roll the third phoneme upwards like an air bubble. Jon repeats it and repeats it, quietly smug and pleased at his achievement, and the sea in her soul rocks fondly at the sight.

She broached landward in the rising two moons after her age of maturation. She was one of a handful to come to shore. A sibling in Brighton who she phones every week, another two in Holyhead. Her first shoal traverses to warmer waters when the season shifts, and she would feel the rock-hollow absence of them if it was not for Tim, inviting her to participate in a hundred-and-one inane activities that keep her from feeling swept out; Jon, with his libraries of questions and intrigues, his quick-silver tongue; Martin, who sometimes swims a little further out from them but who finds her small knick-knacks in charity shops and craft markets and leaves them on her desk for no reason other than he has thought of her.

She makes three necklaces, plain with a strong chain, a single pearl attached. And on a day where her folk traditionally string garlands of seaweed and mangrove roots and colourful plants from coral reefs in a celebration of family –  there is no one word in her language for this idea; it poorly translates into hierarchies like sibling and brethren and elders, but these are not concepts that fit it exactly – she gifts them to the shoal that will anchor her in the depths of the sea, and bestows upon them names. Most Mer names are wishes for quick fins, calm waters, safe shores, and so she wishes these for them in a language they are not quite proficient in yet.

Her landward shoal is smaller than is traditional. But she loves them as treasures of her heart, and thinks she understands what her siblings told her, about anchors.

--

His parents, both harpies from local nests, are perplexed when his wings start coming in.

Must be a colouring from your mum’s side, his dad hums thoughtfully when Tim’s primaries grow in long and shining like struck bronze. He runs a careful finger down the central line of the rachis, and the wing shudders and jumps, the feathers still sensitive, and Tim complains that it’s ticklish. His wings are too small to fly away as his dad dives in, captures him in careful arms, corkscrewing upwards a little off the ground with Tim squirming and squealing and squawking in play, but they flutter and flap nonetheless.

The wing span’s from your dad’s side, no-one from my nest ever went more than five foot, his mother says, rubbing at the dark brown of his downy secondaries. Tim stretches them out wide, eager to boast at their length, the tips of his longest feathers reaching past his arms held out wide.

Danny’s wings are smaller. Magpie like, bold lines of white broken up by blue and black, the same as his parents. Tim’s wings, broader, a colour like beaten brass that tips into gold at the ends, draws attention, but he’s never been embarrassed. His family never treated him differently, so he didn’t dwell on it.

He can fly, though he doesn’t often. After his parents died, and after… after Danny, he moved to London, where there’s tighter airspace regulations and permits involved, so he mostly doesn’t bother. This doesn’t mean never, however. He has learned, while working in the Archives, that from the ground, his wings have enough lift to pick up both Jon and Sasha by at least a foot. He thinks he could probably manage Martin as well, if it wasn’t for the unfortunate fact that Martin is mildly allergic to a whole host of things, including feather dander, meaning he gets a bit watery eyed whenever he gets too close to Tim’s wings, and he’s a sniffing, red-eyed mess come  moulting season.

Anyway, he can always fly when he leaves the city. When it’s been too long since Sasha’s scales touched seawater, she invites him out to the coast. Jon apparently has had enough of the coast to last a lifetime, and Martin gets funny about large bodies of water, so it’s often the two of them. She swims out, the greenish scales of her tail catching the sun-struck water, and he, above, feeling the breeze brush through his cramped wings, follows her wake. When she breaches the surface in a playful arc, he swoops down, trying to catch her at the same time as she tries to splash him.

“You never thought to look into it?” Jon asks. Always brewing with questions. Tim is obligingly holding out one of his wings, and Jon, who takes everything like a project, has books out and webpages up but with no further clue as to why his colouration and span differ so from his parents.

Tim shrugs. “Doesn’t matter really, does it?”

Jon hums, clearly not agreeing, and Sasha rolls her eyes fondly,  and that is the end of that.

-

Marysia had hoped her child would not take after her husband. She’d lit candles and attended masses during her pregnancy, worn the beads of her rosary smooth. Her child had been born on land, miles from shore, and her husband had been a grounded man, who had folded up his pelt on their wedding night for her and swore to wear no other soul than his human one.

But then her husband leaves, the box where he kept his second soul empty, and Martin is eight years old, and he wakes up one morning glassy-eyed and complaining of nausea, his lip bleeding from where his sharpening teeth have ripped the skin, and she knows her prayers were not answered.

It is not unknown, for the second soul of some folk to flourish later. But it is a rough awakening, to have one’s body grow a new skin out of itself, and Martin is off school for over a week, riddled with fever and fervour, constantly parched, crying and sweating out salt-water.

She watches his skin prickle with grey and black fur, blotching with white over his stomach as he coils up under his covers, throws them off only for his limbs to reduce to shivering. His brown eyes have gone black-shot, his cries a mix of language and barks, and Marysia fears she will lose her only child to the sea.

It will be hard for him to fit in, she tells herself. It would be best to choose one, and he has his friends and family and her on land, and who knows where his father is now, and surely it would be cruel, an unnecessary agony for him to endure some other foreign pull away from all he knows.

She does what she thinks is a kindness, though that is neither excuse nor forgiveness. After nine days, his fur has come through, sleek and soft, his whiskers twitching, and she helps him peel it off as one would do clothes, revealing sweat-sheened limbs, his eyes slipped back into brown again. His gaze still distant and feverish, he tries to cuddle into her, and she soothes him while she finishes stripping off his pelt and folding it neatly.

While he sleeps, she burns it in a fire in the back yard.

When he comes back to himself, she lies and tells him that he’s been sick with a bad fever. And he trusts her, and never questions it. He doesn’t understand that she’s burnt a part of him up, scattered the ashes to the winds, but it was for the right reasons. To keep him safe, and happy, and with her.

He grows up human-limbed and cloven-souled, and she never tells him the truth.

--

Sasha floats in an ever-dark, stolen away and hidden. There is a knot, a cage-trap around her legs, which have fused into her tail although there is no water. The sea, far away, like the wail in a conch shell, throbs in her soul as she strains and shouts and snarls in the wrapping of spider’s webs.

The sea is the only thing with her in the dark.

Sound has a particular quality, underwater. She hears it first, an echo that shivers through her, like being thrummed on the backdraft of some shallow wave. And then it is a wash of insistence. A command.

The compulsion uses her names, landward and seaward and it pulls and demands her attention, and she shrieks and cries back, struggling in the depths. She is being called home, up up up to breach the surface, and she cannot help but answer.

There is a crack and the sea splits, and she is choking on cold and dusty air.

“Sasha!” someone is saying. “God, is she – she’s not – ?”

“Get that stuff off her, come on. Sasha. Sash, love, can you hear us?”

A series of thuds as she splutters. A twisting, gnarling screech, and several swear words.

“Jesus!”

“Shit – shit, get her out of the way.”

“Boss, move, give me the – ”

The screech degrades into a glitching, warping scream. There is the multi-layered sound of compressed air, and crackling fire,the woosh and stench of something burning.

In time, she cracks her eyes open to the punch of light. Her tail flaps weakly. Someone is pulling great strands of silk that has clumped like poorly soldered iron around her limbs, making visceral noises of disgust. She’s cold-stream shivering, surrounded by broken wood and chippings.

“Hey, hey, we got you. We got you. You with us, Sash?”

The faint scratch of feathers against her cheek. Furnace-warm arms are holding her.

Jon is kneeling down in front of her. Holding an axe and stinking of smoke, and she knows, she knows, that it was his voice she heard, although she doesn’t yet understand why.

Martin throws a blanket over her as she shivers, her tail shrivelling and bisecting into legs. He has silk in his hair, and his fingers are trembling, but his face is broken with a look of such relief.

“It’s you,” he says, and his hand touches at his throat, at the necklace she made for him. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

It’s Martin in the end that carries her out of the tunnels, tucking the blanket completely around her. He is talking in the scatter-gun way he does when he is anxious, babbling, and she can’t bring herself to listen. He smells of soot and saltwater, and she’s never noticed that before.

She falls asleep, curled up into his hold, drained and shaken, but feeling utterly safe.  

--

Jon is human. Completely, one hundred percent, although Sasha had joked once that way way back there must have been some Spinx in the family. Tim’s long suspected that Martin’s not quite human, no matter how he presents, but that’s Martin’s business, not his. Some folks have lineages that are rare, or mistrusted, or misunderstood, and Tim’s not one to pry.

Jon, though. Human through and through. Which is why he’s so worried.

“I shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Jon says. Martin’s with Sasha, making sure there’s no nasty side effects to her imprisonment in the table. Jon’s had a face on him for a while which means he’s Worrying with a capital W, and it’s taken hours for him to untangle himself into a blustered declaration to the rest of the class, spiked with nerves. “That place, it had her. It shouldn’t have… I don’t know what I did, but I told her to leave, a-and she could. And she shouldn’t have been able to.”

“And you think that you did that?”

“I – I know I did that, Tim, I felt it, o-or. I mean, I felt something!”

“Ok, alright. Alright. Let’s, let’s calm down and look at this logically.”

Jon goes over what he said while they struggled to rescue Sasha from the deep. It was something he said, he’s sure of it, which is why he is sitting cross-legged on the floor of the main archive office space with Tim, his trousers getting dusty and his temper scraping frayed, getting increasingly frustrated when he tries recreating exactly what he did with his voice, going through questions and commands and instructions and inquiries. And while Tim answers, it’s clearly not what Jon’s looking for, and he’s rubbing the hair at the back of his head in the way he does when he’s getting increasingly frustrated and is too bull-headed to walk away.

Then Jon, rolling his eyes and seething in annoyance, asks him a throwaway question, one of many he’s been trying – what’s your favourite colour? (seriously, Jon, that’s what you’re going with?!); What did you do at the weekend? (you know what I did, you and Martin were with me!).

“Why did you join the Magnus Institute?”

They both sit, frozen and horrified as Tim’s mouth opens and his words trip over his tongue in their eagerness to leave his mouth. As his eyes grow wide and water with tears as he cannot stop speaking about Danny, about the Covent Garden circus and Joseph Grimaldi. As Jon sits, ramrod-backed and cannot stop listening, a muscle jumping in his jaw.  His expression wars between frantic and panicking and hungry.

Tim feels wrung out and hollow once he’s finished. Jon’s manic with apologies. It takes both of them a long time to calm down.

“Maybe… maybe you’re a siren or something?” Tim suggests, but Jon is shaking his head.

“It’s this place, Tim. It’s those statements, when I read them. It’s … I – I think they’re doing something to me.”

Tim looks at Jon and the light strikes off his eyes in a way that it shouldn’t on a human.

He touches Jon’s arm.

“We’ll sort this,” he promises. “We got Sasha out, didn’t we? The four of us, we can get to the bottom of this, yeah?”

Jon nods, and gives a small fragile thanks, and that’s human enough for Tim.

--

Marysia told herself she was not a bad mother. That her son was simply a hard child to love, that he had all the worst trappings of his father, his brown eyes perpetually caught with a far-away look that doesn’t know where to place its longing. But even as she sickened, and he sloughed off every facet of himself in a pathetic attempt to please her, she couldn’t find anything but sorrow in her heart to look upon the man grown over familiar in face, a growth that grew deep-set and fungal into contempt.

She almost spat the truth out to him. Once or twice, with the thought that confessing might bring them closer. She wished he’d chosen the sea instead, so she wouldn’t have to look upon her amputated, half-formed child who would always be lost.

But she never did.

And Martin finds out alone, cornered in an unlocked office, his hands dropping the lighter as a thousand eyes open and watch satisfied as they pour his mother’s choices down his throat to choke him.

--

It starts when Martin starts sleeping in archive storage. When Tim watches worms burrow into Jon’s skin at the same time as they latch and gnaw and wriggle under his own. When they get Sasha back, and find Gertrude’s corpse and Jon leaves and gets hurt and hurt and hurt again, and the world around them gets smaller and meaner and there is nothing Tim can do.

He takes to storing food in their desk drawers. Nothing that will go off, or won’t keep. Tins and dried goods and non-perishables. He lines the walls of Martin’s storage room with fire extinguishers of different types, fire blankets, and spare first aid kits bulging with plasters and bandages and antiseptic wipes. He buys blankets and pillows and rope and penknives. He stress-moults constantly, and tucks his feathers out of sight, irritated and embarrassed at the sight of them,  and it occurs to him that nesting is not a healthy way to deal with this.

He wants his family safe. He used to think it was such a small thing to ask for.

He thinks about that when the bomb goes off.

He burns, and he is dying.

His rage and fear burn off into a different fury. That it has come to this, his family so threatened, that all he has to his name is his sorrow and trauma and frustration and vengeance.

Tim wants nothing more than to live. To see them safe. To rail and rage against what seeks to harm them. So he burns and he burns and burns, his wings aflame and his mouth twisted in a scream, and does not die.

They dig him out breathing from the rubble. His skin stained grey with ash and soot.

His new wings stretch out red as the sunset.

[sokkasangel]

choices

»»——— bucky barnes x reader

summary: a villain who disagrees with bucky being put on the avengers team takes something near + dear to the super soldier...

word count: 3k

warnings: violence + swearing, guns, mentions of stalking & intrusive thoughts, & of course lots of angst

a/n: there will not be a second part to this fic! i’m sorry if that disappoints you, but this is meant to be angsty. also, i am trying to get to requests as fast as possible! i promise!

»»——— masterlist

how dare they let a evil killing machine on the team... do they even realize what kind of mistake they are making?! perhaps he’s brainwashed them, forced them into it.

don’t worry, avengers. i’ll save you...

༅ ~

for the past two weeks, you had felt a pair of eyes on you. everywhere you went, the feeling of being watched hung over you like a cloud. even walking into the avengers tower felt like an ordeal, like the paparazzi were nearby.

eventually, you thought it might not be just a feeling. you started to feel uneasy & unsafe. so you told your teammates. a few told you to shrug it off; maybe a fan was too afraid to ask for an autograph or picture. but your best friend & boyfriend knew better.

natasha was the first you had told. on the first day of this extravaganza, you mentioned your gut feeling to your friend over a glass of wine. she had guessed it was a fan, like steve & tony suggested. but once this reached the seven day point, she wondered if it was safe for you to go out alone.

sure, you were a kickass spy who worked with the avengers. but you knew your limits. & if this wasn’t just a little kid, you could be up against multiple opponents. you were strong & agile, but in a situation like that, you’d need backup.

after the first week, you decided it was time to let your boyfriend know. you wondered if it was even a good idea, telling him. he’d always been paranoid about this kind of thing. would this just pointlessly worry him?

you pushed that aside; however, because you were starting to get seriously creeped out. someone watching your every move?! who’d want to see what kind of vegetable you picked up from the grocery store, or what route you had taken to your favorite bakery?

so one day after work, after the heros retired to their separate floors, you approached your boyfriend. he complained about his exhausting day, making you doubt your decision once again.

yet, once again, you pushed past it. he needed to know. & you told him plain & simple: “i think i’m being watched & followed.”

after that little sentence, the super soldier unleashed all his feelings. his built up anger & fear & sadness & stress all jumbled together in one collective “WHAT?!”.

since you two had started dating, bucky tried to be vocal about his insecurities & worries about the both of you being heros, but it was hard for him. he didn’t want to nag you about being safe because it annoyed you, even though you knew he thought you were capable.

after you told him, he demanded that a bodyguard would be posted right by your side. at all times. forcefully, you refused. sure, you wanted to stay safe. but you didn’t want a babysitter.

but in this situation, bucky’s worries shadowed your freedom. besides, you could still do everything you wanted. it’s just that you had a six foot, buff man walking next to you. it was like having a quieter, balder bucky.

so your life had changed slightly. instead of that feeling of being watched, you had a babysitter & that overwhelming feeling.

that feeling was gut-renching at times. was some creep taking pictures of you? or were some villains planning something? were they planning a kidnapping?

it all messed with you. it congealed into anxiety, & that sat in your stomach like a stone.

༅~

we’re almost there, dear avengers.

soon you’ll be safe from him.

& i’m sorry dear, y/n. you shouldn’t have to be in the middle of this. but he’s forced you to work with him & be with him.

it’s all gone too far.

but it’ll be over soon...

༅~

“you sure you want to go out now?” natasha asked as you threw on your jacket. “it’s pouring outside.”

“yeah, i need to get out. it’s been a few days.” you smiled & moved to slip on your boots. “plus, i wanna smell the rain.”

after seeing the worried look on natasha’s face, you reassured her that you’d have your guard with you & that you wouldn’t go far.

you meant to say bye to bucky, but he wasn’t in your bedroom or in the common area. you shrugged it off & decided it wasn’t vital. you were only going to be gone for fifteen minutes.

the air outside was crisp. for it only being september, your breath had taken the form of a tiny puff of smoke. you always loved that. sure, you were well into adulthood, but you liked pretending you were smoking.

you turned to your bodyguard — who rudely still did not tell you his name — & expected to at least smile at your childish reaction. but he just stared harshly. ouch.

you started to walk away from the tower’s entrance. your umbrella covered you, & you could hear the guard’s footsteps behind you. always one step behind.

you walked past a few businesses & shops. you were just going to reach the nearest intersection then turn around. about halfway through your path, a large alleyway separated the groups of buildings.

when you reached it, you didn’t notice but your bodyguard had been practically sucked up by the alley & it’s darkness. his footsteps had stopped, but you were paying attention to the cars & pattering of raindrops.

“it’s nice outside, huh?” you asked. a few moments had gone by without response. “you could at least resp-“

when you turned to give the large man a smug face, all you saw was an empty sidewalk. looking around, you actually noticed that no one was out. this was strange; no matter the weather, there was usually at least one other person out walking.

“guard? hello~ mr. bodyguard?”

you backtracked to the alley. maybe he found something?

when you peeked from behind the building’s corner, you saw two large men in suits standing over your guard, who had obviously taken a beating. his face was already bleeding & turning blue. he had a scarf around his mouth & handcuffs on.

a particularly tall, skinny man stood away from them. he had a lighter suit than the pair & laughed at the guard on the ground. but after his chuckle, you could hear the faintest apology.

almost as if he sensed your presence, he spoke as your neared the entrance of the alley.

“hello, y/n. again i am so sorry for what’s about to happen.”

before you could respond in any way, you felt hands all over you, restraining any movement. this wasn’t like you. normally, you had fast reflexes. but now you were at the mercy of two men.

maybe it was seeing someone bigger than you struggle against them. or maybe it was the tall man. either way, you were now trapped. & you finally knew what that overwhelming feeling alluded to.

༅~

natasha watched the clock while you were gone. even before these past two week, she had always watched over you in that sense. she never had such a close friend before, & she’d be damned before she let anything happen to you.

so now more than ever, she watched you like a hawk. she counted the minutes as soon as you walked out that door.

fifteen minutes had passed about thirty minutes ago. she planned to just stay put, knowing you’d chew her a new one if she called asking about you.

but this was agony.

she had to do something. so she called bucky, asking if you had come back. he replied saying he didn’t even know you were gone. so now the two closest people to you were now panicking.

bucky yelled for f.r.i.d.a.y. to check your location. she told him your last location was 0.8 miles away from the tower about 30 minutes ago. over the intercom, she said she couldn’t track you anymore.

bucky started to scream about how he knew you shouldn’t have gone out, & how he should have kept a closer eye on you.

everything was getting out of control already.

so bucky set out for tony & steve, with natasha right behind. he’d do anything at this point, before he even knew what was happening. he was supposed to be the one protecting you. he shouldn’t have ever let something like this happen.

“we have to find her. now.”

༅~

“again, i’m deeply sorry for this intrusion, y/n.”

this was the first thing you heard as you awoke.

blinking profusely, you tried to gather yourself. your head pounded, & your joints felt so soar. still, you forced yourself awake. looking around you saw that you were in a dingy room with bright lights. the smell of cigarettes encapsulated the space.

yep, you were definitely kidnapped.

you recalled everything before this point. taking a walk, your bodyguard, the alleyway, the two suited men, being tied up, being knocked out...

you swiped your tongue over your teeth, making sure they hadn’t punched you that hard. luckily, you still had all your teeth.

“i’m not going to seriously hurt you, y/n.” the man spoke again. “unless he doesn’t compromise, that is.”

“wh- wait. who? who’s ‘he’? wait, wait. where’s my bodyguard? what’d you do to him?” you wiggled in your seat. you felt your calves scratch against the legs of the chair. your hands were tied to the arms, so you could see the marks on your wrist. they were bright red.

“he’ll be fine.” the man, who had been standing in front of you, took a step closer. “he might not want a hero life anymore, but he’ll be okay.”

“who- who are you? & who’s ‘he’?” you barked. the feeling of peace from hearing the guard was okay was short-lived. now adrenaline coursed through your body.

“well, if i told you my name, it’d all be over,” he chuckled through his scratchy voice. “on the other hand, ‘he’ is who you call “baby”.”

“b-bucky? what do you- what does this have to do with bucky?” you wrestled with yourself in the chair again, making your wrists burn.

“the winter soldier has everything to do with this.” the man started to pace about the room. “he’s the whole reason you are here.”

you stopped moving.

bucky? how is he the reason? he didn’t put you here, did he?

“i see the look on your face, & don’t worry. the winter soldier is not behind this. i am.” he pulled a chair from the side of the room & dragged it in front of you. he sat on it backwards, straddling the chair. “now, i’ll explain before he gets here- oh, that reminds me.”

the suited man reached into his coat pocket. he pulled out a pistol. panic surged through your body. this wasn’t the end was it? you couldn’t die here. it was too dim, too awful...

“oh, wait. that’s not right. that’s for later... maybe.”

he reached over & set it on the nearby desk, where the chair came from. he dug around in his other pockets before finally pulling out a device. it was the size of a phone, but wires & cards were sticking out of each end.

“this... this will give our location to the soldier.” he waved it in front of his face.

he was pale, & his eyes were bloodshot. other than that, he looked kept-together. almost handsome.

“you want him here?” w

hat kind of kidnapping was this? the napper wants people to know where he is?

“yes, like i said before: he is the sole reason for all of this.” the pad of his finger pressed a button on the device. “now, as we wait. let me tell you about my operation.”

༅~

ding! ding!

“james buchanan barnes,” f.r.i.d.a.y. chimed in over the team’s voices. “i just got a location alert. it is y/n’s location, sir.”

the team, who had been brainstorming for the past hour, shot up. most of them scrambled for their clothes, wanting to set out immediately. others, just scrambled in general, not having a plan.

bucky had rushed out of the room as fast as possible. your location had been sent to his phone. he sprinted to the garage & hopped on his bike, ignoring steve’s shouts. as fast as humanly possible, he sped down the road, following directions to you.

he wanted to cry & yell. he was so stupid to think he could keep the both of you safe. this relationship was wonderful, but it was dangerous. why’d he have to fall in love with a spy?

༅~

maybe it was because he was going 30 over the speed limit, but bucky couldn’t believe how fast he got to you — or rather where you were.

he arrived at a shack behind a boarded up shop. the door was locked, but he had no problem kicking it down. when he busted through, he noticed how small it was. a desk & two chairs filled the space. & in those chairs were you & a man.

“why, it’s the winter soldier.” the man stood with open arms. “perfect timing, i should say. i just finished my speech.”

almost immediately, bucky swung at the man. but he missed. the man sped past him & made his way toward you. on his way over, he snatched the pistol, which had been resting on the crumbling desk.

he held it to your temple, waiting for bucky to turn around.

when he finally did, he stopped. he even stopped breathing. he was too scared to move. he didn’t dare blink.

suddenly, two other figures entered the room. they were quite tall & the seams of their suits almost busted as they flexed. each of their arms rested on each of bucky’s shoulders, keeping him in place.

“now, i told dear y/n not to make a sound during this whole thing.”

bucky looked down at you. you had been silently weeping the whole time. tears stained your cheeks. your face was blotchy, & bucky felt a pang in his chest. the man had told you before that if you made any type of sound, he’d shoot bucky & then you.

“y/n...” bucky called out softly.

“enough!” the man’s voice carried out. it was piercing, almost. “you don’t need to manipulate her anymore.”

“manip- what the hell are you talking about?!”

“well, of course we all know the tale of the winter soldier. the notorious super soldier who kills for fun.” he waited for a response but got nothing. his smirk faltered. “the man who found a way to nestle himself in the minds of the avengers & force his way into the team. you’ve corrupted them, winter soldier. & it’s disgusting.”

“what are you talking about?” bucky’s voice was low & stern. he was beyond angry; steam was practically billowing out of his ears.

“i’ve brought you here to stop it.”

he waved the gun about, but the barrel always pointed toward you.

you started to shake. the years of training now left you. fear took over. you couldn’t breathe properly, let alone fight. it was terrifying.

usually, you were fighting for people you didn’t know. somehow that was easier than this. now, you were at the mercy of someone who hated you for who you loved & trusted, someone who wanted the love of you life dead.

“how are you going to end it?” bucky lunged forward, but the pair behind him held him back.

“well, you can surrender to me. which, of course means leaving your life behind & letting me destroy you.” he paused, allowing each word to sink in. “or... i kill your lover, & then you surrender.”

bucky knew his friends were on his trail. he could stall, but would it work? if this psycho heard them from here, would he just shoot you then & there?

“& i know your posse is right behind you, soldat. i’m not stupid.”

the men’s hands hardened, putting more pressure on bucky’s shoulders.

“you have one minute to make a decision.”

59 seconds...

he didn’t want to hurt you. that’s the last thing he wanted.

50...

but would surrendering be the right move?

45 seconds...

you had always told him it would crush you if he died.

40 seconds...

& it would absolutely destroy him if you were to leave.

30...

if he waits too long, you’ll both die anyways.

25...

surrendering would hurt you, but it’s better than you dying.

but would you rather die than be without him?

15 seconds...

tears pooled in his eyes. he stared at you, longing for one more kiss, one more hug, one more word from you.

8...

so what should he do? would this man be as merciful as to let you say goodbye?

5...

bucky always said he wanted to leave this earth. but he didn’t mean now. not now when he had you, & steve, & the team.

3 seconds...

he’s made so much progress. was all this for nothing? his legacy was to die at the hands of a psychopath who knew nothing about the man he is today?

1...

bang!

a bullet was shot. the noise echoed through the tiny space. everyone flinched. bucky could not tell if it came from the man or behind him. he couldn’t tell if you were alive or dead...

[leuiesroom]

      The most important part of leaving the cooler was the ride home. It was about 4 hours from the Oklahoma State Reformatory out in Granite back to Tulsa, Curly didn’t know why they didn’t send him somewhere closer to home, but he didn’t complain. The rides home after Tim picked him up were always the best. See, Tim wouldn’t say he missed Curly, that ain’t tough speakin like that, but he does miss his kid brother when he ain’t around, so the 8 hour drive is worth it to him, sure gas costs a shit ton, but he always takes Curly out to lunch after picking him up, get some real food in that boys system, not that cooler crap they served in slop dishes. And he gets to talk to him- that’s Curly’s favorite part, gettin caught up on all’t happened without him. (Gossip might be a chick thing, but it’s important to know who whipped who and who’s going with who and who got arrested for what in his absence.)

     It was real crushing being told he wouldn’t be picked up right away, “gotta wait another day kid”, the guard had said. A whole nother day...Tim was never late, not for him, or Angela neither, that isn’t how it is, you don’t just leave your guys in jail any longer than you gotta. It straight ain’t fair to ‘em. 

     Curly was waiting in the lobby, bag packed with his personal clothes on waiting for Tim when he arrived to sign him out. He was broody, walking Curly out to the car, didn’t say hello or nothing when he arrived. Tipping Curly off something was wrong.      “You didn’t come.” It was point blank, accusatory, he’d better have had a real good reason for abandoning curly like that. Tim’s knuckled were white on the steering wheel, he hadn’t even turned the key yet, they just sat in the parking lot. He wouldn’t look at Curly, he just stared straight ahead, like he was driving or somethin, only he wasn’t.      “You hungry?” Tims voice was summat quieter than Curly could remember, not soft exactly, but it was almost gentle. Tim Shepard was never gentle, and his voice wasn’t gentle unless something was really wrong. None of the Shepard’s voices were- you could hear them a mile away with their nasally yells and high, barking laughter, like a hyena.      “Why didn’t you come?” Curly was scared. Last time he’d heard Tim like this was after the fight with the Tiber Street Tigers. It should have been just chains, nothing rough, but someone cracked a bottle over one of Tim’s guys head and he dropped. It was real sudden and bloody. This was the voice Tim used to comfort his guys when something went wrong, when they were dying.      “Tim, why weren’t you here yesterday?”      “There was a funeral.” A funeral.      “Who’s?” Curly’s voice cracked, if Tim missed his release it had to be someone important, “..-Angel-” “No!” Tim barked, “Don’t even talk like that Curly.” He was serious too.

     “It’s a long story.” Tim said as he started the engine and pulled out onto the street, Curly was quiet.      “You know that Curtis kid you hang out with?” Curly nodded     “Ponyboy, yeah?” Was it him? Fuck he was young... Tim blew through a red light, pulling onto I-40 E. (Curly knew the roads home by heart now. He knew the interstate system real well too, only thing he was good at in school was geography. He could tell you the capital of every state real well- but that was besides the point right then.)     Tim’s silence was scary, and looking at him Curly noticed what he hadn’t before: He looked like hell. bags under his eyes, he looked older too, with greasy hair, and not the tuff slicked back kind neither, real greasy- like he hadn’t showered.     “Tim what happened?”     “He and his friend killed a soc.”     Curly paused, confused. Why was Tim making such a big deal about some bourgeoisie asshole in training from the other side of town?     “That’s it?” He was incredulous,     “No...” Tim swallowed, his eyes looked glassy. Tough as nails Tim was on the verge of tears. “It ain’t really my story to tell, but after he and Cade killed him they ran away. They hid out in one of Dallas’s old spots.” Tim and Curly were the only people who got to call him Dallas, it was somethin’ special. Dal and Tim had been friends longer’n anyone. Even the Curtis’s. “I guess the hole they had burned down, something about little kids, I don’t fucking know.” He took a deep breath, “Those dumbasses ran right in y’know. I don’t know what it is with those boys and always having to be a hero. You know if you’re ever in a situation you don’t go in- you let someone else do it, or let those kids burn. They got themselves into it anyway, it ain’t your problem. What is your problem is keeping your fool self alive,” The for me was unspoken. Tim had been through more than he should have been, tough streets aren’t any place for a child, it was an unspoken fact in the Shepard household that Curly and Angela were his lifeline. He provided them a place to live, and food, and they provided him a purpose. “They died? That’s what your torn up about?” “No, well. yes. Its more complicated than that. The Cade kid died,” Tim didn’t need to say why he upset for that. Everyone knew Johnny, it’s an unspoken rule in a lot of greaser gangs, but you just don’t hurt a kid like that. He gone through to much, much to young, he was burdened with pain when he should be having fun.      “What about Pony?” Curly was surprised how scared he was for the youngest Curtis, sure’d been friends, but he felt his heart pounding with panic, “What about Ponyboy?!” He yelled after Tim didn’t answer. “What about him-” Tim spat, bitterness lacing his voice, “It’s his fucking fault. Too damn immature to take a hit when he deserves it- gotta run away and get Johnny and Dally into this mess.” Tim was shouting, he was speeding too- a danger of being passionate while you drive, but neither of the boys noticed. (Nor would they have cared.)       “Dallas...?” Tim swerved onto the side of the road, stopping and just slammed on the horn and yelled a little bit. “Tim stop it!” Curly had never seen him so broken up about anything before, “Tim!” He calmed down as quickly as he’d sparked up, and when he wasn’t angry he just looked dead...and sad. He had tear tracks on his face.       “Dallas is dead, Curly.” Three words, four if you count his name, and the world just stopped. Tim pounded his palms against the steering window for a moment, agony obvious,  “He-” His voice broke and he just stopped, quiet and scary as he ever was. Cool as day, if it weren’t for the redness of his eyes, and wetness of his cheeks. But Curly didn’t hear him, his blood was pounding in his ears, so loud he could feel it, and his ribs were breaking.

     ‘Oh god,’ He though, ‘I can’t breathe.’ He pushed the car door open and slid out onto the side of the road, on his hands and knees. (He was almost glad, after, that the reformatory was so far from home, so no one saw him break down.) Bile rose, hot, in his throat, and he just threw up. Right there, underneath some fucking billboard advertisement, good old Dallas was gone.     Tim waited silently in the car, letting Curly sit there until he could breathe again, or think, or move, or whatever it was he wasn’t doing. When Curly stood up finally Tim gave him a hand, pulling him into his seat. It was a little slimy, a combo of the shoulders dirt, and Curly’s upchuck. He just wiped it on his jeans, he’d almost thrown up when he heard too.      It wasn’t like this wasn’t expected, everyone knew Dallas would die young, but Tim guessed they’d all assumed he’d make it out of his teens. At the very least. That boy had been like a brother to him. He appreciated Dal more than he ever let on, he knew when he went out on benders it was Dallas who dropped food off on the porch to keep Curly and Angela fed. Not that they couldn’t fend for themselves, but the two of them, tough as they were, didn’t think kids should have too. Or at least Tim didn’t, and Dal didn’t argue with Tim. 

     “How’d it happen?” He was broken out of his reminicence by Curly, his voice sounded so childish in that moment, broken and young.      “How do you figure it happened kid? Same way we all knew it would.” It was so violent...Tim didn’t want to even say it, but he had to tell Curly summat and better he hear from him than someone else. “Shot.” He said, “Cops,” He could barely manage full sentences, “suicide.” Curly nodded, he got the picture, he still looked sick, “If you’re gonna puke again roll down the window,” Tim said. Curly rolled down the window, but he didn’t puke or anything, he just stared.

     “How many times?” Tim had asked that too,      “14.”      “Holy shit....” Curly rubbed the side of his neck, just under his jaw. He had a hand drawn tattoo there, from Dally actually. 1312, in his handwriting. How fitting, “Bastards.” He murmured and Tim agreed.      “All of ‘em. Bloody fucking bastards.”

[mando-chicken]

War Dogs | Clones and Their Cats

“Hardcase has come up with a flawless plan to get their brother a gift. Kix isn’t so certain that it’ll be a good idea. Jesse just wants to see what sort of chaos he can encourage Hardcase to create.”

A fic focusing on our boys in the 501st in the ‘Clones and Their Cats’ universe. The basis is literally just what it says on the tin - some of the clones have cats (and some other pets too) - all these fics will largely focus on the clones and their animal companions. Not all chapters/works are in chronological order, this one is set just after the Citadel.

Other works in the series:

Cat Sitter

Tiny Spots

Read on AO3

Tag List:

@cxptain-rex​ @spaghetti-666​

“I still think this is a terrible idea.” Kix was doing his best to soothe the headache that was already threatening to rear its ugly head by massaging his temples, but the very thought of what Hardcase was suggesting was utter madness and would undoubtedly end in nothing but more stress for the already overtired medic. The fact that Jesse was actually agreeing with Hardcase’s mad scheme certainly wasn’t helping either.  

 Hardcase simply chuckled at his brother’s plight, grinning from ear to ear like his plan couldn’t possibly backfire and get all three of them into some serious trouble. “Ah c’mon Kix, you said it yourself, the poor guy is barely eating, won’t speak to anyone, and only sleeps when he drops from exhaustion,” the heavy gunner reminded him, his smile faltering slightly for the briefest of moments, “if he won’t let any of us in to help then maybe this little fella can help where we can’t.”  

 “Y’know, ‘Case does have a point. It’d take his mind off what happened for a little while at the very least, and you were the one to bring up the topic.” Jesse simply placed a hand on Kix’s shoulder, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile, before leaning back into the waiting room chair.  

 Kix merely subjected his brother to a harsh stare, crossing his arms with a huff, “all I said was that animals were good for lowering stress, I never said that we should up and get one on a whim.” He was glad that the vet clinic was otherwise unoccupied – they'd thankfully chosen a quiet day when there were neither clients nor vode coming and going – he only pitied the receptionist who had been subjected to almost an hour of their back and forth arguments. Before he could continue to counter his brothers’ madness, the door to the adoption section of the clinic slid open, one of the resident veterinarians stepping through accompanied by a medium sized crate.  

 Hardcase leapt to his feet, energy radiating off him as he beamed up at the vet, “Is it all done? Is he ours?” 

 Dalthic simply laughed good-naturedly at his enthusiasm, holding out the crate for him, “He’s officially been registered to you,” she confirmed as the clone gingerly took the crate from her arms, “I know you said he was a gift for one of your brothers, and he doesn’t have a name yet, so feel free to drop in again soon and I’ll update his details for you.” 

 Hardcase seemed just about ready to run for the door and sprint back to the barracks, but Kix managed to keep a hold of him long enough for Jesse to confirm a few last questions. “You did it discreetly, yeah?” he asked, unable to stop his brow from crinkling slightly.  

 The doctor nodded, her expression becoming serious, “Of course, I’m well aware of the potential risks you’ll face if the GAR find out that he belongs to you, I’ve taken care of the details so that nothing can reveal that he is registered to clones, it just shows up like any other patient file.” She waited until they all breathed a collective sigh of relief before continuing, “however, we’ve only been able to adopt out Tookas to you boys since they can easily be hidden; this guy will not be quite so easy to hide, so if you do have any dramas feel free to bring him back and I’ll see if we can arrange something else.” 

 Kix knew that Dalthic was a friend to clones, he’d heard plenty of stories of her helping brothers adopt pets under the table, and she’d even helped Denal to adopt Torrent, the sweet kitten in the barracks next door to theirs, but it was reassuring to have her confirm it in person. “That’s great to hear, we’ll make sure he’s taken care of, ma’am.” 

 Apparently, that was as much talk as Hardcase could stomach, eager to get back with the newest member of their squad as he already began walking towards the door, “thanks again, Doc!” he shouted back, his signature grin firmly back in its rightful place.  She offered him a brief wave and then he was gone, already out into the bustling streets of Coruscant. Jesse tried to offer an apologetic smile on behalf of their rather excited brother, but the vet simply waved him off with a genuine smile of her own. “I’ll see you boys later,” she hummed, offering Kix and Jesse a nod in farewell.  

 The two brothers were quick to go after Hardcase, managing to weave their way through the lunchtime crowds with little difficulty. They caught up with him soon enough, and from there it was only a short walk back to base. With it being noon, most of their brothers were already in the mess, so there wasn’t anyone to stop them or to question the strange crate one of them was carrying through the barracks and soon enough they reached their destination.  

 It had been almost two weeks since the Citadel and Fives was not doing well. He had survived and managed to escape, yet it felt as though his very heart and soul had been abandoned on the platform alongside his missing batcher.  

 He hadn’t cried. There’d been no time for him to actually let down his guard enough to process what had happened until they had been safely whisked from the planet’s surface, and then he’d been swarmed by brothers trying to offer their support. They wanted to do right by him, to keep him surrounded by caring people at all times, yet he’d never found himself feeling lonelier. In truth he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop feeling lonely. 

 The numbness was better than the agony that twisted through his chest every time he so much as glanced at Echo’s empty bunk. It was better than having his emotions raw and spilling over the threshold where the Captain and the rest of his vode could see it. It was better than accepting that his brother was no longer by his side where he’d promised to always be.  

 He was tempted to ignore the knocking someone was doing on the outside of the barracks. All of the other brothers were either training or in the mess hall, so whoever was knocking was obviously looking for him. Knowing that they’d likely just try and track him down later, Fives shouted for whoever was seeking access to enter, not bothering to glance up from the datapad he was looking over – and by looking over he meant staring mindlessly at the display while he allowed his thoughts to run rampant – he was, however, snapped from his trance when he heard something heavy being placed on the floor.  

 Rolling over onto his side, Fives regarded the three brothers who’d entered the barracks, taking note of their rather sheepish expressions. Hardcase was clearly anxious or excited about something, Jesse kept glancing between the aforementioned brother and Fives, and Kix looked as though he was half a second away from snapping at the other two troopers, or perhaps slapping them both upside the head.  

 “Well, are you going to tell him or not?” Kix crossed his arms over his chest, assuming his ‘irritated medic’ stance, which was usually enough to send most men running for the hills, “you geniuses came up with it, I’m not going to be dragged into it with you.”  

 Fives simply rose a questioning eyebrow while Jesse spluttered out an indignant sound, “Excuse me? This was Hardcase’s idea, I just encouraged him.”  

 Kix looked just about ready to argue the statement, but Fives was able to stop him from going any further by raising a hand. He’d already pulled himself up into a sitting position, allowing his legs to dangle freely from the edge of his bed as he frowned up at the three brothers gathered before him, “what do you guys need to tell me?” Hardcase was grinning and Fives was briefly worried by what sort of mania his brother had in store.  

 “Well, I saw something the other day and we-” Kix shot Hardcase a foul look, “I, thought you’d like to have it.” he finished, fingers itching to get on with it. When Fives didn’t say anything further, he continued, “but you need to, uh, close your eyes.” 

 Fives’ frown only deepened, he really wasn’t in the mood for any surprises – he was tired and just wanted to be left to himself – but he knew better than to try and argue with a brother as stubborn as Hardcase once he’d set his mind on something, and closed his eyes, albeit with a slightly defeated sigh. He heard the sound of the crate being opened, followed by something scrabbling against the smooth floor for purchase.  

 “Okay, okay, hold out your hands,” he could hear the energy in the other clone’s voice, followed slightly by a poorly concealed chuckle, probably from Jesse.  

 He held out his hands as instructed, suddenly wishing he’d been wearing his gloves, just in case. But to his surprise, what his hands met was warm and soft, and Fives suddenly jerked, eyes snapping open when he felt the thing move. “What the kriff–” looking up at him, whole body squirming with uncontained energy and excitement, was a small Ring Dog, and not just any dog, but a puppy. It was wriggling about, its rear end swaying from side to side from where Fives held it, dangling in mid-air as its tail wagged at about a mile a minute.  

 “Hardcase, where the hell did you find a puppy?” the ARC trooper near enough choked out, still reeling at the thought that his brothers had somehow not only managed to find a dog, but somehow also sneak it into the barracks. At his words the puppy made a soft bark, only growing more excited when Fives looked away from the other trooper and back at it again.  

 Hardcase himself looked to be absolutely beaming yet again, pleased that Fives had asked, “well, you see, I was out with Jesse and Kix the other day at Seventy Nine’s and we overheard one of the Guards talking about his pet Tooka, and that reminded me of Denal and how he has Torrent, and how happy she makes him, and then Kix mentioned something about pets helping to lower blood pressure, and then—”  

 “We adopted him from the vet clinic a little ways down from the Guard base.” Jesse suddenly said, cutting off whatever lengthy rambling Hardcase was about to spiral into, much to the aforementioned clone’s disappointment if his expression was any indicator. Fortunately, Jesse didn’t seem to be too worried by the glare being pointedly levelled at him.  

 “Yeah!” Hardcase quickly continued, “we thought that maybe ya could do with some company.” The longer Fives actually stared at Hardcase, the more he could see that, while excited, the trooper was rather nervous, his fingers twitching restlessly at his sides. Clearly, he was worried about what Fives would think of their ‘gift’, but before he could speak up Jesse once again chimed in.  

 “But hey, we’ve already disturbed you enough, we’ll just leave you to it.” Neither Kix nor Hardcase were able to argue, for Jesse grabbed both of their arms and began hastily dragging them out of the room.  

 Fives blanched for a moment, looking between his retreating brothers and the puppy still swaying in his hold, “wait, ‘Case, Jesse, what am I supposed to do with this thi—” he was cut off by the door to his quarters being abruptly closed as the other three clones made their escape. Still slightly stunned, it took him a moment to finally come back to his senses, gently placing the puppy down on the floor. Immediately it began to sniff at his feet and legs, occasionally making a pleased huffing noise, before looking back up at the ARC trooper with its big brown eyes.  

 The puppy just about reached Fives’ knees when stood, covered in a thin, oak-coloured fur, with several rings of chocolate brown wrapping around its legs and tail. A small blue collar hung around its neck, and Fives was quick to reach out and inspect it, turning it around in his hands to try and find if it had a name on its tag.  

 Finding no tag he was forced to assume that the dog had yet to be given a name. He recalled that Jesse and Hardcase had called it a ‘he’, and with a quick glance underneath the happy pup, he could confirm that it was indeed a male. He still had no idea if he’d be keeping the animal – clones weren’t exactly the sort of people who could keep pets – but he couldn’t just leave the poor thing nameless, regardless of whether he would be keeping it or not. He would have to speak to Echo, he had always been better at picking names than— 

 His face fell as a quiet voice inside reminded him that no, he wouldn’t be receiving any help from Echo. Not now, and not ever again.  

 With a sigh Fives dropped back onto his bunk, staring up at the bunk above as his thoughts quickly began to sink their talons into his mind, dragging him down into the deep abyss. He had no one to help him, Echo wasn’t there to grab his hand and pull him from drowning in the pitch-black waters of his inner thoughts. But someone else was.  

 Fives was jerked from his trance-like state by a cold nose nudging at his hand, followed briefly by several slobbery licks to his fingers when he still didn’t respond. He looked down to the puppy, meeting its eyes and watching as its expression exploded into joy the moment he did so, tail already back to wagging at its ridiculous speed.  

 “What can I do for you, dog?” he asked quietly, moving to run his fingers over the puppy’s head. The dog simply offered him a bark, attempting to lick his hand the moment he stopped his petting motions. “Why don’t you come up here?” Fives asked, patting at the top of the mattress to try and encourage it to join him. The moment he stopped the Ring Dog did just as he was asked, springing from the floor and landing on the bunk beside the clone, already shoving his head under Fives’ arms and trying to reach the ARC’s face to give him a good licking.  

 Fives wasn’t able to stop the laugh that suddenly escaped him, trying in vain to try and swat away the determined pup and save his face from slobber. A single lick to his chin was the closest the dog got, but he seemed to be satisfied with his efforts, plopping down on Fives’ chest and huffing in his face. “Stars, your breath stinks, dog,” he groaned, scrunching up his nose and trying to turn away. The dog merely wagged his tail again.  

 “You think that’s funny?” The dog simply wagged his tail faster. He had only a moment to brace himself before the puppy launched at him again, this time trying to lick at Fives’ ears. And for a long, blissful moment, the mourning ARC trooper is rendered a laughing, happy child.  

 The next morning, Rex is more than relieved to see Fives wandering around the base. He’s still not interacting with his brothers as much as usual, still a little withdrawn from his surrounds, but he’s not completely closed himself off, and for that, the Captain is willing to overlook the small puppy following around at Fives’ heels. If continuing to pretend he is completely oblivious to the animals ‘stealthily’ being acquired by members of the 501st means that his men have the chance to actually heal and have some sort of joy in their depressing lives, then it’s something he would happily do a thousand times over.  

[missbrightsky]

On My Honor

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 8: Feyre

“This morning you will be running five miles, keep up.” That was all the warning we got before the lieutenant took off, leaving us to scramble after his disappearing back.

Even going to bed at a decent time last night, the first bell of the morning was a ridiculously early time to wake up. Stumbling and bleary-eyed, we gathered in a small clearing near the tents. Tamlin looked unfairly awake and ready to run us into the ground.

And one hour later he had done just that. The first mile: a rude wake-up call. The second two: a small taste of agony. The last two: the beginning of hell on earth. Tamlin set a brutal pace the entire time. By the end, he looked barely winded while the rest of us were heaving up the remains of last night’s dinner. Alex had fared no better than me, both of us doubled over with our hands braced on our shaking knees. Elijah, however, had managed to keep up a small stream of chatter the entire time, and though he was sweating and panting, he looked like he could go another five.

I sucked in as much humid morning air I could, the sun that was hiding behind the horizon had finally started its ascent, burning away the protective mist. Alex let out a groan beside me, his stomach clenching.

“If… you… puke… on… me…” each word was a gasp between breaths, “You’re… sleeping… outside.”

A rasping chuckle escaped his throat and thank the gods he managed to turn away before spitting up a vile liquid. My muscles burned like they never had before, my lungs felt as though someone had taken a dagger to them.

“Follow me,” were the only words Tamlin deigned to say to his whelps. He strode away, aiming for a large wooden structure, the only permanent building of the camp. Despite the still early hour, the sound of metal striking met my ears. The camp armory. Tamlin ducked inside a shed attached to the side and emerged dragging a crate. All of us limped up (except Elijah, damn him) and formed a loose semi-circle around him.

“Take a sword and pair up.”

Alex and I gave each other a small nod before grabbing a wooden sword each. We distanced ourselves slightly from the group, looking to Tamlin for the next command.

Over the next hour, Tamlin ran us through the basics of swordplay. Even though the battlefield was a hellish mess, it was still important to learn the basics so that we would have a higher chance of hitting the enemy rather than ourselves, or worse, each other.

As the drills progressed, it was obvious that Tamlin was… displeased with the state of our swordplay skills. Though every word that came out his mouth was only corrections, his tone made it clear that we have a long way to go.

The sun rose higher and higher, burning stronger with each minute. More and more sweat poured off my body, off all of our bodies. Some had stripped off their shirts, favoring the cool breeze over what little protection their clothes offered them from their partner’s blows. For obvious reasons, I kept my shirt on.

When Tamlin finally called for a halt, even Elijah finally looked winded. I could barely raise my arms anymore, wincing with pain from the blows Alex had landed. At least I had the satisfaction that I had gotten a few on him too, and he was just as exhausted as I was.

“You have thirty minutes for breakfast,” Tamlin said, his green gaze raking over the sorry state of his recruits, “Then you’ll be reporting to Captain Cassian Knight for formation. Do not embarrass me.”

The relief in the air was palpable. We all dropped our swords into the crate and slowly made our way to the pot of gruel that was waiting for us.

Breakfast was the same as dinner. We sat around the same—now extinguished—fire with the same people, all of us still too tired to start up a conversation. Except for Elijah, who had already managed to bounce back and start up a one-sided commentary about our training this morning.

Exactly thirty minutes later, we found ourselves in the heart of the camp. Tamlin had us lined up in three columns of ten with him at the front. From what I could tell, at least a dozen other commanders were doing the same with their troops. We faced a massive war tent, the Imperial flag flying high from the tallest pole.

“Quiet!” came the booming voice. All eyes turned to the front, focusing on the man who had barked the order.

Tamlin had lined us up by height, which put me in the second row from the front. From there, I could note that the man, Captain Knight I assumed, had dark brown hair that was tied in a tight bun at the nape of his neck. His frame was tall and bulky, similar to Tamlin’s, but he seemed more… grounded, secure. The captain surveyed the now quiet troops, his dark eyes carefully noting every detail.

Often there was little news from the fronts, other than what battles we’ve won and the losses. If families were lucky, they got a letter from Captain Knight himself about the death of their son or husband. The letters were short, but they still conveyed his sorrow for their loss and how much he admired them as a soldier. It was one of the few comforts the families could get. There were too many bodies for the army to send back, so they got burned in mass pyres.

What soldiers did make it home, they were too injured to continue fighting. Some now spent their days drinking away what little money they had from their pay at the pub in town, spewing their war stories and triumphs. Some spoke of the legendary Captain Knight, who led his troops through hell and back with a smile on his face. Yes, news was little from the front, but even I had heard of Cassian Knight, the leashed beast of General Knight’s.

“Soldiers, the Emperor thanks you for your service and loyalty,” he started, “Over the next three weeks, we will be training you men in swordplay, archery and hand to hand combat. Although most of our battles are fought sword to sword, you might lose your weapon on the battlefield and must survive until you can regain it or regroup. Along with battle training, you will be doing general strength and stamina training, as some of you might have already had the privilege of partaking in this morning,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice. One or two brave chuckles or moans wove through the ranks before silencing again. Captain Knight’s face turned solemn at this point and there was a collective intake of breath.

“Not all of you will make it home, I will not lie to you on that,” his voice grave but not soft. “This war has taken a terrible toll on Prythian and its people. But I swear to you all, through every battle, through every hard night, I will be there fighting for our country. We all will be fighting for our country! Our people!” his voice rose into a passioned pitch, dragging us all along with us. The lieutenants yells rose with the captain's voice, prompting the rest of us to follow suit.

Forcing my voice low and hoarse, I joined in on the battle cries, my heart thundering in my chest with the savage beat of war.

For my father.

For my sisters.

For Prythian.

Next Chapter

[qhostqizmo]

Running Home

My last piece was a month ago??? Shit. You see what happens when people occupy my writing space? I have a designated writing area in this house, and when people are here, I can’t use it because there’s people in that room. Fuck off and let me have my room!!

Luckily, I was desperate to write.

- - - - - - - - - -

Spacing out had been an idiotic decision, Essätha realized with a hiss. It had been the most obvious solution to avoid them all being struck in the inferno of fireballs hurled their way by, but it left them each vulnerable to the sheer number of cultists. The Whispered Shadow agents were willing to die; or at least become horrible causality, to their own spellcaster where needed. They did not care for their each other and their own lives. The word of the Raven Lord came first, and by any means necessary, they would accomplish his goals.

It was far easier for individuals like Sulhadur and Pri’cha to stand their ground against being flanked; standing the clash of maces and axes against their hides and armor, less so for individual’s like her. Hearing the sharp cry of Adela’s pain somewhere to her right, Essie realized she was not the only one suffering the consequences.

Stepping hastily back from the man swinging before her, the first attempt at his attack missed. The second swing did not, slicing the sword along her side as she tried to stumble the other way. She drew out a hissing breath of pain and hurled her hand up to send a mist of poisonous spray into their face. They cried out in agony, red-tinted tears running down their face and out of their eyes.

The next arcing weapon embedded itself deeply into her thigh from an unseen force. She wailed in agony, feeling it tear away from muscle. Blood splattered the ground. Fire erupted in her leg, and what remained of her slacks around the now-gaping hole left embedded strands in the mess of gore.

Panic-stricken, Essie gripped the hilt of a dagger along her other thigh, and twisted to bury it into the throat of the person who’d come up beside her. The woman choked; her eyes wide.

Someone kicked her in the side painfully, igniting a radiating ache in her ribs. Gagging for air; unable to cast if she wanted to, Essie flailed desperately in her retreat, swatting and slashing at empty air with another dagger.

Another advanced, carrying no weapon. She swatted at them, but their arm was almost a blur, knocking aside her knife. Their fist connected with her shoulder, missed her windpipe, struck her chin in an uppercut, and followed up by an unpleasant blow to the cheek.

A haze of black webbing entered the edges of her vision. Sore was not even an expression she could begin to explain how she was feeling. This was unbearable.

Terror rose up in her eyes, snuffing out the flames of confidence as she backed up sloppily in a few short steps. Her vision was wobbly; seeing multiple figures surrounding her at once.

Run.

Listening to the small, frightened voice in the back of her mind, Essätha rasped out clipped words of an incantation, and the area around her exploded into a field of hellish night. Darkness sprang out from the tip of the blade of the individual hovering closest, and closed in on them all.

Shrieks and angry cries filled the area. They could not see her, but she could see all of them.

She didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t strong enough for this.

Falling back, Essie crashed into one blinded by the inky blackness, who yelped and went tumbling in a clatter of armor behind her. She swiveled, and met the unfortunate menacing crescent of a grinning sickle to her cheekbone. It sliced off ribbons of her hair as she hurled herself away, feeling the impact of someone’s limbs hit her bruised side. She winced, attempted to dodge, and felt the curl of fingers grab her clothing and consequently, a gaping wound.

A sob escaped her. The pain was excruciating.

Peeling herself away; feeling the agonizing rip of her own flesh pulled off with shreds of her clothing, the sorceress yanked free. Her legs fumbled from the blood-loss. There were people everywhere, making it nearly impassable to break free of the throng without taking a few elbows to the side at the bare minimum.

As she ran forth out of the spell of Darkness she’d cast, a flash of light captured her attention overhead.

Oh, fuck.

Springing forward, Essätha ran as hard and fast as her legs could carry her, the explosive nature of the fireball striking within the walls of Darkness and sending a scolding inferno out in every direction. Waves of flames licked at her heels, and captured the tail-ends of her cape on fire before they were whipped out. Cinders scorched her bare shoulders, and made her wince.

Running through the mass, a surprised individual swung their mace, and missed. Another she passed curved their sword, and jabbed forth, driving it into her arm as she stumbled, and kept running.

Refuge. Her heart leaped in her throat.

A bullish roar announced itself. Craning her neck as she ran, the Yuan-Ti faltered and tripped, nearly stumbling as she charging figure came at her. They expressed a hateful snarl, and their jagged saw of a blade was stained with rust and blood, ready to cut into her like a butcher.

With a thunderous bark, a barreling flash of fur clashed into the man’s side, sending them sprawling. Their horror of a blade was sent flying, and before they could raise an arm to defend themselves, teeth clamped down on their throat and shook them like a ragdoll. The mammoth of the dog whose exterior she knew more as being gentle and carefree, now showed every bit of the warning of ‘hunting dog’ in his dominance over his prey.

The last few feet felt like a mile to the throbbing of her joints, not used to pushing herself so hard. Her safe-haven raised their head to the sound of his companion’s battle-cry, his sword at the ready to defend and end her, but it quickly lowered as he met her eyes.

If she could, she would have jumped into his arms then and there.

Essie barely lurched behind him, gasping for air, and he brought his shield up, grunting at the force of something striking it.

“Stay behind me!”

Gladly, she thought, still trying to catch her breath.

A series of feral, almost animalistic snarls and curses fell out of the nobleman’s mouth; spinning to round on each opponent who stood against him, or tried to press past him to her; the vulnerable hunt to which the vultures swarmed. Turning to face the coming adversaries, she was grateful to see that Sulhadur had made his way over to protect Adela, and Ravamora and Pri’cha were guarding Penimra, who appeared to be in as bad if not worse shape then she was.

Croaking out an enchantment, a conjuring of serpent-like bolts sprang forth close to her palms, darting out to slam into their lone, unprotected mage. Gaping after the first two, they collapsed to the ground as a third and fourth joined in, motionless. What remained of their fires were, thankfully, nearly extinguished by the foot-traffic in the dirt. The ground looked more scorched then they did, at least; with the exception of Sul who appeared as though he’d been walking through flames.

Knocking aside a blow of a mace intended to smash into Caesar’s skull Amon swung his sword with a furious cry, completely beheading the masked figure and sending their head hurling across the ground.

Good Lord. May no one ever try to hurt that dog ever again.

As the tide of the fight began to change, the remaining pickings began to turn tail. They were not given the chance to retreat far; picked off by the tendrils of an Eldritch Blast and Adela’s faithfully returned fireball for their troubles. A few of them were cooked alive inside their armor. The smell alone was nauseating.

Panting heavily, Essie wiped her sweaty brow; staining the brownish-red of blood across her forehead. Her groggy gaze tried to comprehend and seek any stranglers to pick off they may have missed. She didn’t even notice as the nobleman wiped his blade off against the clothes off a cultist, to sheathe it. He gave his faithful mastiff a pat on the head for good measure; who ‘woofed’ in answer, before turning with a heavy sigh of his own to look at her.

His sharp exhale caught her attention. She raised a hand defensively, looking around.

“Where’s it-”

“Essie.”

The worry in her own name was alarmingly new to her, and her eyes went from searching for the new enemy to Amon.

Sanctuary.

Horrified, he stepped closer towards her. His hands hung in the air near her waist, not daring to touch her. His eyes were wide, and his breathing harder then it had been a minute ago; lined with panic.

Inconsiderate to think of his clothes and how she was about to ruin them, Essätha launched herself into his arms with a weak cry. He grabbed her; tentative and careful, to hold her against his chest. He smelled like sweat, and burned skin, and fire, and dirt. He felt like iron; a strong wall. She could see the char of skin along his neck where he’d been burned, and the dark of his eyes when she leaned back to bury her face into his chest, even as he winced from his own aches. A grunt escaped him, quietly.

But he did not reject her, and he did not let her go. He embraced her cautiously in return.

Oh Jubata, she was home.

“Essie.”

She shivered at the sound of her name, whispered softly and close to her ear. It was… beautiful. The way he said her name; breathless, delicate, endearing. It reminded her of the way she’d heard some people say…

Her eyelids fluttered open as she was pulled closer. Her wounds stung. A hissing breath escaped her as Amon lowered his stance, and slid an arm beneath her knees to scoop her up and cradle her against her chest.

“I’ve got you,” he soothed, his breath wafting softly against her cheek.

She rested her cheek against his shoulder. What she wanted to do; really wanted to do, was cry. Give up. Tantrum; scream, say it wasn’t fair, yell, and howl, and tear at her hair and at every wretched body on the ground. She was exhausted, and she hurt. She hurt a lot; down to her bones.

But none of that was going to solve anything.

Sniveling, she tucked her face into his shoulder. Even without looking at him, she reached up to press her palm against his cheek. Her fingers grazed through his beard softly, and there was no mistaking the sound that escaped him as he leaned his face into her touch. It was sigh both dreamy and fond; affection and wanting as he tenderly curled his arms inward, bringing her closer. You’re safe here, the gesture said without saying it.

Dropping her hand, she placed it gingerly to his other shoulder for support as her Lord Amon carried her across the carnage towards their cleric, with Caesar’s lamented whining chorusing just behind them with concern.

There was no where she’d rather run to, then to him, right into his arms.

[underatedcharactersunite]

The Sargent Chronicles; Chance Encounter

Series Summary; Emily Dixon is a Mother of two. A Proud Mother to a 10-year-old son Andrew and eight-year-old Jessica. Ever since the world broke down and the unfortunate death of her fiance Jax, Emily has been struggling to keep the remainder of her family alive on her own. As her family travels down a disserted highway, a brave determined Sargent and his team are traveling the same highway trying to get the cure to Washington. What happens with Abraham and Emily cross paths and experiences the ups and downs on the new broken world? Chapter plot; Emily, Andrew, and Jessica are traveling along an abandoned highway, which isn’t abanded for very long.  Pairing; Abraham Ford X Emily Dixon (OC)  WordCount; 6,570 Warnings;  Strong violence, strong language, mentions of blood and death A/N; This is extremely long, but hopefully, you guys enjoy it

The smoldering sun blistered down on three desperate people. Ever since the world broke down every mission was the same; run and scavenge and attempt to find somewhere they could sleep for a night or two. Then they were back on the road. Emily’s back arched in pain with every agonizing step, the weight of their supplies on her back, food, water, medical supplies. Whatever she could find, she took and put in her rucksack. Two assault rifles carried on her shoulders, two pistols on either hip and several knives slipped into her belt that she had made personally. Safety was her priority and she refused to lose any more family members especially her children. 

Emily kept an eye out on Andrew, her ten-year-old son carrying a pistol aiming in the air ready to attack anyone or anything that came at them. When Andrew suggested that he carry a gun, she had been more than a little hesitant into letting him carrying anything more than a knife. In her eyes, Andrew was still a baby. Before this, all started Andrew and she had come to an agreement, his Uncles could teach him how to use a knife, a bow, and arrow, a crossbow. But he was not allowed to use a gun until he was eighteen, his Father had promised to teach him but after the world went to hell; she had no choice. 

The world had changed, there was immediate danger in every which way they looked or attempted to take. If it wasn’t desperate people who needed food or whatever you had then a Walker was not too far in front of, behind or to the sides of you trying to eat you. The weapons she had given Andrew to use for their protection were special and monumental, once upon a time before the world had gone to hell, they had belonged to his Father. So Andrew knew very well that the weapons he carried on his person he had to treat with the utmost respect. 

Jessica, Emily’s eight-year-old daughter head twisted and turned like an owl in the middle of the night. There was a time where Jessica loved the woods, Daryl and Merle used to take her fishing all the time. But now the woods and forests held Walkers and untold dangers. So now her Daughter stuck to her like superglue not willing to leave her Mother’s side for anything. 

“Momma, can we stop for some water?” Jessica questioned, Emily looked down at her briefly. 

“We can’t stop right now honey, but you can have a drink of water. Turn around and I’ll get it out for you okay.” The two of them briefly stopped as Emily rummaged through her Disney Princess rucksack. All the whilst, her eyes maintained on Andrew making sure he was safe. The moment Emily had the bag zipped back up, the two of them were back on the road. 

“Mum! There’s a car!” Andrew’s alert caused Emily to begin to scan the road up ahead. There was indeed a car, nothing overly special, a basic four-door sedan but that was enough for the three of them. Everyone seemed to get a burst of adrenaline as the three gathered up sped heading towards the car. 

“It looks trashed.” Emily and Jessica who were still a bit behind picked up to a light jog. The moment the two of them arrive at the car, Emily dropped her rucksack near the car. For the world they lived in it looked relatively clean and in good condition minus the rubbish inside of it. But Rubbish meant the possibility of supplies.  

“At least there are no dead bodies in this one,” Andrew commented as he pulled open the door. 

“That is one positive the question is why has it been left. Jessica, honey, why don’t ya check through the bags in the back of the car, Andrew pop the trunk and see what’s in there that’s salvageable. I’m going to look under the hood and see what we’re dealin’ with.”  Before Emily knew little to nothing about cars and whilst she knew barely anything now she knew enough to get them started at least. 

The car appeared to be in pretty decent shape, however, there was one problem. There was no fuel. The chances of finding any source of fuel were near impossible. As far as the map revealed there was no gas station within miles. They were on a flat stretch of road that didn’t provide her or the children any places to stop to rest other than vehicles and she was beyond tired in letting the kids sleep in a cramped vehicle. Kicking the tire of the car, she needed to think she couldn’t keep on like this. Slamming the hood of the car down in sheer frustration, she needed to think and think quickly of what she was going to do. 

Jax would have known what to do, he always could think of a plan. But now she was stuck in a world where she and her children never seemed to get a break or an ounce of luck. They were fucked, she didn’t know where she was going to find food or a place to sleep. 

“Mum look out!” Andrews' voice brought her out of her train of thought. Grabbing her knife out of her belt swinging it straight into a Walker’s head. 

“Am I not allowed five fuckin’ minutes to think without one of ya dead decaying fuckers trying to eat me or my kids.” Looking up she noticed at least six more making their way towards them. 

“Andy, get in the car, shut the doors, I’ll handle this.” Andrew hesitated but he knew all to well the look in his mother’s eyes. A look until the break out he has never witnessed before. Running around closing all the doors and grabbing the rucksack he got into the car with Jessica who was panicking in floods of tears. 

All the while Emily stood there waiting for the Walkers to approach as they did Emily sprung into action almost as if it had become some sort of dance that she did. One by one, Emily took the Walkers down stabbing them or throwing punches at them. She had no preferable method other than to unleash anger on the ones who had caused her so much pain and agony. A bloody mess was all over the floor and herself.  

The moment it came down to the last Walker that used to be a man, she smiled. 

“I’m really sorry but ya picked the wrong day to cross my path.” Punching the Walker in the face she began her onslaught of punches onto the Walker before grabbing the butt of her assault rifle over and over again. The Walkers face was completely destroyed and it was certainly dead but Emily was not going to stop anytime soon. 

That was until she heard a truck. 

A piercing scream broke Emily’s concentration, her head jolted in the other direction to witness two Walkers attempting to break into the car. Emily efficiently went around the car stabbing both in the head. The trucks break screeched as they came to a halt, moving to the trunk of the car she braced herself. She had no idea, who was in that truck, what was going to come out of it whether it be good or bad. 

“What the fuck are ya staring at? Come to enjoy the show have ya.” Abruptly the truck doors opened, two men one woman exited. The woman appeared to be fairly lean, her hair tied up in pigtails. Emily knew if she weren't to pick a fight strategically than this woman could easily give her a run for her money. The man with the dark brown hair and the shorts appeared to be absolutely terrified, an easy battle for her. Yet the ginger-haired man, tall, bulky, military haircut dressed in a grey vest top and military camouflage trousers oozed authority, confidence and was attempting to suggest dominance over her. That was not going to happen. 

“You’ve got a big mouth on ya Darlin’, what else you got?” The tall ginger man was clearly attempting to make her back down and submit to him and his group but he was barking up the wrong alley with her. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Emily struggled to get her bearings with the man to see if he was one of the few good ones that had been left on this forsaken planet, she couldn’t quite tell at the moment, but she was intrigued by him deeply. The woman stepped towards the car, Emily made quick to step to her drawing her pistol and aiming it directly towards her head. 

“Ya go near this car again and I’m going to blow ya brains out, do ya understand me? Because if ya don’t things are going to get really ugly for ya and fast.” The woman attempted again but Emily was not having it, drawing her knife from her belt. She prepared herself, they were not going to get at her children, no way on hell and she was more than ready to fight to the death. 

“I have warned you twice, I am not gonna warn you again. You take one step towards the car and I will kill you oh so slowly and painfully. Do ya understand me?” The brown-haired man pointed towards the car, Emily observed intently. He knows. He can see Jessica and Andrew. The man whispered to the tall Ginger haired man who seemed to follow his finger. 

“Rosita, back off. She’s not playing she will kill you.” The ginger-haired man ran his hand over his mustache. Emily watched as the woman who she now knew was Rosita back off. She slowly lowered her weapons feeling like they were all at a safe distance. 

“Why do we have to back off? She might have things we need.” 

“You wanna go against a Momma bear protecting her cubs? That’s for someone who has a death wish, which we don’t. I apologize for the hostilities, honey we don’t mean any harm to you or your cubs. My names Abraham, this here is Eugene and that’s Rosita.” Emily wasn’t happy. For all, she knew this could be some elaborate trap. Something deep in her mind was telling her that they were good people. 

“Emily Dixon.” Abraham’s eyes fluctuated between Emily’s body and her face trying to gauge her reaction. He knew exactly what was going through her head, By the looks of it, Emily had been on her own on the road for a while. At one glance he knew how exhausted and drained she was. But she kept fighting for her children and the need to survive. Her clothes were covered in blood, Abraham hoped that most of it, if not all of it were Walkers and not her own. 

“Eugene go grab a rag so she can clean up a little. Ya got any spare clothes?” Emily nodded signalling to the car. Suddenly the car door swung open and Jessica came running out. 

“Jessie, wait Mum didn’t give the signal” Jessica ran towards Emily, who was quick to wrap her arms around her youngest. 

“Don’t move!” Andrew’s gun was aimed directly at Abraham. 

“Whoa, easy there son. I’m not a threat to you, your sister or your Momma okay. I was just about to ask your Momma if she would like to come with us. I’d give you my word that I and my group will not harm any of you. Does the car work?” Andrew slowly lowered his weapon and shook his head. 

“There’s no gas. Might be wise to see if there are any parts in-case something goes south.” Abraham nodded, running his hand over his beard. 

“That’s a good idea. Why don’t ya go and sit in the truck while your Momma goes to get changed and then we’ll scrap the car before getting a move on.”

“I’m not giving up my gun!” Andrew virtually yelled Emily shot a stern look at her son.

“No one is asking ya too. Have I ever told ya how much you remind me of your Uncle Merle when ya say stuff like that.”  Andrew smiled sheepishly, slowly moving towards Abraham’s truck whilst Emily lifted the rucksack onto her shoulder. Abraham took the time to bend down to the little girl with the wavy brown hair and the electric blue eyes. 

“Hey, there little lady, I’m Abraham. What do you say we go and investigate your new ride?” Jessica buried her head deeper into her Mothers stomach. 

“Go on, sweet girl. I’ll be there in a second okay. I’ve just got to change okay.” Reluctantly Jessica went with Abraham looking back every now and again searching for the reassurance provided to her with a gentle smile.  

Tracking back to the beat up car, Emily wondered if her luck was finally changing, yet she remained  cautious, she didn’t know who these people were, they could still prove to be a threat yet there was something about Abraham that sat well with her, perhaps he was one of the good ones. 

Throwing on her spare set of clothes, she began to tear a shred of her old shirt before shoving it into the rucksack. Getting out of the car, dropping the bag beside it, she walked towards the nearest tree, wrapping it around the tree, before pulling out her dagger to carve a message. 

“What is she doing?” Eugene questioned as Andrew stood to the side of the truck keeping watch on his Mother. 

“She’s leaving messages for Uncle Daryl and Uncle Merle.”  Andrew scoffed, was it really that difficult for someone to clearly see what his Mother was doing. 

“But why?” Rolling his eyes, Andrew couldn’t believe someone to be so blatantly thick.

“Because Uncle Daryl and Uncle Merle are the best trackers in the world.” Andrew thought his Uncles were the coolest people on earth. Uncle Merle had many problems and many people hated him for it. But Andrew didn’t, he knew that Uncle Merle was a good person deep down. 

Upon seeing his Mum coming towards the truck, he gave in and began to get into the truck being assured they weren’t going to go off and leave their Mum stranded. 

Emily stopped in-front of Abraham, making sure to look directly into his eyes.

“I’m warning ya if ya thinking about harming my kids, I will kill ya.”  

“You are just going to have to learn to trust us. Your carriage awaits.” Emily waited until Andrew was safely in the truck before getting in herself wondering where this was going to take her and her children. 

A couple of days in, Abraham informed Emily where they were heading and why. Eugene was a scientist that might be able to stop the end of the world. It appeared to be too good to be true, but Emily was hopeful. 

Other than that Abraham, Eugene and Rosita were good people. Eugene was shy but brilliant, he was so intelligent. Emily had never met someone who was able to solve something in a scientific way before. Rosita, on the other hand, was whole different kind of badass, Rosita was bold, strong and an excellent fighter but she was a quick thinker, an ideal person to have on your side during times like this.  

Yet it was Abraham who was the most difficult to read. He was angry, volatile, argumentative and arrogant. Yet every time she observed him she knew there was more than he was putting on the table. 

One night, Abraham was driving, he’d asked Emily if she wanted to sit with him in the passenger side.  Andrew, Eugene, Jessica, and Rosita were all asleep leaving the two of them alone. Emily sat up with her boots off resting her feet comfortably on the chair, her head resting against the back of her chair.

“You’ve been extremely impressive over the past couple of days, ya know I’ve been wonderin’ where ya learned those skills. “ Emily glanced up at Abraham pulling the necklace off of her neck and opening up the small trinket. 

“There’s me thinking me you wanted to know what my favourite colour was. I got my hunting and tracking from my brother Daryl, Merle taught me how to shoot and my ability to think quickly came from my fiancé Jax. He was a military man like yourself”

“You don’t have to talk about it but where is your fiancé?” Emily looked down at the small picture that was held within in the heart. 

“I have no idea. One day he went out to see if he could grab some supplies, he’d been gone a little longer than usual but I didn’t worry about it. He came back a little later covered in blood. I thought it was nothin’ perhaps he’d killed a few Walkers but when I pulled off his shirt a chunk had been taken out of his arm. I knew what it meant and so did he. Do you know what the crazy son of a bitch did? He wrapped his arm up in a bandage so the kids didn’t see and began to load up the car with food and supplies. He told the kids they were gonna go see their Uncles for a while. He made sure they had everything, Jessica’s Teddy bear, Andrews comic books. He made sure they were okay. Then he leads me to the gun cabinet and gave me every last weapon we had in the house. Every last bullet. Everything he thought we would need. I knew he was getting weaker. He got us all in the car, kissed the kids and myself and went back into the house, just like I was going to my brothers on a regular day...I know I should have killed him...But I couldn’t not him.” Emily’s hand was met with a rough calloused one as she stared down at their hands before looking up at Abraham. 

“You did the right thing. You got you and your pups out of there and you’ve been keeping them alive all this time. You did what you had to do.” Abraham had never encountered a woman so dominant before, a woman so headstrong who’s also able to quickly think on her feet. He never believed that Wonder Woman existed before, but to him, Emily was getting pretty close to it. Yet he knew deep down there was more to her. Abraham wanted to know her, every inch and crevice 

“Perhaps your right, but that doesn’t mean I feel any less guilty. So what about you?” Abraham sighed, he had never spoken about it. He’d been with Eugene and Rosita for months and he’d never spoken about it. Yet this woman had walked into his life and he suddenly feels like he can open up to her. What the fuck was going on?

“We’ve got similar stories, expect the world decided to fuck me up real hard. I lost my wife and my children. Now I’ve got nothing left to lose.” Emily tightened her grip on Abraham’s hand. 

“Ya know you don’t have to be tough around me right? My brothers attempted to be tough sons of a bitch’s all the time. Thinkin’ if they went around pretendin’ that shit didn’t go down then I wouldn’t notice it. Yet I saw every dam thing. I saw every last dam thing. Albeit, Merle was better than Daryl was. Then again Merle had a lot of shit to hide. The alcohol. The drug taking. There wasn’t a dam pill on this earth that Merle hadn’t tired. What I mean was I can see through these tough ass personas.” Emily and Abraham laughed quietly attempting to not wake anyone up.

“Your really something, you know that Darlin’”  

“I’ve been told that a few times... Does that mean we get to stay traveling with ya?” Abraham cocked his eyebrow at her, despite her threatening him a couple of days ago, he knew he couldn’t get rid of her and the pups. No way in hell. 

“I haven’t got much choice now, do I?” 

“No way in hell.” Abraham focused back on the road with a smug grin on his face. He was about to be in for one hell of a ride and for once in this dicked earth, he was looking forward to it. 

Journeys became a part of a routine, everyone seemed to get on with each other, occasionally they would stop and search cars for supplies, all there was were forest and road and the occasional Walker. The world had turned so bleak it was almost laughable. Emily sat behind Abraham watching the world go by. 

The worst thing about this entire situation was the heat, it was so dam hot. Emily was melting. Her plaid shirt rested on the back parcel shelf rather then on herself. She was looking ahead when she noticed a silhouette of something in the distance. 

“Abraham, what’s that ahead?” Abraham turned his head slightly so he could catch a glimpse at her, a scar on her collar bone caught his attention. But he couldn’t ask her about it now. Following her gaze, he quickly caught what had caught her attention. 

“Well Darlin’, it looks like you caught sight of a fellow human being, let’s see what she’s got to offer.” Abraham sped up before bringing the truck to a halt. The truck was in complete and utter silence, Emily grew tired of watching the scene unfold in front of her. A young woman was currently beating the living daylights out of a couple of Walkers, it appeared to be some sort of Deja vu experience except last time Emily was one on the other side of the glass. 

“Is this some sort of initiation experience? You watch people struggle whilst you make a determination of whether or not they are good people” Emily popped her head around the chair so she could properly look at him. 

“No Darlin’ we just leave that for the pretty ones...now let’s go and figure out what we’re dealing with right here.”  Abraham pushed open the door and everyone began to pile out. Emily got out helping Andrew and Jessica out. Instinctively, Emily used herself as a human shield to block the woman away from her children. Abraham turned to glimpse at Emily who was geared up and ready to go despite still not sleeping. 

“Don’t worry Momma, she’s getting an ass whooping if she gets to close.” Upon feeling his Mother tense up, Andrew moved from behind her to stand beside her. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, he would protect his Momma and his little sister with his life if he had too. 

Scanning the area, Emily noticed a man lying in the ditch, perhaps that’s why the woman was being so protective. 

“Go ahead and check it out, I’ve got her.” Walking towards the young woman she kept her hand on her knife, she approached with caution but knew if she had to she could fight her, not that she wanted to right now. Just as she expected to, the woman checked her out, attempting to figure her out, Emily wasn’t going to give her anything. 

“Is he alive?” Emily tried to get past her but once again the woman blocked her path.

“If you try anything? I will kill you.” The woman threatened whilst Emily squared up to her, posture straight, shoulders straight, Emily stood eye to eye with the young woman. 

“Looks like we agree on somethin’ Cause if ya try anythin’ I will kill ya. The ones behind me won’t even get a look in.” The woman let Emily passed as she crouched down to check out what she was dealing with. Emily attempted to check for a pulse, but since the man was wearing a helmet and full body armour. What the hell were they doing?

“Has he got any injuries that I need to know about?” The woman shook her head as she crouched down beside her. Knowing this Emily began to work efficiently removing the helmet and the body armour. Finally, she was able to check a pulse, it was there but weak. 

“I need some water and a rag.” Emily was more focused on the young man rather than who was moving around her. 

“Is he going to be okay? What’s wrong with him?” The young woman questioned and Emily smiled. 

“He’s going to be okay, it seems like he passed out from heat exhaustion. All he needs is some rest and plenty of water when he wakes. He’ll be bright as rain....thank you.” Rosita passed her the water and the rag, being quick to smother the rag in the semi-cool water, gently running it over his face. 

“My names Tara, by the way, and this is Glenn.” 

“I’m Rosita and that’s Emily, Abraham should be along any second to get you settled in the truck.” Abraham came lifting Glenn into the back of the truck, Emily passed Tara the rag and the bottle of water she still had. 

“Thank you,” Tara spoke softly as Emily closed the back of the truck, Emily went to get into the truck when Rosita gently grabbed her arm. 

“Okay spill, were you a doctor before all of this went down?” Emily grinned, flattered that someone could think of her so highly. 

“Thank you for speaking so highly of me but I wasn’t a doctor...I was a vet.” Emily casually entered the truck taking a seat. 

“What are you two fine ladies gossiping about?” Abraham asks whilst he turns on the ignition of the truck. 

“Emily used to be a vet, that’s how she knew how to help Glenn.” Abraham turned his head slightly grateful that she was sitting in the middle this time. 

“Dam Darlin’ your just full of surprises aren’t ya...so are you qualified to work on humans or is that just a myth.” Leaning forward, Emily paid attention to them more.

“You have no idea when I’m gonna surprise ya. I can work on humans but a Doctor can’t work on animals. I have some of my medical supplies in one of the bags but not nearly as much as I’d like to. “ Abraham smirked whilst Emily kept her composure calm. 

“What kind of animals did you use to work on?” Rosita asked, Emily almost laughed, a question completely trivial, momentarily Emily had forgotten how much she missed that.

“Mainly Horses, Deer, Raccoons and Coyotes, Dogs, cats etc. I’ve worked on the occasional Alligator and Porcupine.” Abraham looked into the mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. This woman was driving him absolutely nuts and boy he was loving every second of it. She was like a jigsaw puzzle and slowly she was coming together. Best part, he knew now if he ever needed any medical attention, he had an excuse to get close to her. 

The morning sun rose above the trees. Abraham continued to drive whilst the others slept, he turned his head to get a glance at Emily who was sleeping her head resting against the glass panel. There was no way on earth that position was comfortable but at least she was finally asleep. She hadn’t slept the entire time she’d been with them. When they get to Washington, he was going to make sure that she had an actually had a bed, perhaps she might let him join her somewhere down the line. 

“She trusts us,” Rosita’s eyes fluttered open stretching out her aching limbs. 

“She does...it’s about time.” 

The two drove in silence for a while letting the other four sleep. He needed to let her have the rest while she could have it. Yet, of course, the earth was dicked. 

“Stop! Let us off! Stop the truck.” At first, Abraham ignored them, hoping that they wouldn’t wake any of them up. A slam against the glass, lurched Emily’s head forward a scream escaping her lips. 

“Emily!” Abraham slammed down on the breaks, Rosita turns to look at Emily to see her hand covered in blood. 

“Momma!” The world spun as Emily attempted to get her surroundings, she had no idea what had happened, she’d been asleep and then an agonizing pain. 

“Abraham she’s bleeding,” Rosita yelled, pulling open the door, he got out pushing the seat forwards. 

“Eugene stay with pups! Come on Darlin’ come here.” Emily stood on her feet, attempting to take a couple of steps but she stumbled forward, falling directly into Abraham’s arms. 

“I’ve got ya. Come on.” Picking her up bridal style, he carried her around the back of the truck where Tara and Glenn were picking up their things. 

“I’m just going to place you on the truck right here...I’m just going to get something to clean you up okay.” Emily slumped against the truck. 

“Emily, what happened?” Tara’s face appeared in front of Emily yet she was unable to fully focus on her. 

“One of you fuckers thought was a good idea to hit the back window with the butt of a gun in the process hitting her head. Now she’s bleedin’” Abraham began rummaging through the bags trying to find the medical supplies she was talking about.  

“Tara, we need to get moving?” Glenn instructed but Tara looked back at Emily the woman who saved Glenn’s life.

“Wait, Emily saved your life. The least we can do is help her.” Glenn looked back at the young woman who was just about awake. 

“We’re behind, he looks like he’s got it covered.” Glenn and Tara began to walk away, Abraham had just found Emily’s medical stuff, picking up a mixture of bandages and tablets, he didn’t know what any of this would do so he grabbed it all. When he turned around he noticed the two gone. 

“Son of a bitch.” Abraham dropped down returning back to Emily who was in and out of consciousness. 

“Darlin’, I don’t know much about head injuries but I do know ya need to stay awake. Let me see those beautiful blues of yours.” Emily opened her eyes just enough. 

“They’re getting away,” Emily muttered and he was dam neared floored. Here she was in pain, with a head injury still worrying about everyone else. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna pick you up and move you around to the front of the truck so we can get Tara and her friend to stay with us and whilst I’m doing that I’m gonna fix you up....I’ve got ya Darlin’, I’m gonna take care of ya.” Abraham lifted the young woman up, holding her tightly with one arm whilst grabbing everything he thought he needed. 

“Andrew, I need ya help.” He was hoping that he might understand what some of the medications might mean. Tara and her male companion hadn’t made it that far. Andrew and Jessica were out of the truck and standing by Abraham in a second. 

“Do you know what any of these medications mean? Jessie, honey I need ya to keep your Momma talking whilst, I go and deal with these two.” Andrew nodded and the two began to get to their missions, Abraham jogged up to catch Tara. 

“Where the hell are you going? Where the hell’s he going? I don’t know what your lady friends been telling you about the special nature of the mission we’re on, but this shit is time sensitive and we’re already way behind schedule. So I’m going to need ya to turn your ass around and get back in the truck...Not to mention you’ve hurt one of our own.” Abraham turned to take a glance at Emily to see she was struggling to get up, her hand holding onto her head. 

“I need to go.” The man replied but Abraham wasn’t paying full attention to him. 

“Yeah well I need to go and take care of her but she’s more worried about you two. You know what, it seems like neither of you has been paying attention to the hell on earth we’ve been living in. So let me tell ya how to best avoid winding up just another dead alive prick. You find some strong like-minded comrades and you stay stuck together like wet on water. We need people the more the better. We need each other, partner. Even with all the gear on your shoulder, you won’t last a night, not by yourself. “ 

“I’ll take my chances.” Abraham laid a hand on his chest. He did not want to start a fight, not right now. He wanted to get back to Emily as quickly as possible. 

“Imma have to insist.” The tension was high, luckily for him, Rosita had come up behind them. Abraham felt a hand on his fist, momentarily looking down. He didn’t want a fight at this current moment, he needed to get back to Emily. 

“Believe it or not. The fate of the entire dam human race might just depend on it” The man shoved his hand away, Abraham could feel his temper rising. 

“The hell are you talking about. Who is this guy?” 

“I’m Sargent Abraham Ford and these are my companions, Rosita Espinosa, Eugene Porter, Emily Dixon, and her two pups, Jessica and Andrew.” 

“I’m not a pup!...aren’t you meant to be helping my Momma?” Andrew yelled. 

“Alright, then a young dog, I’m coming.” Abraham began to walk towards Emily, the boy was right, crossing the distance, when he got to her, he crouched down. 

“We’re on a mission to get Eugene to DC. Eugene’s a scientist and he knows exactly how to fix this mess.” Abraham smiled when he realized that she was still awake and holding onto his arm. 

“Alright, so what happened?” The man asked, whilst Abraham looked through Emily’s brown locks, her curls fighting his view. The cut looked nasty but he knew he could fix it up enough. 

“It’s classified.” Eugene perked up, Andrew handed Abraham an antibacterial wipe, slowly he began to work. 

“Fuck,” Emily muttered as Abraham began to touch the deeper cut. Abraham realized he couldn’t just put a plaster on it, but he needed to keep it clean. 

“Just apply the gauze on her head and then use the bandage to keep it in place,” Andrew instructed. Following the instructions, Abraham found it pretty easy.

“He’s been talking to Muckidy Mucks on his satellite phone. The past couple of weeks no one's been picking up on the other end. We saw how you handed those corpses back there, we could use your help.” Abraham took the bottle of pills from Andrew, passing Emily those and some water to take them with. 

“Darlin’, I’m gonna get you to stand up now. we’re just gonna have to keep an eye on you for a while.” With Emily up at least, he was now fully able to work on his other problem. 

“Sorry.” The man walked away, Emily tries to work out what on earth she’d been missing, looking to Rosita to see if she knew what was going on. Glenn and Tara began to walk away. Abraham followed them tired of all the bullshit. 

The way Abraham walked told Emily everything she needed too, he was growing tired and he was pissed off. Leaning off of the truck, Emily began walking in the same direction, Andrew and Jessica took her flank. Emily’s unsure of what’s going on much of the conversation she can’t make out until she hears;

“That’s where she’d go to find me,” Glenn said to Tara as Emily attempted to put the pieces together.

“It’s a waste of time, Tara told us what went down. There’s zero chance you would ever find your wife alive or dead. Mainly because sorry to tell you she’s gone...no need for you to die too. Everything goes silent, Emily felt Abraham’s words harsh and unfair, trying to get him to come with them is one thing but to use his wife is another. 

“No need for you to die too, now come on get back in the truck.” 

“She’s alive and I know it.” Out of no-where Walkers began to drag their dead bodies towards the group, Jessica’s scream brought the group to realize just how urgent the situation was. Instinct took over, everyone seemed to know exactly what to do. Despite feeling weak, Emily managed to take down a Walker on her own. 

It was all going so well until everyone heard a number of gunshots. Looking in the direction where all of the gunshots had come from. 

“What the fuck?” Emily questioned as she walked to the truck, looking down at all of the bullet holes along the side. Emily crouched down in front, holding her head. The liquid seemed to be pouring out of the gas tank, Abraham crouched down beside Emily resting a hand on the truck behind her.

“Don’t suppose you can fix bullet holes, can ya darlin’?”

“No, unfortunately not. Know anything Sargent?” Abraham smirked, he liked the way that sounded coming off of her lips.

“I can have a look, if you feel ill anytime Darlin’, you stand back up.” Rolling her eyes Emily knew he was putting her best interests at heart. Getting under the truck, Abraham began to examine the truck. 

“You tell me how in the holy hell, could you possibly kill this truck.” Emily sniggered at his use of holy then it dawned at her what it meant. Life back on the road, the running, the scavenging for food and supplies.

“Looks like we’re walking now.” Abraham made a statement to everyone, looked around.

“Emily’s got a head wound, and probably a concussion should she really be on her feet?” Rosita questioned, Abraham looked at Emily who was still crouched down. He knew she shouldn’t be on her feet but they had no choice and little Jessica was practically shaking in fear. 

“We need to get moving, we all need to keep an eye out for her.” 

“I’ve not gone deaf you know.” Abraham laughed as he slowly helped her up, she held her head tightly as she began to move around the back of the truck slowly loading herself up, the kids followed suit knowing exactly what to do. Emily knew how scared Jessica was so she attempted to bend down but Abraham was already there, it was almost as if he was a mind reader. 

“Little Lady, remember when we first met and I vowed to you, your brother and specifically your Momma that I’d protect you and you were safe with us. Now, just because we’ve got to leave this truck behind does not mean that offer is leaving or any of us is going to leave ya...tell ya what I’ll even hold ya hand if you want to. Your one of us now and we protect our own....besides I’m going to need someone to help me keep an eye out for your Momma.” Emily smiled at him, it was the first time he’d seen her smile genuinely.

Emily felt eyes staring at her intensely,  her eyes turned to look to see Glenn staring at her. 

“You're the woman in the photo, your her....you’re the sister...Daryl’s sister.

[thefredricus]

New Year Surprise (☆▽☆)

I hope you’re all having a lovely New Year’s eve! I have something special for you all tonight: My very first Ripto fanfic! (<-- Link!)

This is the daruma doll that I made a promise to at the beginning of 2018. The promise was to write and publish a fanfiction before New Year’s. I originally planned to write for another fandom, but things happened, yet I decided that I didn’t want to break the promise I made to myself and burn the daruma doll.

However, I decided to split the story in two chapters. The first one was just published and ready for some reading! The second one is on its way and will be posted later this week. I’m so excited to share this with you all! <3 

You can either read it below the cut, or go to AO3 and read it there!

Year of the Dinosaur

The sun scorched the cloudless azure sky. Waves were seen lapping against a non-existent shore along the horizon, as non-existent trees reflected in the mirage. But the heat was real. The sand that stung their eyes and nostrils was real. The hunger, thirst and fatigue -- they were all real. The outskirts of Skelos Badlands at solar zenith showed no mercy to the broken duo. Ripto ran a sleeve over his brow to wipe off a disgusting lump of sweat and dust. He wasn’t accustomed to the feel of a new set of scars and still open wounds that ran across his face. Not only did they ache, but they made him feel hideous, even though he hadn’t dared to look at his own reflection since that night. That fateful night… He quickly shook himself out of his stupor.

“Gulp! Is that mountains I see over there? Or is it just another hallucination, like the time you tried to drink from that oasis and ended up with a mouthful of dry sand,” Ripto spat between chapped lips.

The massive quadruped grunted guiltily under Ripto’s frame as he walked and looked away, embarrassed.

“Well, it’d better be! I mean, how far could that bonehead have gone? Crush can’t go more than five minutes without food, we’d have found him dead by now-”

Ripto’s last words echoed out in rough coughs that left the small, wounded dinosaur gasp for air. He clenched his chest with both arms and bent forward in a sickly bark. Reflexively, he reached for one of Gulp’s horns for support, but he crabbed nothing but air and fell forward, rolling off his companion’s muzzle and into the sand below. He felt panic build in his stomach, climbing up his chest, oozing in his throat like acid that ate away everything.

Is this where it was all going to end? Did he escape one hell just to get flung into another?

Ripto’s thoughts were caught short when he felt a tender touch against his forehead and a breeze of warm air that brushed his skin, leaving him with momentary comfort. Gulp hummed softly and kept nuzzling his master, ever so gently. Ripto exhaled slowly, lifting his hands to his companion's face, pressing his forehead against the gentle giant.

“At least I can count on you,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone.

Struggling to get out from the molten lava and grasp whatever debris he could find was an ordeal in itself. Feeling every part of his being burn like a thousand suns on top of that would have been too much, if he wouldn’t have been so excruciatingly headstrong -- and if he wouldn’t have had some help from a certain green dinosaur who pulled him out from the burning inferno and who stayed at his side to nurture him back to as close as what health could be, given the circumstances. After Avalar was reclaimed, with the help of a filthy dragon no less, all dinosaurs were banned to the deserts and crags of Skelos. Whatever vapor Ripto ended up in there and then, finding Crush seemed like a good idea at the time. Better to reunite the trio, he thought. Better wallow in each others’ company, he though. But right now he was not sure if he could even think at all. His head was spinning, his mouth was as arid as the endless dunes surrounding him and his delusions blended seamlessly into reality.

“Are those mountains real, Gulp?” Ripto persuaded, even though they seemed to be miles away.

He could feel the big dinosaur’s snout lifting him up. Slump, the fallen king lay across his servant’s face. The weight of his heavy head and his agonies left him incapable of sitting up. His vision blurred as he faded away.

“Gulp... Take us there.”

***

Ripto’s consciousness returned along with a throbbing headache against his temples. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was seeing double when he opened his eyes, his pupils nothing but sharp slits in the brightness. The sun stood seemingly lower on the sky now, however, and with the sinking sun a cold night would follow. The thought of him staying alive for that long gave him a little bit of comfort. Just then, Gulp stopped abruptly and nodded a gesture, Ripto nearly getting flung off in the process.

“Gah! W-what are you doing, you-”

The irate dinosaur locked eyes with his servant, who now gestured enthusiastically with eyes and eyebrows for his master to turn his head. Having no choice, unless he wanted to get shook off again, he spun his horned head around, the rest of his body still laying flat on Gulp’s snout. Ripto’s eyes grew big in surprise, as his gaze met a large cavern protruding from a vertical crag in the sandy dunes. Partly because the crag was indeed not a mirage but a real, hard mineral formation, and partly because it was coated in a much familiar scent. Ripto sniffed the air. Ungraciously he slumped off Gulp’s wide muzzle and continued sleuthing, ignoring the grains of sand that got stuck in his nostrils and mouth. It smelled stale. It smelled of dinosaur. It smelled of flesh and blood. Ripto wobbled forward.

“Crush? No more hiding, we crossed this god-forsaken desert only to-”

Stale. Crush wasn’t famous for smelling of roses, that was for sure, but… this smelled wrong. It smelled of death. And when a dinosaur of Ripto’s size scented death, it ran. But there was nowhere for him to flee.

It all happened very fast when the lava lizard attacked.

All Ripto could see was a blur of sharp teeth plunging towards him, like an extension of the gaping maw in the rock itself. He wasn’t sure if it was deeply rooted survival instinct or sheer luck that made his body move on its own, throwing itself to the side and dodging his assaulter’s deadly strike. Stuck face-down in the sand, all Ripto could hear was a bone-chilling snarl that sent shivers down his thin frame. The noise eventually died out and a minute of silence followed. Or perhaps it was less than a second. Ripto couldn’t tell. Maybe it was an hour. Just as he was about to get up and shake it off as another hallucination, a heavy foot dug itself into the back of his head, forcing him harder down into the ground. One of the predator’s curved claws clicked against Ripto’s horn, once, twice. The helpless dinosaur felt the grip tighten around him. And then--

The pressure lifted in the fraction of a second, followed by a guttural roar and a blow that shook the earth around him. Yanking his head from the ground, Ripto realized that Gulp had rammed into the lava lizard head first, making use of his body mass and sharp horns to force their attacker off balance. The lava lizard scrambled back onto its feet as quickly as it had fallen, and it wasn’t quite until now that Ripto realized how massive this creature was; a monstrous biped standing a good three meters over the ground, with rough scales draped in a deep burgundy making it look like it just climbed out from the depths of hell. From its forehead grew a twisted horn, much like Ripto’s own. To complete the nightmarish image, its long jaws housed a jumbled mess of fangs and tusks. Ripto could only imagine how much of him there would have been left had the attack succeeded. Seeing Gulp and the lava lizard at a standoff was truly like witnessing a clash of giants. Ripto couldn’t help but feeling very small and insignificant. More so than usual.

Empty handed with his magic scepter long lost, he was helpless against this adversary. So he resorted to doing the only thing he was good at.

“Gulp! Finish it off! Kill it! KILL IT!”

Gulp didn’t need any second command to motivate him further. He swung his horned head into the side of the lava lizard once more, except this time the creature came prepared for his onslaught. With nimble hands, it grasped Gulp by the jaws and bit down his neck, more to catch the quadruped off guard than to do lethal harm. Gulp roared and shook his head frantically, foam flying from the edges of his mouth.

“Behind you, BEHI--!”

Ripto’s cries were in vain, as the massive red lizard shifted and chomped down on Gulp’s back, away from his victim’s reach, and sunk his hellish teeth deep into the green dinosaur’s rind. Gulp’s roars turned into howls that shattered the dead silence of the desert. Using all of its strength, the predatory dinosaur took advantage of the moment and pushed Gulp onto his side. Gulp flailed with his clumsy legs in the air, kicking someone who was out of reach, his mouth foaming and eyes tearing. The lava lizard slowly released his bite with a shrilling wheeze, fresh blood running between tusks and fangs, dripping down on Gulp’s leafy green skin.

Ripto couldn’t look away. Being a predatory dinosaur himself, he knew what was coming next. His companion’s vulnerable underbelly was dangerously exposed for the lava lizard and it would only take moments before a chunk of flesh would be pulled from his chest. Gulp would be eaten alive and Ripto would stand there and watch. Until the lava lizard wanted dessert.

There was really nothing but one option at this point. Ripto inhaled through his nose, puffing himself up like a bird ready to fend off a much bigger rival, and let out the loudest and most fearsome war cry he could ever muster. Then he leapt forward as nimbly and fast as he could, ignoring the tough resistance of sand and grain under his feet, dashing towards Gulp, up over his fallen body and jumped -- claws out, fangs bared -- against his enemy.

When Ripto fell into the pool of lava in Winter Tundra, he remembered that the impact had hurt a bit. But the actual sinking had strangely enough not been that intensely painful as one would imagine. That said, it wasn’t by any means a pleasant experience. His whole body was assaulted with what felt like a million needles that pricked him just at the surface, never truly going under the skin but still causing him plenty of discomfort. The suffocating, however, felt oddly… nice. Relieving, in a way. It felt like a warm hug that embraced him from the inside. He didn’t panic. His mind just slowly wandered off. He didn’t think of the dragon that did this to him. Nor did he think about how small and insignificant he was. Sinking into the lava, he felt bigger, somehow. Maybe even stronger. He couldn’t remember for how long he drifted, lost in oblivion, until all those millions of needles all at once decided to

PIERCE HIS SKIN.

Ripto gasped and filled his lungs with the dusty desert air. But it felt like his lungs never filled up completely. The lava lizard had seen the small dinosaur’s attack miles away, and simply snapped at Ripto, locking him shut in his jaws. Pointed teeth chewed Ripto’s skin and that warm, familiar feeling bubbled up inside of him. But that was only for a second. The lava lizard spun around and flung Ripto effortlessly, but with great force, into the crag horn first. Ripto’s mind went black the moment his head hit the rock.

***

When Ripto woke up again, the air was quite cool. So was the cavern floor he found himself laying on. The contrast from the searing heat was relieving and the air felt much easier to breathe. Ripto’s mind begun wandering back, but his body was still paralyzed, spread out in the darkness of wherever he was. After a minute or so of doing nothing, Ripto had found himself to have let out a monotonous moan ever since he woke, which he ended with a masked cough. Self-aware, but still laying flat on his back with limbs spread out, he scanned what parts he could of his surroundings with half-closed eyes. All he could see was naked rock hidden in the faint light. He slowly turned himself over in an attempt to sit, but vertigo got him immediately and the tiny dinosaur slumped back on the ground nose first. Ow. Something stung him. He opened his eyes and gently raised his head. Some sort of sticky twig was stuck to his delicate snout. He shook his head fast, but that only made him dizzier and the little branch only seemed only to attach more.

“Argh, what the-!”

Furiously, he clawed at his own face in an attempt to free himself of the nuisance. That’s when he noticed that the twig was covered in -- what he assumed to be -- tiny thorns. More enraged than his energy levels should allow, he grabbed the twig from his face with both hands and ripped it off like an old, glued up band aid. Ripto grunted out loud and grinned in anguish, his eyes tearing up. He threw the prickly branch as long as he could muster, only to notice that it was still attached to his hand after the throw.

“Oh, come ON!”

After shaking his hand frantically up and down and back and forth, the little piece of plant finally let go and soundlessly hit the cavern floor. Ripto used his free hand to rub his eyes while cussing under his breath. Blinking back his focus, still a bit wobbly, he tried to regain his balance. It was when he scanned his new home once more that he noticed something odd at the center of the room, a faint shimmer and a very familiar fragrance. Spreading his eyes wider, slit pupils dilating, he had to stare for a good moment to make sure his senses didn’t betray him. There was a smooth depression in the rock which almost looked like it was handmade, and it seemed to be filled with clear, fresh--

“Water!”

Ripto waited no longer. Endless days of thirst with nothing to quench himself but dry, rough sand caught up with him and before he knew it, he plunged himself at the water source, stuffing his whole face into the craggy bowl, not drinking but rather devouring the water inside. He even swallowed gulps through his nose, but he didn’t care, he wasn’t going to stop until every last drop was gone. He would soon find out, however, that the container was somehow refilling itself from the bottom through a pipe-like tunnel that went through the stone, where it must have originated in a freshwater spring, like an oasis. Grabbing the rocky water bowl with both hands, he pulled his head up from the much needed drink and gasped for air, as he caught up in the moment and forgot that dinosaurs can’t breathe underwater. Then he just stood there, silently staring at the water surface, watching as the liquid slowly filled up the small basin. That was the first time in a very long time he had seen his own reflection. He couldn’t tell if the reflected image looking back at him was distorted because of the bubbling water gurgling up from within the depths of the cave. Every part of him seemed to boil, bubbles rising up from under the surface, as if they tried to break free from inside of his skin. A part of his jawline had ripped open, revealing his red gum and sharp teeth beneath. His eyes looked more like dull, scratched up glass beads than real organs. The crooked tip of his horn was missing. The point where it had broken cried brown tears of dried blood.

As the water came flowing back, so did Ripto’s senses and his body woke anew, piece by piece. With it returned the aching of his head, torso and limbs, and the painful memories that accompanied every part. He could feel a distinct stabbing in his chest and with it came the memory of almost being bitten in half by a giant monster. Ripto clenched his small chest with his hand. And noticed-- that it was sticky. Blood? No, this wasn’t it. Looking at his fingers, sniffing, then carefully licking the alien substance with the tip of his forked tongue, he figured it must be some sort of sap. Gasping, he took another look into the water mirror. The tip of his horn was also clogged with the brownish glue, different from the streaks of dried blood that ran down along it. It was almost as if it had been applied there deliberately. Ripto turned around, touching all over his small frame with quick, clawed fingers. There, another lump of sap on his right shoulder, and, oh, it was even on his back too, at the place where the lava lizard’s teeth had pierced his skin. There was even some on his kneecaps and elbows, easily noticeable through his torn attires. Dancing around the room in this curious manner, Ripto misplaced his foot on something that made a cracking noise.

“Ow! What on- YEAGH!”

He had stepped on the prickly twig that was stuck in his face just before he had found the water. Skipping up and down on one foot while swearing excessively, he tried to pull off the unrelenting plant now attached to the underside of one of his feet. While doing so, he noticed that the surface of the cavern floor wasn’t all cold stone. There were leaves. Plenty of them. A pile of it was arranged as bedding, which Ripto must have woken up on. After having forced off the prickly brush and sent it flying a good few meters, Ripto brought one of the leaves up close to his nose and sniffed it. Its scent had a distinguished familiarity to the twig and sap. Could this be-

“Catbat claw?”

Ripto raised an eyebrow. He was indeed familiar with this plant. Dinosaurs, critters and humans alike had used this brushy desert plant as a medical complement since the beginning of time. It grew sparse and only in inhabitable places, but he remember that they always kept some at home when he was a child. It was named after those pesky animals because the thorns were needle sharp and slightly curved and once they got hold of you, they wouldn’t let go. The thorns of course didn’t possess any medical properties, but the leaves did wonders as pain relievers, and the sap could be used to help stop bleeding and speed up the coagulation process. Furthermore, it covered up the smell of blood which could attract other, bigger monsters.

The handmade water basin and leaf bed, the roomy cavern, the Catbat claw -- Someone had saved Ripto and brought him here. Someone was nursing him back to health. But who? Had Crush found him? Ripto looked up. The cavern was dark, but he could still make out a rugged ceiling. Had his horn not be broken off at the top, he would have barely been able to stand straight in the innermost corner of the cavity where he woke up. Past the water bowl in the center of the room, the cave widened as well as the ceiling got higher, but it was still much to small for Crush, or Gulp for that matter, to fit. Besides, Ripto though, Crush was dumb as a doornail. He would never know about the Catbat claw, or be able to apply it as delicately with those huge hands of his. Crush was good at crushing, not nursing, or cooking, or anything at all for that matter.

“And it’s all because of him I’m in this awful mess,” Ripto whispered to himself through clenched teeth.

The thought escaped him immediately as a scraping noise could be heard from the cave’s entrance. Ripto flinched and quickly looked in the sound’s direction. The light outside was dim and cold, and whatever source illuminated the outside world just barely made it possible to distinguish the outlines of the cavern mouth. He stood still for a good few moments. Then the noise stopped. Ripto’s heart pounded fast against his tiny ribcage, and despite trying to stay unnoticable with teeth tightly pressed together, heavy breathing from his nose would betray him. But silence had laid a blanket over the cave and that perked Ripto’s curiosity. Slowly, he tiptoed towards the entrance gap of the cave. He stuck his nose out first, then carefully the rest of his face, eyes deadly focused forward, as if balancing on a tightrope over a canyon. The air against his face hit him as chilly, but not freezing. He cautiously examined his surroundings. Instead of seeing desert sand or dusty, empty plains ahead and around him like he thought he would, he saw more vertical rocks to each side. His gaze climbed down the rock’s surface. There were even more rocks, and it went on for as far as his vision could reach. The air lay completely still and the silence bounced between the high cliff walls. Was he truly up in the mountains, the very mountains he thought he had seen before while on Gulp’s back? Then he looked up. It was night. He didn’t see the moon. But he saw a vast sea of stars. Ripto had always enjoyed nighttime with the twinkling and sparkling of millions and billions little stars. But this was something else entirely. The stars here were drowning the black vastness of the universe, illuminating the sky with whites and yellows, blues and reds. He could hardly even make out any common constellations, because between every zodiac there were countless tiny specks merging into one another, making the ocean of stars more like one enormous celestial body. It was mesmerizing. He may have felt very small that night, but he also felt very alive.

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

A Small, Mad World - Chapter 1: Agony (Negan Fic Collab - Third Person )

Summary: Jesse’s life plan was pretty straight forward, go to college, get a degree, teach, marry, reproduce, die. She had pretty much done the first half, but she’d fallen for the wrong man, hadn’t had a kid as of yet (who would though?), and well, on her knees as she was, Jesse thought she was about to die. Maybe the plan wasn’t that far off... 

Characters: Jesse (oc), Negan, Lucille, Carl Grimes, Daryl Dixon. 

Warnings: none, this is pretty tame. 

Author’s note: Thanks @i-am-negan-trash, for being a patient beta with me and my spanish formatted english. You are amazing! I’m finally delivering this collab’s first chapter. Don’t forget to visit @writing-dead if you want to read up the first person group collab!

 (gif credit)

•   •   •    •   •   •    •   •   •

Agony

Jesse missed the old times.

Yeah, she struggled a bit, but everyone struggled back then whether it was economy, health or education or all three, people didn’t have it easy.

It wasn’t easy now either.

Burrowing between the covers she had put over her trusty sleeping bag, Jesse shut her eyes and covered her ears. However, the moans of the undead were playing like an old recording inside her brain.

Fuck, I hate them. Jesse thought.

Life wasn’t perfect before the dead started walking, yeah, but Jesse was as happy as she could be. She had a tiny house, a tiny car, she loved her job and everything about it. Jesse missed her students, her coworkers, the school…

Did she fall asleep?

•   •   •

“Hey! Yeah, you! What the- what are you doing in the hall?” a deep, booming voice called. Jesse figured the man was calling for her because the hall was deserted and it was class time, so she turned around.

“Excuse me?” Jesse asked, trying to pull an innocent tone. Oh…he was tall. No, he wasn’t that tall; she just wasn’t wearing heels because it was her first week and she was already exhausted, being called in the middle of the year for someone’s maternity leave.

“Who are you?” the professor -Jesse thought he should be a professor- walked up to her. He had a frown on his face. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m professor Dawson.” Jesse told him. He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m the substitute history teacher.”

The frown became a pensive expression and then morphed into a radiant grin.

“You’re in for Mary?”

Jesse nodded, not resisting the urge to tap her shoe on the linoleum of the hall, unable to forget the maps she was carrying for her next lesson.

His big, dark eyes widened in surprise when he noticed her burden and his cheeks colored a bit.

“Shit, sorry! Let me help you.” He offered, taking some of the maps from her arms. “Name’s Negan, by the way.”

Jesse had heard that name.

“You’re the P.E. professor?” She smiled.

“Why yes, I am!” Negan said, beaming at Jesse.

“Aren’t you a bit too stocky?”

He laughed loud and patted her back.

“You’re gonna fit right in.”

• • •

A loud, barking sound broke into her dream and Jesse opened her eyes.  

Dawn was breaking.

Time to move.

Jesse rolled inside her covers, stretching her muscles before going about gathering her equipment.

Her stomach was growling and she felt ravenous. Jesse knew her situation was getting desperate. Whatever she had gathered, it was becoming stale, and the longer she travelled, she found it more difficult to find anything. Travelling alone was dangerous, but she didn’t dare look for groups of people. For Jesse, that was the most dangerous.

Not long ago, she’d followed a railroad track and found a sign about how a placed called Terminus was receiving people. Jesse was not on board with it; basic latin knowledge and a sense of dread kept her away.

At first, her intention had been to stay in Atlanta, but the place had been a mess, already crawling with infected refugees and ghouls, so she made her way through the city until she ran out of gas.

A year ago.

According to the road signs, she was three hundred miles away from the border of West Virginia.

Jesse wanted to cry as soon as she thought about it. Her plan was to go to Canada, above the snow line, where the dead ones were slower or frozen, but she still had to go across to West Virginia, Ohio and Michigan. Then, crossing the border could be another problem, one she wasn’t ready to face.

After midday, Jesse started to hum, trying to cheer herself up with whatever song she could remember from better times.

• • •

Jesse sat at the table after placing the salad Lucille had given her.

Negan had told her that his wife was amazing, but Jesse had never expected a dinner invitation.

They were sitting around the little table that Lucille had in the kitchen.

“Why dine in that big dining room if it’s just the three of us, right?” Lucille had joked.

“Tell me, Jesse, this dork husband of mine ever bother you?”

Jesse laughed when Negan whined.

“Doll, I’ll have ya’ know I’m a perfect gentleman.” He told his wife with a lightly admonishing tone.

“Negan is an amazing colleague, Lucille.” Jesse said, “A perfect gentleman too. We deal with some rowdy kids.”

“Damn, I’m glad I never went into high school teaching.”

The night had been great and Jesse had a great time talking to Lucille. ‘Just us girls talking’, she’d said. And Jesse had loved the dynamic and how understanding Lucille was.

So, she felt like an asshole for having a crush on her husband.

• • •

The water had gone stale.

Jesse was feeling the desperation now; the Capital was still far away from where she was, and the expanse of woods seemed to be eternal in every direction.

Had Jesse seen reason, she would have called herself stupid, but she was ravenously hungry, dehydrated and alone.

“It’s just a security measure.” a woman said.

Similar hums of agreement reached Jesse’s ears, and she moved towards the sound of leaves being crushed under feet.

When the sound of steps started to fade, Jesse screamed for help, but only a murmur left her dry lips.

“Help!” she persisted, relishing the pain in her vocal cords.

• • •

Carl heard the thud of a body fall, followed by some metallic clinking and a groan that sounded dead enough for him. Cocking the gun he had in his hands, the young Grimes walked slow, watching for the dead.

A big backpack was crushing a body onto the ground, but the body wasn’t moving or producing any sound, as a biter would.

Carl doubted his instinct a few seconds before holstering the gun in his pants and turning the ‘body’ on its back.

It was a woman, and though she looked like she had seen better days, Carl knew she was definitely alive.

Her lips were moving too and Carl leaned onto her to listen to her words.

“W-water,” she muttered, raspy and almost pained.

“Dad! DAD!”

• • •

Jesse swallowed hard as the clearing went completely silent.

The jarring sound of the RV door opening made her shut her eyes, bracing for whatever destiny awaited them all. Daryl’s hand around hers made Jesse’s breath slow a bit.

“Pissin’ our pants yet?”

Jesse opened her eyes wide, feeling all air escape her body. It wasn’t possible.

“Oh boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close.”

• • •

Negan accepted her hug and the little packed lunch Jesse had cooked that morning.

“Is she okay?” Jesse asked shyly, not wanting to look at the emaciated figure that occupied the bed.

“She fell into a coma yesterday.” The tears in Negan’s voice made Jesse’s throat tighten. “Docs say she won’t wake up.” A heart wrecking sob shook Negan’s considerable frame.

“They want me to disconnect her, Jess.”

• • •

Jesse swallowed her surprise and looked up.

She knew she looked different after such a long time; her hair was different, as was her body. Even her skin had changed. Jesse was a new person in a new world.

A long-forgotten lesson came back to her mind when she looked into those dark, dark eyes.

In this world, dog eats dog.

And Jesse had the sinking feeling that she had just become prey.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tag list: @i-am-negan-trash, @annablack1102, @callydile, @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes, @dusty-cookie, @pseudonymfox, @rasax45, @lupienne, @ibelongtonegan, @negansdirtygirl22, @genevievedarcygranger.

[sterekloveaffairs]

Torn - Castiel (Part 1)

Author: sterekloveaffairs

Ship: Castiel x reader

Warnings: blood, angst, injury, swearing

Word Count: 2.161

My hair was sticky from the blood -don’t worry, not mine- and I tried not to limp too much on my sprained ankle. This time it had only been one vampire, miles and miles away from his nest, but I had to admit he was very… persistent. I was looking forward to a long, hot shower and then I’d go to bed, even if it was only three in the afternoon. I had been awake for nearly 48 hours, so I could use a little nap. And then tomorrow, I’d see what the universe would throw my way.

 My body jerked up, and it took me a few seconds to realise that it was my phone that had rudely interrupted my sleep. I let out a sigh and put the knife back under my pillow. Hey, what can I say, it’s a reflex. What idiot would call me at… Oh, 7pm. My head was pounding, and for once that was not caused by a reasonable amount of alcohol, but simply by a serious lack of sleep. I groaned and answered my phone, without even looking at the number.

“What?”

“Y/N?” I immediately sat up straight in the bed, kicking the sheets off.

“Dean?” This was the last voice I ever expected to hear. I hadn’t heard of him in a year, and I firmly believed that I never would get another call of him.

“Hi, sweetheart. I need to ask you a favour.” He sounded serious, and within seconds I had jumped out of bed, put the phone on speaker and started getting dressed.

“Sure, anything.” I knew he would never call me without a good reason, and I got chills when I remembered that he had tried to live a normal life. The fact that he gave me a call now, could only mean that there was serious trouble.

“How soon can you be at Bobby’s?” I stuffed all my belongings in my bag and put on my shoes.

“By midnight, just finished up a hunt. Dean, what’s going on?” I grabbed my car keys from the table and slammed the door behind me to hurry to my truck, my phone clenched between my shoulder and cheek.

“It’s Sam. He’s back.”

 Despite the seething pain in my ankle and the not even nearly sufficing amount of sleep I had, I was wide awake during the drive. The engine was roaring and I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins. Sam was back. That was all Dean had told me, and all he wanted to say on the phone. My mind was racing, I could not wrap my head around it. Sam had been locked inside Lucifer’s cage, how could he be back? Were they even sure that it was really Sam? And if it was him, how the hell did he get out? For a moment, I suspected Dean to have made another deal with whatever obscure creature he could find, but then again, Dean had promised he wouldn’t do that. He went to Lisa’s, and he had turned his back to his past. But really, was it realistic for me to expect Dean to just leave his brother to burn in hell, locked up with Lucifer and Michael? That wasn’t like Dean at all.

The last few miles started to weigh down on me, and I had already kicked off my boot to relieve the pain in my ankle. That bloodsucker had given me a hard time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I broke a few bones. When I finally saw the dark shadows of Bobby’s scrapyard appear, I nearly cried tears of happiness. It felt like home, and it was only then that I realised how much I had missed Bobby. I didn’t even try to put my shoe back on, if the dark purple swelling was telling me anything, it was that I should either ice it first and wait for it to go down, or find a bigger boot. My truck creaked loudly when I swung the door open, and even louder when I shoved it shut behind me. No time to take anything but the weapons I had on me. I hobbled up the steps to Bobby’s porch, and I swung the door open without even thinking. The guns swinging in my direction, feel as good as coming home. I smile and raise up my hands.

“Relax boys, I thought I was invited,” I say with a smirk. Bobby walks towards me, faster than his age could have you thinking and the next thing I felt was the expected splash of holy water in my face. I wiped my eyes and threw my arms around Bobby, and we both forgot about the silver check.

“It’s good to see you again, Bobby,” I said, “It’s been too long.”

“You too, kid.” I let go of him, and I saw Dean raising his eyebrows and staring at my foot.

“I know I asked you to hurry, but you could have stopped to pick up your other boot, you know.” I rolled my eyes and hugged him too. His grip was tight, as if he was afraid I would disappear.

“Are you okay?” Bobby asked. Once Dean had mentioned it, it was hard for the older man to ignore my obvious injury.

“Yeah, nasty vamp, that’s all,” I could tell that Bobby was about to argue, but then I noticed the man who it was all about. He was standing in the corner, and I couldn’t really identify the look in his eyes.

“Sam?” I asked, “Is it really you?” He smiled at me, and it didn’t take me two seconds to cross the small distance between us and wrap my arms around his neck. The hug felt uncomfortable, but maybe that’s what I should’ve expected after not seeing him for a year. He did hug me back, and it felt good to have him so close to me again. Whenever I was feeling down, Sam was always the one to comfort me. Dean was more the pat-on-the-back-and-awkward-there-there-mumbling kind of guy.

“How did you get out of that mess?” I mumbled into his flannel while his big hands rubbed my back.

“I don’t know,” he said. I pushed my hands against his chest and frowned while I looked up at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I just don’t know. I don’t know who did it, or why.” I squinted my eyes, I couldn’t quite say what it was, but there was something about the way he was talking, that was different. But maybe that’s what hell did to someone. I know what it had done to Dean. And Sam had been locked up with two pissed off angels, so I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like. But there was something else. Bobby was way too relaxed with all this. Dean just seemed to be happy his brother was back, but Bobby? The Bobby Singer I knew would have locked Sam up for days, trying to be a billion percent sure that it wasn’t some sick doppelganger. And yet, Sam was standing there, and Bobby had his back turned towards him.

“How long have you been back?” I asked sharply. Dean opened the freezer and took out a bag of ice, but when he wanted to give it to me, I pushed him away.

“How long, Sam? Answer me!” Sam swallowed and looked at his brother.

“A year,” he finally said. A year. A whole god damn year. Sam Winchester had been walking around this whole time I was grieving for him, every day I woke up and felt this pain in my chest.

“And what, you lost my number?” I snapped, “what the hell is wrong with you?” I wanted to punch him, kick him, hurt him, but as soon as I took a step forward, Dean pulled me back and pushed me down into a chair.

“Sit down, damn it!” He yelled before sitting down next to me and holding up my leg, making me wince when he forcefully pressed down the ice on my ankle. The cold sensation was almost painful, but I knew I’d be grateful when my foot had gone numb, because honestly, it hurt like a mother fucker.

“But Dean, he never told me that- Wait a second, you never told me either!” I slapped his arm, he glared at me.

“Because I didn’t know,” he grunted. My jaw dropped and I knew my eyes were about the size of the wheels under my truck.

“When did he tell-“

“Yesterday, okay.” Dean was obviously not pleased, and let’s be honest, who would be? I just couldn’t believe that Sam never told his own brother that he was back. How could he have done that? I haven’t seen Dean in a year, but the last time I saw him, he was a broken man. He was in agony, and Sam just let him suffer. I glanced at Bobby, and he definitely knew for longer than a day.

“What about you, old man?” I snarled.

“I went to Bobby when I got back,” Sam said softly. Bobby was squinting his eyes at me, and I knew I was challenging him with the way I spoke to him. I didn’t give a rat’s ass. He should have told me.

“And none of you even thought of picking up a god damn phone and call me?”

“You were going to tell Dean,” Bobby said.

“Of course I would tell Dean! I am absolutely stunned that you guys didn’t, how could you? Dean is your brother, Sam, he was devastated when you were gone, and-“

“And he had finally gotten away!” Sam barked. Sam had never, ever, yelled at me. And it hurt me a lot more than I thought it would. Dean had yelled at me plenty of times, so had Bobby, and hell, I yelled at the three of them more than I remembered. But Sam? Sam never yelled at me. I hated myself when I felt my throat clench, and I turned myself away from the youngest brother.

“Dude,” Dean mumbled. I ignored the look he gave me, because I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, and I most definitely didn’t want Dean to see the hurt in mine.

“Sorry. It’s just… Dean was out. He was living a normal life.”

“We wanted to keep it that way,” Bobby added.

“And I get that. But that didn’t really work out, now did it? Considering the fact that Dean called me and now we’re all just sitting here again, except for Cas.” By the time I realised what I had said, none of them were paying attention anymore. Cas. Was he still gone too? I was wondering about him. I didn’t even know if he was still alive…

“Dean? What’s with all the yelling?” A woman was coming down the stairs, and by the way she glanced at the hands that were softly stroking my leg, I could tell that this was probably Lisa.

“Lisa, this is Y/N,” he said, not even realising that sitting this close to me might be a reason for many women to get upset. Lisa’s face softened, and she smiled at me.

“Dean told me a lot about you,” she said, before looking at the ice pack and walking to the counter to make a cup of tea, “are you hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle, nothing that will kill me,” I said. I was feeling kind of proud that Dean had told her about me. After all, we had been hunting together for years, even before Sam joined his brother again. We had saved each other’s asses more than we could count, and I trusted Dean with my life.

“Yeah, if I had known you were hurt, I wouldn’t have called you,” Dean mumbled. I glared at him, slapped his arm again.

“Just because I haven’t bust your brains out yet doesn’t mean I won’t still do it,” I hissed.

“Dean is right, you have to get better first,” Bobby said. I rolled my eyes.

“Guys, I didn’t even feel it until I was halfway down here,” I said (obvious lie, but hey, lying is part of the job), but when Dean quickly removed the ice pack and poked my skin, I flinched.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/L/N,” he muttered before putting the ice back in place.

“Why did you call me anyways? Why are you not in your white picket fence house living a normal life?” Dean frowned.

“There’s stuff going on, weird stuff. And with Sammy coming back, well, I figured I could use your help.”

“Good thinking, Winchester,” I smirked. Lisa chuckled, before giving a cup to Dean and going back upstairs with her own. I bit my lip not to laugh, and Dean frowned.

“What?”

“Really, Dean? Tea?”

“Shut up.”

[writevswrong]

FANFIC * NESSIAN * PART SEVENTEEN

Nessian Part Seventeen by L.J. LaFleur

Cassian:

The Night Court forest was vast, pines for hundreds of miles. It was one of our greatest defenses. Even with a compass or magic, foreigners would still lose their sense of direction. But now, standing here, it was haunting me. These woods that I grew up in, that I loved—were tainted by the screams of Nesta.

I released myself from my brothers, stepping forward with great effort. I bit down on my chapped lips; trapping the cry that threatened to escape.

I had been through worse, I reminded myself. Split open on one battlefield only to be torn apart on another, but I made it. Each time, I had fought through the hurdles; dripping with sweat and blood stained but victorious nonetheless.     

Scanning over everything, from the surrounding pines to the ancient boulders, I was unsure of where to focus first.

Breathe…Rhys pushed into my mind.

I looked over my shoulder, giving him a short nod as I inhaled. It felt like an arrow to my chest as her scent barreled through me.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta…

The whispers creeped in; haunting reverberations grew louder as I searched for clues to her disappearance.

I did a double take, my stomach spinning as I saw her. She was still, a pillar of perfection; a tear streaming down her cheek. It was the same hopeless expression she had made on the battlefield not too long ago. I stepped forward, arms outstretched…but she was gone.

Stars dimly lit the forest floor, her pack still on the ground several feet away. Every step was an effort, a brutal and bloody battle in itself. As my brothers charged forward, I held out my hand to stop them.

I can’t risk your health any further, Rhys clawed at my rising mental shields.    

I released my held breath, the movement felt like the bones in my wings had snapped again. Shit.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta…

I shook my head, ridding my ears of her name. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pushed the image of her out of my mind. I needed to focus on finding her, on getting her back.      

Cassian, Rhys uttered. An obsidian talon tapped against my shield, this wasn’t your fault.  

It didn’t matter what he said, not when all I could hear were her repeated screams. Echoes of her desperation, her despair. They flooded into me, cracking into my skull like a dull battle ax.

I should have been there--here. One step forward and another and another, until I reached her belongings.

Kneeling on my left knee, my trembling hands clasped onto her leather satchel, “you didn’t take them?” I gripped tighter as I breathed in her intoxicating scent, my palms steadying.

Az brushed his hand through his black hair, a nervous habit, “we received word that you were waking up.”

I inhaled the frosty air; her scent suffocating me. A blade slicing me in two as I swallowed the lump in my throat. I looked upwards, glaring at the stars that were supposed to protect her—the dazzling eyes that see all, but do nothing. I wobbled forward, nearly collapsing if it weren’t for their quick reflexes.

Rhys and Az remained quiet, pulling me up to my feet. I could smell the escalating fear, the overpowering scent that boiled my blood. It was a common smell during war. Fear would seep out of your pores, enemies smelling you before you even neared the field of battle.

Hundreds of years, countless of souls. But none of that could prepare me for the scars that Nesta left in her wake.

Carefully, they released me again, believing I was steady enough to stand on my own. I began walking, heading towards the nearest boulder for a better vantage point.

“Has there been any word?” I asked out loud, my jaw tightening as I moved even slower than a moment ago. They remained silent, I peered over my shoulder as they shook their heads.

I should have been there. I could have protected her. If she had told me, if she had just said she needed space or time. I would give her that. If she had just said the words...

“We’ll find her…I promise,” Rhys finally spoke through the daunting silence. He lifted his hand, winnowing her leather bag to where I halted in agony. “Take a look again, maybe we missed something.”

Scavenging through her items, I nearly tore apart her satchel. My breathing became erratic as I found absolutely nothing of use to find her. I crumbled to my knees, unable to stand any longer. Bracing my war-scarred palms onto the Earth’s floor, the frustration crushing into me.

“Rhys is right, we’ll find her,” Azriel assured, his marred hand resting on the hilt of Truth Teller.

I shook my head, “It was bad enough that she ran away, but then…” The burning in the back of my throat increased, “…then to find out she was taken…”

I chucked her satchel into the tree directly across from me, leaving a damaged spot behind. Bark and pine combs fell, the branch above nearly breaking in half from the impact.  

“Cassian, we will find her.”

My copper eyes brimmed with tears, pain slicing into my wings and spine. “I will not…” I studied the spot her belongings were once in. “I can’t lose…” I stopped speaking, distracted by an odd outline. A shape not of this court.  

As dark as it was, I could still see it. The familiar shape; my heart stopped.

I launched forward, my calloused hands fumbling as I sifted through the mess of rocks and pine combs.

“What is it?”

My brother’s voices blurred into one another. Tunnel vision increasing. My hazel eyes narrowed, fingers clasping onto the stem of a red oak leaf. I stilled as I sniffed the leaf, “Eris…” I seethed through clenched teeth.

Before my brothers could catch on, I roared. A deafening sound leaving my body, shaking the trees around us and the ground below. All I could see was this fucking leaf, all I could hear were her horrendous screams and all I could smell was Eris.  

Another roar escaped me, this time several octaves louder—a violent noise erupting through this world and the next. The stars above us trembled at my fury. Wrath and vengeance pouring out of me, suffocating the menacing darkness.

Nesta:

The ear-splitting noise echoed through the dungeon—abruptly waking me from a memory I had tried to forget. I braced my hands over my ears until the piercing sound died out. My eyes flashed to the exit, Eris had remained in the same position I had seen him last. 

“What was that?” I asked, my restrained hands dropping--balling into fists, fingernails cutting into my freezing palms.

The blazing torch danced brighter and brighter, illuminating the entire cell like a bonfire.

Eris smiled to himself, adjusting his head on the jagged stone behind him, “they found it.”

He sounded hopeful—relieved for some reason. The lines on his face relaxing to reveal a different person entirely.

I stared at him blankly. That noise, it must have come from a savage beast. It was deafening, loud enough to wake me--to force me to cover my pointy ears. Loud enough to shake the walls of my cage. I didn’t understand him but his cryptic sentence only peaked my curiosity, my fear.

“My clue, Nesta Archeron. And your salvation.”    

“What are you saying?”

Eris displayed a flaming dragon, letting the fire creature circle around his fingers. “I suggest getting some rest,” he studied his creation, “we’re going to have a long day tomorrow.”

I glared at him, hoping it would make his heart stop. Nothing. Eris didn’t fear me. A fearless prick. I didn’t expect that. After a few minutes, I gave up. Realizing that it would be useless to push him further.

“Thank you…” I whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“For what?” He asked, vanquishing the dragon with a burst of flames.

I softened my expression, clicking my tongue before admitting it, “for not looking.”

Eris nodded, his smile vanishing. What he thought, whatever was running through that deceptive brain of his—I only hoped he understood how thankful I was.  

I sunk back down, bending my elbow so I had a cushion to sleep on. Feyre’s lullaby floating off my tongue as I drifted back to sleep.

Cassian:

Rhys winnowed in front of me, his expression solid as the boulders surrounding us. “That’s impossible.” Violet eyes scanned over the leaf several times, his mind racing through scenarios while simultaneously communicating with the others.

“Look at it,” I held up the leaf, “it’s the Autumn Court’s symbol. It’s his fucking scent, Rhys.” Sweat dripped from my brow, a burning rage slowly releasing itself.

“The wards--we adapted them after the war. They were supposed to be impenetrable,”Az interjected, his voice breaking the tension between Rhys and I.

Ignoring both of them, I turned on my heel. I couldn’t winnow, I couldn’t fly. But it didn’t matter, I would sell my soul to the nearest witch if it meant reaching Nesta in time. “I’m going after her.”

The Night Court had a reputation for being the worst, the most despicable. But in all honesty, by the mother above, we were nowhere near as bad as the Autumn Court—as Beron and his sons.  

“No,” Rhys replied fervently.

My dark hair whipped around me as I snapped my head towards him.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, his guttural voice slicing into me, “I said, no.”

I growled, growing to my full size to match Rhys’ height.

“Cassian, let me at least look into it before we storm into another court’s territory. It’s crucial other court’s do not see our intrusion like how we saw Hybern’s.” Az stood in between, glancing at us—at our hands.

The world started spinning, the pounding pain pulsing through me. My eyelids grew heavier.

Rhys breathed out, stepping away to look at the stars. He sucked in a breath, deliberating as he counted the specks of silver above us. “Azriel is right,” he hesitated turning away from the sky, a drowning sadness glittering in his eyes as he focused on me. “We cannot risk getting into another war, especially now.”

My ragged breathing escalated the intensity of claws shredding my back. “If it were Feyre…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. Black spots spread throughout my vision, growing larger and larger as I stumbled forward. I clasped onto the red oak leaf, it was real—this was real and she was taken by the Autumn Court. By savages with untamed tempers and heavy fists.

“I will not let you down, brother,” Rhys replied as he slid his black talons into my mind, using little force to shut my eyes.

“No…” I gasped, I tried to hold on. To fight. But once my eyes closed, I was gone—sinking in a pit of darkness.

In case you missed the previous parts...

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX 

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN 

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

[kuriquinn]

Walk A Mile [7/?]

Cover & Disclaimer

Chapter Beta: None at the moment, but I’ll send it to my beta when she gets back from vacation. 

AN: So, this is a bit of departure from the usual format, but it’s kind of a time-skip. The first week of the swap, with a lot of things needing to be adjusted to hehe. I put a little bit of plot in places...but really, this is totally filler that I had too much fun writing :D Hope you enjoy reading it!

“Kakashi-sensei!”

SLAM!

The sound of a door being thrown open and hitting the wall yanks him from his dreams. Kakashi vaults upward and snaps, “Reinforce the barriers and send the first wave!”

The familiar surroundings of his living room come back to him, and his dream fades away. The panicked, slightly confused face of Sasuke Uchiha swims into view.

No, wait—not Sasuke. Sakura, he remembers. Must not have gotten enough sleep. Head’s still pounding…

“What is it, Sakura?” he mumbles—maybe; his words are rather slurred.

She frowns at him. “You sleep with your mask on?”

“Not usually,” he replies, rubbing at the scar on the left side of his face and squints up at her. “Is there an emergency, or do you just enjoy shouting yourself hoarse before sun-up?”

Sakura’s expression becomes pinched once more.

“I…have a…problem,” she reveals jerkily. 

“That’s remarkably self-aware.”

It’s possible the lack of sleep is affecting his normally easy-going manner.

Sakura draws her borrowed mouth into a thin line, emphasising her expression of utter agony, and glances meaningfully downward. It takes a beat before Kakashi follows her gaze, fixing on something in the southern hemisphere of her borrowed body. Once he does, her total panic makes sense.

A very dark part of him wants to laugh, if only at the absurdity of the whole situation, but Sakura would never forgive him for it. Instead, he schools his face into neutrality and says, “Go take a cold shower. It’ll help.”

Horror overtakes her obvious humiliation, probably at the notion of a shower, but it’s early and he’s exhausted and wouldn’t be doing her any favours sugar-coating things.

“Look, you have three options,” he yawns, falling back against the couch cushions. “Either take a cold shower, which you should do anyway because you’re beginning to stink, or you could wait it out. It’ll eventually go away. Or there’s the old-fashioned method…”

He trails off meaningfully. She doesn’t understand him immediately, but when she does, it looks like she might have a nosebleed.

“What the hell is your problem?!” she snarls. “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“Why, because you’re a girl, or because you’re a kid?” Kakashi challenges.

“Either! Both!” she yells in frustration. “And because this isn’t my body! Besides I’d never… I couldn’t—!” Her face is so flushed with blood now he’s surprised she’s still having a below-the-belt issue. She shoves a finger in his direction. “You’re a pervert, Kakashi-sensei!”

And then stalks away once again slamming the door behind her.

He winces.

And I thought it was just the boys I had to worry about property damage with, he thinks tiredly, curling into the couch and hoping he can get back to sleep.

SLAM!

The door is open once again, and he groans, pressing his face into the couch cushions.

If she does that the whole time she’s here, I’ll never get my security deposit back…

“Kakashi-sensei?” her tone is quieter this time, ashamed.

“What, Sakura?”

“Uh…where’s your washing machine?” she asks, in a tiny voice he would never have thought Sasuke capable of. “I might possibly…maybe…sort of have to do a load of wash.”

He cracks an eye open against the couch cushions. Why…?

“And, uh…do you by any chance have any other sheets?” she squeaks.

Kakashi groans, pulling the covers of his head.

Shit.

ナルト

Sakura paces back and forth in front of the chain-link fence of the usual spot, glancing around every now and then for some sign of Kakashi or Sasuke.

She’s not completely sure how she lost track of her teacher that morning, since they left from the same place. One minute he was behind her, and the next she heard him say he’d catch up, and when she turned around he was gone without even a puff of smoke.

As for Sasuke, he’s uncharacteristically late, and Sakura can’t help worrying.

What if he got caught by my parents? What if my mother says something embarrassing to him? What if Dad makes a really tasteless joke and Sasuke punches him? Oh, I’ll be in so much trouble when we switch back, and we’ll have failed Lord Third’s mission, and…

She inhales sharply and tries to clear her mind.

There’s nothing she can do about any of those things right now.

What she can do is stand here and wait for her teammates so that they can go to wherever Naruto is and make sure he and Condor haven’t killed each other yet.

Sakura tries really hard to just sit there and wait – to lean against the uncomfortable fence and meditate (or whatever it is Sasuke does when they’re waiting for the rest of their team to arrive in the morning). But she can’t stop fidgeting. Every few minutes she crosses her arms or shifts her weight or gives into the compulsion to check the very white, baggy shorts for signs of dirt or grease from the fence.

She starts to wonder if Sasuke wears white shorts just to show off how effortless he finds being a shinobi. As if he doesn’t even have to worry about getting dirty unless he feels like it. She always thought he was just naturally cool, but it might just be that Sasuke actually puts energy into it. It’s the only explanation she can come up with for how he always looks so unruffled, and yet twenty-four hours in his body she feels like a mess.

She’s sweating – is it just me, or is his body-temperature higher than mine? – and is hungry again, even though she ate all the leftovers from dinner the night before this morning.

And, of course, there’s the addition of an extra –

Her thoughts flounder for a moment, her cheeks turning red.

Appendage, she supplies, forcing herself to fight back the mortification and think of things in the same distant terms a doctor might. 

It’s not really working.

The point is, the new addition makes even walking feel utterly foreign to her, and that’s the absolute least of the problems associated with her new body.

When Sasuke finally does arrive, Sakura’s worried questions die on her lips as she takes in his rumpled, red-cheeked, veiny-eyed form.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she cries in lieu of any greeting, hands on her hips as she looks him over.

Her normally pristine hair is a tangled mess under his care, brushed in the front but a complete matted nightmare in the back. Sasuke’s borrowed cheeks are reddened by infinitesimal scratches, probably from a rough scrubbing with a cloth, and his eyes –

“You slept with my contacts in, didn’t you?” she hisses.

“I forgot, okay?” he barks, not sounding anything like his usual calm self even with the borrowed voice. “I don’t know how to take them out, or put them in for that matter, and until I do I’m not about to walk around bumping into things.”

“My vision’s not that bad!” Sakura snaps.

“Well, I had more important things to worry about,” Sasuke growls, eyes shifting from left to right to ensure they are alone. In a lower voice, he goes on, “I couldn’t find…where do you keep your…” He trails off, frustrated, and then tugs at something beneath the fabric of the tunic he’s wearing. She recognises the thick strap of a sports bra. “I was going to change this when I woke up, but the only ones I could find were…”

Realisation dawns on her, and warmth floods her cheeks too. “You dug through my underwear drawer?!”

“It’s not like I wanted to! Besides, from the look of them there’s no way to get the damn things on or off, at least with this one I can just pull it over my head!”

Sakura decides to take pity on him. “If you can’t find any sports bras in my drawer, you have to go down and check the laundry room. I wear them the most often because of missions, so they have to be washed out a lot. Maybe my mother did a load – wait.” She shoots him a sharp look. “Are you saying you put that thing on again this morning? It’s filthy!”

“I didn’t put anything on, I slept in it.”

“You’re not supposed to sleep in a bra!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” he counters. “I shouldn’t even be thinking about bras, let alone yours!”

“Say that a little louder, I don’t think they heard you in Kiri,” a familiar voice says, and a second later Kakashi materialises in a puff of smoke. “Yo.”

Sakura lets out a half-groan, half-wail of humiliation while Sasuke glowers at their teacher.

“So, who’s ready for training?” the jōnin asks mildly.

“I hate you,” Sasuke informs him, and Sakura nods in agreement.

ナルト

Naruto wakes to the sun streaming through a window right into his eyes.

With a groan, stretches and yawns, then freezes as his brain catches up with his current surroundings. He is in the wide-open living area of a farmhouse, perched on a makeshift bed of pillows and blankets. He remembers Captain Yamato offering them to him yesterday when he couldn’t get comfortable on the spare sleeping mat –

Because he has cumbersome wings and claws and the weirdly shaped body of an ostrich now.

“Aw, man, it wasn’t a dream!” he wails, throwing his head backward in frustration. “I thought for sure when I woke up all this would be fixed! Aw, man, this sucks…”

“How do you funny little creatures not break your necks in your sleep with all the tossing and turning you do?” Condor wants to know, sitting up on his own sleep pallet. He shakes his arm. “And why does my arm constantly feel like it’s got pine needles sticking into it?”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I slept standing up in a closet…”

“You both snore,” Yamato informs them with a yawn, also sitting up on his bedding.

Condor sets his hands on his hips in indignation. “I beg your pardon, I do no such thing!”

“Yeah!” Naruto pipes up. “And I couldn’t have snored because I didn’t sleep! So maybe it’s you that was snoring, you creepy faced weirdo!”

Yamato blinks at him, bleary eyed from waking, and then glances at Condor. “What’d he say?”

“He says your mother wears army boots.”

“Oi! I did not!”

A knock on the door interrupts the potential bloodshed, and after a sharp look in Naruto’s direction, Yamato goes to open it. Outside, the rest of Team 7 are standing on the landing; Kakashi expression is drawn and exhausted, while Sakura and Sasuke bicker with one another.

Whoa. Now that’s weird…

To an outside observer, it already looks odd to see Sasuke Uchiha haranguing Sakura Haruno, who is clearly trying to tune him out, arms crossed and face pulled into a scowl. It’s even odder because Naruto knows it’s actually the other way around – with Sakura raving at Sasuke – and that has never happened before.

Condor shivers.

“I don’t even know them that well, and that’s just unnatural,” he says.

Naruto nods. “Funny, though.”

“Sakura, Sasuke,” Kakashi says, putting an end to the very strange argument. The two of them glance up. “This is Captain Yamato. He’s going to be working with Naruto and Condor for the duration of this…situation.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sakura says, offering a shy wave.

Sasuke frowns and gives the man an appraising up-and-down look. Then he turns to Kakashi. “What’s so special about him? He doesn’t look like much.”

“Sasuke!” Sakura chides.

“Yamato’s Mokuton is going to be very helpful keeping the Nine-Tails under control,” Kakashi explains. “On that note – Condor, have you had any more trouble with the fox spirit?”

“Only in that I didn’t sleep at all last night trying to keep the thing from eating me,” the bird snorts.

“You big liar!” Naruto snaps. “You were snoring the whole night, remember? Stop making things seem more dramatic than they are! If I can’t hear the fox, you can’t hear the fox.”

“I’ve already told you the reason you can’t hear him is because you’re thick.”

Naruto bleats at him in wordless anger, and Kakashi clears his throat.

“Yamato can work with you on that a little then. Meanwhile, Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke – it might be best to revisit some basic skills today. Like taijutsu.”

“Are you seriously going to teach a bird taijutsu?” Sasuke deadpans.

“Don’t be like that, he’s still Naruto,” Sakura tells him. “I’m sure he can figure it out.” She smiles hesitantly at Naruto and wanders a little closer. “Hey, Naruto – are you going okay in there?”

He pulls away, shuddering. “No offense, but it’s really weird to have Sasuke look at me like that. No, scratch that, it’s not weird, it’s creepy.”

Sakura frowns in confusion and asks Condor, “What did he say?”

“He’s afraid you were going to kiss him,” Condor informs her with a straight face.

“You idiot bird!” Naruto bellows and vaults across the room, intent on destroying him. Condor, meanwhile, darts out of the way blowing raspberries, while Sakura and Sasuke begin to shout angrily at them both.

He is distantly aware of Yamato and Kakashi exchanging glances.

“Trade you?” they ask each other.

ナルト

When Sasuke returns to the Haruno household later, he is exhausted. Honestly, he doesn’t remember ever feeling this tired before.

Did Sakura not do any training before we switched bodies? These muscles feel like they’re on fire…

He’s barely got the energy to eat the meal Mebuki puts before him (he’s dimly relieved that there’s nothing sweet in it), and he must look as tired as he feels because Sakura’s parents don’t try to talk much with him.

There’s a minor moment of awkwardness afterward when Mebuki reaches over to feel his forehead – he jerks away before he can stop himself, but seeing her mouth can firm in suspicion, Sasuke mutters about having a bad headache.

“Got some mind grains sprouting?” Sakura’s father asks with gentle amusement, while Mebuki tells Sasuke to go up to bed and she’ll bring him some honeysuckle tea.

He trudges up the stairs and once again starts the laborious process to get ready for bed; he’s quicker about it today, once again leaving the lights off the whole time. He only turns them on again to take Sakura’s contacts out, having had her explain the process to him before he returned home.

These things come with containers, right?

That takes him longer to hunt down than he’d like, and the actual removal of the lens leaves him swearing and his eyes twitching in both reflex and annoyance.

Am I even going to be able to get the damned things on again tomorrow?

He waves it off as a future problem, squinting at Sakura’s reflection in the mirror. It’s blurred now, but as she said, not enough to make him blind.

Just annoying, he thinks as he stalks out of the bathroom, just like her.

ナルト

SLAM!

“Kakashi-sensei!”

He grabs his pillow and presses it over his face, groaning into it in dismay.

“Don’t kill her,” he mutters to himself, “Think of the paperwork.”

“I need you to go to Sasuke’s place and sneak in and get some things for me without anyone seeing you, it’s urgent!” she tells him, all panic and tension in her voice.

Kakashi shifts the pillow to one side, shooting her a bleary, exasperated frown with his one good eye. “Sakura…you’re literally walking around in his body. Go get whatever you need from his apartment yourself.”

“But…but I can’t go wandering around his house without him there!”

“Why not? He’s wandering around your house without you there.”

“Well…well even if I wanted to, I can’t exactly go now and I really, really need your help!”

Her bottom lip juts out, eyes wide and teary, and Kakashi thinks it’s just him being stunned that Sasuke could ever look so pathetic and helpless that has him sighing in agreement. “Fine.”

“Thank you!”

“But I’m only doing this the once,” he tells her, going back to press his face back into the pillow and cursing. “Damn it…only the second day…”

Sakura clears her throat. “And Kakashi-sensei?”

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

ナルト

“Ow!” Sakura cries, ducking an angry beak. “Naruto, stop – ow! I’m sorry!” She holds her hands over her head. “I wasn’t trying to kick you – ow! – I just overshot and you were – ouch! – in the way!”

Her teammate hisses at her, rearing up and flapping his wings at her.

 ナルト

“Let’s try this again,” Kakashi says wearily.

Sasuke scowls, but then dutifully pulls his face into a wide smile. The slight narrowing of Kakashi’s right eye tells him he has once again failed.

“This is ridiculous,” he complains, dropping the false visage.

“It was better,” his teacher offers, and when Sasuke raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs, “Okay, not really. We may be going about this all wrong.”

“If you try to tickle me I will stab you in the throat,” Sasuke informs him pre-emptively.

Kakashi ignores him. “What’s the first thing you notice about Sakura when she smiles?”

“It’s genuine,” Sasuke says immediately, surprising himself with how instinctive the answer is. He’s never really considered the question before, but he knows instantly that it’s true; Sakura’s smile is untarnished by darkness, anger or pain. “Happy.”

The word is foreign to him.

“Alright,” his teacher says. “That in mind, I’m going to ask you to do something difficult. And I know it’s difficult because I have to do it every day, too.” Sasuke shoots him a questioning look, abruptly curious, but Kakashi continues.  “Think back. To the last time you felt something like what Sakura feels. Think of happiness. Peace. Something that genuinely made you smile to see.”

“That doesn’t work for me,” Sasuke bites out through gritted teeth, because Kakashi knows full-well the last time he was happy about anything.

“Then work on it, because learning to smile might be your only saving grace in succeeding at this mission.” Kakashi straightens up. “I get that you have your goals, but the mark of a good shinobi is to compartmentalise their emotions.”

“I know this already.”

“Note that I say compartmentalise, not ignore. The more you ignore, the more builds up and the more likely you are to explode with all those pent-up feelings later. Or make stupid choices,” Kakashi goes on. “I really advise against stupid choices, because that gets people killed.”

“I advise against switching bodies,” Sasuke grumbles. “That gets people killed too.”

Kakashi blinks at him. “Did you just make a joke?”

ナルト

Naruto stares down at the large container in front of him, and then looks up at Yamato. “No.”

The jōnin sighs, unable to understand him, but clearly noticing the refusal.

“Come on, Naruto, you have to eat something. You’re not going to keep your strength out without eating healthy.”

Naruto glares at him. “I want ramen.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Ramen. I want ramen. Rah-men!”

“I want ramen, too,” Condor pipes up from where he’s watching the exchange.

“You’ve never even eaten ramen,” Yamato reminds him.

“I don’t care, I want it.”

Yamato sighs, shoulders slumping.

ナルト

 “Kakashi-sensei!”

SLAM!

“Sakura, if it’s related to food, bodily functions or laundry, I don’t want to hear it,” he tells his pillow.

“No, it’s…um, I think I broke the lid off your electric kettle and…I didn’t mean to, I swear! It’s just…I think I was holding it to tightly, but I didn’t realise, so…”

She trails off, and Kakashi sighs.

He has never pictured having children before, and living with Sakura – who he never in a million years imagined he would live with – has shown him the wisdom in that. It’s like dealing with a teenager and a toddler all in one.

“I’ll pick up a new one on the way home,” he tells her.

“…’Kay.”

Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about her taking all the hot water…

He feels little guilt at chuckling over that.

ナルト

“How do any of you guys walk properly with one of these?!”

ナルト

“What are you talking about, you don’t want any?” Mebuki demands, hands on her hips. “Anmitsu is your favourite.”

“I’m…watching my weight,” Sasuke mumbles uncomfortably.

“Oh no, none of that,” Sakura’s mother sniffs. “You know how I feel about that dieting nonsense, Sakura. If you’re going to be training so hard, you need to keep your strength up.”

“This isn’t exactly going to help with that,” Sasuke deadpans.

“Well, we can’t always be sensible,” Kizashi says. “Where would the fun in that be?”

They are both watching him now, and Sasuke winces, knowing he has to play along. Swallowing thickly, he takes a spoonful of the jelly dessert and just hopes he can keep it down long enough to throw off suspicion.

ナルト

“Get your butt out of my face!”

“Get your face out of my – oh for goodness sake, must you be so crass?”

“At least I’m not a sissy,” Naruto mutters as they continue their slow trek across the floor. “Now shut up before we get caught.”

“You two wouldn’t be trying to sneak out, would you?” a deceptively calm voice asks behind them.

Condor and Naruto freeze, and then very slowly turn around. There’s a click and a flashlight turns on.

Captain Yamato looms over them, the shadows making his face seem even more hollow than usual.

“It was his idea,” Naruto says immediately, shivering at the sight.

“My idea? Why would I want to sneak out of these lavish accommodations?” Condor asks in a high voice, and then points at Naruto. “He’s the criminal mastermind – not me!”

Yamato’s eyes narrow, and Naruto crack.

“I just want some ramen!” he sobs, throwing himself at the jōnin’s feet (or at least trying to, he still isn’t used to his knees bending backward.”

“What was that about me being a sissy?” Condor asks, contemptuous.

ナルト

“Sakura, if you don’t stop slamming the door in a panic every morning, I will take it off the hinges.”

ナルト

“Your biggest issue is that you’re used to a body that has mastered its ability to control its anger and impulses and channel it into other things,” Kakashi explains to Sakura, while in the background Sasuke impatiently ducks Naruto’s clumsy kicks. Several feet away, Yamato corrects Condor’s grip on a kunai. “Sometimes it seems as if you have a second self that filters all of that for you. When you first switched, you mentioned a voice in your head?”

“Yeah – well, sort of,” she says. “I mean…I always thought it was just my conscience of something.”

“I guarantee you, most people’s consciences aren’t loud enough to have a voice,” Kakashi says dryly. “Both your parents are genin?”

“Well…Dad’s a chūnin. Barely. But they haven’t been active since before I was born, and only because of the war,” Sakura explains.

“And your father’s family?”

“Isn’t from here,” Sakura says. “Mom is, though, but I don’t know much about her side of the family. Grandmother was a Konohako, so…”

“Ah,” Kakashi nods, recognising the term. It’s a surname given to illegitimate children whose legal parents won’t recognise them. “And not even an idea where that lineage came from?”

“I would have to ask my mother.”

“Which you can’t right now,” he sighs.

“And asking Sasuke to find out probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” Sakura agrees.

He’s not exactly tactful…

“Right…”

ナルト

“What the hell is an exfoliator?”

ナルト

“I was just thinking,” Naruto says, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness.

“Did it hurt?”

He snorts, side-eying the bird in his body. “Really? Nothing more creative than that?”

“It’s been a long day. Don’t worry, I’ll reach my stride soon enough.”

“Do you think maybe all this would be easier if we stopped giving each other a tough time and just tried to work together?”

The two of them slowly glance over at each other, sizing one another up. Then, in unison, their turns their backs on each other.

“Nah!”

ナルト

“Kakashi-sensei!”

He cracks one eye open, waiting for the slam of the door, and then smirks when he remembers that he took it off its hinges night before.

ナルト

“I don’t understand,” Sakura says, frustrated. “I mean, it completely defies logic!”

“I know,” Condor nods.

“It’s like…I would understand if I was looking at something…you know…but I’m not looking at anything. I was literally staring at the wall just now, noticing the way the paint is curling and – and it happens!”

“It’s an utterly rubbish system,” Condor agrees. “Obviously it’s faulty – I mean, I don’t even find your species appealing at all. But now I – ” He makes a face and looks at his lap. “Oh damn. It’s happening again.”

“Don’t draw attention to it!” Sakura hisses, pointedly looking away from him.

She notices Sasuke and Naruto standing over them, identical looks of horror on their borrowed faces.

“What?”

ナルト

Sasuke considers the long, wet locks of pink hair spilling down his chest and back, frowning critically.

Keeping all this clean is such a waste of time. If there wasn’t all this hair, I could be in and out of the shower in minutes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a pair of scissors sticking out of a first-aid kit.

ナルト

“I don’t care if you’re used to eating it to help digest your food – if I catch you using my mouth to eat sand, I will sit on you until you pass out!”

ナルト

“What do you mean, you still haven’t found anything?” Kakashi demands early one morning after skipping out on Sakura to visit the graveyard and then the Hokage’s office. He’s trying and failing not to sound exasperated. “It’s going on a week now.”

Inoichi shrugs apologetically. “We’re combing the records as fast as we can, but so far nothing.”

“And our investigations to the shrine have yielded no information either,” Lord Third says gravely. “Inoichi and I have read the Akimichi and Nara clans into the situation, however. Given their ancestors involvement in helping to seal away Noburo, it was thought they might have some insight that was perhaps…misplaced by the Yamanaka.”

“And has it?”

“Not yet.”

“Great,” Kakashi groans. “So what do I tell the kids?”

“Nothing,” Inoichi says. “As before, we’re looking into the matter. They’ll have to be patient.”

“Have you even met my team?”

ナルト

“He’s late.”

“I noticed.”

“He’s later than you. That never happens.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

Sakura glares at her teacher, wanting more than anything to punch him. She’s not sure if that’s just her annoyance or some inborn reflex that’s part of Sasuke’s body. Either way, she hopes Sasuke arrives soon to keep her from trying something so stupid.

“Oh.” Kakashi says suddenly, his visible eye widening a bit. It flits to Sakura, flashing with something that she’s tempted to call panic, even if she doesn’t know the reason for it. “Oh, fuck…”

“What?” she asks, following his gaze to the familiar figure of Sasuke in her body wandering toward them.

She has a few seconds of trying to figure out why his looks bother her today, and when she makes the realisation, it is as if the bottom of her stomach has dropped out. She goes absolutely still, barely aware of Kakashi’s continuing murmured curses.

“I would’ve been on time if your mother let me out of the house,” Sasuke complains to them in place of a greeting. The accusing explanation is as close to an apology as anyone has ever heard from him. “I had to wait until her back was turned.”

“I can see why she didn’t,” Kakashi blurts out, and then clears his throat when Sakura’s fists clench. “Now, Sakura…”

“My. Hair,” she seethes at Sasuke, eyes fixed on the messy, chin-length monstrosity that has replaced her lovingly grown-out hair.

“Just so you know, this is the opposite of blending in,” Kakashi informs Sasuke. “If Sakura’s parents weren’t suspicious before…”

“It’s fine,” Sasuke shrugs it off. “I said I saw it in a magazine and decided to try it. They seemed to buy it –”

“Are you kidding me?!” Sakura demands – but the sound comes out as a squeaky whine as Sasuke’s voice cracks.

“Stop that!” Sasuke snaps, looking around lest someone be walking by to hear. This just enrages her further.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?!” Sakura screams. “I gave you specific instructions and you – just – how – why – it – how dare you?!”

“It’s hair,” Sasuke tells her slowly, like she’s missing something important. “It was getting in the way, and making…washing more inconvenient.”

She’s too angry to even get embarrassed, can only sputter in response.

“It will grow back,” Sasuke goes, taking rare advantage of her incoherence. “Besides, you’re a shinobi, not a princess. You ought to concentrate on improving your battle techniques instead of your looks.” He shrugs. “It’s not like you grew it out for some important reason.”

Sakura opens her mouth and closes it several times.

She knows that he has a point about her hair – that keeping it long is an unnecessary hazard, that every lesson she’s ever had on proper gear and appearance stress the importance of short hair. That only the supremely talented shinobi keep their hair long, showing that they have no fear of it being an impairment in battle.

But at the same time, her hair was hers. It was important to her. And he not only disregarded her wish for him to take care of it, but he hacked it to pieced.

It’s the first truly horrible, mean-spirited act he has ever committed against her. He might be short with her, lack patience and encourage her by way of criticism, might offer her blunt truths which sting at first but which she slowly comes to see are meant to help her –

But he has never been intentionally mean or hurtful to her. And this…

This is a very personal insult, and he doesn’t care.

She can see that he doesn’t care, and this knowledge above everything else makes her suddenly desperate to make him understand.

ナルト

Sakura suddenly turns on her heel and marches off.

“Oh, this isn’t going to be good,” Kakashi mutters, indicating to Sasuke that they ought to follow her. Sasuke tells himself it’s because his teacher told him to, and not because the look in Sakura’s borrowed eyes just now filled him with a very sharp sense of unease.

If she notices them following her, she doesn’t say anything, and before long they come to one of the public training grounds. Several groups of young Academy students are spread out in the area, practicing throwing shuriken and kunai at targets nailed to the posts.

Sakura marches up to the large post right in the middle of all the groups and methodically brings out a few handfuls of shuriken.

“Huh,” Sasuke snorts as he and Kakashi come to a stop several feet behind her. “Now she wants to train?”

If I’d known all it took was to make her mad, I’d have done it ages ago.

“I seriously doubt that’s what this is,” Kakashi says tensely.

The words have hardly left his mouth when, once again methodical very deliberate, Sakura begins to toss the shuriken.

And misses.

Once.

Twice –

Two dozen shuriken later, none of them have hit any part of the target.

“Wait…” Sasuke says, frowning. “What’s going on? Even in my body, she should have better aim than that.”

“Oh, she does,” Kakashi tells him.

When her ninja tools are exhausted, Sakura stomps forward, snatches the shuriken from where they are embedded and returns to her previous position. Then, she repeats the exercise.

“She’s missing on purpose,” Sasuke realises. “Why?”

“Well…technically, she’s not missing anything,” Kakashi reminds him, and Sasuke’s eyes go wide. At the same time, he notices that the lively din in the training grounds has started to go quiet as the other kids begin to take notice. There’s a growing whisper around them, and the sound of chuckles behind people’s hands, and it finally occurs to Sasuke what Sakura is doing.

She is very publicly torpedoing his reputation – a reputation he doesn’t even really care about.

Or rather, one he told himself he was above actually caring about. Right now, watching the pointing and sniggering from a bunch of younger kids, an unfamiliar sense of panic and embarrassment fills him.

“Better hope that doesn’t turn into village gossip,” Kakashi muses out loud. “If it gets around that Sasuke Uchiha can’t even throw a shuriken, we might not be considered for higher ranking missions in the future. Which I’m all for, because I’ve been meaning to catch up my reading, but –”

Sasuke isn’t listening to him anymore, instead stalking forward and grabbing on to Sakura’s wrist before she can throw another volley.

“You’re having an off-day today, aren’t you?” he says loudly, and then drags Sakura from the field.

It irritates him that it’s a lot harder than usual to do, and eventually he has to stop trying even though they aren’t even out of the training field. He hopes there aren’t any prying eyes and ears paying attention; Kakashi lingers in the background with his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing,” she snaps. “Just getting rid of something unimportant. I mean, you don’t care what people think of you, right?”

“This is not the same thing!”

“It is too! It’s something that means a lot to you, right?”

“It’s different from cutting hair!”

“That’s not the point!” she snaps. “It’s something that meant a lot to me, and I told you to take care of it, and you just…cut it all off.”

“But it’s hair,” he protests, still not understanding. “It’s not permanent, it’ll grow back, so it’s not important –”

“But it was to me!” she cries. “And I thought that you’d at least…” She trails off, swallowing and hangs her head. In a quieter voice, she murmurs, “Never mind. You never care about how people feel anyway, I don’t know why I…I don’t know why I thought…”

Her shoulders begin to shake, and Sasuke realises a beat later that she’s really crying now.

He fights down a note of panic, not knowing what he’s supposed to do, glancing around to see if anyone around is paying attention to the fact that Sasuke Uchiha is standing there crying in public! He shoots Kakashi a look pleading for help, but Kakashi shrugs, looking as uncertain as him.

This isn’t exactly an area either of them are comfortable in.

He clenches his fists, then frowns down at them, remembering that he’s in Sakura’s body. And if Sakura noticed him crying, even over something ridiculous, would she just stand there?

No, he realises.

Before he’s even aware of his body moving he approaches Sakura and pulls her into a tight embrace, winding his arms around her borrowed body and fitting his head into the space of her shoulder.

“There are so many worse things in the entire world to cry about, cut hair shouldn’t be one of them,” he murmurs in a low voice, trying to fight off his own discomfort knowing that Kakashi is watching – knowing that the people in the training field are probably watching, too. “But…if it’s important to you…I should have asked your permission first.”

Sakura is tense within his hold, but a moment later relaxes against him. He hears her sniff and then clear her throat.

“Sas…” she begins, and then coughs, straightening up and pulling away. In a loud, exaggerated groan of annoyance, she says, “Sakura, you’re choking me.”

But as she pulls away, he sees a brief flicker of a smile on her face, before she adopts scowl and stalks away from him. Sasuke watches her go, staring at the back of her borrowed neck, which is flushed with colour.

“Huh.” Kakashi is looking down at him now in speculation. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

つづく

Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Also, if you are in a supportive mood, I have a tip jar button for ko-fi located at the top of the page - or through this link. Thanks for your interest in my work!

クリ

[sasukeuchiha-eternalmangekyou]

Sound and Sand Invasion Chapter 1: Team Seven’s Survival

Created from this post (x)

Sasuke’s head reared upward the slightest fraction, back roughly slamming against the jagged bark of a tree, his muscles constricting upon impact, flesh curling at the sting of crimson freely running down his arm. His lungs expanded rapidly as he briefly closed his eyes, trying to disregard the pain slewing through his body, devouring his strength, the curse mark greedily siphoned more of his chakra. The air felt thick as if he was drowning in the oppressive sensation of each breath, robbed of relief the second he rearranged his composure. Utter dubiety cleaved his skin with every forced motion, tearing the sown wounds, digging deeper into the stitched core of his mentality. Every spark of energy he simply didn’t have after these continuous debilitating fights was being forged by sheer willpower. He’s taken down countless advisories over the length of expanding time.

A sharp twist of fear entangled his mind, weaving a network of remorseful panic he didn’t need to be reminded of. Knowing losing wasn’t an option, especially when his life wasn’t the only one on the line, pressed his concerns down. But suddenly being shoved back into that vulnerably, a night of murder and crowded corpses in the pale moonlight, wasn’t a trick he wanted his mind to play within this scene.

He pushed forward, a kunai held firmly in his shaking fingers, only to be released the second he impaled the enemy ninja in the chest. His opening was fleeting, but with as much gathered speed he could muster, he launched his attack. Sasuke ducked, eyes accustomed to their movements, trained to predict and counteract, instinctual to the very last motion. Blood splattered, freely running down as the shinobi was killed. The Uchiha tensed when taking a step in reverse, memories of bodies hitting the ground began spilling from the confines of his past. Even to remember was a notion he couldn’t allow. Death was a grave hand that stretched its sleeking digits into the chamber of rampant hearts and squeezed until the erratic beating stopped for eternity. He refused to think hiding from fate was the answer, but he certainly wasn’t going to die before he had the chance to pilfer the life of the one he needed to kill himself. The rest were casualties and nothing more. He wouldn’t become one of them. And neither would they.

“There’s more coming,” Pakkun warned, leaping up in the trees for cover. “We can avoid them if we keep moving east. It might be a longshot, but that’s all we got.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he dismissively huffed in annoyance. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if those two were awake.” His words were hollowed out by exhaustion, hardly audible. It was an oversight, a misleading venture of luck for him to consider. Naruto was down for the count after finishing off Gaara and Sakura hasn’t recovered from being almost crushed by that sand.

He strode over to where his comrades lay hidden. Ebon hues regarded the kunoichi’s calm countenance that not long ago held concern, not once forged by lies or forgotten whenever her eyes settled upon him, a gaze that seized the ferocity of flickered determination, now closed and rested. She put her life on the line while he was unable to move, a state he was sure to reenter soon if he didn’t take a moment to replenish his wavering energy. Regardless, Sakura proved she could do more than be a shadow, something she’d probably never consider to be proof of her vitality.

Naruto’s declaration of strength made the gravity of the situation tighten in his chest, bound and webbed within a storming reminder of his own words that ignited the blond into blind action. As willing as he was to die in order to protect them, it now became pointless as they remained motionless. He’d have to chastise himself later for neglecting the tangible desire of vengeance that fueled his will to live all those years ago, but it was of little consequence if he couldn’t figure a way out of this mess. The Sound ninja who lurked through the forest were in strategic groups and it vexed the Uchiha greatly to be at such a disadvantage.

He carried Naruto on his back as he securely held Sakura in his arms. A throbbing ache spiked along his shoulder, black flamed markings spreading further. He was nearly numb to the sensation of agony scurrying along his skin, melding into his bones that felt deteriorated under the pressure. The backlash of sudden pain caused him to stagger, relocating balance quickly as he jumped to join the hound above.

“Are you sure you can keep this up?” he asked, sniffing the air as they began moving.

“No,” he winced, feeling his body want to recoil. “I don’t have any other choice. If we stay in one place for too long, we’ll be done for. Just try to find somewhere more secure. We’re at our enemy’s mercy if we remain in the open like this.”

Pakkun adjusted their course, avoiding any unwarranted fights along the way. Kakashi wanted them to get to safety, but it didn’t seem possibly since the escalation of this attack settled on key points. Destroying Konoha. Killing the Third Hokage. And taking the Uchiha prisoner. Whether Sasuke realized it or not, he didn’t act the part of a frightened victim any more than he would have if he vocalized the worry seeping along his face, leading him to believe the other was only too aware of the risk. “If we head any closer to the village, we’re more likely to run into trouble.”

Sasuke dipped his head, eyes scanning the tarnished landscape they traveled over. This strike was premeditated, Orochimaru’s intentions going unsuspected or simply overlooked. Still, the Sannin took advantage of their caution, counting on an opening as if it was handed to him. “I can’t keep this up much longer,” he confessed breathlessly, vision becoming blurred. “I need to stop.”

The blood scaling down his head flared into an excruciating pain, burning as it slipped down his cheek. Those numerous battles were taking a toll too high to ignore. He landed unevenly on the ground, dropping his comrades as his knees struck the earth, fingers scratching gravel.

Pakkun landed beside him, ears perking up. They only traveled about a mile. “We got company coming fast.”

The Uchiha compressed his aggravation upon hearing those words. The snaking awareness of collapse coiled itself around him, smothering his senses. He rose on wobbly legs, his sharingan active as he spun around, deflecting the onslaught of soaring kunai headed his way. “How close are we to the arena?”

The dog rounded his focus towards the other. “Not too far, but that’s heading into danger the second we reach it. Kakashi asked that we-”

“That’s enough coverage if we remain out of sight. If Kakashi wants us to avoid it, we don’t have the luxury of options right now,” Sasuke said, ushering his head back for a moment. “It’s a gamble, but honesty we’re tripping over our opportunities here. If it wasn’t for carrying dead weight, we’d have been able to find somewhere else, but that’s not something he accounted. Besides, I’m out of choices. Try to wake them again while I hold these guys off.”

The pug sighed, darting over to the two Genin. “Okay. I’d say not to push yourself, but you’re the only one keeping us alive.”

Sasuke’s frown deepened. “Not for much longer at this rate.”

He was at the edge of his limits. He raised himself to kill one man, not save the lives of those he cared for, but he’d be damned if he was willing to lose another family.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A Lost stay pt. 2

When Bucky stopped a few feet from the truck, he watched from the gate as Crossbones carried Alex in his arms into an old warehouse. Bucky whimpered softly and said to himself.

'Okay its 7 miles from here to the junkyard, there's just not enough time to get her team here even if I run. I guess it's all up to me. But I'm a dog, and my metal arm is useless for once'. Bucky carefully walked towards the truck then crawled till he got to the window and notice the window could be open from either side. 

He carefully hopped over and landed along the catwalk and trotted onward panting softly till he looked down and could see Alex being strapped into a chair by her arms.

'What is Crossbones going to do with her?' It was then he saw Alex beginning to stir.

*My POV*

When I opened my eyes, I felt my arms pinned down and I was in a metal chair. I struggled trying to free myself when a familiar voice said through the darkness.

"It's no use princess. You can't escape those bounds, not even the Winter Soldier could break them whenever we had to erase his memory". Coming out of the darkness was Rumlow now known as Crossbones ever since the DC incident.

"Rumlow you son of a bitch".

"Long time no see kid".

"Yeah, say why don't you show me that pretty mug of yours that you always claimed to have, I bet Captain America gave you some class for a change". He slapped me hard across the face and he sneered.

"Always with the fire Alex, you always had that in you. For someone who works in the dark, and yet she's just a frightened little kid inside". He mocked as he turned me towards him.

"How did you find me?"

"We never lost you little birdie, we've always known where you were, we just bide our time to finally get you alone". My eyes widened as I muttered,

"Butch".

"Ding, ding, but now that he's served his purpose we don't need him anymore, all we want know is for our little canary to be back in her cage once again, or else".

"Or else what?" I mocked. Rumlow backed away from me and one of his men handed him a book and Rumlow opened it to a certain page and said in Russian.

"Noch'". My eyes widened in fear.

"No" I whispered.

"Smert'".

"Please". I begged.

"Koshmar". My automail arm began trembling. My heart raced erratically and my breathing deepened.

"Stop, please". I begged to Rumlow but he continued.

"Kladbishche!" I threw back my head screaming in fear and agony. Like the Winter Soldier, Hydra had given me my own trigger words to bring out my alter-ego. Their deadliest weapon that could rival that of the Winter Soldier.

The Raven.

"Nindzya!" Flashbacks of when I was forced to hear these words by my Hydra handlers for years ever since I was 7 years old came flashing through my mind. All the things I did as The Raven, all the people I've killed, the day Hydra decided to get rid of my human arm and force this automail arm upon me. I kept screaming and sobbing begging for him to stop before he reached the 10th word.

Suddenly I began to hear mad barking and Rumlow suddenly stopped as he was pounced on by a dog. I was then released from my bounds as the dog seemed to hit a button on the computer forcing the chair to release me as I just collapsed onto the floor.

"You damn bitch! You're gonna pay for that!" Rumlow snarled as he trudged towards me but the German shepherd stood over me protectively. The dog then lunged for Rumlow's and began attacking his face. Knocking the mask off of him and going for his throat ripping out his vocal chords. When Rumlow was down, the German shepherd then turned his attention towards me.

I was shaking on the ground trying to block out all the flashbacks that I was having. Flashes of what Hydra did to me and what I was forced to do, if I had done that to my team I....... I would never forgive myself. My mind wasn't aware of what was going on around me and I thought Rumlow was still coming after me, but it wasn't until I felt a soft nudge at my automail hand. The German shepherd then slowly and cautiously nudged under my arm and cuddled up close to me.

Then for the first time in over 13 years, I slowly broke down crying. I held onto the closest as tight as I could and sobbed. I felt a warm soft tongue gently lick my tears and soft whimpers coming out from him.

*Bucky's POV*

Oh god, if I hadn't been interfered when I did, and Rumlow did succeed in bringing out forth "The Raven", I don't know what we would've done.

Poor Alex was in complete shock and I could tell with her being so strong towards her gang of Misfits she wouldn't allow herself to show weakness but now—the strong leader was reduced to a mere child crying and begging for the pain to stop. No wonder why dogs were used more to comfort PTSD soldiers or were used to comfort people and children in pain, my instincts were telling me exactly what she needed and how to do it.

I nuzzled her and softly licked her tears away. I kept my body close to her to warm her up and to comfort her letting her know that I was here and that no one was going to hurt her ever again. I nuzzled my face against hers gently and kept softly licking her.

I knew we weren't going anywhere for a while until she was better, but I didn't care if we moved now or a week from now. All I wanted was to comfort Alex. She needed me and I wasn't going to leave her, so I stayed with her, took care of her.

When morning came around, Alex woke up and slowly stood up and walked towards a table and got some rope and weakly began tying it up until the top part became a collar sized that would fit around my neck. She then put the rope around me gently, feeling her trembling hands and lowered my head and licked them comfortingly and once I was latched on, I then quickly found her an old sheet and covered her shoulders with it, somehow knowing that no one in the gang knows about her arm. It was then I guided her back home.

Once we got to the junkyard, her whole gang was surrounding her talking all at once making Alex shrink back in fear. I barked at them protectively.

'Get back all of you! Can't you see she's traumatized! Give her some space!'

"Guy! Guys enough! Give her some room to breathe!" Her second in command Mindy proclaimed shutting everyone up as they got a good look at their leader. Once the gang backed up, Alex ghostly walked towards a fort-like structure and pulled the sheet down to hide herself from the rest of the world. Worriedly I walked towards the junk fortress and entered inside to see Alex laying on her chair broken and empty.

I walked towards her and placed my head in her lap and waited for a response from her. I then felt her place her left hand on my head and she gently stroked it. I then heard the flaps from the sheet open and there stood Mindy. I turned to her then back down and allowed Alex's petting to sooth me.

"It was them, wasn't it?" She asked. I titled my head in confusion did she know about Alex's story? Either way Alex stayed silent and still. Mindy looked down at me and said. "Aaron and Amy said that you saved them yesterday, and now you've saved our leader from returning back to that hellhole. You're now an honorary member of this gang, Alex could still use you though. I haven't seen her like this since I met her. You'll take care of her, won't you?" I nodded once then Mindy ruffled my head and walked right out leaving us alone once again.

I turned back to Alex and once again rested my head on her lap and then for the first time she finally spoke out.

"I was 7 years old, when I was taken by Hydra. They called me the Raven because of how I could easily maneuver in the darkness and kill quick and swiftly thanks to all the Asian styles of Karate that I was forced to being taught. To bring her out, like the Winter Soldier all they had to say were the goddamn words and then ask me "What does the Raven say?" "Nevermore" I would respond to them and then they would give me my task. I was tortured whenever I messed up and one time I was just sitting in my cell when the scientists knocked me out and I woke up strapped to a metal table. They then proceeded to cut my right arm from its socket and no there was nothing wrong with it, they just wanted to replace it with this automail one to make me an even more dangerous weapon, like their Winter Soldier". She took a shaky breath and choked out, "and do you know what the worse thing about my time there was? It was my own parents who sold me to Hydra in the first place, they were both members of Hydra's scientist dept. they sold me to them and even came up with the idea of making me this arm. They just stood there watching as I felt every. Single. Bit of pain as my arm was being cut off and forced into being connected to this thing" she gestured to her arm.

I could not believe what I was hearing. Her own parents? Her own parents did this to her? I hope they're still alive so that way I can look them in the eyes and slowly watch as I took their lives so that they knew every bit of pain that their daughter felt.

"I managed to escape when I was 14, it was then I met Mindy out in the streets stealing from a Mini-mart. Soon the two of us joined together to help other kids like us. Only she knows the truth of what happened and she alone is the only one who knows about my arm. That's why I wear long sleeved jackets around the gang all the time". She scoffed out a cold chuckle and said as she then looked at me. "God look how far I've stooped, I'm talking to a dog for fuck's sake. But at least you sorta know how it is. Being looked at as trash, especially with that arm of yours, I guess—this was fate that you were brought to me. We're the same, treated like lowlife strays that belong out in the streets. And since you saved Aaron and Amy this morning as well as saving me last night, that gives you even more right to stay and be one of us".

I took my chance and hopped up into her lap. She bent back the chair allowing more room for us as I now placed my head on her chest and deeply sighed out through my nose.

"Good dog" she whispered tiredly as I felt her gently scratch behind my ears before finally falling asleep.

Now I know why Loki did what he did. He was the cat Alex had called "Little Thief" and he must've heard or even seen Alex's story by reading her mind and knew that if he tried to tell the rest of the Avengers about her and these other kids, they'd never believe him (I mean would believe a story like that if that very same person was responsible for killing hundreds of people trying to take over the world?) I then shut my eyes and fell asleep in Alex's arms.

A few hours later I woke up to a familiar scent, my ears perked up at a sound and then I saw a black dog carrying a long tattered bedsheet in its mouth. This black dog looked more like a wolf with green eyes I then knew who it was. I gently hopped off of Alex and took the sheet from the black wolfdog and put it over Alex then I followed the wolfdog out of the junkyard and the two of us ran as fast as we could towards the nearest abandoned alleyway.

He turned towards me and in a shimmer of green and gold light Loki appeared before me and he said.

"So now you know?" He raised his hand and soon I was surrounded in the same light and I was now back to normal.

"Yeah. So that's where you were all that week, you were Little Thief as Alex called you".

"The young Midgardian definitely has some fire in her, that's why I stuck around her and the gang. But I knew her strength could only go so far".

"You're right about that, and I must thank you Loki. If you hadn't had turned me into a dog and sent me to find them, Hydra would've gotten their hands on The Raven for sure and she would have to relive all the torture and pain she's tried so hard to escape from". Loki nodded his head once. "But it's not just her, it's all those kids, who knew society had given up on so many children?"

"Indeed. It's one of the reasons why I dislike you Midgardians. You give up too easily when something gets too hard to accomplish, especially when it comes to helping others weaker than yourselves".

"So the Coldhearted Frost giant does have a warm heart". I mocked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" he tried to state as calm and collected as he could but I could see a slight smirk on his face. "So soldier, what do you plan on doing now?"

"Where's Steve?" Loki then raised his hand and we soon disappeared from the alleyway in a flash of green and gold light.

*My POV*

When I finally woke up the second time in a row I took notice of a sheet wrapped around me and the dog was gone. I scoffed and muttered.

"I knew it, even strays run from strays. I should've known better". I then heard the sound of cars pulling up towards the junkyard. I got out of my fort still holding the sheet close so no one not even the young ones could see me arm. Soon my whole team gathered around as we saw cars pulling into the junkyard and dozens of people coming out, some of those people included the Avengers.

They came up to us and Captain America said.

"Which one of you is Alex Pickett?" I stepped forward and stated strongly.

"Why are you here?"

"We've received word on your conditions and checked all of your backgrounds and came to a decision," my eyes widened and I sneered at him.

"How dare you!? You think it's okay to just waltz in here, state you know everything about us and try to put us back in the system that gave up on all of us or didn't even try to do a damn thing to save us and give us the protection we needed!"

"We're not here to take you into Child services or women's/men's services for domestic abuse. We're taking you all to Avenger's tower to be trained in combat, to train you kids and give you all a home, with us". Natasha stated. Some of my gang looked at each other then Tony Stark came forward and said.

"Everything you children need I can provide. Good food, fresh water, and a warm bed to sleep in without it smelling like old dumpsters". I turned to Mindy who just looked at me like it was all up to me. I also looked at the young ones who all had the same look of wonderment at the sound of warm beds and fresh food. I turned back to Captain America and said.

"How did you even find out about us?"

"Two of our Avengers had come here and saw for themselves at what society had done to its future leaders. We want to make it right, that's all we want. Now you can freely accept or deny yourself Miss Pickett, but if some of your group wants to they can gladly come with us". I looked at all my children and they all looked at me with sad eyes, I remained silent for a while until I finally sighed and stated.

"That's my problem, I'm just too nice. Alright we'll go with you". The kids all cheered and the teens all smiled and hugged each other like they were relieved to finally leave the junkyard. I on the other hand was still skeptical and based on what Steve had said about checking backgrounds, they probably already knew who I was and wanted to arrest and incarcerate me for my crimes tied to Hydra.

We were soon all loaded into the backs of trucks and we drove off towards Avenger's tower. But while my hands were softly trembling and my leg was shaking, I saw a metal hand being placed over my right automail one. When I looked up I saw the Winter Soldier sitting right next to me looking at me with reassurance and comfort.

Throughout the day, we all were given new clothes provided by Stark himself, food, and our own rooms. I specifically was given a room at Bucky's request to be on his level. And just as I feared, I was taken into an interrogation room and was forced to share with Natasha and Steve all Hydra Intel I knew during my time there. For hours I was forced to tell them everything I did and what my parents did to me and I hated every second of it.

When it was all over, I was then forced by Stark and Dr. Banner to go to their lab so that they could study my automail and see how it worked and how they made it. Just even allowing other people to see my arm just broke my pride and forced me to age drop back to that frightened 7 year old, I would try to hide it but sometimes it slipped out through hidden tears.

But through all the mental torture, Bucky was there by my side and came to my rescue and told anyone to back off. Something about him just seemed familiar in the way he protected me, like a loyal dog. One day I saw him in the training room punching one of the punching bags and as he wiped the sweat from his brow he took notice of me and said.

"Alex, what is it? Did Stark and Banner force you to see your arm again?"

"No, no. I just—wanted to ask you something" I said nervously.

"What is it?"

"It was you, wasn't it? The dog? You saved the twins and me that day didn't you?" Bucky softly smiled and said.

"Forcefully turned into a dog by Loki aka Little Thief. He was the one to find you guys first, then he turned me into the German shepherd to find out about you and your crew. And I'm glad he did". He stood up and placed his hands on my shoulders and continued, "I know what's going on through your mind. I've been there before. But you'll be safe here, you and your crew. You've got the best people in the world looking out for you, especially you Alex, you're not alone kid. And even if the team isn't then know that I'm always with you till the end of the line, one Hydra stray to another". Then for the first time in my entire life, I received a kiss to my forehead as a sign of affection then Bucky left me alone in the gym.

The next few weeks my crew had grown really fond of being a part of the team of superheroes and some of them even became like children or younger siblings to the Avengers. We'd join in on dinners and parties, we'd joke around and prank one another, it was like my crew and I were "The Young Avengers" the next generation of the team and soon we'd be able to do on assignments and save the world.

One night we had all just gotten done with "Avengers movie night" watching "Spy Kids" and once it was done we all called it a night and all went up to our rooms. When Bucky and I reached our floor and I got to my room Bucky said to me.

"Goodnight Alex".

"Night Bucky". We then entered our separate rooms and I got changed into my pajamas and fell fast asleep.

But not long after I had shut my eyes, the nightmares came flooding back in. All the screaming, the blood, the darkness and reliving the day I got my automail arm while my parents just stood there with gleams in their eyes and sadistic smiles. I shot up screaming and panting heavily. I quickly turned on my light to see that I was in my room at Avenger's tower but that didn't stop my fear and my sudden age drop. I quickly ran to Bucky's room and opened the door only to see that he wasn't there.

I quickly ran to the elevator and pressed the down button and tried to steady my breathing and when the doors finally opened I quietly walked through hoping that no one would hear me walking in case someone was down here and there I saw two figures. One of them was Bucky sitting on the couch watching TV and Loki sitting on one of the chairs closest to me reading a book.

I nervously looked down at my feet then towards Bucky and I took my chance. Holding myself together I quietly ran towards Bucky. Loki noticing my figure running past him, looked up from his book and kept his eyes on me as I finally reached the couch. I took notice that Bucky was actually sleep so I carefully sat beside him then scooted close to him and wrapped my arms around him and buried my face into his chest.

His eyes opened and when he saw me clinging onto him like a frightened child, he smiled softly then turned to Loki who got the message and disappeared leaving the two of us alone. Bucky got a blanket he was using earlier that had fallen onto the floor and covered me up and brought me close to him whispering comforting words as he gently rocked me, rubbing my back and giving me loving kisses all over my face telling me it was going to be okay, it was okay to cry, he was there and he wasn't going anywhere.

The two of us shared an unbreakable bond, we were both forced to be Hydra's dogs, managed to escape when we could and become strays but at the cost of our sanity. But when we found each other we somehow managed to understand each other's pain and just being there for each other seemed to calm us down.

Soon we both fell asleep our metal hands intertwined with each other's.

_______________________________________________________

*Translation* If these are wrong I apologize I found them through goggle translation.  

Noch: Night 

Smert': Death

Koshmar: Nightmare

Kladbishche: Graveyard

Nindzya:  Ninja

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