#jolani minhas

[whump-ventures]

For @whumpay2022 Day 4: I had it handled

This is part of the AU with @abstractwhump (currently called our “sad au” even though a more interesting name will probably be developed one day)

~~~

She wakes to the sound of swords clashing.

Rahim is already alert next to her, his eyes wide in horror in the dim light. Are they under attack?

He scrambles to his feet, grabbing his sword, and Sajia follows quickly as he runs to the door and throws it open.

Her mind can hardly process the scene. Their guards are fighting for their lives, enemy soldiers and enemy mages attacking with a brutality that Sajia has never been witness to before. Bodies are on the ground. One of them swings a sword in her direction, and Sajia acts on instinct, spinning out of the way before blasting them back with a powerful gust of wind. Another soldier lunges at her, and her husband intercepts him, fire lighting up the hall and the soldier’s screams echo as she backs up, feeling the panic shoot through her as she frantically looks around, heart stopping at the confirmation of her worst fear.

The door to her daughter’s room is open.

“Sajia, wait, let me-” He doesn’t grab her, but she can hear the fear in her husband’s voice as she moves towards Jolani’s room.

She turns to him quickly, knowing that there’s no time to waste, she can hear fighting coming from down the hall. “I can handle it. They need you here.”

His hand slips into hers for just a brief second. He squeezes it tightly, his fear and his love conveyed through the simple gesture. But one look into his eyes, and she knows what his answer will be. “Go.” He breathes out. “ I’ll take care of this group.”

He lets go, charging back into the battle that’s happening inside their own home, and she doesn’t hesitate to slip along the wall to Jolani’s room. She can see lights flashing inside but it’s hard to hear anything over the chaos that’s happening in her home. Fire battling with lightning most likely.

The sounds are overwhelming. The clang of swords, the screams, the orders ringing through the hall. And above it all, she hears a loud cry of pain.

“Jo!”

There are four of them. Rengzhi soldiers, she can only assume, and they all turn towards her when she sprints into the room. Her daughter is on the floor in the corner, half curled on her side, and for a horrifying moment, Sajia is certain that she is dead. Then she can see the faintest rise and fall of her chest, and that’s all it takes for Sajia to turn on the mage nearest to Jolani, and attack.

She rarely uses her magic, but she has the upper hand almost immediately. A heavy gust of wind blows three of the attackers back, and the one nearest to Jolani- the one who is most likely responsible for her daughter being unconscious on the ground- is collapsing to his knees a moment later. Gasping for air that won’t come as she takes it away from him, watching him suffocate right before her eyes.

The others are attacking and Sajia takes a deep breath as she plants herself firmly between Jolani and those who want her dead.

Lightning flashes as her wind whips around the room. One of the attackers lets out a loud cry as he slams hard into the far wall, and she refocuses her attention on one moving in with a sword. Everything is moving quickly, and it’s hard to see with her magic acting as a shield. The one that hit the wall is getting back up as another stumbles away from her attack. The one with the sword is trying to circle around behind and she focuses on him as the most immediate threat to her daughter. Her magic steals the air from his lungs, and she watches as he drops to the ground, sword falling out of his grasp as both hands go to clutch at his throat.

He collapses to the ground when a hand closes on her shoulder and spins her around. She has no time to defend herself before something cold and sharp pierces her chest.

Sajia gasps, stumbling to stay on her feet. The pain shoots through her as she tries to grab at the hilt of the dagger. It’s twisted and the world goes black and she screams.

Brilliant light fills the room, and the blade is yanked roughly out of her. Suddenly she can’t seem to breathe at all, more just desperate gasps as she stumbles backwards until her back is pressed against a wall to support her. One hand weakly paws for the wound, trying to find it to apply some pressure.  There’s more light as some of her vision seems to return, loud yelling nearby, and then two sets of footsteps storm past her, fading into the distance as Sajia starts to slide down the wall, one hand still clutching at her rib cage. The world is fading in and out of focus. The sounds of fighting have mostly vanished.

More footsteps are approaching her now, but somehow she knows it’s help, not the enemy coming back to finish what they started. She’s not sure of what’s happening, except that she’s badly injured and that her daughter is safe. The latter is all that matters.

“No.” She knows that voice, but she doesn’t open her eyes. “No, no, Sajia-” Arms are wrapping around her, gentle and warm like they always are, and she leans into them with her remaining strength. “I’m right here, I’m right here, please-”

She blinks open her eyes to look up at him. His hands are over her own, strong and steady and applying pressure to her wound. She’s never seen him look so scared. “She okay?” Sajia murmurs, moving her free hand to rest over his, squeezing it softly like he did to her before she ran off.

He smiles, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Yes, she’s going to be just fine, you did amazing.”

“I told you, my love.” Sajia closes her eyes again, feeling her strength starting to fade to nothing. “I had it handled.”

His head is buried in her hair, holding her close like he always does. “You’re going to be okay.” He murmurs, voice barely audible as she leans against him. Sajia can hardly feel the pain now. “We’re going to be okay.”

Sajia doesn’t have the strength to say anything else. She’s being held by the man she loves, and as her breathing starts to slow, it’s almost like she’s just going to sleep in his arms. She’ll see him again someday.

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Unlikely Salvation (@whump-sprite) Timeline: The end of Jo’s stint as a trainee with the feds Cowritten with @khalwrites, Jo is hers

---

Minhas

The witch’s head lolls. Blood drips from her lips. Riven backhands her casually to see if she’ll stir, but her head just tips to the side, then back to the centre. “Are you in there, Amir?” he calls, sing-song. “Rise and shine, no sleeping on the job.” When there’s still no sign of consciousness after a few more seconds, he sighs and unchains the prisoner from the wall, letting her flop to the floor. Maybe she’ll come round with her head at floor level. Ideally he needs to hold off another day or two before getting the healer back in, or Bright will be breathing down his neck again.

“Anyone home? Come on, wake up.” He nudges a badly displaced fracture with his foot, then kicks harder. A low groan reveals that she’s starting to come round. “Rise and shine, Amir,” he taunts, crouching down beside her to get a better look at her face. She’s well past being able to lash out. “Don’t you have some more clever words for me. Hey, look at me. Amir. Ami-ir?” Her eyes are still unfocused. Even her scowl is slack, just a hint of a curl in her lip and some residual tension between her brows. “Jo-lan-i?” Riven sings. Her eyes find his face. She doesn’t hide her fear as well when she’s dazed like this. It’s almost cute. “Can you hear me, Amir?” No response. “Jolani,” he calls again. She makes a tiny sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

Interesting. A little suspicion stirs in his mind. Probably it’s nothing. But it won’t hurt to investigate.

“What’s your name, little bitch?” he sing-songs. “... Jolani…” she mumbles. No back-chat. He likes her better like this. “Uh huh,” he prompts, “Is that it?” Dark eyes blink slowly at him. The more swollen one sticks closed. “What’s your name?” “Jolani,” she repeats. A hint of stubborn irritation is creeping into the confusion. “Is it really?” “... did you… forget… already?” Riven puts a knee down hard on her back to make her convulse and cry out. “What’s your name, bitch.” “Jolani,” she snaps. “What’s your name, Jolani?” “Jolani,” she repeats, utterly confused. “No, you stupid witch. Jolani what?” She is silent, looking baffled, and Riven’s anticipation spikes. “What’s your last name?” “... Jolani?” He pushes a thumb into a burn, not hard enough to make her whimper, but hard enough to make her face scrunch up. “Have you forgotten?” he teases, gleeful. “That’s a funny thing to forget, your own last name. If I didn’t know better I’d think… maybe you made it up.” “My name’s Jolani,” she insists. “Jolani what?” “Jolani Minhas,” she tells him. Riven’s grin grows very wide. “There we go,” he purrs. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

For a few seconds she stays confused, frowning up at him like she doesn’t understand what she’s said. Then her eyes go absolutely huge. Riven laughs delightedly at her whimper of pure terror. “Amir!” she blurts out. “Amir!” “Too late, Minhas,” he crows. “I told you we’d get there, didn’t I. Shall we find out what else you’ve got to tell me, hm?” “Amir,” she stammers, “My name is Amir.” “That’s a lie, witch,” he grins. “And liars get burned.” “I’m J-J-Jolani Amir...” There are tears streaming down her face now. Riven delights in the sight. He didn’t mind really, that she wasn’t telling him anything. It’s all the same to him. But the slip-up means she’s breaking.

There’s a spring in his step as he paces across the cell to the toolkit. His hand hovers over the blowtorch, then grabs the soldering iron instead. Harder to go overboard by mistake. “You’re going to tell me everything, Minhas,” he gloats. “You know you are. It’s just a matter of how much fun I get to have between now and then.” “G-go to hell,” she snarls, “go t-t-to hell. I’m not a --” pausing to take deep, sobbing breaths “-- not a goddamn spy.” Riven laughs, kicking her idly. The bitch groans, but finds the breath to repeat “My name is Amir.” “Scream for me, Minhas.” 

She tries not to. She gasps, groans, and chokes on her cries, but they get louder and louder as he works the hot iron across her whipped back. He knows she’d be screaming already if he hadn’t told her to. Her stubborn insistence on doing the opposite of whatever he says is hilarious. “It’s -- Amir --!” she protests, over and over between yelps and sobs. “I’m -- Amir -- I’m n-n-not -- a traitor --!” The cracking screams, when they come, are just icing on the cake.

“Amir --” she sobs “-- don’t want -- mhnhh! -- m-magic --” “That’s three times in a row you’ve said that,” Riven teases. “You’re losing it, Minhas.” She glares up at him, and tries weakly to spit blood from her split and swollen lips. “W-w-wo-n't break--” gasp “--bre-ak m-m-me.” “I am breaking you,” Riven purrs contentedly. “Just look at you.” She sobs harder, and he pauses just to watch. “Gonna k-kill--” she stutters “--kill you.” “Oh, I’m so scared.” Another jab with the soldering iron, digging it deep into her back. She gasps for air, but she growls through the pain. “One -- one day. You. Will be.” Riven laughs at her conviction. “You’re never getting out of here. Unless…” he grins.. “Who’s coming for you, little spy?” “Not a spy,” she responds instantly.

It’s not useful, how she keeps falling back on the same handful of answers. But it sure is funny.

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Unlikely Salvation (@whump-sprite) Timeline: Ari is about 19 and in training as a federal agent

Cowritten with @khalwrites, Jo is hers

Two Shots 2/5

[1, 2, 3]

“We work undercover for the Resistance.” Ari’s heart sinks as the words come out of Jo’s mouth. She thought Jo might have a good plan. But it’s not like she has any ideas of her own. “Shut up,” she hisses, rolling with the first half-formed thought she has of how to back Jo up. “Do you want to live or not?” Jo snaps back at her. Quicker off the mark than Ari as always. “What choice do we have?” Ariadne glowers at her. Pain pools in her eyes as she deepens her frown. “Yeah right,” scoffs the warlock with the gun -- what kind of weakass warlock needs a gun?

But the other one is listening.

“We work with the Resistance,” Jo keeps talking, “planning a jailbreak of some of the warlocks there.” “Shut up, Jo,” Ari repeats. Where is Jo getting these ideas? All Ari can do is try to stick to the part she’s picked and hope it isn’t a stupid one. “They’re coming soon, we need to be there to meet them or the plan goes to hell." The guy holds Jo's gaze for a few seconds, then shakes his head with a bitter laugh. "The 'Resistance'," he mocks, "are a bunch of weak-willed cowards. They'd never dare send someone 'undercover', let alone a coupla kids."

Jo looks to Ari for help, and Ari has nothing. "I told you to shut up," she stalls, letting her frustration into her tone. Not the best plan you've ever had, Jo. "Who even are these assholes?" "You're just trying to save your skin. If you're really Resistance, show us some magic." "Do not," Ari cuts in, still pretending she doesn't want Jo to give up their 'secret', "Don't you fucking--" But Jo is talking too, protesting "Not everyone in the Resistance has magic." And that's two different stories, and Ari's sure they're fucking this up, but she doesn't know what she could possibly say to fix it. Her head is killing her, pain spiking with every sound and every motion. She huffs in frustration and lets her gaze drop.

"The Resistance won’t be pleased if you hurt us,” Jo tries, calm and unfazed still, not a drop of fear or anger in her voice. The warlocks scoff. Jo has so much bravado. Ari’s heart aches. Jo is strong, she can be too. “You don’t lose anything if you let us go,” she tells them sullenly. Gun-man laughs again. “We lose plenty if we let a couple baby feds go. You’re a message to them. They better start watching their backs.”

Jo looks at Ari as if to ask Now what? and there’s something almost helpless in her eyes. Ariadne’s temper flares. “Yeah,” she snaps, “real impressive, you grabbed a pair of untrained teenagers. Great message, real scary.” “Why you little--” Crack -- the sound of air tearing -- and Ari screeches as unexpected force hits her like a shot in the gut. She thinks she has been shot for a moment, but her whole body goes rigid with it like the worst cramp she’s ever had. As it fades, she realises the warlock used his fucking magic on her. “-- you fucking asshole --” she spits “-- you wouldn’t be so--” Another shock slams into her, and Ariadne yells again. She clamps down on the sound faster this time. Those fuckfaces don’t get to hear her scream.

She only barely gets a breath in before his hands are on her shoulders, and his power is ripping through her in waves of agony again.

There’s no getting used to it. It’s the most pain Ari has ever felt by a million miles and it won’t stop -- but fury is as loud in her splitting skull as the panic. She grits her teeth and holds her breath and her body convulses with the magic but she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t, she doesn’t -- she doesn’t --

She does.

The sound just spills out of her, and she has no more control over her throat than any of her other muscles. She chokes, and she yells, and she screams.

There are brief pauses so that she can gasp for air, but not long enough for her to curse the motherfucker out. His hands are on her shoulders, and Ari’s head knocks against his arms as she tosses it side to side. His arm is right there -- her teeth find flesh, and she bites down with the force of a panicking animal.

She doesn’t get to appreciate his reaction. She hears him yell, and then all she gets to experience is the fresh wave of agony that surges from his hands.

It goes until her vision is black and she thinks she is dying. She gets a single breath, and it happens again. And again. And again. And again.

Ari screams and screams and writhes and panics and there is nothing nothing nothing she can do.

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