#she tried up until the western approach and then gave up after everyone yelling at her in different fonts for making the same mistake three

[martyrmarked]

sidri makes solas do all the astariums

[beifongsss]

firebending [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: Yes! By a wonderful anon: “your zuko fics are all so well-written! I have a request for a firebender reader who hates the fire nation and was never trained in the art of fighting. then she/they join the gaang and learns firebending with aang from zuko. it’s awkward between them at first but cue ~ romance ~”

Summary: If someone told you that you’d end up dating the Fire Nation prince one day, you would’ve laughed in their face. If only you knew how right they were.

wc. ~5.2k

.masterlist.

~

When you first joined the Gaang, everyone expected you and Katara to hate each other. After all, you were from the Fire Nation and everybody knew Katara was the biggest anti-Fire Nation enthusiast there ever was.

They were quickly proven wrong when you didn’t fight against Katara’s harsh remarks, instead agreeing with them and even adding more scathing words of your own to show your distaste towards the Fire Nation. Since joining them, you never wore anything related to the Fire Nation. Nothing that is, with the exception of an elaborate hairpiece that your mother had left you. The hairpiece never left your body, the sunstone in the middle of it shining from its place on your head.

Escaping Ba Sing Se (and therefore the Earth Kingdom) had simultaneously been the best and worst thing that had happened to you. You were glad that Aang was alive, obviously, but being back in Fire Nation clothing was making you anxious.

Ever since the battle in the catacombs, you had been avoiding everyone. You had revealed your firebending in a panic, shooting a strong blast of fire at the banished prince as he snuck up on Katara. He had been taken off guard just long enough for you to subdue him before he realized that you didn’t know what you were doing.

There had been no time for Katara to question you after that. You had all fled and met up with her father, Hakoda, before seizing a Fire Nation ship to use as a disguise. As soon as you stepped foot on the ship, you had scrambled to an empty room and locked yourself inside. You had ignored Katara’s pleas for you to open the door, never once moving from your spot unless it was to use the bathroom or to get the tray of food that you knew had been placed at your door.

No one had known you were a firebender, and the initial shock eventually wore off as everyone found themselves missing your presence. It wasn’t until Aang woke up that you finally emerged.

~

“(Y/N)?” Sokka asked hesitantly, knocking softly on your door.

“Go away!” was the muffled reply that came from your room.

“Nope. I think Aang wants to see you.”

Sokka waited for a few seconds before the door swung open, reveling you standing there. You were wearing your Earth Kingdom clothes, trying to delay the inevitable. You looked up at him, making his heart hurt when he noticed the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Is he really awake?” you asked, your voice small. Sokka nodded.

“Hurry up and get changed. He’s on the deck.”

You nodded softly before closing the door. You opened it again a few minutes later, now dressed in red. As much as Sokka hated to admit it, you looked good in red. The Fire Nation was your home, after all. You followed him up to the deck, your finger nimbly twisting part of your hair into a knot big enough for your hairpiece.

“(Y/N)!” Aang yelled when you came into view. He launched himself at you and you caught him with a small “oof”. You giggled softly as you rubbed his head, making his hair stick up in all directions.

“Aang!” you cried in reply. “You have hair!”

Aang made a funny face at your words before fixing his hair. “Yeah, I guess I was out longer than I thought.”

You leaned down and swept the boy up into another hug, pulling him close as you held tears back. “I’m so glad you’re okay Aang. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you-”

“Don’t worry! Look at me, I’m fine!” Aang said, trying to make you feel better. He led you over to where everyone else was, Katara looking up and smiling softly as you glanced at her. “They also told me about your firebending! How come you never told us?’

You reeled back in shock, looking around wildly as everyone heard Aang’s word. When there were no negative reactions, you relaxed slightly.

“Everyone already knows huh?” you asked drily, being met with nods from everyone on board. You sighed and tapped your foot before speaking. “Okay, yes I’m a firebender. The reason I never told you guys is because I never wanted to use it. I was young when I fled and I never got a chance to learn anything other than the basics.”

Aang nodded in understanding. “But you could’ve built your skills that time we met Jeong Jeong.”

“No. After my family...” you trailed off, thinking about why you never became a master bender. Aang gave you an encouraging look and you breathed in deeply. “I promised myself I wouldn’t firebend ever again. Not after that.”

Aang nodded in understanding as you fell silent, thinking about your past. The Fire Nation was the reason why you had been all alone. They had killed your family with the weapon you now hated: firebending.

The silence engulfed the entire ship, everyone lost in their own thoughts. There was a peaceful atmosphere as the ship drifted along, but of course it didn’t last long.

Soon enough, you found yourself chasing after Aang, eventually being forced to hide in the Fire Nation as the Day Of Black Sun loomed closer and closer.

~

The promise that you had made to yourself to never firebend again was still intact. You hadn’t let any bursts of fire out, not even when you had found yourself surrounded by Fire Nation troops on the Day of Black Sun. The eclipse was a blessing to you, the brief eight minutes just long enough to make you feel normal.

Of course, you soon found yourselves fleeing to the Western Air Temple, silently mourning the loss the rest of the invasion army. Once you all settled in, you kept wearing the red top you had acquired in the Fire Nation. You don’t know why; it just brought you some type of comfort. Aang had grinned when he noticed, wondering if all your adventures in the Fire Nation had lessened your hatred towards the nation.

It had.

But not by much. Wearing the color red weighed heavily on your soul and you spent many of your waking hours debating whether or not keeping the red clothes was the right choice. It frustrated you to no end, how a simply piece of cloth could jumble your thoughts so easily. The red reminded you of the pain and grief you had experienced when you had lost your family, but in a twisted way it also reminded you of them. It reminded you of the days back when you still had them, back when you still had a home and you were happy. Deep down, you knew that you were Fire Nation but that knowledge didn’t stop your inner turmoil. And over the next few days, it only got worse with the arrival of a certain someone.

“Hello, Zuko here.”

You tried to hold back your groan, you really did. But it was as though the universe wanted to test you and had decided to do so by sending the Fire Nation prince your way. Zuko’s soft smile had dropped at your reaction, the corners of his lips quirking downward.

“Hey, I heard you guys flying around down there, so, I just thought I'd wait for you here,” he continued. Appa walked up to the prince and sniffed him before proceeding to lick him. Zuko’s face twisted up in disgust. “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”

"Not really,” Sokka said. “Since you've followed us all over the world!”

“Right,” Zuko said, wincing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh, anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is that I've changed, and I, uh, I'm good now, and well I think I should join your group, oh, and I can teach firebending to you. See, I, uh-”

“You want to what now?” you asked sharply, exchanging a look with Katara.

“You can't possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you?” she asked, opening her water skin. “I mean, how stupid do you think we are?!”

Zuko’s eyes shifted to you before he answered. “You trust her. She’s a firebender.”

Your eyes widened in anger and you began to march up to the prince, only stopping when Katara held you back.

“I am not, a firebender,” you hissed, staring Zuko down. “And I am not Fire Nation.”

Zuko stayed quiet, his eyes drifting from your red shirt to the hairpiece on your head. You followed his line of sight, eyes widening when you realized he was staring at the sunstone. You yanked your arm out of Katara’s grip, angrily stomping out of the room. You quickly stripped yourself of your red top as soon as you were out of sight before sighing deeply and pulling your hairpiece out. You arrived at the sleeping chamber and sat down on your sleeping bag quietly, holding the hairpiece in your hand tightly.

You stared at it sadly, the sunstone glinting in the dim light. Without hesitation, you pulled your arm back and flung it away, watching the sunstone glint in the sunlight as it rolled towards the edge. It was gone in a second, tumbling over the edge of the temple.

Now you were truly no longer Fire Nation.

~

Your life had just gotten ten times harder now that Zuko had been allowed to join the group. The defeat of Combustion Man had been intense and you had found injured when it was all over. Unlike Sokka, you had never been good with fighting, always relying on your intelligence to get you out of dire situations. With Combustion Man however, that proved to be a problem, and you had found yourself caught in the middle of a fight with no protection whatsoever.

In addition to the pain of your injury, you found yourself dealing with the prince’s presence. You found yourself avoiding the group entirely, taking on the more tedious chores (like laundry) to avoid spending time with the group and even hanging out with Haru, Teo, and The Duke as they explored the temple.

Tensions didn’t rise until a few days later, beginning when Aang approached you with an idea. After your tragic failure with Combustion Man, Aang believed that you needed to learn how to protect yourself and he thought that the right way to do that was by learning how to firebend. You had vehemently refused, accidentally yelling at the Air Nomad as everyone else watched in silence.

The argument was put on pause for a few days when Aang and Zuko traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ruins but when they came back, Toph had sided with him as well. You felt slightly betrayed by the small earthbender but still refused, stating that there was no way you would willingly learn how to firebend. At least you still had Sokka and Katara on your side.

At least you did until Sokka and Zuko took a trip to The Boiling Rock the next day. When they got back two days later, Sokka was on Aang’s side as well. The fight with Azula on the gondola had left him shaken as he realized just how hard it was to fight a bender with just a sword. You didn’t know how to use a sword, but you could firebend and so Sokka became one of Aang’s supporters. Katara was the only one who was still on your side, but that changed when Azula raided the temple.

Everyone had been woken up suddenly, reacting a bit slower than normal as Azula appeared. She immediately lunged at you, shooting blasts of blue fire as she stalked closer to you. Your eyes were wide with fear, dodging her attacks as much as you could.

“Watch out!” Zuko yelled, tackling you from the side, a pillar crashing down where you had been standing as a result of Azula’s lightning. You grunted softly as you landed, the breath leaving your lungs as Zuko landed on top of you. You opened your eyes immediately, meeting bright gold irises before they looked away as Zuko began to scan you for any visible injuries. Zuko’s hands rested on either side of your head as he tried to keep his weight off of you, not that it helped considering you were still struggling to catch your breath.

Or maybe you were struggling to catch your breath because of how close he was.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked, drawing your attention back to him. Scowling, you threw him off of you before scrambling to your feet, rushing to help Katara when you heard her yelp. Zuko noticed Toph earthbend a tunnel into the side of the temple, and rushed to join the others. His eyes landed on you as you threw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging another one of Azula’s deadly blasts. The princess grabbed you by the hair, laughing maniacally before dragging you to the airships.

“What are you doing?” Aang yelled, noticing that Zuko had stopped in his path.

“Azula has (Y/N)!” Zuko replied, turning around and facing the airships. “I’m gonna go get her.”

Katara rushed to Aang’s side, exchanging a worried look with him before getting on top of Appa. The rest of the Gaang joined them, holding on tight as they tried to maneuver the sky bison through all the debris. 

Zuko ran and launched himself onto the airship, landing safely on top of one. He glared at his sister, noticing that she was still holding onto you.

“Let her go, Azula!” Zuko yelled, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Hmm, I don’t think I will,” Azula replied, the blue flame in her palm growing brighter as she held it up to your face. “I think I’ll get rid of her instead. Then I’ll get rid of you. I can’t wait to celebrate being an only child.”

She inched the flame closer to your face, prompting Zuko to shoot a fire blast near her head. Growling, Azula tossed you to the side before confronting Zuko. The two siblings fought for a few minutes and you tried your best to avoid any wayward blasts. The fight stopped when they both struck at the same time, the resulting blast blowing both of them backwards.

“Zuko!” you cried, sprinting to grab the boy before he fell. You managed to grab onto his hand but his momentum sent you both tumbling into the chasm, a scream getting stuck in your throat as you plummeted. You were so overcome with fear that you didn’t notice Zuko pulling you into him, holding you close as you fell.

The fall didn’t last long, Appa managing to swoop in and save the two of you. You sat quietly on Appa’s saddle, both you and Zuko watching Azula as she kept falling.

“She’s...not gonna make it,” Zuko said softly, his arms tightening around you slightly. You watched with wide eyes as Azula used firebending to propel herself to the cliffside, sliding down a bit further before she took out her hairpin and stuck it into the side of the cliff, effectively ending her fall. “Of course she did.”

The seven of you sat in silence for a few minutes before Katara spoke up, tears in her eyes as she looked at you. “(Y/N), seeing Azula capture you got me thinking. I think...I think that you should learn how to firebend. You need to know how to defend yourself.”

“And I think that you can let go of each other now,” Sokka said cheekily, trying to diffuse the tension that had settled upon the group at Katara’s words. You shimmied out of Zuko’s hold, walking up to the Water Tribe girl and looking at her in disbelief.

“You’re supposed to be on my side Katara,” you hissed, flinching when she tried to reach for your hand. Without another words, you walked away and took Appa’s reins. The rest of the flight was silent, everybody knowing that now was not the time to be chatty.

~

Once again, you had retreated from the group. It wasn’t exactly hard considering the fact that now it was Katara and Zuko who had disappeared, gone on a quest to find her mother’s murderer. After a few days, Zuko reappeared alone and you found yourselves traveling to Ember Island.

Upon your arrival, you made your way over to Katara, who was standing quietly on the deck.

“I heard what you did,” you spoke first. “I’m glad you didn’t kill him.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” she whispered back, still looking straight ahead.

“Why?”

She turned slightly, facing you before speaking. “It’s not in my nature to kill. I couldn’t bring myself to use my bending for that. I have the chance to prevent other’s from going through what I went through; from going through what you went through. I want to use my bending for good.”

You mulled over her words for a few seconds before sighing deeply and walking away. Aang watched you quietly as he walked over to Katara, his eyes widening slightly when you walked up to Zuko.

“Ok,” you said quietly, looking up at the prince. “Teach me how to firebend.”

Zuko’s eyes widened briefly before he crossed his arms and composed himself. “Tomorrow at dawn. Be ready.”

And ready you were. Every day. Firebending was a lot easier than you expected, and you found yourself breezing though the basics and the intermediate moves. It wasn’t until you got to the advanced moves that you began to have some trouble.

“No!” Zuko barked. “That’s not how it’s done. Again!”

Your eye twitched before you took your stance again, launching yourself into the move that you were currently working on. You sighed deeply when you realized you had done it wrong again.

“Wrong. Again.”

“If you’re so good at it then come and show me,” you snapped, fed up with his attitude. Zuko straightened up before walking over to you, motioning for you to take your stance once more. You rolled your eyes, blowing the hair out of your eyes before complying.

“I will,” he said, moving your arms into the right position. He walked around you and you opened your mouth to make another comment, stopping when his hand came around from behind and gently shut your jaw. “Don’t say anything.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he spoke. He was closer than you thought, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. You shivered when his hands landed on your back, fixing your posture before they made their way to your waist. He gripped your waist firmly, shifting you into position before leaning forwards slightly, whispering in your ear once more. “Do it again.”

Fighting a blush, you did as you were told. You chuckled breathlessly when you did it correctly this time, a blast of fire leaving your hand at the right moment.

“See? You did it,” Zuko said, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re a natural.”

You bounced up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck in excitement. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, enjoying the closeness of the hug. You leaned back slightly, meeting his eyes as you smiled cheesily. “It’s only because I have such a great teacher.”

The two of you walked back to the beach house, joking around after a long day of training. Upon entering the beach house, Katara pulled you aside. “(Y/N)! Thank goodness. I need your help in the kitchen!”

You gave Zuko an apologetic smile as you followed Katara, being met with an understanding nod as he went off on his own. Katara handed you a tray of cups, smirking slightly before speaking. “So, you and Zuko huh?”

“What? N-No,” you replied immediately.

“I’m talking about firebending. How’s that going?” Katara said, filling the cups with watermelon juice as she arched an eyebrow.

A bright blush spread across your cheeks as you realized what she was talking about. “O-Oh. It’s going great. Zuko’s been teaching me some advanced moves now!”

Katara hummed in reply, waving you away now that the cups were full. You headed out of the kitchen in a hurry, loosing your footing when you heard Katara speak yet again.

“I bet the next move he makes is gonna be on you.”

~

The conversation between you and Katara was basically forgotten as the days went by. 

Zuko had informed the Gaang about his father’s plan to destroy the Earth Kingdom, causing you all to worry greatly. In addition, Aang had disappeared overnight and all attempts to find him had been futile.

And that’s how you found yourselves following June and her shirshu as she led you to Ba Sing Se, where Zuko’s Uncle Iroh was supposed to be. You had been warmly welcomed by the Order of the White Lotus and Zuko and Iroh had made up, leaving you with only a day to plan out what you were going to do before Sozin’s comet arrived.

It was quickly decided that the Order of the White Lotus would stay behind and reclaim Ba Sing Se while Sokka, Suki, and Toph would set out to destroy the airship fleet. Zuko had asked you and Katara to join him in defeating Azula and although Katara had agreed immediately, you were a bit hesitant. Of course, Zuko noticed and he decided to confront you about it.

“(Y/N),” Zuko said, coming up to you when you were prepping Appa for the ride. Katara was a few yards away, giving the two of you privacy. You glanced at Zuko before climbing onto Appa’s saddle, the prince following closely behind you. “What’s wrong?”

“Zuko, I,” you paused, breathing deeply. “I shouldn’t go. I just started bending and what is something goes wrong? I don’t want to be a liability to y-”

“Hey,” Zuko whispered, ducking his head to make eye contact with you. “I meant what I said on Ember Island. You’re a natural. You’ll be fine.”

You sighed before hugging your knees to your chest. “I just can’t believe that I’m actually returning to the Fire Nation, even if it’s to help you reclaim your throne. I’m just glad that maybe under your rule, things might finally change.”

Zuko stayed quiet before standing up and reaching for his bag. He shuffled around for a moment before kneeling behind you, his fingers gently grabbing your hair.

“What are you-”

“Shh,” Zuko cut you off. “Give me a second.”

His fingers weaved through your hair, putting it up into a style you were all too familiar with. He was gentle with his actions, letting his hands fall to your shoulders when he was done. “There.”

You reached up, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed over the sunstone that you had known your whole life.

“M-My hairpiece,” you gasped, tears springing to your eyes as you realized how much you had missed it. “How did you-”

“I found it at the Western Air Temple,” Zuko interrupted quietly. “It was after I came to you guys the first time. Katara sent me away and when I was walking under a balcony, it fell onto the ground. I recognized it so I picked it up. I assumed you would want it back at some point.”

Zuko fell backwards when you threw yourself at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. A tiny gasp escaped him and you pulled back, meeting his eyes as he stared down at you. The two of you stared at each other for a few tense seconds before you both leaned forwards rapidly, your lips meeting in the middle.

Maybe it was a spur of the moment decision, kissing Zuko. Maybe it was due to to the anxiety bubbling up in you, your emotions hard to control as you prepared to end of the war in one way or another. Or maybe, it was simply two teenagers too shy to tell each other how they felt, finally sharing a tender moment.

“So, are we ready to go?” Katara asked. The two of you sprung apart, blushes on both of your faces as the Water Tribe girl smirked at you. Zuko nodded and you looked away, taking your place at Appa’s reins.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Yip yip.”

~

The fight had been a blur to you. You didn’t remember much other than the fact that Zuko had taken a bolt of lightning meant for you. After Zuko had been injured, you and Katara had teamed up to take Azula down. She had challenged you to an Agni Kai after striking Zuko and you had accepted in order to lure her away from his body. To say she had been surprised when you actually fought back with fire was an understatement.

With Katara’s help, you managed to chain her to an old grate before rushing over to aid Zuko. After Katara had done all she could, you helped Zuko into the palace where he had been taken to the infirmary. You hadn’t seen him since.

You had however, met back up with Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Suki. They informed the two of you of what they had done and in turn you had told them about Zuko’s injury. They were all worried about him but after hearing that Katara had healed him, they were slightly relieved.

The next time you saw the prince was on the day of his coronation. Some of the palace guards had come for you, stating that Zuko was requesting your presence. You felt your heart jump into your throat as you nodded, allowing them to lead you through the palace until you came to a pair of gilded doors.

“He’s in there,” one of the guards said. “Would you like us to announce your arrival?”

“No, it’s fine. I can just knock,” you said meekly, causing the guards to smile amusedly. You bowed shortly to them before turning to face the door, gently knocking and waiting for a response.

“Come in!”

The door swung open at your touch and you awkwardly stepped inside, still standing near the doorway as your gaze landed on Zuko.

“Close it,” he said, his voice quiet yet rough. You complied, stepping aside and shutting the door before inching closer. He was shirtless, thick bandages covering his torso. Covering the new scar he had earned because of you. He turned around, his face softening when his eyes met yours.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes scanning you for injuries the way he did back when Azula raided the Western Air Temple.

“Hi, how are you?” you squeaked, shuffling awkwardly. You winced at your words, blushing in embarrassment as Zuko’s lips quirked up. He walked over to his bed before picking up the shirt he was going to wear.

“I’m fine. How are you?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips as he began to put it on. His smile dropped as he moved too harshly, pain shooting through his torso as he struggled to pull the fabric on.

“Spirits! Be careful,” you said, all embarrassment leaving you as you rushed forwards and took the shirt from his hands. “Here, let me.”

You helped him slide one arm in before slipping it over his shoulders and guiding his other arm in as well. You grabbed the belt used to hold it in place before standing in front of him. Your breath caught in your throat as you eyed the bandages, guilt settling in your stomach as you softly placed a hand on his chest. Zuko’s hands automatically went to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he stared at you worriedly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still looking at his chest. “This was my fault.”

“Hey,” Zuko replied, one of hands leaving your waist to lift your chin. You shivered softly at the action, your eyes finally meeting his bright gold ones. “It wasn’t your fault. Azula shouldn’t have done it in the first place. She challenged me to an Agni Kai, not you.”

“You should’ve let it hit me,” you said, looking at him sadly. “I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if Katara hadn’t been there. Zuko, you could’ve d-”

Your eyes widened and your words died on your throat when Zuko leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours. The hand that was still on your waist wrapped around you, pulling you closer as Zuko kissed you gently. He began to pull away after a few seconds, noticing your lack of response. Mentally kicking yourself, you began to kiss back, closing your eyes as you wrapped your free arm around his neck to keep him close. Zuko couldn’t help but smile at your response.

“I took that hit because I love you, (Y/N),” Zuko whispered, finally pulling away and leaning his forehead against yours. “I couldn’t let Azula hurt you.”

“Zuko, I-I love you too,” you confessed, your eyes still closed. Suddenly, you pulled away before gently swatting his head. “But that doesn’t make what you did any less stupid.”

“Hey! I saved your life!” he exclaimed, rubbing his head.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes before hugging him close once again. “And I love you for it. But never, and I mean never, do that again.”

“No promises,” Zuko replied, guiding your lips to his once more. This kiss was different, full of trust and love and peace.

You pulled away reluctantly, fixing his shirt and looping the belt around him before taking his hand. “Now let’s go. You have a coronation to get to.”

Zuko stopped for a second, pulling you back to him as he looked at you uncertainly. You looked up at him curiously, prompting him to speak.

“Are you-” Zuko stopped abruptly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Will you stay with me? Here? Even after everyone else leaves?”

You hesitated for a split second, remembering everything that you had suffered at the hands of the Fire Nation. You opened your mouth to reply, looking up to meet Zuko’s gaze. You faltered for a moment, taking in the way he was looking at you. Here in front of you stood the crown prince, the very symbol of the nation that you had spent the majority of your life hating. But he was also just a teen, and he was willing to put in the work to fix the Fire Nation’s past mistakes.

Your heart swelled in your chest as you thought about the golden-eyed boy , and everything he had done to help the Avatar. Because of him, the Fire Nation now had a chance at redemption, and you knew it wouldn’t be easy to undo centuries of imperialism and pain. Especially not when it was so deeply rooted in the nation. And so you answered his question, confident that you were making the right decision.

“Of course I’ll stay, Zuko. And I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

~

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[itonje]

hey sexy stranger who is not me would you like to talk about therese

hello sexy stranger who is not me i WOULD like to talk about therese aka theresa but i changed her name a little bit cause it didnt sound like. idk french enough

anyways therese florien is louis florien (oc)'s younger sister and also the last monarch of the northern empire (actually when she became queen she was the last monarch of just the north because the south and the west had broken off by that point but we'll get to that).

in the main story, 20-30 years after all these events ill be telling later take place, samira and the rest of the continent know her as 'The Coward Queen/Tea-time Queen' because she only ruled for a couple days and immediately forsook the throne when the southern and ko'bi army approached the capital. currently, she resides in the florien ancestral home (summerhead) on the northern continent, and she's converted the castle into both a prayer place and a place where travelers and vagabonds and so on can stay for safety. and she's basically become like a priestess . long long long backstory under the cut

anyways . the first we know of her is that she's louis' younger sister, she's very religious, she's very timid, and she's very close to her father gareth...there are reasons for the last two that have to do with her late mother lorete. so like. louis is a sorcerer which lorete discovered when he was just a child (northern sorcerers are believed to be willingly practicing dark magic against their religion or whatever) and the florien family is already in some deep shit with the royal family (tldr floriens used to be the royal family, were deposed and murdered and so on and also gareth pissed off his cousin back when they were in their twenties or whatever, this will all be relevant later) and so lorete knew that her son would be taken away/the family wld be punished or whatever adn devoted all her attention towards her son and towards concealing his magic from everyone, including his father.

and when she gives birth to therese, her attention is still all lazer focused on louis, and gareth, who doesn't know why she's ignoring her in the first place basically raises his daughter alone up until lorete dies of an outbreak of plague or whatever when therese is four and then he's raising the eight year old louis AND therese alone. therese's timidity comes from both the paranoia her mother exuded when she was little, lorete's death, the fact that when she was young she saw a jousting accident involving her father in which a man died. her piousness comes from the fact that the only thing she really did when she was younger was pray and read while her father was out doing knightly duties (cough cough colonizing) and it provided an outlet for her to vent her emotions ab her upbringing

also, there's a conspiracy the floriens were involved in with a couple other families set up by gareth's grandmother to restore the florien family on the throne (re: louis would become king when the time came) so like even then everyone always gave her brother attention over her because they were convinced he would be king and she was just the second child they didn't care about. in this world like women are as eligible to inherit and own land just as much as men btw louis was just the eldest

anyways because of her very like. kind of stuck up religious nature, her fear, and because the floriens are already kind of pariahs her first friends are just louis' friends, charicle elaphin (the elaphins are a family close 2 the floriens) and the strange iloro girl whos in training to be a knight (kidlat, but her 'northern name' is claire), but they get along very well, making a little sort of friend group.

as the years get on, therese really keeps herself busy just by taking care of her, who's very infirm, and reading more theological stuff (like by her hero, her ancestor aveline florien who was a priestess and religious reformer) and even writing a bit of her own stuff. to the outside world though, her interiority is looked down upon and royal family supporters (ie, against the floriens) even spread rumors about her, like that she's a secret sorcerer or something (the florien family has always had accusations of sorcery flung against them, little do they know there is a witch in her family but it's her brother who's actually the sorcerer)

we mostly either see her thru the perspective of kidlat, who likes her but feels a bit alienated to her like how kidlat feels alienated by everything northern, or louis who is like. apathetic towards her like he feels some affection for her because they're siblings of course but he's not really close to her and he thinks her piousness is self righteous and finds her deep fear and timidity unpleasant to deal with...tho, his greatest resentment towards her comes from the fact that he's always felt his father has preferred her over him (he does btw. like louis isn't wrong lol)

anyways the royal family sets up a wedding for her because louis refuses to be married, and claims this is out of love for their cousins, but this is just really a ploy to royally piss off gareth by taking his other child away from his household (something they already did to louis), and therese is um. well she's very angry and upset about this, which louis (and no one else, except for her father ofc) doesn't realize until the day of her wedding when he's getting her ready. she doesn't want to leave her father and summerhead, she wants to devote her life to the Goddess instead of some random husband, and she, like the rest of the floriens incl louis feels very humiliated and cheated by the way she's being treated when she has the right to the throne, when she and co should be in charge....this surprises louis because. he didnt know other people had feelings. also at some point therese wants to ask charicle to marry her instead because he's very religious as well and he's gay so neither of them would have pressure to feel love for the other, but louis tells her to not do that by saying oh well he's half western you're a florien almost-princess which convinces her to not do that

anyways she does get married to this guy, and has a kid (eventually), but continues to constantly visit her own family and gareth dies of like. natural causes or whatever (also stress because of louis being a cunt asshole or whatever and therese leaving him and colonizer guilt and a bad leg infection and honestly the man had a lot going on tbh) which really really bums her out, louis also yells at her because again, poorly hidden resentment over his father's preferential treatment of her which makes her even more upset

also later on when the king is dying she tries to pray for him at his bedside but the queen, who again, does not like the floriens, gets mad, calls her a witch and devil or whatever whos killing him, tries to beat her etc, and finally therese has had it she's HAD it and her big joker breaking point moment is. throwing a shoe at the queen and calling her a 'very godless lady'

anyways later later after aeetes (yeah remember him) kills prince edouard, who was about to be crowned king, and the west, galvanized by the south breaking off and the death of the Sort of King, breaks off as well and starts waging war against the northern forces, the remaining northern lords are like. well shit. whos going to be in charge. maybe the floriens again? but..... louis has already ran off chasing after the deserter kidlat (and unbeknownst to everyone, has died in a tragic mysterious Axe Murder Accident) so the crown goes to...you guessed it....therese! anyways she's crowned, only of the north, which is the only nation the crown has juristiction over at this point, but when the southern and ko'bi forces annihilate the remainder of the loyal northern knights (many northern families have tried to start their own factions to try to reconquer the continent, even fighting each other..this is not working) and move up to take the throne a couple days afterward, her deep fear that she's always carried with her leads to her immediately forfeiting the crown and running away....

i wrote a little something from her perspective on her coronation, basically she believes that the goddess has put this in her hands for a reason, she believes and knows she's truly the heir to the great florien kings and queens, she's apathetic towards the (supposed) death of her brother because um. the way he treated her for all of her life, though she does feel a great emptiness now that he's gone, she wishes her mother and father were there to see her, but there's always that. undercurrent of anxiety and uncertainty she's always had. so you can kind of see what she eventually does coming from a mile away

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Loving the sailors while hating the beach (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 3.)

Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part summary: As you spent another day with the mysterious man who invited you to stay at his place as a sign of his selflessness, you started to notice that Forks really is a strange town. And on top of that, that Jacob might be hiding something.

A/N: NCIS Forks be strong in this chaper, oh boy. 

Tagging: @missdictatorme​

Word count: 4.2 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

The night fell on Forks slowly, almost as if it was lurking around for some time before covering the streets. For some time, you've been sitting in a super-small cubbyhole named the 'Administrative office'. Administrative up your ass, you barely didn't knock off the brooms you've been sharing the room with. It shouldn't surprise you that you were falling asleep while writing small numbers into the boxes. You've also picked up a few phones - for such a small town, there was a lot of cars just suddenly breaking down. But Jacob sometimes even took small jobs around in the smaller towns around forks - like La Push, Beaver, and Sappho.

It wasn't even nine hours when you were snoozing with your head in your palm because you've simply fallen asleep. Also, it was weird to see Jacob walking around the whole building, checking on the heating - as if he wasn't turning the heating on in such cold. It was summer and the city was still cold as hell. And this mechanic wasn't turning on his heating system? What kind of crazy he was? The man has woken you up after ten minutes, sending you to bed - yet you didn't know that he didn't walk to bed that night. As soon as he heard snoring coming out of the visitor's bedroom, Jacob made sure the door to the small flat were locked before he ran into the woods. It was time to check with the other guys - Jared and Paul, two of his friends from Sam Uley's spent their whole day on the northern route, trying to find out something more about the unwanted visitors of Forks.

At first, the werewolves weren't entirely sure if there was any vampires close at the moment. If it wasn't just some... Re-awakening of the spirit animals. That was until two days ago - now, the whole packs have transformed once again. Every night Jacob had turned into a wolf, he growled sadly when he realized there was someone he hadn't heard before - first, it was Quil alone. The man was confused, as most of them. Both of them were praying for Quil to be the last. But he wasn't - Embry and Seth coming right the night after Quil's turning. Leah was the last to join. In the meantime, Sam's pack turned at once as well. It was just like five years ago.

'Welcome back to the game, chief.' - Seth's happy and joyful voice started to talk inside Jacob's head. As he was getting closer to the manger of the Calawah river, he could hear two other wolves joining him. It was Embry and Seth - rest of the pack got their tasks the last night and went on a watch and tracking the vampire pack. Jake could hear most of the things Quil and Leah told them. - 'We know they are here. We captured the smell...' - The leader mumbled to Seth, running along the river. They weren't sprinting because there wasn't a reason to do so. Quil nor Leah hadn't smelled the rotten tomato stench the whole day, as if the vampires had suddenly disappeared into the thin air.

'Don’t worry, Jake. We'll take all of them down.' - Embry answered from the other side. Dear Lord, Jacob almost didn't notice that Embry is there, even if he knew that he's coming. He could be so quiet at times. - 'I'm silent like death, yeah, suit yourself.' - Embry answered Jake's flow of thoughts, making a few pampering sounds. This was how the wolves were laughing. To some, it could sound almost horrifying, but it made Jacob giggle as well. Giggling, when the boys were in their animal forms was a wild combination of growling and strange throat sounds. - 'Yeah, but admit, it's strange. No stench, no track, we can't find them. It's like playing blind man's buff.'

The vampires seemed to be poking around in the woods as if they were trying to find a blind spot. Maybe they already did find some. But Charlie, when Jacob was calling him earlier, didn't report any missing person. Yet all of them were sure that as soon as the vampires find the smallest cranny in the defense, it will go down. As soon as they smell a chance, it will go down. At last, this half of the pack was on the meeting point. Sam was already sitting there, watching Jacob approaching the estuary of the Bogachiel and Quillayute rivers. - 'Keep it down for a moment, alright, boys?' - Jacob asked Embry and Seth, who were waiting in a respectful distance. Embry was almost always quiet and Seth, even though there was a huge grin on his face, knew better than talking to alphas communicating. - 'I have news from Quil and Leah. They were walking the trail up at Calawah. What about your people?' - There was no greeting needed - the russet wolf simply shook his head at the bigger, black one. - 'Nothing. It's like searching for a ghost.'

Jacob had to say, that even if he wasn't in Sam's pack anymore, he liked that Sam kept it simple - no matter what happened, Sam never gave anyone too complex orders. - 'Nothing on our part of the territory as well. We will be trying to search through the North, there's lesser of us. Would your pack take the South?' - Jacob planned on trying to search through the whole Northern region, up to the Ozette Lake. There was a lot of tricky canyons smaller rivers, pounds and the vegetation was thick there as well. There was a suspicion that maybe, this time, this group of vampires was hiding next to a water source. He already had experience with the leeches hiding in the sea, why wouldn't they bivouac in a lake? - 'Sure. I'll send Jared and Brady to Hoh Ox, Lucas, and I will go a bit western closer to Oil city. We'll gather here in the morning and give all the information to Seth so he can tell everything to the morning patrol, okay?' - Without answering the question, Jacob and the rest of his small pack got up, running through the ice-cold waters of the river.

Most of the night, it was quiet and calm - sometimes, when the silence was too long, Seth started to throw in some jokes. Most of them were pretty cringe, but some made Jacob snicker under his breath. It was almost time to regroup and set to the meeting point when the whole pack felt it through Embry's eyes. The fur on the back of his neck stood up, his whole body tensed, and growls unintentionally escaped through his tests. Just as he saw a woman standing on top of one huge cliff, looking down on him, the pack tried to get to Embry's position as soon as possible.

The animal wasn't holding anything back - as soon as it saw the woman, it sprang forward to kill her. But she just leaned her head to her shoulder, furrowing at the sight. It appeared as if she wasn't even taken away by seeing such a huge wolf. Based on the stench, she realized this wasn't just some wolf, but she hadn't even flinched. - 'Embry, don't!' - Jacob cried out just when Embry made his way onto the cliff, trying to take the cold woman down. Yet just when the wolf almost caught her ankle in his mouth, she jumped down while still studying every move the animal made.

She wasn't supposed to attack, no. Her posture was strictly curious, careful - the woman might tease them a bit, see how they react, but she surely wasn't about to strike back. She was a scout, sent there by her pack to study the animals. Sam's pack might've encountered another one. - 'Back off, Embry. She's just playing with you!' - Seth, who realized it as well, called out. - 'He's right. wait for us and then we'll try to chase her down!' - Jacob yelled at his friend and jumped onto the lake's beach, circling at the woman's back. It didn't take too long until Seth slowly walked out of the woods on the other side. The woman was quietly scanning all of them and Jacob's size certainly did surprise her. Embry was huge - but Jacob was even bigger.

'We won't catch her, no matter what we do. She isn't going to attack.' - Seth realized and started analyzing her back. At this, the woman smiled and started to lean her head just like Seth was. The pack was still closing on her, but as soon as she would feel threatened she'll simply run away. - "Interesting." - She mumbled and closed her eyelids a bit. - "We don't wanna hurt you. We won't be attacking you or your packs - we just want free access to the city, that's it." - The woman cried out. A terrifying grin appeared on her face for a second as the thought she might succeed. The deep growling came from everyone's mouth at the same time, giving her exactly the answer she needed. - "So you have chosen death. I'll tell it to the others." - And with that, she disappeared. As if she wasn't there, as if she just disappeared into the thin air. The wolves watched each other. The scent didn't lead them too far into the woods, it was as if the woman was just a dream.

Forks, 9:00 a.m.:

You were sleeping in the bed, safe and sound. Your mouth tasted disgusting, and you had a slight headache - you didn't even want to see your damn hair. Even if you knew it was just a lie, the room felt too warm for a moment. For the first time during your road trip, you weren't feeling cold. Lazily, you searched for your phone and read through the news and such. Then your eyes flought to the clock - oh Lord, Jacob had to open the workshop already, hadn't he? And there you were, laying in the bed, covered in a thick blanket.

Never in your life before, you had dressed as quick as you did that morning. Just when you wanted to run into the bathroom, as you opened door to your room, you heard snoring shaking every piece of pottery. With a straight face, you looked at its source - it was the man himself, somehow puzzled on his small sofa - his hands and one of his leg were laying on the ground, his hair was way messier than yours and also, the blanket was too small for someone like him. Jesus, he must've come back so late, you didn't even want to stop yourself.

As you were tiptoeing around the sofa, you noticed something - his feet. They were covered in soil and needles as if he was walking around in the woods barefooted. What was he doing late, in the woods, and barefooted? Was he searching the best location for a grave? Was he checking out his secret killer case hidden in the woods? With risen eyebrows, you locked yourself in the bathroom. At first, you thought he was just working late. That was it. But the soil on his feet made you insecure. Quickly, you brushed your teeth, combed your hair, and sneaked out of the flat. For a moment, you were thinking about walking to talk to Charlie.

While standing in front of the back door, you were biting on your lower lip and tried to figure out what to do. But in the end, you closed the door again and walked to the 'Administration office' to work on another part of the messy paperwork. Dear Lord, Jacob was bad with bureaucracy. In this, he was honest with you. Sometimes, you couldn't even read what was written down on the paper - so you were re-writing the text and sums on a fresh document while lamenting about his messy handwriting. Jacob came in barely half an hour after you. Yet the man was so quiet he almost gave you a heart attack as he stood in the cubbyhole's doorframe. - "Morning to you too." - The man grinned at you when you finally realized he's standing there and yelled out loud for the God's sake. - "Am I looking that bad?" - The man looked all over his body to see if there was something wrong. He was now looking way better than when you saw him laying on the sofa.

His hair was put into a man bun once more, he changed his clothes and presumably took a quick shower. You didnt know what was hiding under these socks. - "I just... Didn't hear you coming. I was really into reading your 'Volkswagen repair... Re-hair..'. Fuck, I can't read it." - With that, you sighed and tried to figure out the hieroglyphs once again. Jacob grinned at your attempts and drank a sip out of his mug of coffee. Silently, you looked him in the eyes - there were deep, black circles. Well, you weren't surprised. Sleeping on that sofa must've messed with him. Yet even the color in his face seemed to be fading away. - "Man, you have coffee?" - You cried out instead of asking him weird, personal questions. - "Uh, I don't wanna break it down to you... But most people have coffee at home or at work. You want some?"

And he brought you the promised cup - along with a slice of apple pie from Mrs. Peterson. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Jacob was working on his cars, humming most of the songs playing on the radio, while you finished the first few months of that year's paperwork. With an overly concentrated face, you categorized the papers into files, thoroughly writing the months they've containing. That was it for the most part.

Sometimes, when your ass started to hurt, you walked around the workshop, and once, you were so courageous that you took your jacket and walked into the freezing Forks. You never walked too far - but dear Lord, wasn't it cold? The mist wasn't supposed to come out of your mouth in August. It couldn't be more than 46 degrees outside, Jesus Christ. And Tacoma was even more on the North.

You've discovered a few peculiarities on your way. There was a real good looking steak restaurant, a library, and a local high school... Which didn't look like high school at all, in your opinion. For the locals, it was clear as a day you weren't from Forks - mainly because anyone who was from the North wouldn't be shaking because they felt cold. The more courageous ones even stopped you, mostly the older women living in the town just so they could brag about talking to the new girl in town. However, they were respectful and nice, always laughing at your attempts to joke.

"Huh. I was thinking about searching for you. I thought you might've frozen somewhere." - Jacob hummed from under the car he was working on at the moment. It looked like an old minivan. Oh, you'd like seeing me freezing somewhere, might as well get your goal easier, huh? You thought to yourself. You also noticed that the radio was playing the Sea Wolf song (which you've heard at least ten times since you arrived at Forks) and that Jacob knew every word of the song. Well, he couldn't be considered a singer, yet this was slightly against your care of this huge man being a killer. What killer would be singing a love song so blatantly? - "I just met some lady named Karen Newton? She was nice, but I couldn't get out of the conversation, dear Lord." - "Oh, old Mrs. Newton? She's super nosy. What was she asking you about?" - Suddenly, his face appeared from under the car as he was searching for his rug. - "The basics, I guess. Why I'm here, what's my name, how old I am... She seemed very happy when I told her how old I am." - Throughout the small talk, you've taken off your jacket and sat on the 'Administration office's' chair while looking at Jacob drinking a whole cup of super hot coffee. His eating and drinking habits were making you a bit uneasy, but whatever.

"Dear Lord. I'll tell you why is that." - The man sat on his small chair as well, looking back at you. - "She has a son named Mike. And she's trying to find him a girlfriend... Again. Do expect the boy suddenly appearing here soon." - Oh. Okay. So she wasn't just nice... She was trying to figure out if you're good enough for her son. Mrs. Newton didn't seem to be thrilled by your career choice, but her eyes started to shine when you answered her question about having a partner. - 'No, I'm single.' - You told her. That was a misstep. - "But, worry not, even though he's not on my list of favorite people, most people say he's a nice guy." - "Unbelievable!" - A squeal came out of you as you started to laugh from the bottom of your belly. - "I'm here one day and you already think about who I should date. Oh God, that's why I don't like small towns!"

Jacob smiled into his mug. He hadn't seen someone laugh so hard for a long time - and honestly, it was nice to take some time off the vampire-hunting thing to think about stupidities like dating and such. - "I just think that two weeks is a lot of time. This seems like fun." - The man mumbled and climbed back on his small assembly bed. You couldn't understand how the thing could be still standing on its small wheels under his weight, but you weren't wrapping your brain around it too much. - "I also saw a pretty dope steak house like... Five minutes from here." - Okay, this was interesting. His head appeared from below the car once again. - "Do I look like I'm looking for someone to date? No, thank you." - With that, he disappeared again, leaving you to sit there with a subdued expression.

This was straightaway rude. There was the cold, annoyed man once more. And yes, it almost ruined your day. Jacob just flipped at least by 180° in front of you, showing you the fed up man once again. It was the mysterious Bella, wasn't it? Also, who was asking him out on a date? There was a cool-looking restaurant near the workshop and you didn't want to cook all the damn time. Dear Lord, you were in the temptation to spit something about split personality disorder, but you just sipped your coffee to keep your mouth shut. - "All I'm saying is that instead of sitting there the whole time and cooking all the time, we might at least consider take out." - Well, you were firing in the same tone as he was. Under the car, he muttered out a few curse words. The man realized he might go too harsh after you.

It was just... It sounded like a date proposition, to be honest. And there was a lot of going on for Jacob at the moment - the stress of shifting again, a vampire hunt... And to be honest, he still didn't get over what happened with Bella - so even though you didn't have any idea about who the hell she was, you were right in this. - "Sure. Take out sounds good." - Jacob told you when you were sitting in your cubbyhole once again, continuing to do your job.

The rest of the day was more or less quiet and calm - Jacob finished the minivan and started to poke around with your Beetle, at least until an old man came for the car. As you got to know when he introduced himself, this was Mr. Newton and Karen's husband. When he realized who you were, he started to apologize for his wife and the bunch of super-weird and awkward questions. He promised you that in any case, his son won't be asking you out just because Karen liked you. No way in hell.

It was that evening when Jacob finished half of the first step with your car - he cleaned most of the inside, mainly around the engine, and started to make a specific list. Said list was meaningless to you since you didn't know jack shit about cars. But Jacob seemed to know what he was doing, so you just continued with doing what you were doing. When the Sea Wolf were playing for the seventh time, that day alone, you were already sure about every word in the chorus. You were singing it along with Jacob.

When it got late, it was time for you to perform a subtle observation of Jacob's behavior. Around the same time as the previous evening, you pretended that you're sleepy as hell - and told him you're going to bed. And since you got to the bed, after a proper hot shower, it was the waiting game from that point on. You've been pretending that you're sleeping and you did so for such a long time that you almost fell asleep for real. But creaking of the floor made you aware that he ended his work in the shop. For a moment, it seemed that he's listening if you're sleeping. After a few pretty convincing snores, you've heard the door creaking again and the door to the small flat locking. With your breath hitched, you tiptoed to the window, leaned your thighs into the warm hearing, and looked from the window - you've heard him locking the garage, so the only possible exit was right under your window.

And he soon came out - he was half-naked, dressed in some torn pants, barefoot again, looking around as if he was making sure that there's no-one who would be watching him. There was a small moment where your breath hitched completely. What in the world was Jacob doing there, without a t-shirt when it was still just 46 degrees there? Quickly, he ran to the woods - and he didn't come out for the whole half an hour you've been looking at the exact spot where he disappeared.

Your throat got swollen as you climbed under the blanket again. Sure, you had the suspicion he might hurt you at some point, but you knew that the fear is irrational for the most part. You've been just freaked out by large dudes since... That happened. This was making you feel very uneasy and unsafe. Who would disappear in the woods dressed like that when it was so damn cold? How long was he just walking around? Or what was he doing in there?

Could he be a killer of sorts? Was this man dangerous? Did he hurt someone before? Bullocks, you stopped yourself. Charlie seemed to be fond of the man. And he was the crown cop of Forks. No way in hell police chief would be in on this as well... Or would he? The terror was making your sleep very bad. You were waking up every half an hour because you had pretty vivid, intense nightmares.

It was at around three in the morning, you've been up for some time, when you heard Jacob walking into the flat, locking the door behind him. He was... Limbing? It sounded as if he had trouble walking straight - he knocked something over on his way to the sofa. When he crashed there, a loud sound made you aware he did so, you heard him whine for a while before he got up again - presumably to put some clothes on. Then, after some time, you heard his body falling onto the small sofa once more. With closed eyes, you've been listening to the whole process and the silence after. After another hour of laying in the bed, not letting out a single sound, you carefully got up. Deep snoring was residing through the few rooms Jacob had in his flat. You've opened up the door carefully, making sure it won't creak and stuck your head out. With a furrow, your gaze scanned the sleeping man.

Again, his hair was let down, the blanket was too small for him and his whole feet were covered in the soil. Did he think you won't notice? As you closed the door, you sighed against your will. There has been something going on in Forks - and Jacob was heavily involved in this. You decided to observe him for at least two days, to make sure he does this regularly and then... What will you do then? As you laid under the blanket again, your legs got cold and you finally realized what you had to do.

You had to follow him and see what was going on.

[sapphirestarxx]

Chapter 13

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~☆~ 

When morning broke everyone prepared themselves for the visit to what had to be Tsubaki’s estate, eating quickly and dressing for a confrontation. Whatever was awaiting them at that house was not going to be friendly, but whether or not Tsubaki would be there remained to be seen. None of them thought she would, however; she knew they had found her location and also knew that they had to be coming for her. No, it was much more likely she was long gone and some kind of nasty surprise had been left behind for them. Still, this was the only real lead they had on her and they couldn’t afford to not pursue it. 

Sango and Miroku picked up Inuyasha and Kagome at the Higurashi Shrine and then they headed out once all their weapons were loaded up into the car. Sango used her phone’s GPS to lead the way to the address that had been revealed to them by the location ritual. None of them spoke as Sango drove, all of them feeling the pressure. A sense of trepidation hung in the air among them.

For Sango, part of that trepidation was due to the shikigami bite she had received the night before. Despite Miroku’s insistence that they hold off on pursuing Tsubaki until they all got some rest, she hadn’t gotten much sleep as she found it difficult to quiet her mind. Instead she spent the night trying not to toss and turn too much and disturb his own rather peaceful-looking slumber. His words had reassured her, but they still couldn’t completely quell the knot of anxiety in her chest or the way her instincts were screaming at her that something was off.

Eventually the place began to come into view as the car approached the address, and Miroku and Kagome both sat up straighter then leaned forward slightly, their eyes intent. As they grew closer the estate seemed to be closed off by a high brick wall winding around the whole of it, a black wrought-iron gate the only visible way in or out. The sight of all the Japanese ivy weaving its way through the bars and over the top as well as the sight of the placard detailing the address matched their vision exactly.

“This is it.” Kagome confirmed.

“It looks exactly like what we saw during the ritual.” Miroku agreed while Sango slowed the car down, stopping in front of the closed gate. 

“The gate’s closed. We may need to open it ourselves.” Sango remarked as the engine idled.

“Keh, that’s no problem. I’ll just--” Inuyasha began, but as he spoke the gate started to move, opening inwards and allowing them entrance onto the estate grounds.

“That was very ominous.” Kagome said. “Who...who do you think opened it?”

“I have no idea, but I’m going in.” Sango replied as she drove past the gate and up the path of the driveway stretching before them, finally coming to a stop in front of the imposing structure. It was just like what Miroku and Kagome had described in the images the location ritual had revealed to them.

The house, if you could call it that, was huge. It stretched three stories high, the western-style mansion made of brick the color of charcoal and the slanting roof tiled with gray terracotta shingles. The curtains were drawn on all the windows, a solid black that contrasted with the dingy white of the window panes and shutters; they were the only spot of light in a sea of darkness. Even though it was the middle of the day and the sun was shining brightly, the mansion seemed to swallow any illumination, replacing it with shadows. An aura of evil surrounded the place, but considering who it belonged to and the kinds of things that must have taken place within its walls, that observation held no answers as to what waited for them inside.

Leaving the confines of the car they all retrieved their weapons and walked up the steps to stand before the tall red doors. After a slight hesitation by everyone, Inuyasha scoffed and gripped the door handle firmly before unceremoniously yanking it wide open.

“We gonna stand here all day or are we gonna go in?” He snarked as he strode inside and they followed closely behind after exchanging glances between themselves. Despite his blase attitude, his senses were on high alert; his ears, eyes, and nose taking everything in and searching for any possible threats. 

Carefully, Sango and Miroku entered last right behind Kagome, who lingered close to Inuyasha’s side while gripping her bow tightly. As they stepped fully across the dark threshold the door swung shut behind them with an air of finality, sealing them inside. A sense of dread began to pool within Sango’s stomach and she had the very morbid thought of feeling as though the house around them had become a tomb. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Miroku lightly brushed her hand with his own and she released a breath at the reassuring touch but otherwise gave no outward acknowledgement of his gesture. The brief moment passed between them and they readied themselves for a fight.

When the door slammed shut Kagome gave a squeak of surprise but otherwise made no move other than to cast her gaze about. It was futile due to the darkness that encompassed everything. The only one of them who had a hope of seeing anything was Inuyasha, with his demonic senses. And then suddenly it wasn’t dark anymore as the lights came on with the same eerie abruptness of the entrance gate opening and the front doors closing.

Blinking rapidly against the sudden influx of white light, Sango waited for her eyes to adjust before scanning their surroundings. Marble flooring stretched from where they stood in a large foyer, continuing beyond the doorways at the far side of the hall. From the ceiling hung a grand chandelier encrusted with crystals that sparkled from the wash of light it cast all over the entryway, bright and blinding. A split staircase began on either side of the foyer, the railings and banisters made of a fine dark wood, before rising a story high and meeting in the middle, a balcony connecting them and overlooking the entryway. The whole scene radiated opulence. And there, up on the balcony, was a little boy sitting on the railing with his feet dangling over the edge. 

“You’re here!” He cheered, grinning widely and displaying a set of fangs. His hair was white with a soft wave to it, falling just past his ears and it added to the image of cute innocence he projected, along with the boyish set to his features; the softness of his mouth and the roundness of his cheeks. But it was his eyes that gave him away-- they were glowing red embers devoid of anything but a thirst for chaos and suffering. Looking into their depths it was impossible to mistake this demon for anything other than what he truly was. Despite the unmistakable physical signs the little boy didn’t give off a demonic aura. In fact, he gave off no aura at all.

“I’ve been waiting since last night and I’m soooo bored!” He continued with a pout, gripping the railing he was sitting on with his hands and beginning to swing his legs. 

“Who the fuck are you and where the fuck is Tsubaki?” Inuyasha demanded.

“I'm Satoshi!” The demon told them, smiling again. “As for Tsubaki, she couldn’t make it and sends her regrets. Don’t worry, though! I’ve been ordered to stay behind and entertain you.”

“Entertain us, how?” Miroku questioned, feeling a sense of foreboding creep over him.

“You’ll see. It’s going to be so much fun.” Satoshi replied, his smile shifting to something more sinister. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. At the gesture both Sango and Inuyasha felt something inside them emerge and take root. It quickly spread throughout the whole of their bodies and Satoshi laughed, red eyes narrowing in glee as he took in his handiwork. They both winced, Sango wrapping her arms around herself to try to steady herself and Inuyasha gripping his head with a hand as if the sheer force of his will could hold whatever this was at bay. It was clear they were both trying to fight something inside themselves and Miroku and Kagome watched with growing concern, unsure of what was happening or what to do.

“What have you done to them?!” Kagome cried, looking from Inuyasha to Sango before focusing her gaze on Satoshi. Even as she yelled out her question a part of her already knew the answer.

“I triggered the curse lying in wait inside them just now, a curse delivered to them by the shikigami’s bite. It’s not something you can sense with your spiritual powers if it’s dormant which is why you probably found nothing last night.” Satoshi explained. “I bet you and the monk tried, though, didn’t you? Hehehe!” 

“That explains why we couldn’t sense anything wrong.” Miroku said grimly.

“That curse is my specialty. I can take complete control over anyone and make them do whatever I want! These guys are supposed to be your protectors, right? Well now they’re your enemies!” Satoshi’s childish voice was full of delight and he clapped his hands together in excitement.

During this whole exchange Sango gasped, feeling something burrowing through her and it felt as though it was hooking itself into her every muscle and joint, taking total control. Biting her lip hard enough to taste her own blood, she struggled against it but felt herself losing the battle.

‘Attack him. Hurt him. Break his bones. You want to see his blood.’

She shook her head as if she could rid herself of the voice inside but it was no use. More of the same words kept echoing, each rendition more adamant than the last until she was trembling from the force of resisting its commands. Something uninvited had taken up residence inside her, just as she had feared, and in a matter of moments it was going to completely overtake her. Force her to do its dark bidding, to hurt Miroku. No! Seconds later she wasn’t even able to move her head, paralyzed and at the complete mercy of this dark thing controlling her.

“Miroku...get away from me. Do it...now!” She managed, forming the words with an immense effort before the last bit of control she had over herself slipped away. Feeling like a stranger inside her own body, she began to reach back to take hold of her Hiraikotsu, preparing to attack.

Looking at her, Miroku saw the blankness of her face and the dead look in her eyes and knew she had been wholly consumed by the curse. That plea had been her last bit of resistance before finally succumbing and he backed away from her, trying to think quickly. If this Satoshi was going to have them fight each other, then removing the curse from her was going to prove extremely difficult.

Only a few feet separated them before Sango swung her Hiraikotsu at him and he ducked, barely avoiding it. The gust of wind stirred up by her weapon passing over his head ruffled his hair and he swallowed. There had been no mistaking the strength or speed behind her attack; she wasn’t holding back. If she landed a hit on him with that weapon it was over. He inwardly swore, putting more distance between them but she attacked again just as swiftly, this time actually throwing the boomerang at him. It cut through the air and he sidestepped just in time, sticking his shakujo out to the side as he did so to knock the weapon off course. 

Her Hiraikotsu struck his shakujo, its rings clinking harshly, and her weapon continued on to crash into the wall behind him rather than return to her waiting grip. The force from the collision between his shakujo and her Hiraikotsu caused him to stumble a bit, sending shocks up his right arm. Sango took advantage of the opening to close the distance he had worked to create between them, drawing her wakizashi. In a matter of seconds she was on him and Miroku had only a split second to regain his footing and defend himself against her attack. Gripping it with both hands he held his shakujo out in front of him to block her sword’s strike. She bore down on him harder, and he gritted his teeth as he pushed back. God, she was so strong. Normally it was a quality he greatly admired in her but right now it was proving to be a problem.

~☆~

Inuyasha was facing his own internal battle, growling and gritting his teeth against the way this thing was infiltrating his very being. He was rapidly losing to the evil presence rising up inside of him. It flowed through him until it had him strung like a marionette. Dark thoughts swirled in his head, taunting him and urging him to do horrible things.

‘Rip her to pieces. Tear the bitch apart with your bare hands. Taste her blood like the animal you are.’

“Kagome...get the fuck away from me right now.” He snarled, trying to step away from her but unable to make himself move on his own accord. Fuck. What the hell had this fucking brat done? Those insidious whispers inside his mind became louder with each passing second, the demands soon impossible to ignore. That last shred of control he had a hold of disappeared into nothing and his own will was forced into submission as he became possessed by the curse.

Kagome hastily moved away from him, her eyes wide. She hated it but she also knew he was right. Inuyasha advanced on her and she felt the full weight of all his youki directed at her for the first time and shivered. The slight flexing of his hands was her only warning before he attacked with all of his demonic speed, his claws poised to rend through her soft, vulnerable flesh. Kagome raised a barrier to shield herself, almost instinctively holding her hands out in front of her and effectively cutting off his attack. 

Her barrier didn’t seem to slow him down or even faze him; he only snarled louder, baring his fangs as he tried to get to her. Slowly backing away from him, her mind raced as she tried to consider her options and he followed her every step of the way, never easing in the ferocity of his attack. What could she possibly do? She refused to fire a sacred arrow at him; it was already hard enough to maintain her barrier even knowing that it hurt him. But what choice did she have if she wanted to avoid getting hurt herself? Sparing a glance around she noticed Sango was fighting Miroku and he was facing a similar struggle to hers, doing his best to fend off her assault. 

An idea occurred to her and keeping her barrier up around her she planted her feet into a stance, pulling her bow from its place over her shoulder and notching it with an arrow. If she could get to the demon pulling their strings, then surely his death would break the curse. Doing her best to block out the sounds of Inuyasha snarling at her and the buzzing of her barrier as it warded him off, she prepared to fire. Taking aim and being careful not to hit Inuyasha, Kagome let the sacred arrow fly. It shot straight towards where Satoshi still sat on the railing of the balcony but rather than sinking into him and purifying his evil it...passed through him? Kagome blinked in confusion.

Satoshi laughed at her attempt and turned his red stare upon her.

“Oh, come on little priestess. You didn’t think I’d keep my real body out here in the open and so vulnerable to attack, did you? You guys are scary!” He fake shivered before laughing again.

~☆~

With all the strength and agility she possessed, Sango swung at Miroku with her wakizashi again, crouching low to aim at his knees and he nimbly dodged out of the way. She twisted her body as she rose to her feet in the same breath and followed up with a spinning kick, landing a solid hit directly to his abdomen. It sent him sprawling onto the ground with a loud grunt. Shit. The breath had been totally knocked from him for a split second. 

"Oooh! That's gotta hurt." Satoshi remarked in mock sympathy from his perch as he watched them fight.

Landing lightly on her feet Sango relentlessly continued her attack, lunging forward and striking down at where he lay prone on the floor. Relying on his instincts more than anything, Miroku quickly rolled to the side and regained his feet, even as he groaned in pain, narrowly avoiding her latest strike. The clang of metal as her blade met the marble of the floor where he laid a second before was loud and echoed around them. There was no pause in her assault, and in one smooth motion she lifted her sword and spun towards him again.

‘That’s definitely going to leave a mark,’ he thought as he dodged and blocked more of her attacks. She was like a panther, sleek and deadly. Her muscles were so powerful and he had never fully appreciated that fact until this very moment. He knew how sculpted they were, of course; he had had the most wonderful privilege of having seen them up close and intimately, after all. But he had never had all that graceful, lethal strength directed at him with intent to kill. Sango was not in control of herself and she wasn’t holding back. He came to the realization that although he didn’t want to hurt her he was going to have to fight her more seriously unless he wanted to get badly injured himself. Or killed.

After exchanging a flurry of blows, Miroku managed to evade her next strike and quickly grabbed her sword arm at the elbow with his left hand. Moving fast he ducked under her arm to step behind her, twisting it with the motion and sticking out his foot to trip her. The pain from having her arm pulled at such an unnatural angle didn’t seem to affect her at all, the grip on her wakizashi failing to loosen. Miroku frowned at the observation. 

Sango tripped, but rather than stumble she used the forward momentum to free herself from his hold, yanking her arm from his grasp. As she moved she turned around in the space of a breath to swing her wakizashi at his neck, planting a foot behind herself to stabilize her weight and reestablish the distance between them. Miroku leaned back in the same instant and barely avoided having his throat cut by her blade. Fire burned from where it had grazed him, leaving behind a thin red line showing just how close she had come. A drop of blood trickled its way down his neck as he breathed hard. 

"And the slayer draws first blood!" Satoshi cheered, fully enjoying himself. "Uh oh, she almost got you. Was it scary? I bet it was! Hehehe!"

"I thought Tsubaki wanted me and Kagome alive so she could take our reiki. Isn't this counter-productive?" He managed to call back, whirling out of the way from another lightning quick strike from Sango.

"Hmmm. I mean I guess that would make her happy but you know, you guys have been so mean and annoying lately that I don't think she cares anymore. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter!" He replied, shrugging. “I think she’d prefer alive but, well, I’m just having so much fun!”

Still trying to think of possible solutions to this impossible situation, Miroku’s mind raced. Sango’s body was a weapon all on its own, but Miroku figured if he could manage to divest her of her actual weapon then he stood a better chance. The way things were going now, he was never going to get close enough to pin her down long enough to free her from the control of the curse. He had no idea if she was aware of everything she was doing or if she had blacked it out. It didn't matter, because either way he had made her a promise and he intended to keep it. 

~☆~

Kagome had her back against the wall, watching as the half demon she was in love with tried desperately to break through her barrier so he could rip her to pieces. Inuyasha had not eased up in his attempts to get to her, snarling and slashing at her with his claws. Looking into his eyes, she saw only feral emptiness in place of his usual fire and unwavering determination.

"Wow, look at all those burns! That's gotta sting. Do you think he feels them?" Satoshi wondered aloud to her before giving an evil grin. "I hope he does."

"You're awful!" Kagome yelled back, her voice cracking with emotion. She wanted to wrap him in every spark of her power and squeeze until there weren't even any ashes left behind of him. Erase him into pure nothingness.

"Oooh, I just love that look on your face, little priestess!" He clapped his hands together in twisted joy.

"Shut up!!!" 

Each time Inuyasha's hands came in contact with her barrier they fried; Kagome didn't know how much more of this she could take. Tears filled her eyes, so close to spilling over and sliding down her pale cheeks. His hands were raw and beginning to bleed; she could see all the horrible burns it was causing, smell the singed flesh, and it made her want to be sick. By protecting herself she was also hurting him and she couldn't stand it anymore. 

Even though she realized what a terrible decision it was she found herself unable to cause him any more pain. Bracing herself, she lowered her barrier and moved quickly to the side, trying to dodge the sweeping strike of his claws. She was no match for his inhuman speed and he raked his talons over her side, drawing blood and causing her to scream out in pain. Reflexively, she lashed out with one of her hands and released a small shock of her power directly into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards away from her. Gasping, her other hand clutched at where he had slashed her and she felt the wetness of her blood.

“Oooh, he got you good!!” Satoshi observed, grinning and cocking his head as he watched them. “Hmm, but you messed up his hands pretty good too. So exciting!”

Locked inside his mind, Inuyasha was aware of everything but he couldn’t fucking do anything, couldn’t stop himself. The anguish in Kagome’s eyes was just about to kill him, but that was nothing compared to when he felt his claws rip into her, felt her blood on his hands. Being the cause of her pain, hurting her...it was one of his worst fears. Why couldn’t he fucking fight it?! 

Inhaling, the smell of Kagome’s blood washed over him and overrode his senses. It was the scent of his mate’s blood, and it called to his demonic half. She was bleeding, she was in pain, she was scared, and none of these things were acceptable to it; her wellbeing was of the utmost importance. His inner demon began to rise in response, attempting to overtake the curse and keep him from harming her further. For the first time in his life Inuyasha did not fight the way it tried to take control. Instead, he welcomed it, standing frozen in place as the strong surge in his youki and aura competed with the commands of the curse running through him.

Kagome stood there, watching him in confusion and a little fear as he breathed harshly and growled. His limbs jerked as if trying to resist the geass of the curse and when he lifted his arms it wasn’t to reach for her but to clutch at his head. Holding her breath, her mind raced as she took in his struggle. Was he fighting it? But how? Had hurting her been the catalyst, allowing him to break through?

Then his aura expanded, billowing out from him in a wave as purple streaks slowly appeared on his face. The whites of his eyes were shifting to red as his golden irises changed into a startling blue. The demon half of him was rising and she stared as he transformed before her eyes, unsure of what was happening now. Was this him fighting the curse or was the curse taking control of his demon side? She had no idea and prayed it was the former.

~☆~

Exchanging a flurry of blows, Sango soon had Miroku cornered with his back against the wall. Raising his shakujo between them he blocked her next strike, sweat trickling down the side of his face. After a short struggle he managed to drive her back a step, thrusting his staff up and out, pushing her wakizashi to the side. With a quick maneuver, Miroku hooked the blade through the loop on the top of his shakujo before pulling up with his staff. It effectively disarmed her and her sword clattered to the marble floor several feet away from where they stood. Wasting no time, Miroku swung his shakujo in the same swift motion at her ankles and knocked her off her feet.

Following her down, he straddled her stomach as he held his shakujo in front of him to try and purify the curse from her. As he leaned forward Sango brought her arms up, triggering the blades at her wrists. He swore and jerked away but was unable to avoid both of them, dodging one as the other cut deep into his right forearm. It sliced through the jacket he was wearing and drew blood, causing him to hiss in a breath and let out a low grunt of pain. Red drops splattered onto her cheek from the wound.

Using all his strength Miroku was finally able to capture both of her wrists in his left hand, pinning them above her head after managing to resheath the blades; there were cuts all over his hands from his efforts. Sango struggled beneath him and he laid his body over hers, pressing down onto her with all his weight to hold her in place. Grabbing his shakujo in his right hand and ignoring the pain the motion caused his wounds, he pushed down onto her with it.

Since the moment it had taken hold of her, Sango had been trying to fight the curse. There was no blissful ignorance of what it was making her do; she was awake and aware for all of it. Feeling like a marionette having its strings pulled, she moved with deadly precision against Miroku, unable to regain control of her body despite her best efforts. Although she was sure her face had remained a mask of impassivity throughout all her attacks, Sango was screaming inside the prison of her mind the whole time. ‘No!! Stop, please! I don’t want to do this!’

She had come so close to ending his life already, the fear of it consuming her. Miroku was holding his own, if just barely, but he didn’t have the specialized training she did and he wouldn’t last in a prolonged fight. The thought of possibly killing the man she loved with her own hands...she wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

Desperately, she tried to hold back but it was useless. Hating what this demon and his curse were making her do, her emotional turmoil continued to mount. It skyrocketed when she sliced deep into Miroku’s arm with her wrist blades and felt the splash of his blood dripping onto her face where she lay beneath him. As if her emotional distress was so great it could no longer be contained within the confines of her body, tears pooled in her deadened eyes. Despite the lifeless set to her features, Sango began to cry, the tears trailing down the sides of her face. She saw Miroku look at her, his indigo gaze widening as he noticed her silent weeping. 

“Sango?” He whispered, but she couldn’t respond, could barely even see him anymore as her vision blurred with more unshed tears.

“This is getting boring now. Bleh!” Satoshi complained, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. “Why don’t we spice it up?”

Control returned to Sango’s body in a rush, the compulsion to attack Miroku and cause him pain disappearing entirely. Just as quickly her ability to breathe was stolen away, her lungs refusing to work. Life returned to her eyes as she stared at Miroku desperately, no longer fighting against him. Her mouth opened but she was unable to take a breath or speak.

“What are you doing to her?!” Miroku demanded, raising his head to glare at the smug demon.

“She’s under my total control, dummy. She can’t even breathe without my say so, and right now I don’t say so! Hehehe!”

Miroku was furious, but he had no time to spare for the demon. Working quickly he sent his power into her, seeking out the curse. He had to find a way to break it and fast. Noticing the way she began to pull at his grip on her wrists, Miroku knew her air was running out. Lowering his mouth to hers he breathed for her, hoping it was enough until he could fix her.

“Hmmm, do you think you can save her before she suffocates? Let’s make it a race!” Satoshi called out. Miroku ignored him, everything in him consumed by his need to save the woman suffering beneath him.

After taking a moment to focus, he located the curse and almost recoiled in grim shock. It was spiderwebbed throughout the whole of her soul, lines of darkness beginning from where it had entered at her wrist. Pouring himself into her, he began to purify it, starting from the point of origin where it was thickest. He went as fast as he dared, but it was so entangled with her soul that the process was difficult. Pausing in his efforts he lowered his mouth to hers again, breathing for her once more.

“Please, fight it. Just hold on a little longer. I’m going to save you.” He swore, his voice fervent and his eyes intent. She gave a barely perceptible nod.

Returning his attention to the curse, Miroku came to an unpleasant realization as he worked through each tendril of darkness-- this was taking too long. Fueled by his own desperation, he made the decision that he couldn’t afford to spare the time to be as careful in its removal as he would have ordinarily liked. This was going to hurt her, and if he could take the pain he was about to cause her and place it upon himself he would without hesitation. 

“This is going to hurt, and I’m so sorry.” He whispered the apology to Sango before he blasted through the curse with all of his power, erasing it in its entirety. All the darkness vaporized under the burning assault of his reiki and suddenly Sango could breathe again.

Sango had a single moment to draw in a breath to her air-starved lungs before the pain engulfed her. Oh God, she had never felt anything as excruciating as this in her life, not even when her possessed brother had almost killed her. She screamed at the agony of the curse being ripped from her very being; it felt like her soul had been lit on fire. Miroku had warned her it was going to hurt but this was far more awful than anything she could have imagined. When the worst of the pain had passed her screaming stopped and she gasped for air, tears still leaking from her eyes. Blinking, her vision came back into focus and she could see Miroku's face above hers, his expression one of concern and distress. 

"Thank you." She whispered to him.

~☆~

Kagome watched as Inuyasha's demon blood took control, but he made no move towards her. When his eyes raised to her face and focused on her she gasped; the emptiness was gone and in its place was the intensity she was familiar with. They weren't the beautiful gold she was used to but she could tell it was finally him looking at her and not the curse. Had he fought it off??

"I-Inuyasha?" She asked hesitantly and he growled in response.

"Kagome...I can't...fight this off. This...is the most...I can do." He grunted out, his voice a deep demonic rasp, each word an effort as his muscles strained against the compulsion of the curse.

"What?"

"My demon blood...is holding it off...because you're my mate...and your blood...but it can't erase it. You...have to purify it. Do it."

"Purify it?! But I don't know what that will do to you!" Kagome cried out, feeling the blood in her veins turn to ice. If she purified it, she would likely also purify the demon half of him in the process. It would be unavoidable.

"Fuck, Kagome, just do it! I want you to do this. It’s better than being forced to hurt you.” 

The fact that she had his permission didn't make this any easier. Still, what choice did they have? Stepping forward, she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked inside him with her power, finding the curse. It was nasty and malignant, tendrils of black woven tightly into his soul. Inuyasha gave a pained gasp at the feel of her power moving through him, tensing under her hands, but offered no resistance.

“Hehehe! Wow, so you’re really going to do it, huh? Use your power on him? This is turning out better than I imagined!” Satoshi exclaimed in glee, enjoying the struggle of their physical and emotional suffering. He doubtlessly thought she was going to purify him rather than the curse, although the two things weren’t mutually exclusive. Resolutely ignoring him, Kagome focused all her attention on the man before her. What she was about to do...it made her heart clench and she prepared herself.

“I’m sorry, Inuyasha.” She whispered, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over to slide down her cheeks. With those words she poured herself into the purification of the curse, shutting her eyes tightly so she didn’t have to see the agony on his face as she began her work. His body convulsed and hoarse shouts of pain escaped him while her reiki flowed through him, cleansing the evil wrapped into his soul. Removing every last trace of black from him, her power burned through it until he was almost screaming at the feeling. When it was done and the curse was broken she opened her eyes and released him, crying and breathing hard.

Inuyasha was human, black hair replacing the gilded silver and midnight blue eyes glazed over with pain staring into hers. Even though she knew this was the only possible outcome she was still shocked; she had done this to him. A small part of her crumpled in on itself in guilt and sorrow at seeing the reality before her. He gasped and fell to his knees and she knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly to her. His mind was still hazy, his body still overwhelmed at the intense ordeal it had just gone through. The immediate dulling of his senses only added to his disorientation and he groaned. 

“Please tell me what I did isn’t permanent. That I didn’t make you irreversibly human!” Kagome cried, pulling away to stare into his face in worry.

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. It’s too early to tell. Even if you did, there are worse things.” Inuyasha replied, his tongue thick in his mouth. He felt so fucking weak and hated it but he didn’t blame Kagome. Being human was better than the alternative-- being used and controlled to hurt her, possibly even kill her. Looking her over his eyes dropped to the wound in her side and he felt a stab of guilt. She had dodged the worst of it but while it was hard to tell with her sweater still on, judging from the blood staining the fabric it was far more than a scratch. The slight pallor to her cheeks only convinced him further of that fact.

Coming down from the adrenaline of the fight, the pain was starting to push through and Kagome stifled a moan but was unable to completely keep her expression from twisting into a grimace. She attempted to turn her face away so Inuyasha couldn’t see but knew it was a futile attempt. There was no way he wasn’t aware of the injury he had inflicted or the pain it was causing her, but at least she would heal from this. What she had done to him...she had no idea if it was something he would recover from or if she had forever erased his demonic side, rendering him human for good. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to focus on their surroundings. 

Vaguely, Kagome heard echoes of other more feminine screams around them and realized Miroku had to be destroying the curse from Sango. Even though her best friend was human it still had to have hurt when Miroku basically ripped it out of her rather than taking his time purifying it, like something as twisted as that typically required. The situation they were in...time wasn’t a luxury afforded to them. At least it seemed they were all free from this demon’s control at last.

Sango moaned in pain as Miroku released her wrists finally, getting up off of her and pulling her to her feet to stand. He held her to him as she tried to regain her bearings. Physically, she was mostly okay but she felt exhausted and frayed at the edges, like something inside of her was scraped and raw. At least her tears had finally stopped and she could breathe. Miroku had kept his word and saved her, just as he had said he would.

He smoothed his aura over her, helping to alleviate the worst of the rawness of her soul, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was a temporary fix until it could recover and heal on its own but for now it would do; they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Looking up, they noticed the demon boy had disappeared from his perch on the balcony’s railing. A glance around revealed nothing and, after Sango and Kagome had retrieved their weapons from where they lay on the floor, an unspoken communication passed between all of them and they gathered in the middle of the foyer. This wasn’t over and they were all waiting for the next shoe to drop.

“What next?” Kagome asked. Inuyasha stood by her side, human and scowling. There was no time to ask what had happened, but Sango and Miroku were able to draw their own conclusions. They also hadn’t missed the blood on Kagome’s sweater or the pallor to her cheeks, but she seemed able enough for the time being so the worry for her and Inuyasha’s wellbeing along with all the questions pressing on their minds would have to wait.

“We find that fucker and feed him his own spleen.” Sango answered her question savagely. She was beyond angry. Not only had that demon seen fit to place her under his control, he had made her harm Miroku and she would make sure he paid dearly for that. Miroku’s arm was still bleeding as were all the cuts on his hands, not to mention all the other injuries he had received from his fight with her. She was pissed.

“Well, this is no fun anymore. You broke my toys.” Satoshi pouted as he emerged from below the balcony and stood in front of them, seeming to materialize out of nowhere. “And it was just getting good, too.”

Within seconds Kagome had an arrow strung onto her bow and was firing at him, also burning with rage. She didn’t think she had ever been so angry in her life. Just like before, the arrow passed through him before sinking into the far wall with a thunk.

"Tsk tsk. Didn't I tell you I wouldn't make it so easy for you?” He chided her, wagging his finger. “Besides, I wouldn't waste any more arrows on a projection.”

“You realize Tsubaki left you behind just to slow us down, not because she actually expected you to succeed.” Miroku said. “Where did she go? Or will you protect a woman who left you as a sacrifice 'til the end?”

Satoshi shrugged, trying to act unconcerned but it was evident now that he was on edge. The childish grin he had been wearing had faded, his eyes a baleful red glare.

“She’s not here anymore and she didn’t tell me where she was going. Hmm, who knows? Guess you guys are out of luck.”

Kagome’s power flared around them suddenly, encompassing the entire room. Her breath came faster, her anger lending her strength. She let it fuel her, her emotions of horror, heartbreak, and rage coursing through her and releasing her from everything that made her feel like she wasn’t enough. All her life she had been told she was incredibly powerful, that she was the strongest priestess in generations, but she had never truly felt like she was deserving of such words. She had always wondered if maybe they were a bit mistaken or hasty in their assessment of her abilities. Over the past month her confidence had grown as she practiced more and began using her power more offensively, but that bit of self-doubt had always lingered just below the surface, holding her back. However, right now there was no room left in her for any of that, only her burning need to purify this demon, make him pay for what he had forced her to do-- all of them to do-- and destroy his evil from this world. It consumed her. A mere projection wouldn’t stop her. 

Calling everything to her she honed her senses and focused with the full weight of her power. It was ridiculously easy to find where Satoshi truly lied in wait within the house; Kagome felt like she could do anything she set her mind to. Stringing another arrow onto her bow, she prepared to fire again and send the arrow directly to him this time, sending him straight to hell. An emotion resembling fear passed over Satoshi’s face and for the first time he looked worried.

“You know, even if you do manage to hit my real body and kill me it’ll only be more trouble for you guys. My life is tied to all the wards holding back the demons deep inside this house. If you kill me you’ll be setting alllllll of them free.”

“So what? Is that supposed to scare us?” Sango scoffed, grip tightening on her sword.

“It should. Your half breed friend is human and useless and you humans are banged up pretty good.” 

“Who fucking cares! We’ll manage just fine once you’re dead.” Kagome fired her arrow, imbuing it with power and this time as it hit his projection it disappeared through a portal of pink light. With her spiritual senses she knew her sacred arrow had emerged through the same type of portal in front of his real body and slammed into his chest. It was also clear from the way his projection looked stricken, staring at his chest then back up at her, eyes wide.

“How…? Doesn’t matter...you’ll never find...her in time.” With those last words his real body turned to ash from the purification while the projection before them seemed to burn up. Within seconds of his death an immense demonic aura pressed down upon all of them, proving his words about the wards to be true. After several tense moments it appeared nothing was going to immediately come after them and Sango took a step forward. 

“I take it we’re goin’ in.” Inuyasha remarked. He felt fucking useless without any of his demonic powers or senses, but he still had his mind and his fighting skills. He might be lacking in strength at the moment but if everyone else could fight as a human then so could he. He’d be damned if he held anyone back. His hands were burned and bleeding but pain had always been more of an annoyance than an actual deterrent to him.

“Yes. I figure that even if Tsubaki has cleared out, this place has been her base of operations for ages. She might have left something behind that we could use. Besides, I can’t in good conscience leave after the release of whatever this demonic presence is. It’s our responsibility to take care of it now.” Sango replied, reaching back to grip her Hiraikotsu. She could use something to tear into right now anyways, truthfully; all her pent-up anger needed an outlet.

“Sango’s right. Besides, after everything we just went through I’m not leaving until we find some answers.” Kagome said with determination.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Miroku voiced his agreement, moving forward and they all finally made their way further into the mansion, walking to the end of the foyer and through the door on the far side. All the lights seemed to be turned on, guiding their way as they all trekked deeper. Sango didn’t miss the way Miroku seemed to be breathing a little more heavily or favoring his right arm, holding his shakujo in his left hand. That observation made her notice his hands and the way they were smeared with red from the cuts bleeding on his palms. She couldn’t help but feel bad about all his injuries even though logic told her she was blameless. 

Minutes passed and just when they were all beginning to wonder when they would finally come upon the source of the demonic aura, suddenly it got stronger in front of the door they were about to pass through. Sango glanced at Inuyasha and felt sympathy for him as a fellow warrior; he had to be feeling crippled and she didn’t think that rusty sword would be much use against what they would face without his demonic energy to feed into it. She removed an extra blade she kept inside her boot-- only a dagger really-- but she figured it would be better than nothing and held it out to him. He looked at what she wordlessly offered him and gave a short nod of thanks, taking it. 

Then they were through the door and stepping foot into a huge cavernous room with columns supporting the vaulted ceiling. Along the top was a wrap-around balcony that could be accessed by the ornate staircase placed at the very far end of the room. To the left of where they stood was a set of huge red doors that stretched almost to the ceiling, opened wide into darkness, and swarming into the room from the depths were demons.

All four of them assessed the situation and sprung into action. They seemed countless but the demons weren’t too powerful on their own. It was only because of their sheer numbers that they posed any kind of threat and truthfully the four of them had all faced so much worse. This was nothing but a chore in comparison.

Charging into the room, Sango swung her Hiraikotsu and felt a vicious satisfaction as it cut through the horde before returning to her grip for her to release again. She spun as she caught it, her momentum adding more force to her next throw. Miroku murmured an incantation and threw out his sutras, purifying everything in the line they traveled before they latched onto the floor and activated a trap that captured any demons caught within. With another incantation the power in the sutras flared and incinerated them into ash. Kagome was hanging back a little further, destroying the demons in a volley of pink rain, her arrows flying fast and true. Any time a demon came a little too close to Kagome, Inuyasha made short work of them with the help of Sango’s dagger. He might be human but he still took his duty of protecting her seriously and he would sooner die than let one touch a hair on her head.

Soon the flow of demons began to ebb but there didn’t seem to be a decrease in the demonic aura. The reason for that became evident as another demon emerged through the enormous doors, this one larger and not quite as low level as the others. It was huge, its monstrous head almost brushing the top of the door frame as it entered the vicinity. The floor almost trembled with every step it took.

“Is that a fucking oni?” Inuyasha demanded, sounding annoyed.

“Yes. Looks like Tsubaki had one trapped in this place to attack any intruders in the event the wards holding back all her demons failed.” Sango replied, unconcerned.

The oni’s body was red and muscled, barrel-chested with arms and legs thick as tree trunks. Yellow horns protruded from its head and matched the long fangs jutting from its mouth, the image not softened in the slightest by the black mane of hair wreathing its head. It was naked save for a loincloth covering its lower half and the massive spiked club it wielded in its right hand was almost as long as it was. Baleful orange eyes glowed under the heavy ridge of its brow and it growled at them, the sound loud and menacing.

“I have one arrow left.” Kagome told them.

“Better make it count, then.” Inuyasha said. “Sango and I will fight and distract it while you and Miroku work on purifying it.”

“We can weave a net with our power around it to trap it but it will take some concentration. We’re both a little drained after-- after earlier. But Inuyasha...be careful.”

“Keh. I’ll be fine.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Sango said, readying her Hiraikotsu, then addressed Inuyasha. “If you draw its attention I’ll attack.”

“Looks like I’ve been volunteered. Shall we?” Miroku said to Kagome and she gave a decisive nod.

They each met the charge of the oni, slipping in their decided roles. Kagome and Miroku focused their power, sending it out into strands and mingling them together, invisible to the naked eye while Inuyasha shouted insults and taunted the demon, dodging out of the way of its heavy club at the last second.

Running up behind it while Inuyasha kept it distracted, Sango threw her weapon and the oni whirled around at the last second to smack it out of the air. Silently cursing, she leapt towards where it fell, catching it and spinning to block the strike of his club hurtling towards her. The force sent her back several feet and she bent her knees, preparing to attack again.

“Hey, ugly! Come and get it!” Inuyasha snarked, drawing its attention back to him. The thing about oni was that although they were big and strong, they weren’t too bright. It lumbered towards him again, reaching out with its left hand to cut off his path around the room. Quickly pivoting to run the other way he rolled under the swing of its club. It roared, turning fast and snatched at him again and without his demonic speed Inuyasha found himself caught.

Sango dashed forward and threw her Hiraikotsu, aiming low and it cut the oni off at the knees with brutal efficiency. The blow forced the oni to open the fist it had wrapped around Inuyasha, dropping him to the floor as it bellowed its rage and pain, falling forward. Inuyasha got out of the way of its descent before it crashed all the way down and Sango caught her Hiraikotsu again. Not losing any of her momentum, she bounded up and ran over one of its legs to its back just as it began to attempt to rise. Settling her Hiraikotsu upon her own back she drew her wakizashi and grabbed a fistful of its mane to keep from falling.

That was the other thing about oni-- pain did little to deter them, often only pissing them off. And this one was definitely pissed. It snarled, the sound echoing in the space around them. Reaching back, it attempted to swipe at Sango but she dodged its attempts and lashed out with her sword, removing one of its fingers and it howled louder. Quickly climbing her way up to the top of its head, she resisted its efforts to shake her off and then swung herself down in front of its face, anchoring herself with another handful of its dark mane. Kicking off with her feet, she rocked back before swinging forward towards its face and stabbed her wakizashi up to the hilt into one of its eyes.

 It screamed and tried to claw at its face as she grunted, removing the blade before flinging herself to the side and slamming her sword into its other eye, completely blinding it but not quite avoiding being struck by its flailing fists. At the same time Miroku and Kagome had finished their work and Miroku took control of the web of spiritual power around the oni, clenching his fist and effectively tightening the noose around its neck. Meanwhile Kagome notched her last arrow onto her bow and took aim, preparing to fire. As Sango was falling she reached back and threw Hiraikotsu at it once more before landing heavily on her side and rolling into a crouch to watch as her weapon struck. It hit just as Kagome’s arrow flew in a pink arc and the filaments of power from Miroku squeezed, closing in.

Hiraikotsu tore through the demon’s mid section at the same moment Kagome’s arrow struck, slamming into its chest and engulfing its body in pink light while the web of power Miroku held kept the oni in place. All three things converged and with a final bellow the oni was purified, vanishing into dust.

Once the threat was gone, Miroku immediately went over to where Sango was rising to her feet. She grimaced as she sheathed her blade then turned to look at him as he approached. Fierce and powerful were the words that instantly came to mind as he assessed her, taking in any possible injuries and seeing none, although he bet she’d be pretty bruised tomorrow. 

“That’s all of them. All the demons that were left in this place.” Kagome said into the silence that had descended. She was breathing a little more harshly and one of her hands was grabbing at her wound again. Inuyasha had made his way back to her side and he looked fine, if not a little roughed up, and she didn’t miss the guilt in his eyes as he noticed the way she held her side. When the oni had grabbed him she had almost fired her arrow right then to free him but then Sango had saved him, sparing her from the choice of using her last arrow for his sake or the sake of them all.  

Over the next hour they explored the rest of the place, thoroughly checking out every room and finding nothing. Just as they were all getting frustrated at their lack of results or anything to show for the suffering they had endured, they entered the last room on the top floor. As soon as they entered, the familiarity of the place struck home for Miroku and Kagome. It was the study they had seen in the vision from the location ritual. From the heavy wooden desk made of mahogany to the black velvet curtains over the windows, the layout, everything. Everything except for the book that had been sitting on top of the desk, open to the spell required to resurrect Naraku.

Walking to the desk, Miroku examined the surface and frowned as he noticed a single piece of paper left behind, and it wasn’t the page they had seen in their vision. It was handwritten and he instantly knew it had been scribed by Tsubaki. Holding it down like a paperweight was a miniature of the Tokyo Tower. Something dark and oily was emanating from it and he carefully bound it with his power, sealing it and whatever curse it bore then moved it to the side. 

“What is that?” Sango asked as Kagome walked over to where he stood.

“A miniature of the Tokyo Tower. There’s some extremely black magic in it, no doubt another lovely little gift Tsubaki thought to leave behind for us.” Miroku said. “I sealed it, but if anyone without strong reiki touches it the binding will be released and whatever curse it contains will be unleashed. It’s very potent and will likely take multiple cleansings to completely purify it.”

Kagome looked at it curiously, giving it a once over with her own power and nodded confirmation to Miroku’s words. “He’s right. I know I’m feeling really drained right now but even I would struggle to eliminate the evil from this object.”

“I wonder why she chose a miniature of the Tokyo Tower to use as the conduit. Is it a message of some sort?” Sango mused.

“Possibly.” He looked at the paper again. Picking it up, he read the contents:

When the reflection of the sun sits high

At the borderline between worlds

Where the pink rain that fell has dried

The point where all directions converge

Only a quarter of light refracted in the sky

The true power of the spell will emerge

Solve this; try and stop me if you dare

When the time comes, no one will be spared

If you wait

It’ll be too late.

“What does it say?” Kagome asked, coming over to peer around him curiously, then frowned as she read it.

“Well? Anybody gonna fucking read it out loud or are we all taking turns?” Inuyasha grumbled with his arms crossed. Miroku looked up at where Sango stood next to Inuyasha, seeing her expectant face, and read the words. When he was done Inuyasha was scowling and Sango was  pursing her lips in thought.

“So she left us a shitty poem. It doesn’t even rhyme that well.” Inuyasha said scornfully.

“Well the good news; between the contents of the page we saw in the vision and this piece of paper here, we actually have some clues to work off of now. And the use of such an iconic symbol of Tokyo to hold such a black curse leads me to believe her use of the tower was not by mere chance. It must relate in some way.” Miroku said.

“It’s like she couldn’t resist trying to rub our noses in her plans, leaving us crumbs that she thinks we have no hope of following back to the truth.” Kagome glared.

“Arrogant bitch.” Inuyasha spat.

“Yes, and if we fail at figuring it out in time then we’re all screwed.” Sango said, voicing what they all were thinking. 

“So we just need to figure it out.” Kagome said. Of course, that would require some critical thinking, something none of them were really up to at the moment unless it was absolutely necessary. The whole encounter had left them drained; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Now that it was over all they wanted to do was get themselves patched up and go home.

With nothing else keeping them there they made their way back to where they had entered. As they all walked across the foyer the bloodstains splashed onto the floor in stark contrast against the white marble were unmistakable. It was hard to avoid looking at them. Sango shut her eyes again against a brief and irrational moment of guilt and the frown on Inuyasha’s face deepened, a sadness to the set of his brow. Miroku and Kagome pretended not to notice as they all went outside but the oppressive air to the atmosphere didn’t seem to lighten. It was as if the darkness they faced in that house was an inextricable part of them all, unable to simply be left behind by merely exiting the place.

Miroku retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk of Sango’s car, removing a jar when he made his way back to where they all still lingered on the porch. Kagome was pale and Miroku figured he didn’t look too hot himself. Inuyasha’s hands were a burned and bleeding mess. Sango didn’t appear to have any real injuries although she was moving a little stiffly; that fall along with the stress of their fight had to have taken its toll on her body.

“This is a special ointment Jinenji gave me in case we needed some extra assistance again. It’s not as good as actually having him here but he imbued the antibacterial salve with his healing powers. It will take the worst away.” Miroku said, opening the jar.

“That’s great.” Kagome said with a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Sango’s heart hurt for her friend, noticing again the very human appearance of Inuyasha and the total lack of any demonic aura or youki surrounding him. What she and Miroku had gone through had been traumatic and exhausting in every way imaginable but it appeared Kagome and Inuyasha had fared worse. She felt a pang of sympathy but still felt compelled to ask. “Kagome...when you purified the curse from Inuyasha, did you--” 

“Yes.” Kagome replied shortly, unable to completely disguise the pain in her voice. Sango let it drop, not wanting to press her on something that was clearly tearing her up inside. That alone confirmed it.

“I told you I was okay with--” Inuyasha began.

“Stop!” Kagome yelled, tears filling her eyes again. Her next words were a whisper. “Just...please. I know, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re still human and I’m still the one who made you that way.”

“Kagome--” 

“I just can’t talk about it right now. Please.”

Inuyasha fell quiet, looking like he wanted to say something more but knowing it would be no use. He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to break out of his skin and escape to anywhere but there. Kagome was too distraught for words of comfort, especially from the person she had hurt. She felt like she didn’t deserve them. The full impact of what she had done hadn’t truly hit until now, with the earlier adrenaline from battle and the hunt for anything to lead back to Tsubaki pushing it all aside to deal with later. But now, standing here and staring at him it felt like a slap in the face and she had to struggle to breathe for a second. Then she felt selfish, feeling like she was making it all about her when Inuyasha was the one who had lost an actual part of who he was. A part he may never be able to regain back.

During their exchange Miroku removed his ruined jacket and rolled up the sleeve to his long-sleeved t-shirt, allowing Sango to treat his wounds. She bit her lip and took his arm, carefully applying the ointment without saying anything out of respect for the gravity of the moment between Kagome and Inuyasha. And what would she say, anyways? She didn’t even know where to begin. 

Hesitantly she raised her eyes from where she was rubbing ointment onto the slash in his forearm to his face and saw him watching her. His eyes met her own and she felt the awful urge to cry at the steady and understanding look in his indigo gaze. And hadn’t she been the one to tell him not to feel guilty over being controlled to hurt someone you love? That as the attacked party, she understood it wasn’t the other person’s fault? Yet here she was doing a terrible job of taking her own advice and Miroku seemed to know it.

“It’s okay.” He said quietly and she let out a shaky breath, dropping her eyes back to where she was wrapping the bandages around the wound. Securing it and giving a small nod, she willed back the tears that were threatening to fall and then released his arm, taking his other hand full of cuts. When she was finished treating all the injuries on his hands she swallowed and looked at his throat where the angry red line left behind by her wakizashi lay. Blood had dried around it, and she sent out a silent prayer of thanks that he had been quick enough to dodge the full extent of her attack. After disinfecting it she softly swiped a finger full of ointment over the cut, closing her eyes for a moment. Miroku took the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of her head and she felt some of the tension drain from her. He was still here. It was okay.

Sango handed the jar of ointment to Miroku and he stepped to where Kagome leaned heavily against one of the ornate posts on the porch. “Your turn.” He said. The priestess lifted her sweater up, exposing her stomach and the deep, ragged gashes in her left side along her waist. Blood still shone wetly but the punctures didn’t appear to be actively bleeding anymore. Although Inuyasha’s hands hadn’t been treated yet Kagome’s wound was the more serious of the two and took precedence.  

“Give it here. I’ll do it.” Inuyasha said tersely, snatching it out of his hands and Miroku blinked but shrugged, stepping aside. Apparently Inuyasha’s ruined hands weren’t a deterrent. At first glance his actions seemed born out of jealousy, like when Miroku had been holding Kagome’s hands and staring into her eyes intently during the location ritual. But this wasn’t about being bothered at the thought of another man’s hands touching her there. It was about doing anything within his power to heal the hurts he had been the cause of. No matter how unwilling he had been it had still been his claws to tear through that vulnerable flesh of hers and the thought sickened him.

“I still want to call Jinenji. This is deep.” Inuyasha said, and there was anguish in his voice.

“Fine. But at least wait until we get back to the shrine. I don’t want to spend a second longer here than I have to.” Kagome replied and Inuyasha nodded his agreement. 

When Kagome had been bandaged up and Inuyasha’s hands treated, they all left without a backward glance. The dark memories wouldn’t be so easily abandoned but they would find ways to heal and grow stronger from it. In the meantime they had a riddle to solve and a dark priestess to catch.

[damn-stark]

Dark Hope ch.1

A/N- this is my first chapter so sorry if it isn’t good. Hope you guys liked it :)

There isn’t going to be a lot of Kylo and reader interactions just yet for the next few chapters sorry.

Warning- language.

Pairing- Kylo ren x reader

Tagged- @angelmarie823

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

—

The floor you were laying on was cold. The cell even colder. You could feel the little hairs on your arms rise, you curl yourself up into a ball trying to keep yourself warm. Your stomach was growling from the lack of food you have recieved today. You gripped onto your left arm lightly letting your thumb go over the scars and markings as a habityou’ve picked up over the years.

You had gotten locked up in the cell after getting caught stealing some rations. You didn’t get caught but more of someone had told on you. And then they found out you had stolen other things. But you needed those things and those rations not only for you but others too. The people that locked you up didn’t care about the kindness or that you were suffering. You had gotten in trouble a lot of the times but this time it was your last strike. But what they don’t seem to understand is that being a slave isn’t fun so you tried your best to make it somewhat tolerable.

You heard multiple footsteps approachimg and you stood up and stood by the bars. Your heartbeat was speeding quick in your chest. You knew what they were going to do to you their was no need trying to convince yourself otherwise. But yet it was still hard to wrap your head around the concept of dying.

“Hands out.” One of the guards Instructed you. You looked down at his waist and saw blasters on his belt. There was no way to get those blasters so you did what were told. They cuffed you and you felt like your heart was going to come out of your chest. Your eyes searched all over the hall for an exit as your were being dragged outside. You were trying to find a way to get out of the restraints. You only became more panicked as the red sunlight hit your face and blinded you in the process. As your eyes adjusted to brightness you saw other people getting prepared to get killed too. One was very tall and hairy. A Wookiee you thought. The only reason why you knew was because one had been here before. The other one was a human like you and was trying to talk his way out. The panic increased tenfold. You planted your feet in the dirt making it harder for them to drag you out.

“Come on!” The guard yelled as he pulled you harshly. You resisted so you kept rustling around in his grasp.

“No! No! Let me go!!” You yelled struggling to be let go but he held on tighter. “You need me I’m the only one who can fix your shit that you steal!” You yell to them to try and convince him but it did nothing to help your case. You felt anger grow within you, no one was going to save you but you also didn’t want to die. You throw your elbow to the side hitting the mans side harshly and making him fall on his knees. You elbow the other guard on your other side and then begin to run, you trip and roll over, you quickly pick yourself up and see more guards approaching. You look around in a panic and see a long wooden stick, you quickly grab it and break it in half making it easier to grab because of your restrained hands.

A guard tries to hit the back your head but you spun and hit them with the stick on your right hand and then kick them knocking them to the ground. One approaches your side and swings at you but you barely manage to duck. You lift your left hand and block the next swing but in doing that your stick breaks. Your eyes widen and you then hit them with your left stick barely hitting their head. More surround you and they begin to zap you making you fall on your knees harshly, a grunt escapes from your lips. One of them bent down and got you from your elbow. Even if you could barely stand you took this as your chance and elbowed the man in the face making him fall back and letting you go.He grabbed onto his nose bleeding nose and kicked you down.

“Let me go you ugly shit!” You yelled the anger in you only increasing. You tried to get back on your feet but as soon as you did pain shot through your stomach. Before you could grab the pained area the guards began to pull you up.

“Let go!” You kept yelling as you fought back even if every muscle in your body wanted to fall to the ground. One got out this weapon that looked to be a electrocuting rope and looked like it could chop anyone’s head off. You were breathing hard as you moved your hand to the side trying to avoid being hurt by that thing. “No! Let me go!!” They only laughed at your struggle as they brought down the weapon closer to you. You closed your eyes as you felt this new sort of energy inside you. It was new something you haven’t felt before. “I said let go!” You yelled and then out of sudden they got thrown across. You got up quickly and looked around to see if anyone had helped but their was no one around. You didn’t take time to think to much of it though. You got the blaster next to you and tried to get it in position.

People seemed to be whispering to themselves on what had just happened. Just as suprised as you were. Everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing to look at you.

“Get her now!!!” You heard sowmone yell. A smirk grew on your face as you had your finger on the trigger. One of them was running your way so you blasted them in the chest. You then turned and blasted another. As you saw more approach you turned to run away. As you were running you saw the same two people from before struggling to be freed. You looked at the exit and then at them questioning if you wanted to help them out or not. You thought of both options heavily.

You were about to leave but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to do so without helping them out. With a sigh you run towards them and blasted their guards and then their restraints. The man gave you a quick thankful nod before him and the Wookiee got their blasters out and shot any that came close as they ran out. They ran past you and you run behind them but someone had grazed your arm and then tripped your feet. You kicked them and they let go but quickly got a hold of your feet.

“Let go you little shit!” You tried kicking him off but he was holding to tightly. You wanted to use the same thing as you did before but it seemed that you couldn’t do it again. You were trying to struggle away from him but as you did you then saw him being blasted and then drop his head to the ground and the grip on your legs loosen. You looked behind you and saw the same man you had saved. This time he had saved you. He offered his hand and you took it and he helped you up to your feet.

“Thank you.” You told him and he had half a smile.

“Come one lets go they’re still after us.”

“SOLO! Y/N!” You heard someone yell as you three ran away towards a ship.

-

(3 years later)

“This is it, Y/N override their system we’re going in.” Han instructed you. But he didn’t need to tell you what to do because you were already doing it.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do.” You say with a smirk. “Got it lets go.” You get your blasters and then you three go towards the ship that you had just got. Appeartnly Chewie said it was their ship the Millennium falcon. Something you’ve been anticapting to see ever since you knew who they were that day they saved you and took you in.

Han opened the doors to the ship and Chewbacca and Him went in first and then you trailed behind them with both blasters in hand just in case anythinf surprised you. They stopped close to the entrance. And you same Han smile.

“Chewie we’re home.” Han said to Chewie. You looked around the ship and you saw that the ship looked old and like no one had used it in ages.

“Definitely have seen worse.” You say under your breath. Its true you’ve seen worse ships and this wasn’t one but it also wasn’t the best. But maybe in time it could be fixed and be as it once was. Han goes to check something out and you follow Chewie until you hear something drop on the bottom of the ship. You three got closer to it and Han gave Chewie a quick nod telling him to open the hatch. You aim your blasters just in case.

When chewie opens it you see two people and a droid. They put their hands up as they see Han and you aiming at them. They both had masks on and by the looks on their faces they seemed afraid.

“Where are the others? Where’s the pilot?” Han asked them.

“I’m the pilot.” The girl responded quickly. You kept your blasters on them not wanting to let your guard drop. You looked over at the guy next to her. You couldn’t help but notice that he was handsome but he looked afraid of you probabaly because you had a blasters aiming at his head.

“You?” You asked her not really believing her. Chewie then said that she was lying and you couldn’t help but agree with them even if you didn’t say it.

“No it’s true we’re the only ones on board.” The girl said surprising you that she understood him.

“You can understand that thing?!” The guy next to her asked with a shocked expression.

“And that thing can understand you too so watch it.” Han told him.

“that thing also has a name so be nice.” You also told him.

“Come on out of here.” Han said as he motioned them to get out from under. You put your blasters back on your holsters but still kept your eye on them.

“Where’d you get this ship?” Han asked the girl.

“The nimma outpost.” She responded. You wanted to laugh at the convience of the place where the ship was. Jaku the junkyard.

“Jaku the junkyard?” Han asked as if almost surprised that It was there. You knew you told them both multiple times to go there.

“Thank you! Junkyard.” The guy told the girl making you giggle at the way he had said it to her. He looked over at you and had a small smile after you laughed at what he had said.

“I told you.” You told Han.

“I told you we should’ve double-checked the western.” Han told you and Chewie. “Who had her? Ducain?”

“I stole it from a cot plate who stole it from the Irving boys who stole it from ducain.” The girl explained.

“Who stole from me! You tell him Han Solo just stole back the millennium Falcon for good this time.” Han then started to walk off with the girl following behind him.

“This is the millennium falcon?! You’re Han Solo?!” She asked excitedingly

“I used to be.” He said and walked off.

“Han solo the rebellion general?” The guy asked .

“No the smuggler.” The girl said turning to tell the guy.

“Wasn’t he a war hero?” The guy asked turning to Chewie and you. You both just shrugged your shoulders. You knew he was was both because of stories you’ve heard from other people and from Chewie.

“This is the ship that made the Cassel run in fourteen parsecs?” The girl asked Han again.

You knew the answer to this and you knew that if anyone said it wrong he gets offended and corrects you. So already knowing the answer you said it along with han.

“Twelve!” He said in a shout from where he was. You mouthed the words and then laughed along with Chewie.

“Is he your father?” The guy asked you. You looked over to the hall where Han had disappeared into and then back to him.

“No but he is.” You said pointing to Chewbacca. You held your laughter in while you saw his shocked reaction.

“Really?” He asked confused but he tried not give away any reaction with his face.

“No I’m messing with you.” You laughed “just have been part of the crew for a long time now.” You told him. You saw the girl follow behind Han.

“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked the guy pointing to the girl. He looked at the girl and then back to you. “Or do you have a boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend! No no She’s not my my uh uh um girlfriend!” He said struggling to say the sentence. You smiled at his struggle.

“Okay then I’m y/n.” You told him.

“I’m I’m Finn.” He stuttered which you found amusing.

“Nice to meet you Finn.” You said and then you walked over to Han.

“Hey some moof milker put a commpressor on the ignition line.” Han complained as he walked out from the cockpit. Him and the girl said something at same time completing eachothers sentence. Finding it weird and cool all at the same time.

“Chewie, y/n find them a pod we’ll drop them at the nearest inhabited planet.” Han ordered. You found this kind of upsetting since they would be great crew members or maybe it was just because Finn was interesting and you wanted to know more about him but you also felt something weird coming from the girl.

“Wait no!” The girl said and then her and Finn walked after Han not liking his idea. You were going to follow too but you decided to let them figure it out by themselves. Because you already knew what you would say to in this situation.

You waited with Chewie and the little droid that was with them.

“You know I hope you guys stay I really do like you guys and well we could use more people don’t you agree Chewie?.” You said to Chewie and the little droid. He was about to say something but then you heard movement on the top of the ship.

You and Chewie looked at one another not happy of the noise or what it could belong too.

.

.

.

.

.

[ill-skillsgard]

Sweet Demons, Part 6 FINALE - Zeitgeist/Axel Cluney

Title: Sweet Demons

Description: It's the weekend of Friday the Thirteenth, the biggest motorcycle rally and festival in the Western Hemisphere but nothing is more enticingly chaotic to her than the mysterious new member of the famous Motor City Sweet Demons.

Warning: 18+ Mentions of drugs/alcohol/violence, eventual smut/various kinks

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Max demanded that I went into the house and left Axel alone but how could I have possibly ignored what I saw? From the living room window, I peered out so I could continue to watch what was happening. Bradley had helped Axel up on his feet and took him to the clubhouse while my dad hauled the garden hose out from the backyard to start spraying away the peculiar black vomit that had come up from Axel's throat. Confusion set in followed swiftly by anxiety. Nothing about what had happened made sense and the longer I watched my dad pointing a jet-stream of water at the place Axel had thrown up the more I realized that whatever ungodly liquid had come out of that man was leaving a nice deep blemish in the concrete. I paced around the house for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. Nothing had prepared me for what had happened outside. My head pounded and a sick swirling of guilt twisted my gut until it became difficult to breathe. I wanted to go to Axel just to see if he was okay although I was brimming with unanswered questions that wanted to explode forth. The way he had glared at me and told me to get away from him was playing on a loop in my head. Holding my hand to my chest, I tried to breathe in deeply and rationalize what I witnessed but there was nothing I could draw from. The pitch black liquid that seemingly burned through concrete was the last thing I had ever expected to witness. "Angel? Where are you? I need some bandages in here!" I heard my dad yell from the garage. I found a first aid kit under the sink in the downstairs bathroom and brought it to the garage where Braun was sitting on an old white plastic lawn chair with a balled up rag held to his right eye. The rag was not only caked in oil but also soaked in blood. "Get that shit off of his face, you're going to get it infected!" I yelled, shoving the first aid box into my dad's arms. "Why do you care?" Braun spat. "Hey now. You better fuckin' cool it, kid." Dad admonished in a way that was completely sincere and not at all bordering on the edge of a joke. "I've had about enough out of all yous." "I'll go get you some ice... Your eye is swelling like a balloon." Braun shot up from the chair and yelled, "why don't you go try to take care of Axel? Stop pretending like you give a fuck, 'cause it's not cute!" I stood up straight, offended and threw up my hands in defeat. "Fine! Fuck you too then! Fuck everyone!" When I went back into the house I was even more upset than before. I had fucked up so royally that everybody was at each other's throats. Then Max finally came down from the clubhouse to find my father in the garage taking care of Braun's deep cut and his ruptured eye. From the kitchen, it was easy to eavesdrop on anything that was being said in the garage, that I knew so I held my breath and listened hard to maybe try to gather some answers without having to go digging myself. "He all right?" Dad asked as Max entered the garage from the back door, sighing in frustration. "He'll be fine. More just pissed off about the Widow-Maker I think." "I tried to have a look at it but... Something's wrong with the fuel tank." "So weird. He was riding last night... How could something go bust overnight?" "Ah, who fucking knows. Might have to open her up to have a look." "Fuck, Al... I don't know. We have to hit the road like two hours ago. The rest of them are antsy to get going... I don't know what to do." The rusty squeal of the back door rang and a familiar gait thumped through the garage. I swallowed down the breath I was clenching in my lungs and took in another. If anyone came in through the kitchen entrance it would have been obvious that I was listening in but at that point, I didn't much care. "Just go. I'll meet you guys at the next stop once I get her going. Don't let me hold you up." Max Sweet lamented, "fuck Axe... I don't want to leave you behind." "Janet can tail. I'm not leaving here without the Widow-Maker." "Axe... You sure?" "I'm positive. You guys hit the road. I'll see what's up with her and get her going again then I'll meet you up North." "Shit," said Max. "I guess so." "Bring her on up. We'll have a look at her," Dad said. "Thanks, Al. And again... I'll cover the cost of filling the hole in the driveway." "Ah, fuck it. I got a guy who owes me a favor. I'll get it fixed. Don't worry about it." "I'm a little worried about it." "I'd rather you puke your fuckin'... Whatever unholy shit that was on the driveway and not on someone's face." "Where is she?" I heard Axel ask quietly after a few seconds of silence between the three. "She's in the house," Dad replied. "But you best focus on the task at hand." "Yeah, we have to get going," Max agreed. I went up to my bedroom and watched out the window as the Motor City Sweet Demons all got on their bikes and took off without Axel. I felt guilt rip at my throat like a rabid dog and I longed to go to the garage to speak to him even though I was at a loss for what to say. From the second floor, I watched Axel in the driveway, scratching the back of his head, staring at the Demons as they set off. Once he was left alone he circled his bike again, frowning, looking genuinely hurt. It felt terrible to me and all at once I wished I could disappear off the face of the Earth. He kicked up the stand and pushed the Widow-Maker up the driveway, disappearing from sight into the garage to begin work on it. I gave it a couple of hours before I decided to snake my way down into the garage to see him. Even though I had gone over what to say in my head a hundred times I was still afraid of what he would say to me. When I entered the kitchen to get to the garage door I heard the clanging of metal on metal. The sounds of Axel taking apart his bike were loud and I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts before opening the door. He looked up at me when I opened the door but quickly dropped his gaze back to what he was doing when he realized it was me. The seat of his motorcycle had been taken off and the bolts were on the ground right beside it in a metal dish. I wasn't exactly sure what he was doing but it looked like he was working on taking the gas tank off the bike. Grinding the toe of my sandal into the ground, I cleared my throat but he either didn't hear me over the sound of the Allen wrench or simply chose to ignore me. The latter made my heart sink and I immediately felt like Axel wanted nothing more to do with me. I approached the bike, grimacing and trying to lock eyes with Axel but he wouldn't pull himself away from dismantling his bike for a second. "Are you um... Are you okay?" I piped up. With lips clamped shut in concentration he shrugged. "I don't know. Does it look like I'm okay?" "I just wanted to make sure you were... Feeling all right?" "I'll be all right once I'm on the fuckin' road." Blinded by his words, I took one step back incredulously, "I'm sorry... I didn't know you were so eager to leave." "My gang's on the road right now without me. Of course, I'm eager to leave." "Well, you don't have to shut me out. I mean... I think you owe me an explanation after all that." Axel dropped the screwdriver that he was using to unscrew bolts and clapped his hand on the fuel tank that was half off. "I don't owe you anything, okay? I told you that I don't catch feelings at the beginning of the weekend and I wasn't just saying it to be cute. You and I had a good time but right now, I'm about to put my fist through a window and I need you to leave me alone." I stammered when I realized that what he said hurt worse than it should. The icy glare he gave me before picking up a wrench from my dad's toolbox was as forbidding as it was repelling. "Fine. I can see that it meant nothing to you at all. No romance. No nothing. That's fine by me. So when you come back here again, don't look for me." Axel pretended not to hear what I said and the longer I stayed there and watched him ignore me the angrier I got. "Fuck you! What the fuck is your problem?" "You, clearly." "No! You are the problem! How dare you try to tell me you don't catch feelings when you spent the whole weekend with me. You had full intentions of coming back for me before all this. Why are you suddenly acting like you're too good for me now?" He only raised his eyebrows before hunching over and reaching underneath the gas tank to disconnect the fuel lines. "Axel!" I yelled at him. He punched the fuel tank and stood up, the lines of his face deepening with anger. His eyes smoldered and he came in my direction. I hardly had a moment to flinch before his hand was squeezing my face, his immensity over me backing me up until I was pressed up against a steel standing tool chest. "What do I have to do to show you that I am not the kind of guy you want to spend your time with? You saw what happened. I'm. Not. Normal. I'm a walking fucking nightmare... An accident waiting to happen." I remembered the day I first saw him and thought the very same thing that he had just growled at me. He was an accident waiting to happen. Nobody with tattoos like that could have any kind of notion of normalcy. Although I hated Axel for being exactly the thing he told me he was, I hated myself more because I was just as bad. No matter how hard I tried to go a different way in my life I knew that I would always end up a selfish, self-indulgent delinquent and there I was, in his grip and at his mercy. He released my face but did not recoil an inch. He kept me backed up against the chest. "Angel... You are one fine piece of ass but us together... It would be too much. I have to get some fucking answers before I can pledge myself to anything. You don't seem to understand me when I say that I cannot get close to anybody. Even if I really, really want to. Try to get it through your head. You and me... It's got 'bad idea' written all over it. So, please...  Don't make this shit harder than it already is." I held in all of the emotion that wanted to burst from my mouth. Nodding my head simply to pull myself back from the edge of crying, I blinked and blinked away the tears. I knew he was right but I wished that he wasn't. I loathed that I couldn't manage to turn him over to me. No matter how badly I wanted him he wouldn't have me. I was just another stop on his journey. "Okay... I understand." "Thanks," he said shortly and then stepped back from me. He looked me up and down once and then turned back to his motorcycle; the only thing to him that really mattered. Biting my lip to keep from spilling anything more, I let my body relax a little. He went back to work as though I wasn't there and I stood still, hands clasped behind my back, aching to explode and tell him everything inside of me that was gouging to get out. The back door opened and a fan of light came in from the sun as well as my dad. He paused and looked between the both of us almost like he could smell the tension in the room. "You kids all right?" He asked us. "Yeah, Dad. Fine." "Gettin' there," said Axel. "How far along have you gotten on that bike, Axe?" Axel squinted as he reached under to pull off the last line. "Well, Going to take the tank apart. See what's going on." "Fuck, kid, you gotta get on the road," Dad reminded him. "I got plenty of working bikes out back, you're welcome to any of them." Scoffing in disbelief, Axel ran his greasy fingers through his hair looking taken aback by my dad's offer. "Al... I couldn't. I can't... I can't leave my bike here. I won't ride anything else." "I know, I know. Figured I'd offer, is all." "I really appreciate it, Al. I should have this taken care of by tonight then I'll be out of your hair for good." Dad looked at me and noticed that I had been exceptionally quiet during their conversation. Although, he chose not to draw attention to it. My dad knew how to read a situation and act accordingly. I was glad he didn't point out how I had been standing there like a statue with a wild animal of a disclosure clawing at my insides, gnawing on my ribs like the bars of a cage. It almost made me feel sick. The garage door was wide open so I turned and started walking towards the end of the driveway, ignoring the shallow pothole that Axel had created in it. Nobody called after me and I was glad because once I got to walking I didn't want to stop. Not until I made my way down the street, walked along with the curve of the bridge that bounded over the highway and through the main street to the beach. Because it was Monday, there weren't a lot of families on the beach enjoying the sun and swimming in the water. There were no groups of girls laid side by side sun-bathing in their bikinis and no kids running around in the shallow, lapping water playing with Frisbees and splashing each other. I didn't much care for the beach in my town usually. There were so many better ones nearby but on that day it was a relief to sit in the sand and look out at the same water that I had been looking out on for years. I wanted to tell Axel about what I did and I knew if I did that meant I would have to apologize to Braun too. My selfish impulse had hurt a lot more people than I intended. I felt cowardly as I took off my flipflop sandals and buried my toes in the sand so the feeling of the untouched under layer would cool my feet. For the first time in a long time, I decided to go swimming. I left my sandals where I had sat down and made my way to the edge of the water. The wet sand sucked in my footsteps and the water splashed up my ankles to my shins and then to my knees. With no regard for the temperature, I walked right in until I was deep enough to dive over the curl of a wave, swimming out further and further until I was far enough for the shore to shrink. There I floated, relaxing in the silence and letting my body get carried back with each gentle undulation. I skimmed the water all around my head with my fingers to make sure nobody that could potentially see me floating out there in my tank top and denim shorts thought I was a dead body. I probably looked strange but I didn't really care. It felt good to just close my eyes and pretend like I was no longer alive. The sun beat down and dried my face quickly so I took a long dunk under the water and resurfaced to breathe. When I turned away from the beach all I could see was the water meet the sky and for a moment I forgot what was plaguing me. I spent the brightest hours of the day reliving the tourist experience. I bought an ice cream cone from the shop that we always used to go to and ate it in the park on a wooden memorial bench beside a fountain that never had any coins in it because people would always fish them out. I walked through the shops and said hello to the store owners that used to hire me for Summertime jobs as a teen. Then I went to the pond and skipped rocks. It felt good to do those things again. By the time I made it back to the beach the sun was just beginning to set. Judging by the bluish cast in the air I assumed it to be almost nine o'clock. Just about the time that the bars lit up only it was the first Monday after the Thirteenth and nobody would be hitting the bars except maybe a few old-timers that never missed a night. The town was calm and so was I. Until I heard a motorcycle coming down the main street. I looked back and saw a black and green chopper with Axel on it, a black bandanna tied over half of his face and a pair of sunglasses obstructing anyone from seeing what he looked like. I tried to make it appear as though I hadn't spotted him but he had spotted me and pulled up loudly, slowing to a steady chug just before the blockades. I didn't watch as he set his feet down on the ground, clutching the bars to maintain the weight of the machine between his legs. He revved the engine a couple of times in an attempt to get my attention but I didn't want to just whip around and go to him like some kind of pansy little girl with no backbone, even if that's exactly what I wanted to do. The engine roared again and I threw up my hands before turning around to face him. I shrugged at him and turned away again. Maybe it was immature of me but maybe I didn't care. He killed the engine and it wasn't long before I heard the shuffling of sand behind me. "Angel," he called to me. "Axel," I mumbled. "Hey! I'm talking to you. Don't ignore me," he commanded. Then it was time to whip around only to shoot a hateful look in his direction. He had pulled down his facemask and hooked the arm of his sunglasses onto the collar of his shirt so they were neatly tucked away beneath his leather jacket. He had even removed his riding gloves, opting to shove them in the back pocket of his jeans as he approached. "Oh! But it's okay for you to ignore me? Why don't you go get fucked." "Angel, please. I'm sorry." Struck by his apology, I shook my head in disbelief. He noticed my shocked reaction and smiled at me. He looked so menacing in his green boots, black jeans, and leather jacket but as soon as a hint of a smile cracked over his lips it threw off the entire illusion. "Sorry for what?" "For everything. I should have kept my hands to myself. You and I should have never gotten involved at all." "Okay, you sound like an asshole again." "I AM an asshole. That's what I have been trying to say! I am a constant source of disappointment to everyone I come across. There's nothing good about me at all." To hear him say those things about himself cut me inside. I frowned at him and reached for his hand. Turning his palm over, I stared at his rings and brushed the pad of my thumb over a=the skull-shaped one on his middle finger. I sighed heavily and let go of his hand and in response, he took a step toward me. "You are right though. I do owe you an explanation." Digging my toes into the sand, I waited for him to ready himself to speak again. He sighed and looked out over the water and then back at me. It was getting darker and the streetlights came on but the light didn't quite reach where we stood on the beach. "Obviously you saw what happened," he began with a heavy sigh. "Yes." "I'm still trying to figure it out. There's something wrong inside of me... There's something there that's rotten." "What is it?" "I don't know yet. All I know is that at any given moment, anyone around me is in danger." "Can't you control it?" I inquired. Axel scratched the back of his head then hooked his finger under his bandanna and pulled on it. "For the most part, yes. But... It gets harder to control when I'm pissed or... I don't know, excited?" "I understand why you don't like kissing now." Axel took one more step closer to me and closed the short gap between us. With my feet in the sand, he seemed extra tall and I tipped my head back to look at his face. "It's not that I don't like it. It's that... I don't want to hurt somebody and when I met you I knew that I had to be careful. If I did something to you... To Big Al's daughter... I'd be done." "So... You're sick? I still don't understand." "I don't understand it either. I've been searching for answers for a long time. I've been looking for somebody that can help me or at least explain why this affliction chose to manifest inside me." "I hope you find the answers you're looking for." "Me too." Axel wrapped his leather-clad arms around me and I returned the embrace, pressing my cheek to the left side of his chest and inhaling his scent quite possibly for the last time. "Axel..." "Yeah?" "I'm sorry for what I did to your bike. I just... I didn't want you to go. I wanted answers too. I know I'm a huge fucking selfish brat and I fucked up huge." "You did fuck up huge. Big time. But... So did I. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you." "I wanted it. I wanted you," I admitted. "Fuck, honey... I want you too. and it scares the Hell outta me for so many reasons." Squeezing him tighter, I tried to fight back the tears that were burning their way up from my throat to my eyes. He kissed the top of my head and held me harder still. "I don't want you to go," I whispered. "I don't want to be alone again." "I'm going to come back. I will. As soon as I can, I'll run to you. I just can't be with you right now. Not today... Not like this." "But you said you can control it." "Sometimes! I am not taking the risk that one day I might lose control. I lost control today, you saw! That could have been someone's face. I could have killed Braun. I could kill you just as easily." "Let me come with you!" I pleaded. "No! You're not coming with me. You wouldn't last a fucking week on the road." "I have it in me! I can do it." "Your father would have every biker in the country looking for me if I let you come with me. Don't be stupid... I know you're not." I finally broke and let out a sob. "I am stupid. So fucking stupid. I'm sorry!" "You're not stupid!" He held me by the arms and gave me a shake, my head wobbling lamely as I battled myself not to cry. It was a battle lost though and Axel pulled me back in. "You're just... A product of your environment. You're a spoiled brat with a father who let you do whatever you wanted because that's the motto he lives by." Axel started to giggle, holding me at an arm's length again so he could watch me cry. "Look at you. You're such a fucking brat! I can't handle it." "Shut up!" I sniffled. "Listen to me," his voice got lower. "It's not that I don't want you to come with me. It's just... You know you can't come without a bike. I'm following the Demons and you know damn well you can't ride with us unless you know your shit." "I can learn fast." "Yeah, you will. You're Al's daughter. You have a permanent fucking seat with us for life. There's a throne with your name on it, Angel. You just have to embrace it." "I'll learn, I promise." "I know you will," Axel told me. He leaned in and kissed me full and hard on the lips for a split second before pulling away again. "And you know I'm gonna be here every Thirteenth until the day I die, right?" Axel stroked my hair and pulled me into him again. His leather started to feel sticky on my skin so I pushed his jacket open and wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my fingers under the hem of his shirt just to feel his skin again. I knew his time to depart was drawing nearer but I just couldn't force myself to let go of him. His natural fragrance and his black leather was the most exhilarating combination of smells and I craved them. "Come on, walk to my bike with me," he whispered. I didn't say anything and I hardly looked up as he released me from his embrace, causing me to give him up. My arms hung loosely at my sides until he took my hand and pulled me along. Once we reached the blockades he let go of me and went into his throwover bag. I watched as he rummaged around and pulled out the acid-stained rag of a shirt that I hated as much as I loved. "Here. I wore this shirt for like five years straight when I was a teenager so it should stink like me forever," he passed the shirt to me and I accepted it. Then he went back to the jet black leather saddlebag and pulled out a stolen pair of my panties. I opened my mouth but nothing would come out. I could only watch as he rose them to his mouth and inhaled them, letting his lashes flutter, a demonic smirk darkening over his face. I held his shirt close to me and looked up at him with no words. He tucked my pink panties back into his bag and approached me, wrapping me up in his arms again. He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. I winced at the feeling of his mustache prickling my skin but welcomed it at the same time. Then he kissed my lips once, two times and then again for much longer. Relaxing, I melted into him and accepted any of his kiss I could get. He whimpered very slightly and I knew it was because he didn't want to stop. "I wasn't lying when I told you I'm coming back for that pussy," he whispered next to my ear. "I know." "Good." "I'll send you postcards." "Dirty ones?" "Are there any other kind?" We both laughed and it dawned like a great bell between us that it was time for him to get on his bike and leave. I drew a deep breath in through my nose and tried to cleanse myself of all of the emotion that had been shared. It was bittersweet to watch him straighten his back and stretch out before getting on his bike. With the toe of his boot, he kicked up the stand and mounted the Acid Bath Widow-Maker. He turned the ignition and she roared to life, lights blindingly sending a beam over the sand. Axel revved the engine before using his left hand to pull his facemask to his chin. "See you later, Zeitgeist." "See you later... Angelica," he called before yanking the black material up to cover his mouth and nose. Digging the soles of his boots into the ground, he walked the bike back, turned to me once more, winked then turned back toward the road. With a smooth peel out, Axel drove away and I watched him until he was out of sight. Shuddering out the remnants of my sadness, I started on my way home once the sound of the Widow Maker faded into the newly rising fog. My dad and Braun noticed me from the lit garage as I came up our street. I walked the length of the driveway and didn't stop until I was five feet away from them. I stared at my dad and then at Braun and then looked to the back of the garage where there was a bike covered by a thick black tarp. It had been shielded beneath the tarp for years, never moving. "Dad..." I said. "What's up, sweetheart?" "I wanna ride my bike."

FIN

[worldaliasarts]

Red Lips

Alister Kirkland x Momoka Honda

Part 1

TW: Blood and Cussing

Momoka brushed her hair a few times over before pinning a bright red flourish flower in her hair to match her blushed lips sighing gently.

Her father had promised another dinner to Oliver Kirkland, but failed to inform the family until that morning, with a pointed look towards his eldest daughter, Momoka. She had overheard their speaking of alliances and never understood why it would be of benefit to any one save for the fact her father figured she would not ever find love elsewise. He wasn't wrong. She wasn't looking. Besides it wasnt as if he or her mother entirely found love themselves...it felt nearly hypocritical, but she would do what was needed in order to please her father...even dining with a foolish boy..one with stupid pink hair on his stupid smiling face. She nearly hated him if she was being honest, he was always so carefree, unburdened by life...she was envious of it, as if it was a gift passed from the universe only to him, wholely unattainable for her.

She pursed her lips, adjusting her top to hide the ink on her skin, she figured Oliver would not take a liking to her many tattoos, in that case maybe she should show them off, in hopes to scare off the family and free her of them..maybe.

She left her shirt where it was, standing up.

Kusuru walked past her door pausing to look her over "you look nice, bachelorette"

"Oh shut your face, dumbass" she walked over kicking his calf, making him yell,

"Shitface!"

"Takes one to know one!" she furrowed her brows, shoving him out of the room, closing her door hard. Her cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she brushed her hair back into its place with the tips of her fingers, ignoring her brother's taunting voice outside of her door.

The consideration of all that might be neccesary to rid herself of these people was now more inclined.

She listed all the things she knew the Kirklands hated in her mind,..cussing, blood, she figured tattoos as well, and excessive showing of skin..that one she admittedly disliked herself...her father would certainly strike her, until she had learned her lesson after dinner, but that would be worth it....

Wounds heal.

She refused to be pawned off to be the mother and home maker of some weak willed child, who wasted his days with knitting and baking and frilly western dressmaking, was he even a man??

Certainly not by her standards....

And if she was to be arranged in marriage, she at least wanted a man.

She stripped down to her lingerie running a finger lightly over her collarbone as she stared at herself in the mirror, she may be labeled as one who lives a debauched life, someone with loose morals, or no regard, but once she'd risen to power, and taken over the family mantle, any mistaken fool who thought that would be swiftly corrected.

She knelt in front of her dresser, and pulled open the drawer, gently pulling out each part of her kimono.

She put each layer on, loosely, allowing it to droop around her shoulders, making certain she looked indecent.

She pulled on her tabi socks, before she pulled the pretty hair pin out, setting it down carefully on her vanity. She stood walking across the room before kneeling once more, in front of a cabinet..she supposed now was as good a time as any to open it.

She pulled open the small wooden box, pulling out a small bottle of rice wine, gently cupping her hand, and pouring it lightly in, lathering it over her neck and some through her hair before she took a small swig, exhaling gently, returning the bottle to it's place and closing the doors.

She looked down at her palm,..perhaps this would be enough...perhaps drawing blood from herself might be crossing the line....

Her cheeks heated as she practiced in her mind acting like a loose lipped drunk, she wasnt entirely sure that she was capable...she supposed that she would have to be in order to pull this off.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a car pulled into the gravel drive. She glanced out the window as three people came out and approached her front door, she waited until they had been welcomed into the home before she made her way out of her window, climbing down to the ground, careful of her clothing, before giving her hair one last good toussle.

Kusuru answered the door, looking their guests up and down crossing his arms, biting the inside of his cheek as he stepped aside, watching them take their shoes off and step into his home.

Oliver Kirkland. Father to the child whom his sister was promised to, along with his wife, Aubree, who looked like she'd rather be literally anywhere else, than here with any of the people in this room, and of course the golden child himself, Alister Kirkland..his presence unsettled Kusuru, he didn't understand why, but he hated the tension in his nerves, and his unconcious flinching as he approached.

"やめて,(stop)" he growled slightly, glowering down at the pink haired boy

He laughed lightly "I hope you're doing alright Kusuru,.." he gave a gentle smile

"しね、ねずみ(die, rat)" he spat, his nose scrunching with distaste as he tried his best not to look unsettled. He was successful.

Alister blinked, smiling with another laugh "いお、ごめなさい(okay! I'm sorry.)" he bowed apologetically "I didn't mean to offend you Honda-San.."

Kusuru blinked, taken slightly aback, he hadn't expected to be understood.

"Please...make yourselves comfortable, I apologize for Kusuru's behaviour,..." His mother excused him gently, as she poured some tea for their guests, looking back at him from the corner of her eye.

Kusuru gave a huffing sigh, shifting and glancing away, he knew there would be words later, but did both of his parents honestly expect to marry his sister off to this freak? When she could break him with her pinky?? Their parents expected them both to just go along with it? No questions asked and no attempts to get out of it?...Though that was moreso his mode of operation than hers.

He glanced to the staircase. She must have gotten cold feet he guessed,...if she didnt have to be here, maybe he didn't either.

As if reading his thoughts, his father cleared his throat "Kusuru, retreive your sister.." he added a look to make sure he knew he'd better return, and he nodded, swallowing lightly before moving towards the stairs, rapping on her door "Momoka....everyones waiting for you, stupid.." he sighed.

Being greeted with silence, he furrowed his brows, and opened the door, his brows furrowing deeper into a frown "Momoka??" he looked around her empty room, walking over to the windowsil "Momoka..??" he called.

There was not even a trace of her.

He glanced over seeing her hair pin from earlier.

"Shit," he slammed a hand against the window frame, before he pinched his nose sighing, "Why do I have to cover for your selfish ass" he gritted his teeth, growling quietly, before he headed back downstairs.

"Where is your sister?" His father demanded.

"Not here.." he said giving a nonchalant look paired with a shrug he knew he'd regret.

Oliver gave a sympathetic smile in the Japanese man's direction, "Don't worry Kuro, we can come again another time.."

Kuro narrowed his eyes "...I plead you stay for dinner nontheless"

Alister nodded piping in "I think that's a wonderful idea,..! May we please, Mummy?" he asked looking to Oliver.

The older man smiled and nodded patting his son's head "Of course Poppet"

Kusuru furrowed his brows looking to Alister "What?"

He met his gaze, tilting his head innocently,

"Are you sick in the head or something??" Kusuru asked

"No...I don't believe so, why?" he asked, tilting his head some in the other direction.

He pointed to Oliver "You have to have hit your head extra hard then, because t h a t is n o t your mother, he has a dick-"

Oliver stood abruptly, placing his hands over Alister's ears, his eyes swirling just slightly "I'd rather we kept the conversation elsewhere..." he spoke quickly.

Before the black haired boy could continue, the door creaked open and a barefooted mess of a girl stumbled forward, tracking mud inside, giggling in a stupified manner before falling over against the wall, squealing lightly.

Kuro's eyes widen, along with the rest of his family's and their guests.

"Momoka Honda!" his voice cracked through the air, and her giggles, and she stumbled into a mostly upright position, placing a hand over her mouth, in order to look like she was stifling a laugh.

Alister's cheeks blazed red on her account as her kimono fell a little looser, falling off her shoulder completely. He rushed to her, pulling his hooded teal cloak from his shoulders, leaning up in order to drape them around hers, in an attempt at modesty for her.

"..Are you quite alright, love?" he asks, genuinely concerned about her, gently taking her free hand as a means of stability, to her surprise, causing her to blink, staring down at him, her cheeks warm at the physical contact. The words in her mind, her actions muddle.

She couldn't think.

Her brain paniked as she tries to process everything, her master plan had been easily thwarted and she was unsure how to proceed.

"..Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhit." she said the only word on her mind.

Oliver's eyes swirled faster, and he cleared his throat.

Alister's eyes flickered as well, as he continued to look up at her "Poppet,..-" he said, before glancing away and looking back at her "-Love, it's alright, you're home now,...you should go and get some rest now"

She took in a quiet, sharp, and shakey breath before she gave another loud giggle "You...you shhhould see your faces right now..!" she stumbled forward, leaning on Alister a little as she carried on in a sing songey manner "Shit shit shit shit shit shit sh-" a finger covered her mouth, and the grip on her hand was tightened, as Alister's smile twitched "Please don't speak anymore," he said with gentle cheer.

Momoka's eyes widened slightly, her mouth gaping some as her eyes drifted to her hand, that he was gripping, as she gave out a small cry of pain.

How did he have this tight of a hold on her?? her fingertips were changing colour, from the grip of this...twig??

Kusuru moved himself, suddenly standing between his sister and the strawberry blonde. "Back up,.." he growled.

The smaller boy blinked, letting her hand go, allowing her to stumble backward, holding her hand close to her chest underneath the cloak, as she fell against the wall with a quiet thud.

"I apologize, I must have zonked out for a moment there,.." he gave a gentle innocent laugh before looking at the slightly shook up Momoka "Love, are you alright,..?" he asked, once more, moving towards her only to have Kusuru side step and block him.

"You've done enough, she's fine without you, rat" kusuru hissed.

Momoka glanced away, looking at the door, she wasn't actually drunk,...her mind worked just fine...so why did she still feel like her thoughts were muddied, one gigantic crashing sound in her brain, "God..damn..." she exhaled, sucking in a breath as she felt her body being shoved against the wall, Alister's eyes hot pink, burning into her as he gripped her mouth, leaning up on his toes in order to whisper in her ear "If you do not stop speaking I will do so for you,...in the least cute way you can imagine.." Momoka furrowed her brows, anger boiling up in her as tears pricked her eyes, she shoved him off of herself "do n o t touch me, you vile small man" she ripped his cloak away from her neck, throwing it at him, about to shout once more before Kuro's voice is raised and he shouts "Enough!"

All three looked to him.

"All of you. I have seen e n o u g h." He points to Momoka "You have shamed myself and this family more than you can repay in this evening or any other..!"

Kuro kneeled into a deep and respectable bow, his wife following suit, beside him as he spoke to Oliver "I sincerely hope you may forgive my foolish children, and their many ailments"

Oliver gave him yet another sympathetic smile "...Its expected for things to be dicey with two..i understand, dont worry, old friend"

"Thank you..." He sighed, and slowly sat up "..If you will continue to endure us, we can start dinner, however I understand if it is not your preference.."

"You would know." Kusuru mumbled.

Oliver glanced to him arching a brow "Whatever do you mean?"

"...You would know how things get dicey, having two kids. You were just less fortunate with the seating arrangement" he gave Alister a look which was hard to decipher.

"....Perhaps.." a still feverish eyed Alister spoke "...But it has it's advantages." He returned the unreadable look.

Momoka looked between the two boys, her cheeks burned from where Alister's nails had dug in, and her hand still pulsated, she could feel a bruise building on her wrist...no doubt he could kill her,...if he wanted to. It was a thought she hated in itself, but it didn't change that fact.

She adjusted her clothing layers to be tighter around her body, while the attention was not on her, continuing to turn it over in her mind. Perhaps it wasn't actually a matter of alliance, it was a matter of her being his only option. Either way she was a pawn, but this new thought made her feel especially discardable. He shouldn't even be her problem.

Then again, was she ever really more than discardable to her father? He was a cold hearted man...he had made her cold hearted too,...though not so much that she was unable to consider the possible consequences to repeated offenses.

She wondered what Alister was capable of....what his father was capable of...perhaps her defiance would put her family in danger.... This was the thought she disliked the most.

She gently lowered to her knees, as well, gracefully stretching her arms out in a bow "...I....sincerely apologize" she started, everyones eyes turning to her. "It was uncooth of me to present myself in any style less than what is deserving in honour to you,..all...."

She remained there, her eyes trained on the floor as she waited.

Aubree was the first to speak "We all do stupid..." she paused clearing her throat "...stuff. Dont worry about it, honey"

she glanced up only slightly to look at the woman, before looking down once more "You are more than too kind.."

Aubree nudges Alister nodding towards Momoka, and he walked over, kneeling and taking her hand, the pink hue finally discipating, the bright blue returning, before he furrowed his brows "Love, why are you on the floor??" he pulled her up to her feet as he stood "Are you alright..?" he asks again, and she cant help but sigh, nodding "Yes...I am fine, I apologize,..."

She fought the urge to slid her hand out of his as she spoke again to ask "Might I go to my room..and refresh myself?"

Alister kept hold of her hand until they reached the staircase and she ascended, disappearing momentarily.

She sat in her room pouring jasmine scented oil along her scalp, combing through her hair in order to lesson the smell of sake.

She brushed a part of her hair back one more time, clipping in the red flowers, painting her lips again with red, before returning downstairs.

Alister looked her over with surprise, before a gentle smile formed "You look beautiful"

Her cheeks heated once more and she looked away "...you flatter me.." She felt so silly, feeling her heart beat rising once more over this man.

He shook his head "I mean what I say.."

Kusuru made a loud gagging noise in mockery of the two, wincing as Momoka socked him in the side.

"Bitch!" He yelled at her, shoving her before Kuro cleared his throat and Momoka coiled back from her almost retaliation.

"My apologies..." she said, folding her hands together, tightly, before she walked to the table, taking a seat.

Kusuru and Alister sat on either of her sides, causing her brow to twitch with irritation, though she remained silent.

The three of them remained silent for the duration of the night, apart from asking to pass condiments, allowing the adults, mostly the two men to talk between themselves, the whole dinner.

As the night came to a close the Kirklands departed, Alister placed a shy kiss on Momoka's cheek, much to her dismay before waving goodbye and heading out into the dark.

As soon as the car was gone, Kuro turned to his children "...Strip and wait for me outside." He commanded, as he headed to his study in order to get his bamboo sticks.

The two gave each other a look before doing as the were told, kneeling on the grass in nothing but their under garments.

Their father appeared beside them making as if to hit Momoka first, she tensed, but didn't feel the sting, rather she hears a small cry out of her brother's mouth, before he curls his mouth in, biting to keep himself silent.

"How dare you call our guests rats." His father struck him "At all, let alone to their faces." he struck him once more, his voice raising "and telling them to die!?" he hit him once more "I will make you w i s h you had only been speaking to yourself!" he continued to strike him, until he heard another pained noise out of his sons mouth, having drawn blood, he continued to beat him, for a while longer, creating streaks along his back, before he ceased, looking to Momoka "And you."

She tensed more preparing for her share of strikes "you shame our family, our name, and purposefully provoke your soon to be husband"

"...I would never marry that monster.." she whispered under her breath.

The man gave a dry laugh "do not speak as if you are above him. You too have spilled blood and harmed others...and done worse." he motioned to her brother "you did it just now."

She looked down, biting her tounge to keep from lashing back "...I am sorry, father."

"I'm not the one who needs to be apologized to."

She looked at him and looked away.

He handed her the bamboo "strike your brother"

"But father-"

"Strike him, or i will do so, ten fold on your behalf!" he shouted

She flinched slightly, and stood to her feet, sending a crack against her brothers back, making him dig his nails into the dirt.

"Again." Kuro commanded, and she did so. "Again." he repeated, and she looked at him, hesitatig, "please father, allow me to take my own punshiment..."

"You are taking your own punishment!" he shouted, pointing to her brother's bleeding back, he understood their closeness, even when they acted as if they hated one another. He knew how much this hurt her. "Strike him again!"

And so she obeyed, continuing for what felt like an eternity to both of them, before he allowed her to stop. She helped her brother to his feet, heading inside to clean her brother's wounds.

She is gentle when doing so, with little compensation. Though she hadn't pictured it exactly this way, the consequences were as she figured.

This would be the one and only night anyone suffered from her failure to consider consequences.

She bound up her brother's whole back in gauze, helping him to his room, putting him under the sheets, face first.

She sat on the floor in front of the bed "Im sorry Kusuru, I never meant..." she sighed "I never wanted you caught up in my issues"

"You're a piece of shit.." he growled lowly, tilting his body a little so he could look at her.

"Yes...I know" she frowned some at him.

"But you're still my sister, you dumbass, and I dont know what the hell is broken in that candy man's head, but I don't want him anywhere near you. He's a freak and he's gonna hurt you.. He already has hurt you."

Momoka looked at the carpet sighing "I can defend myself just fine, Kusuru. Besides...his father likely wouldn't be happy to hear that. In either case, if i can't defend myself I ought to get hurt... and if i can't defend myself from death...I ought to die." she stood, sighing "..but thanks for worrying.. it's nice to know you care" she gave him a light head pat.

"I still hate your guts though." he made sure she knew and she nodded "i do too." she mumbled and flicked off his bedroom light, going to her own room, flopping on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the night..what a terrible terrible night.

With her mind refusing to relax, and the smell of sake and jasmine mixing in her hair, she gave up on all hopes of rest. Getting up, she headed off to the bathroom.

She sat on a stool, splashing water over her head a few times, before climbing into the bath tub, trying to do a better job of relaxing with the steam and gentle sway of the warm water helped.

She closed her eyes, remembering how the hairs on the back of her neck stood when Alister's eyes changed colour, she'd never seen anything like it,...even more frightening was his father, though he controlled himself much better.

She paused, recalling the words Aubree spoke just in her ear when departing, "I..wouldn't want to knowingly be married to that either,..." she had said.

Strangely enough, she may quickly become her only ally, understanding what it would be like to walk on thin ice within your own home all the time..

Was that going to be her future? Walking on eggshells, and building a family that was only hers to care for? Was it really t h a t silly of her to think if she ever did get married, her husband would tolerate her instead of love her? Even that would be better than a daily threat on her life...though he was sick enough in the head that maybe that was how he showed love.

She supposed Alister might learn to tolerate her...in a more normal manner. She had never been the focus of his anger like that...he seemed so...vulnerable.....until he was pushed. 

She sunk further under the water, immersing herself fully, wanting to just stop thinking about everything, but she couldn't, it just continued, round and round in her head, and then she bobbed her head back up out of the water, panting, light and breathy.

She pulled herself up out of the water, reaching to grab a towel, pulling it over before pausing to glance behind, a jolt rushing through her body, as she hurried to pull the towel around herself "Alister, what the-" his hand was once more clasped onto her cheeks, as he reached over from the windowsill. 

"No more unclean words this evening, Poppet" 

 She gripped his wrist, ripping it off her face, as she stepped backwards, climbing out of the bath  "What do you want?" she growled to hide her fear. "Don't you have any sense of decency?"

"Decency?" he scoffed, traveling into the room with ease and grace, landing in front of her, getting close to her, running a hand over her back into the small of it, pulling her closer "You're one to speak with all that you tried to pull this evening.." 

She backed up, gripping the side of the tub. He stepped closer, wrapping a hand around her waist a little more "Besides...everyone knows that you belong to me by now.." he spoke in a hushed tone, it sparked an angry flame in her chest, and her hair raised before she shoved him off "As if I would ever submit to anyone-any t h i n g" she corrected herself "like you." she glowered down at him, making the most of their height difference "you are small and insignificant, and no amount of anything you could do to me would change my mind."

He laughed "The look in your eye makes me wonder which one of us you're speaking to, Poppet.." he cupped her cheek "Don't act so big and mighty, 10 inches is not 10 feet," he said as his grip shifted to around her neck as he forced her to the ground "and even if it were, anyone can be brought down...haven't you ever heard of David and Goliath?"

She couldn't help but wince against the black marble floor as her knees hit it. She didn't dare to look up at him. She wished her mind and heart weren't warring against one another, she could neither be submissive nor dominant firmly with her internal conflict continuing. She hated it.

Nearly as much as she was beginning to hate this man.

He ran his fingers through her long wet hair before he wrapped it around his fist, pulling her up, towards his face, making her squeeze her eyes shut.

"Poppet...we can still make this work,..frankly you don't have much choice in the matter. Alister needs someone. And I chose you...seeing as no one else is remotely good enough.."

"...You're your own problem.." she gritted her teeth "If you weren't so broken and twisted perhaps Alister could actually find someone to care for him..." she spat, not looking at him.

He gave a dull laugh "I'm what stands between Alister and getting his heart crushed..what you call broken and twisted, I call protection.

"...You're crushing his heart yourself, deeming everyone less than good enough for him, hampering any chance of him finding genuine love." she said, her brows furrowed.

The man also furrowed his brows he nearly scoffed, but she continued speaking.

"It makes sense that Alister should get to decide himself...he's his own person" She sighed, looking up at him, "I'm not going to hurt him...I'm an Asshole not an idiot..."

While he hadn't appreciated the language, he understood, his grip loosened up enough for Momoka to pull her head away from his grip, though she felt a few strands tearing away from her head as she did so. She rubbed the spot, pulling herself to her feet. 

"But that doesn't mean I could ever honestly love him either. I will do what I must, and see that he is cared for. Enough to protect my family. Nothing more."

"He will be your family soon enough too."

She sighed, scratching her eyebrow, he wasn't wrong, but she knew he was well aware of what she meant "Please leave my home."

He looked from the pieces of her hair between his fingers to her, "You weren't ever drunk were you..?" he asked quietly.

She didn't understand how his tone could change, how he felt bigger, more authoritative when he was like this.. 

Where she normally wouldn't feel the need to respond, he made her feel as though she didn't have a choice but to respond.

She shook her head lightly "...No."

He hummed, "Good." he stepped towards the door "Go and see him tomorrow,..properly." he commanded before he slipped out of the door, and out of the house through the front door, without so much as a creaking step.

Not even Momoka could do that, even with all her stealth training,...she continued to feel inferior to this man. And she continued to hate it.

She leaned back against the bathtub, sighing. As if she didnt already have far too much on her mind....

[iteration23]

MARIA

The smell of decay filled Vyndo'thoran's nostrils as he tread across the cursed battlefield. Despite being a war veteran for many years, he hadn't become accustomed to the scent death gave off. His face visibility contorted, showing clear discomfort. Yes, he had an iron stomach and yes he had experienced this particular stench before, but somehow he doubted he'd ever get over it. He lead a pack of Argent Dawn down into a patch of desecrated ground in the Eastern Plaguelands, peaking backwards every so often to make sure everyone was still there. This wasn’t his first trip bringing supplies to Light’s Hope, but he still got anxious on every trek. This anxiety seemed to increase ten-fold now that he was a lieutenant and it was his duty to keep his squadron safe from harm; whether it be from bears or ghouls. The aroma wasn’t getting any better. Nay, he was pretty sure it was getting worse.

Vyndro looked over his shoulder, peering behind him to see his beautiful wife, Maria, riding an overloaded Argent Dawn courser. She looked as elegant as ever in her battle armor; her dark brown hair fishtailed down the front of her tabard and it was apparent that she had really put time into maintaining her appearance today. He wasn’t sure why she did this every time they went to Light’s Hope, but he knew she’d say something like “I do it to make a good impression” or something ridiculous. Their eyes met after a moment of Vyndro staring. Her face contorted and she dramatically put her hands up to her neck, miming the obvious. Vyndro laughed, nodding in agreement and mouthing the words "holy shit this is bad". They had met as initiates back in The Western Plaguelands, both following in their parent's footsteps and had been married for a good 10 years before her family came to terms with her marrying a Sin'dorei instead of another human. They had their doubts about Vyndro; a man who would go without hesitation onto the battlefield to protect his fellow paladins and had no issue pitting himself against enemies stronger than him. And, though they were now coming up on their 15 year anniversary, her family was still hesitant to accept him into their ranks. Vyndro half wondered if they ever would... But, he was a charming man. He knew full well that if he tried hard enough, they'd enjoy his presence more; he just didn’t really care for their opinions.

Vyndro turned forwards again with a smile. They walked for another hour or so without any distractions or rest. The trek was fairly simple: Hearthglen to Light’s Hope Chapel. They had left in the early morning two nights prior and had stopped a few times. Vyndro kept going until someone made a comment about their feet falling off before he relented and allowed everyone to rest for a bit. He was in the middle of scoping out the area when he heard what sounded like footsteps. Immediately, his right hand went into the air, signaling everyone to stop. Besides the footsteps that seemed to be getting ever-closer, there was silence. The hair on Vyndro’s neck stood on end and his skin became speckled in goosebumps. He turned his attention behind him briefly, flashing an expression of what seemed to be half-fear and half-confidence. He looked back to Maria, who had no idea what was going on. There had been times when they had walked into an army of scourge before. But... Vyndro was never caught like a deer in headlights as he was in this moment. Something was off.

“Vyndro?” Maria kept her voice soft as to try not to draw more attention from whatever was in the area. She drew her brows, concerned as to what he had thought he heard. She maintained reassuring eye contact with him, despite having a wave of fear drive her stomach from her feet to her throat. “Vyndro... Say something!”

“Maria, you need to go. Take the troops onto higher ground and go east to Light’s Hope Chapel.” Fear filled the lieutenant’s voice, but he kept his composure fairly well, playing it off as urgency rather than something else.

“My love... We’ve fought many battles heel-to-heel before. What makes you think we’re up against something that you of all people cannot take down?”

“Maria, please listen to me. There’s something else here with them. You need to go! There’s no time to discuss this. As your superior officer, I order you to take the troops and retreat!” Vyndro’s voice was stern, albiet unconvincing to his human bride. She was a stubborn one; a trait that not only got her out of trouble but into the thick of it.

“Whatever faces us here, we can face together.” Maria pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

The sound of a sharp crack filled the air, causing the battalion to give themselves whiplash trying to find the source. Vyndro and the other paladins with whom he was walking drew their blades into a defensive position. In a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by ghouls and geists, far more than a squad of 15 could ever hope to survive. Vyndro’s hair continued to stand at attention as he looked for what he knew was in the vicinity. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide... Nothing but death await them by the end of this.

Vyndro leaned back with his face forwards, his blade still drawn and ready to defend his cargo and his men. In a whisper, loud enough for the other members of his militia could hear, he spoke. “Necromancer.” The paladins around him looked around and at each other, silent. Neither party moved, but a moment was all it took.

A shriek filled the air, and at a moment’s notice, the scourge befell the small group. Steel met rotting flesh and bone, and bone met flesh. Vyndro took the heat of the battle, bringing down as many undead as he could, but as he glance around, he noticed his paladins were falling at an unparalleled pace. He watched as his initiates fell one by one until he turned his head back, sword stuck deep within a rotting skeleton’s rib cage, and yelled his orders.

“Everyone, fall back!” He shouted, pulling his sword back as he attempted to escape to no avail. Only he and a few other members still stand, all still surrounded by beings that lust for their flesh. He turned around, watching more of his squadron fall before he met his gaze with Maria, cheeks tear-streaked. Her hands sat on her stomach -her blade rest on the ground, covered in blood. She mouthed “I’m sorry”, lifting her hands to show a wound as she sulked off the horse, which turned tail and ran until it too met it’s fate.

“Maria!” Vyndro rushed over to her, bending down to hold her in his arms. He knew what he was risking, but if she died... None of it would matter anymore. “Maria, please. Let me see.” He peeled her armor away to show a deep, nasty set of lacerations. She didn’t have a high pain tolerance, so the fact that she was not crying out in agony was most concerning to him. He applied pressure to the best of his ability, keeping his focus on her eyes. Vyndro started to sob, “Maria, you have to stay with me. Please, just stay in this moment with me.” A glance at her hands showed them becoming cold by the second. He started to panic, crying more as he heard more of his soldiers die. They, while not expendable, did not mean anything to him if he lost her. A cold hand reached up and brushed his tears away. Maria smiled faintly as she lay on the defiled ground, dying.

“ Band’or shorel’aran “

“I don’t want to say goodbye... Please don’t make me say goodbye, Maria. We can make it through this. Please, oh gods, please don’t take her from me!” Vyndro didn’t have any time left. A sharp pain befell his stomach and a blade rested upon his neck as he sank to the ground beside his beloved. He lay to rest on his side, holding her hand as she drew her last breath. He coughed up blood, knowing full well the severity of his wound. As he lay himself dying next to his wife and his fellow paladins, he heard footsteps approach; the same footsteps from before. Not a word was spoken as he heard ghouls step aside to let the figure through.

“Who stood the longest? Who would be a good addition to the Lich King’s arsenal?” The voice was raspy and deep, but nothing Vyndro had ever heard before. He felt a hard kick against his back but did not move, nor could he have if he wanted to.

“This one. Took out a good fraction of the ghouls before he let death get the best of him. A pity. He ran right over to this human as she fell.” A different voice answered... But this one was oddly familiar. Vyndro struggled to keep his eyes open. He closed them, wishing for death as he fell to darkness.

The last words he heard before he died were “Raise him, burn the rest.”

[blackwxtchmccree]

Alright I’m sure everyone is sick of the Inquisition posts, but I’m doing a mini-series on AO3 entitled ‘Scars’ regarding my Inquisitors and their respective romances because I just cannot fucking wait for DA4 and I need something to fill the time. 

Warnings: consequences of reckless past decisions, angst, kisses, shirtless gingers, nosy Inquisition scouts -Valk

Can also be found on my AO3 >>> here

Rumors

Dorian had seen his fair share of shirtless men in his time.

He always tried not to stare and was successful most of the time, but sometimes he did a double take—for various reasons, of course. This time, it was because the man he had dragged into his library alcove and kissed, the man who had convinced him to stay and talk to his father to get some closure, and the man who had gotten drunk with him when he was hurting was standing in front of him now with his shirt off.

To be fair it was warm outside—a rarity given how deep in the Frostback Mountains Skyhold was situated—and the fact that this was the Inquisitor’s room; he could do damn well whatever he wanted. But upon ascending the stairs, Dorian hadn’t considered being met with this particular view once he had reached the top, his eyes falling on a shirtless Damien standing in front of his desk, the doors to the balconies open, letting the warm breeze in.

The mage was quick to let his eyes wander across the taut muscles and scarred, freckled skin of Damien’s back before he was caught staring. He wanted to feel them move against his skin, feel the power they held—

“You’re looking at me like I’m about to disappear into thin air.”

Busted.

Damien looked up from whatever papers he was holding, glancing over his shoulder before putting them down on his desk and turning toward the Tevinter mage. Dorian almost missed the small, playful smile that had graced Damien’s lips as he moved.

“Given recent events, I can’t say that would be too unusual,” Dorian replied in stride with a shrug, careful not to trip over his words and forcing himself to meet Damien’s warm gaze. “We did time travel, after all.”

“Got me there,” the Inquisitor replied with an amused huff, crossing his muscular arms across his chest and leaning against his desk. “Did you need something?”

“Not if you’re busy.”

“I’m always busy these days, but anything for you.”

Those words made warmth bubble up in Dorian’s chest and he had to push it down, not wanting to become too hopeful—Damien was the Inquisitor and Dorian was just a mage from Tevinter. The mage had already heard whisperings around the halls about them and while rumors never bothered him, he worried what it would do to Damien reputation, but if the Inquisitor had heard anything of the sort, he hadn’t said a word, much less let it bother him, it seemed.

“I found myself lacking a book to read and came to see if you had any recommendations.”

“None of the books in the library catching your fancy, or have you read them all already,” Damien teased, pushing himself off of his desk and moving to the other side towards the bookshelves that lined the walls behind his chair. Dorian watched him move, nearly forgetting to reply when the Inquisitor reached up, the muscles on his back rippling with the movement.

“I figured if they gave anyone the good books it would be you.”

That gave the Inquisition’s new leader pause and he lowered his arm, seemingly to have remembered something, instead turning towards his desk and bending down. Opening the bottom drawer, he pulled something out, popping back up with a thick, leather-bound book in hand, flipping through the worn pages for a moment before kicking the drawer closed.

“I found it buried in the sand in the basement of Coracavus while we were poking around looking for the source of the darkspawn in the Western Approach,” Damien said as he handed it off to Dorian, smiling slightly at the mage’s eagerness when he took it out of the warrior’s hands. “I meant to give it to you once I finished it a few days ago. It has some… interesting takes on ancient Tevinter that I’m sure you’ll have an opinion or two on.”

“I suppose I’m rather opinionated, aren’t I?” The mage meant for that sentence to come out playfully, but his tone leaned more towards dejection, unsure of whether the man in front of him meant it as an observation or a criticism.

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s cute when you passionately ramble about your homeland—and it keeps me on my toes, at any rate,” Damien reassured, sensing Dorian’s crestfallen tone, noting (with some satisfaction) the change in Dorian’s posture when the compliment left his mouth. “You’re welcome to stay. The chaise is unoccupied and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Dorian only had presence of mind enough to nod in response, slightly flustered at the offer (which was unusual for him), but grateful nonetheless. He quickly settled onto the plush couch, quietly criticizing the decor in the room before flipping the book open, noting the yellowing pages and torn corners, careful to leaf through the pages gently.

The Tevinter scion had always prided himself on his ability to focus. He could sit and read an entire novella with every possible distraction going on around him and still comprehend every word he read. It’s part of why he was so talented, after all—the ability to block everything out around him had helped immensely while studying magical theories and coming up with magical theories of his own, but today, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus.

The breeze filtering through the open windows, the soft echoing of the collision of swords from the courtyard below, the rustling of feathers as Leliana’s messenger ravens came and went with notes to and from the Inquisitor—it was the most peaceful and the quietest their lives had been in months, he realized.

Dorian also realized he was far too aware of Damien moving on the opposite side of the room and had to force himself to keep his eyes on the words in front of him, though he couldn’t help, but glance up every now and then, quietly drinking in the sight of the Inquisitor at work. Dorian watched in silent amusement every time Damien’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make out Cullen’s chicken scratch or every time the ginger unsuccessfully searched through the paper’s scattered on his desk for his quill to write a note to himself or to Josephine.

From there, the mage couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering, letting them slip down over the ginger’s strong shoulders and across the expanse of his chest, realizing as his eyes progressed that Damien had freckles everywhere.

I wonder how far down th-

-but before the mage could even finish the thought, he dismissed it—again not wanting to be too hopeful.

In contrast, Dorian realized that the warrior also had a fair share of scars littering his skin as well, criss-crossing his shoulders down his sides and back. His eyes lingered longer than he should have let them, his curiosity getting the better of him and his heart silently hoping he’d get the chance to memorize each and every one of them.

“If you ask, I can tell you how I got most of them,” Damien said from across the room, drawing Dorian rather abruptly out of his thoughts, causing the mage to jump. “Others I feel like I woke up and they were just there.”

Dorian took a small beat to feel slightly embarrassed at being caught staring again, but instead of sitting in his chagrin he marked the page he was on and set the book aside, getting up and approaching the Inquisitor. He hesitated for a moment as he reached up, finally settling on tracing a fingertip gently across the scar on the Inquisitor’s right shoulder, suppressing a small smile when he felt Damien shiver.

“Templar in the Hinterlands,” Damien replied, green eyes fluttering closed at the sudden contact. “Right before we met at Redcliffe, actually.”

Dorian nodded, tracing Damien’s collarbone to his other shoulder, dragging two fingers over the crisscrossing scars that marked his freckled skin there.

“Landed on my shoulder when I dove into that cave below Haven after I caused the avalanche and chased Corypheus and his dragon away. Didn’t even realize I was bleeding until Cullen mentioned it when you guys found me in the snow.”

“I heard the words ‘he’s bleeding’ as they passed by and I’ll admit I started worrying.”

“So little faith in me, I see,” Damien chided playfully, opening his emerald eyes to meet Dorian’s brown ones.

“You faced impossible odds. We didn’t even know if you were alive and suddenly there you were, albeit limping and half-frozen, but breathing all the same.”

Damien nodded, following Dorian’s fingers as they traced down his muscular chest to the scar that marked his left pec.

“Bar fight, believe it or not,” the Inquisitor laughed. “My older sister and I snuck out one night for drinks. She was a mage—some asshat drunk Templar started yelling at her and pulled a dagger. I got between them and broke his wrist.”

“Wish I could have seen that,” Dorian snorted in amusement, moving slightly closer, testing Damien’s boundaries cautiously and taking it as a good sign when he didn’t move away.

Dorian traced the delicate outline of Damien’s abs, feeling them flex under his touch, making his breath catch in this throat. His fingertip eventually reached the crisscrossing scars on Damien’s left side just below his ribcage.

“Ice spell from a Venatori mage-”

“-in front of the Still Ruins—I remember that. I tried to cast a barrier on you before that spell hit you, but I wasn’t fast enough.” Guilt washed over him as he said it, his brow furrowing as he tried to form an adequate apology, but Damien was quick to put it to rest.

“Don’t—it happens. I should’ve been paying more attention—and it made for a cool scar, anyhow.”

“It could’ve killed you.”

“But it didn’t.”

Dorian shook his head, still not completely forgiving himself, but putting the matter to rest for the moment. His finger trailed to Damien’s other side across another smaller scar lying just above his hip bone. It was slightly fainter and harder to see than the others, but it was definitely there.

“Fell out of a tree when I was 10. My sister convinced me that if I climbed high enough and sat still enough the birds would sit on my shoulders—needless to say not only was I was disappointed, but I nearly broke everything on the right side of my body.” That one made Dorian chuckle—it was far more innocent and due to something far less... lethal than the others.

With that, Dorian finally stepped away for a moment, stepping around Damien and examining his back again, his hand finding the two long, clawmark-like scars that extended across most of the warrior’s upper back and shoulder blades. It made his heart skip a beat as he slid his palm gently across the healed skin, feeling Damien quiver under his touch again.  

“You looked like you might faint when I got that one.”

“I think it was the dragon breathing fire at us that did that. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“I almost did—hurt like a bitch. Lesson learned, at least—never turn your back on a high dragon,” Damien shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the mage as Dorian’s brown eyes looked him up and down languidly. “Bull thought it looked badass, but the fact that I couldn’t bend in any direction or sleep on my back for about a month says otherwise.”

“Oh however did you survive,” Dorian teased, making is way back around to face the front of the Inquisitor again. “And I’m sure you’ll still say taking that poor giant fire-breathing lizard with wings down was worth it.”

“And I stand by it.”

Dorian forced himself not to roll his eyes, though the smile that had crept onto his face outwardly showed his contentment. The mage reached up to the final scar, bringing a hand up to cup Damien’s face gently, his heart fluttering when the Inquisitor leaned into his touch, the warrior’s pretty green eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. Dorian took note of the melancholy reflected in Damien’s eyes before he even asked.

The mage traced the scar that extended from just above the warrior’s eyebrow and arched down to just beside Damien’s right eye. While Damien’s eyes had been the first thing Dorian had noticed when they met—the striking green unlike anything he’d ever seen—the scar tracing through the Inquisitor’s right eyebrow and across the crest of his cheekbone had been the second and Dorian had wondered if he’d ever get the chance to ask.

“This one must have hurt.”

“In more ways than one.”

Dorian could detect the grief in the Inquisitor’s tone, realizing whatever memory was associated with that scar was far from a pleasant one. He wanted to ask, but didn’t want to pry. Damien gave him the answer anyway—knowing the mage would be curious and knowing he’d have to tell the story eventually, anyway; it might as well be to someone he adored.

“Three months before the Conclave—part of why I traveled to the Conclave, was because my sister died as a result of the Mage-Templar War. We were passing by a tavern in Ostwick when a group of templars and mages got into it with each other outside. She was never one for violence and we tried getting between them thinking we could convince them to leave the other alone. Next thing I knew I was being thrown into a wall with swords pointed at me. Elizabeth was on the ground and I couldn’t reach her before the templars put her down like a dog—screaming about death to all apostates.”

A bitter laugh escaped as he spoke.

“She didn’t even have her staff with her—they had no way of knowing she was a mage and they just struck her down where she stood.”

Dorian couldn’t even begin to form a fitting response, the way Damien’s voice broke making his chest clench. Expressing his condolences seemed too insincere, though the story did make the underlying reasons for Damien’s decisions thus far more clear. He settled for cupping Damien’s face with both hands this time, coaxing the Inquisitor gently down to meet his lips.

It was a soft kiss at first, far less intense and far more deliberate than their first. Dorian let his hands drag across Damien’s chest, his fingers finding the scar on the warrior’s chest again, smirking into the kiss when Damien hummed in approval. That smirk was quickly erased when Damien bit teasingly at Dorian’s bottom lip, causing the mage to groan. Dorian broke the kiss to glare at the ginger.

Damien chuckled, nuzzling his cheek into Dorian’s palm and closing his eyes again. The rubbing of the warrior’s stubble on his palm caused a chill to run up Dorian’s spine. The mage gently rubbed the pad of his thumb across the ginger’s cheekbone in response, wiping away a stray tear he realized had settled there. He wished he knew the right thing to say—to make it easier, but if what Damien had said was true, even if his sister’s death wasn’t his freshest wound, it was still the deepest. And from the Inquisitor’s tone, Dorian was positive it was still an open wound, even if the only evidence of the event had already healed over and left it’s external mark.

The Inquisitor finally opened his eyes, dipping down to steal Dorian’s lips again, dispelling the despondent atmosphere that had started to gather. Dorian returned it with just as much fervor as before, dragging a hand up the back of Damien’s head and through his short hair. Damien was quick to respond, reaching up and pushing his hands through Dorian’s dark hair, angling his head to the side and deepening the kiss. It made Dorian’s heart skip a beat—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time and he almost smiled in contentment.

They broke apart when they heard rushed footsteps approaching the door. Dorian jumped, eyeing Damien, who nodded his head almost guiltily towards the chaise. Dorian nodded in understanding, returning to his former seat with haste, and picking up his book again.

Damien cleared his throat, picking up the paper’s he had been holding before being interrupted earlier, pretending to inspect them intently as the door at the bottom of the stairs opened. Before whoever it was got to the crest of the stairs; however, Damien shot Dorian an appreciative and almost apologetic look. The mage smiled in return, flipping his book back open again and going back to reading as if nothing had happened between them at all.

Dorian tuned out most of the subsequent conversation with what turned out to be an Inquisition scout, knowing it likely wasn’t any of his business. As the scout left; however, Dorian happened to glance up as she turned around, his gaze meeting hers for a moment. He had to suppress a smirk when she realized that someone else was in the room, unable to keep the surprise from being reflected on her face. She left far more quickly than she came and Dorian watched her go before turning to look at Damien again.

“If we hear any new rumors going around, at least we’ll know who started them.”

The Inquisitor shrugged.

“Let them talk.”

[keys-to-the-mine]

The Lost Mine of Phandelver – Chapter 1

The party traveled south from Neverwinter guarding the supply wagon bound for Phandalin.  Soon after they reached the Triboar Trail, they were set upon by a group of goblins, nearly losing three party members in the fray. One goblin got away and ran up the trail to the north but not before seeing his friend shoot the human man so hard he turned into a female demon, then witnessing the human in leather snap his bowstring, and marveling how that big one with the shield could flail about so wildly yet hit nothing.  How this band of misfits gained the upper hand against his brethren was a mystery he would ponder intently as he raced back to report to the three guards standing watch outside the cave.

An inspection of the ambush site revealed that the horses had belonged to Gundren (the owner of the wagon and patron of this venture) and his companion Sildar.  Realizing they must rescue their employer, the decision was made to chase down the goblin.  After camouflaging their wagon, the group set off up the trail after him. There were two traps found along the trail; the snare was burned up by the wizard and the rogue took the credit for the paladin’s sharp eyes spying the pit a little further along.

As the intrepid band of heroes approached the cave where the goblins were hiding out, the three (nay, now four!) sentries stationed outside the entrance opened fire.  The wizard quickly set the bushes that were being used as cover ablaze and the sentries were dispatched in short order after that.

Upon entering the cave, three wolves were found to be chained up in a side room.  Deciding it was best to not get them riled up any further, the wizard and the warlock continued up around the corner and spied the goblin sentry on the bridge spanning the chasm.  The warlock blasted him and the wizard set fire to the bridge (there seems to be a recurring theme here…)  but the bastard was tough and still had the strength to run warn the others. A wall of water came rushing down through the cave and threatened to wash away the intruders but the group was steadfast and determined.  They held their ground against the roaring water and decided the wolves might be easier to deal with, after all.

Despite the cleric’s best efforts to simply soothe the beasts, the rogue was having none of it and killed the last of them anyway.  At the back of the wolf kennel, the wizard stealthily scaled the narrow natural chimney that was being used to dump garbage from the level above.  At the top, he spied a large, powerfully built furry humanoid creature with two wolves and more goblins.  He quietly descended back down the chimney and ran to rejoin the party.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group had already headed back out to the main corridor.  They were trying to be quiet but the paladin was spied by the persistent sentry that had returned to his post on the smoldering bridge and sent the signal for yet another wave of water to be issued down upon the interlopers.  Again, they held fast but by now every goblin in the cave was aware that intruders were on the premises!  Goblins came from the small western tunnel, both sides of the bridge, and from around the corner from where the floodwaters had issued.  Despite the rogue’s frequent stray shots with his newly mended bow and wild swings with his rapier, the spellcasters were able to dispatch most of the goblins just about as quickly as they could appear, yet their numbers seemed endless.  Every time one was downed another took his place.  A great number of them were felled by the cleric even though she was only attempting to wound.  With each “victory” Prutrix’s heart grew just a little bit heavier.  Her hands were meant to heal, and she was unsure just how much more killing she could bear, accidental or otherwise.  She knew she would need to pray to her god in earnest in the coming eve, should she survive the day.  

The party pushed their way deeper into the cave.  The paladin leading the way, wildly flailing first mace and then morning star as he moved ever forward.  While he rarely landed a fatal blow, he absorbed many a wound that would have felled his companions.  He was implacable, advancing hard and fast and he made effective use of the healing potion that had been discovered back at the ambush site.  The group struggled to keep pace with him while fighting off the goblins that seemed to pour from every tunnel.  The fighting was so wild that the goblins actually struck down two of their own number during the fray!  Finally, near the source of the floodwaters, battered and bruised, with the paladin’s morning star embedded in a stone column, the heroes stood victorious as the last of the cave’s inhabitants crumbled to the floor.  Or so they thought.

From deeper still, the wizard recognized the growling orders of Klarg telling his faithful companions Sticks and Stones to guard the stairs and protect him.  He shared this information with the group and described the appearance of Klarg.  He thought that maybe Klarg was a bugbear, which would be a fearsome foe, indeed, but he was uncertain as he only caught a glimpse of him from behind before he quickly dropped back down the chimney lest he be detected.

Some of the party members suggested a tactical retreat and others made the case to set up an ambush at one of the natural choke points of the cave.  Unfortunately, as the wizard moved forward to scout the enemies’ positions, the wolves spotted him and Klarg commanded Sticks to attack the dark elf. The ferocious beast leapt forward and bit at the wizard.  He was taken down quickly, even as Stones joined the fray.  Upon seeing the rogue finally hit something and slay his last remaining friend, Klarg flew into a rage and smashed his mace into the rogue, severely wounding poor Beckler.  A short but intense battle followed as the weary adventurers slew the mighty Klarg and then lost no time in searching his lair for Gundren, Sildar, and perhaps their own breath.  Unfortunately, all they found were provisions and supplies that had been bound for the Lionshield Coster in Phandalin.

Everyone decided this would be a good place to take a short rest.  Everyone except Dorin, that is.  The paladin rushed from the chamber and headed for the rickety burnt bridge, leaving his companions behind.  He was certain that Gundren was in the cave and in desperate need of his aid.  Dorin was willing to sacrifice all that he had to rescue the dwarf.  Protesting all the way and begging him to stop, the tattered group chased after him.

They finally came to the last chamber in the cave and found Sildar, near to death, being held prisoner by Yeemik.  This vicious little goblin wanted Klarg dead and offered to trade Sildar for proof of death. Unfortunately for the group, he was so terrified of Klarg that he wouldn’t even consider leaving this little safe haven of his until he saw proof that Klarg was dead.  No amount of coercion or deceit could convince him to go see for himself that they had already dispatched him.

Yeemik sent his last remaining companion with the warlock and the paladin to verify the truth of their words.  As they crossed the still smoking bridge, the warlock made a half-hearted attempt to push the goblin off but did not succeed.  She managed to play it off as being clumsy, but the goblin was clearly uneasy.  Upon entering the flood chamber, he saw the dead body of his brother and anger gripped every fiber of his being.  Suddenly, he noticed how many other dead goblins were lying around.  He raced back to warn Yeemik and the warlock and paladin gave chase.

His yelling alerted Yeemik and the rest of the group that something was wrong.  He was struck down just as he rounded the final corner to his destination.  Seeing him fall, Yeemik kicked Sildar off the ledge.  As the warrior plummeted to the hard stone floor below, Aratani struck the goblin with a mighty demonic spell and incinerated Yeemik where he stood.  The wizard nobly tried to save Sildar and was pinned beneath his body as the crumpled man landed atop Skit.  The last remnants of consciousness left Sildar’s beaten form as the wizard crawled out from beneath him.  Fearing his death, some of the party members immediately retrieved medicine kits and stabilized Sildar.

Looking around the room, it seemed to be a combination of sleeping quarters and what passed for a cooking space for the goblins.  The group decided it would be a perfect place for a rest.  There was only one way in and there were fires already burning for warmth and making meals.  Exhaustion took over the party as they settled in for some hard-earned downtime.

[ecotone99]

[FN] The Will of the Heart: Chapter 1

Achilleus stared wide eyed at the man with black cat ears and the man with curly red hair that stood among the crowd behind him. Both them and the others within the crowd were shocked and astonished by what just happened.

It was currently the change from spring to summer in Oles, a massive continent with four kingdoms that sat across the sea from the Heart of the World. It was tradition in the Eastern Kingdom on the first week of summer to try to unsheathe the sword that was held by The Traveler who established Oles’ kingdoms some two hundred years ago.

Bournemouth laid just outside the castle and its walls; the town was home to the week long festival was that held there since the death of The Traveler. Hundreds of people from the neighboring kingdoms and from across the Soaring Sea came to Bournemouth to prove that they were worthy of wielding the legendary sword. The town was adorned with streamers and wires that hung lanterns from them which ran from building to building across from the streets. A large statue depicting The Traveler in his hood with his face hidden in the market square was decorated with flowers and lantern to honor him. Music played for hours on end while games were played and food was served. Most merchants thrived in having the festival and right at the foot of the statue was where the sword laid on a table set up by the royal family. The festival celebrated the welcoming of the warm season as well as to honor The Traveler.

Achilleus was a farmer who took bounty hunter jobs on his days off for the extra money. He lived within the Southern Kingdom in the countryside not too far from the Eastern border. His skin was tanned dark from the hours of intense labor out in the sun within his fields which made him look older than a man in his mid twenties. He was, by nature, a tough man for being born in the countryside and working as farmer since the job was not easy. The brunette hated being the center of attention especially when it concerned him and the unsheathed sword that belonged to The Traveler that he held. He never would have thought to try to take the sword out of its sheathe if were not for his two best friends Chaz and Milo.

Chaz had the black cat ears and the glowing mischievous golden eyes; one of the many forms of the human-animal hybrids that appeared two hundred years ago along with The Traveler. Being the middle child of five sisters and the constant look of mischief within his eyes gave him more than enough reasons to join the bounty hunting business with his boyfriend Milo. The two worked together only as a pair until they met Achilleus, who joined them often for the thrill and money. He had a method of capturing those with bounties in an unusual or prank-like way that only failed half of the time he used those plans. Along with his love for causing overall chaos, he never shied away from making bets or challenging his friends.

He had bet one hundred coins on the legendary sword saying that Achilleus would not be able to get it out of its sheathe. The bet was impossible to beat yet Achilleus’ pride and empty wallet said otherwise.

“Alright, but if that sword comes out of that sheathe you owe me those coins,” he declared before walking up to the sword making Milo, the man with the red curly hair, roll his eyes.

The crowd that circled around the table had human and half-humans alike who would step up to the table to try to release the sword while the guards at the two ends of the table watched on. People would cheer for whoever was at the table to help them get the sword out so they could see the beauty of it, yet no one had ever succeeded.

He was able to block out their cheers while he rolled up his sleeves except for Chaz who was the loudest of all of the people in the crowd.

“You ain’t gonna be able to open it!” He yelled with his hand cupped around his mouth while Milo shook his head disapprovingly.

He said nothing back as he took the sword in his hands and studied the decorative sheathe. The green vine like patterns reminded him of the forests around from his childhood farm and the brown backing gave him a sense of nostalgia. He wrapped his calloused hand around the leather bound hilt of the sword and took a deep breath while bracing his muscles for the strength he was going to have to use. With one tug however, the sword clicked and the blade slipped out of its home like butter to gleam in the afternoon sun.

Now Achilleus stood in the center of the crowd staring in disbelief at his best friends while everyone stared at him in silence. Even the two guards who had been watching the participants with smug amusement were awestruck by his feat.

The long double edged blade shimmered in the golden rays of the sun that graced it with its warmth it had not felt in centuries. The shine gave it an ethereal glow that captivated everyone’s eyes.

Achilleus looked to the guards for answers as he stood there in disbelief, thinking that maybe this was a trick they were playing, but both the man and the woman stood there withe the same dumbstruck face as everyone else did. His stomach sunk as he realized that this was not just a trick and that he had actually pulled the legendary sword from its sheathe.

The crowd, after a moment of shock, rushed for Achilleus and barely gave him enough time to cover the sword again so it would not hurt anyone as it was ripped from his grasp. He was pushed roughly away into the crowd that now looked more like a riot as they desperately tried to reopen it

If it were not for Chaz and Milo to catch him he would have fallen on the ground and laid there still in shock with the sun in his eyes. The three of them watched as a few more guards joined the other two as they tried to stop the riot from breaking the sword or harming others around them.

“Guess I owe ya a hundred,” Chaz chuckled nervously but Achilleus did not reply and only stared on at the crowd.

It was not until the King’s Guards rode up to the riot, along with the King himself, that the crowd dispersed and left the sword laying on the ground alone. The King of the East was an old man who wore a bushy white beard that went past his chest; different from the young burly King of the South that three were used to. The heavy set king looked down at the crowd with fierce eyes from on top of his white stallion that dared those around to move.

The King’s Guards, women warriors from the sister Western Kingdom, hopped off of their horses and approached the sword that laid along the brick ground. The one whose skin was a beautiful dark brown handed her halberd to the other guard before gently picking up the sword and holding it as if it were made of glass. She ran her finger tip across the sheathe and looked over the sword carefully before walking over to the king.

“It’s unharmed, your Majesty.” She presented it form him to take and once the sword was within his possession he glared at the two guards who were overseeing the event.

“What happened?” He demanded with a booming voice that made them jump and stand at attention.

“Your Highness,” the man began nervously, “Someone was able to unsheathe the sword.”

The woman guard looked around and pointed her finger at Achilleus who was tying to sneak away from the commotion along with his friends. “It was him!”

Everyone looked from her to him causing him to freeze in his spot and swallow hard as the king ushered his horse to stand in front of him.

The King held out the sword for the farmer to take with the fierce look still in his green eyes.

“Take hold of the hilt and show me.”

Not wanting to refuse the order from a king, Achilleus took hold of the hilt and pulled out the sword just as he had moments before.

The two King’s Guards quietly gasped at the sword and the crowd again looked on with amazement while he held the sword weakly in his hand.

“Sagol, Urule,” the king called to his guards as he gave Achilleus the sheathe. “Escort this man safely to the castle.” He ordered before slapping the reins against his horse and rode it towards his home.

Sagol and Urule rode up to Achilleus as he sheathed the sword once more and gave him a look of doubt. They beckoned him to follow them as they rode their horses on either side of him while he walked towards the castle.

Achilleus glanced back at his friends who nervously shrugged back at him while those in the market square watched on in wonder at what he had down to be escorted the castle by the king’s personal guards.

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[bastardtravel]

November 9, 2017. Athens, Greece.

They hid the Acropolis.

I don’t know what they stand to gain from it. I think maybe the only way they could convince people to go through the Plaka. Apparently, it’s a beautiful, idyllic village, and one of the oldest towns in the world. It seemed to me like a whole lot of lame graffiti and narrow alleys full of outgoing grifters with friendship bracelets, all of whom happened to love my Barcelona shirt and sought to vocalize that.

The Plaka is a labyrinth that might wind up saving me the trip to Crete, and what few signs exist are in Greek. I asked a tiny goth girl on the corner if this was the way to the Acropolis. Her eyes got big for a second, but then she realized I was not trying to beg for money, give her friendship bracelets, or sell her drugs, and she became very helpful.

“All roads lead to Acropolis,” she said in some of the best English I’d heard out of a local, “But I think that one over there is easiest.”

“I’ll take easiest,” I said, and did. It’s possible she was a grifter plant, and by easiest she meant “most dense with people calling you MY FRIEND, giving you garbage bracelets, explaining how hungry they are, and inviting you to an African dance festival in the square”, but unfortunate dentristy aside, she was too cute for that to be her job. She could’ve been a waitress, at very least. Especially in America. Goth chain restaurant food service workers are the sultry, emotionally damaged specters that haunt every young man’s dreams.

I wove through the Plaka uphill, up stairs, up more hills, more stairs, small cafe owners giving me shady looks as I cut through the stairs that they somehow set up tables and chairs on. When I finally got to the top, I discovered all of the humans.

I later found out there’s an Acropolis metro stop, which is probably how all these fat old Americans beat me to the top. No one’s more confused by my aversion to obvious tourists than I am, considering it’s usually pretty obvious I’m a tourist, especially in Europe. I’m a foot and a half taller and 50 – 100 lbs heavier than everyone except the Nords, and none of them even lift. I think part of their socialism is they all decide on one guy who lifts for Scandinavia, and that guy is The Mountain.

All these little purple-lipstick hobbit women keep looking at me like I escaped a genetic engineering lab, and the international perception of Americans can’t be helping. From what I’ve gleaned in drunken hostel conversations, most Europeans and Australians seem to think America is a post-apocalyptic spaghetti western where we’re all looting in all the major cities and open-carrying AR-15s in case President Immortan Joe sends his death squad drones to Build the Wall.

As I approached the Acropolis, a one-eyed man on a Segway wearing a laminated SEGWAY TOURS sign cruised up to me and said, “You goin’ to the Acropolis?”

“Yes indeed,” I said without eye contact. I don’t want a Segway. This is a goddamn pilgrimage. You think I came around the world to irreconcilably demonstrate to Athena that I’m a li’l bitch?

“Well, you better hurry,” he said in an unexpected show of non-hustling candor. “It’s closing in an hour.”

“I thought it was open til 8.”

“They changed the hours. They start kickin’ people out at 4:40.”

Well, it was 4, so it was go time. I thanked him and charged up the hill, dodging around enormous Asian tour groups and lines of geriatric Central Americans walking 5 abreast to make sure no one could get past them. Everyone was shouting, all the time, forever.

I swung off the path a few times because it was easier to just climb the rocks than navigate the teeming sea of human vermin, paid the 10 Euro to get in, and climbed up toward the Acropolis proper.

You know in spy movies when there’s a laser grid the protagonist has to cross, so they do gymnastics and cartwheels to avoid hitting any of them? Imagine that, but with cameras and selfie sticks. No matter where you went, you were photobombing somebody, and still, they were screaming. Everyone was screaming so much at the silent hilltop archaeology temple, and making faces for the cameras like they’re in a cheap photo booth, and forcing me to hate them.

The Old Temple of Athena was devoted to Athena Hygieia, which pertained to health and medicine. This was probably my favorite part.

The olive tree planted on the west side of the Erectheion symbolized the original olive tree that built the world as we know it.

In the ancient days, Athens was already booming, but it wasn’t called Athens. King Cecrops almost single-handedly dragged Greece into civilization, introducing ceremonial burial, marriage, and literacy to his society. It’s arguable that this was a mixed bag, but eh. After seeing all the thriving, he decided that what the city really needed was more thriving and issued an open invite to the gods to have one become the city’s protector and patron. Immediately, Athena and Poseidon both laid their claim.

Athena suggested to King Cecrops that a contest be held, and he be the judge. Now, Cecrops must have been shitting bricks, because every time the gods hold a contest someone gets turned into a cow or raped by a goose or something, but you can’t tell Athena “that’s a terrible idea” because then you will definitely be getting flayed alive every day for the rest of eternity, so the king said, “Yeah, totally. Let’s do that.”

Poseidon had it all figured out. He knew what Athens needed. He stabbed the earth with his trident and brought a flood right up to the edge of the city. The people had water, now! Poseidon brought water, what a surprise! It was really practical and convenient, right up until they discovered it was seawater and drinking it would kill them.

We can assume that Athena shook her head in disgust before presenting Cecrops with the olive tree, or rather, seeds to it.

“Plant this and wait,” she said. “You’ll see.”

Seed they did, and see they did. Olive oil became a staple for everything in Greece, in ascending order of importance: fuel, wood, shelter, food, and lube. When the trees finally grew, Cecrops faced the music and declared Athena the winner, and they just kept building her temples after that. If you read up on the mythology, Poseidon got the shaft pretty often. Probably why he was always so salty (ha haaaaa).

The Odeon of Herodes Atticus. They still do performances here, unlike the Theater of Dionysius, which was far too ruined and roped off for me to sneak in and honor Diogenes’ memory by poopin’.

The plague of humanity was becoming too taxing. I was getting snippy. A dude’s just trying to honor his personal patron goddess. Did I yell in your church? Well, okay, a little outside of the Basilica in the Vatican, but that wasn’t on me. God started it.

I shimmied down a hiking path to get back to center city. On the way down, I saw a scrawny girl wearing boots with 6 inch heels, trying to navigate the slippery rocks and loose gravel that made up the entirety of the hill.

“Heels to the Acropolis, huh?” I asked her. Her boyfriend was not thrilled at my casually outgoing nature, and sneered a “Yuh” at me, as though he were the one wearing heels to the Acropolis.

“Bold choice.”

She giggled. He didn’t. I slunk back into Athens and went back to the hostel to spend happy hour writing. My Greek bartender friend tried to hit me up for that 4 Euro beer because happy hour didn’t start for another 3 minutes. I gave him a dark look and said I’d wait it out. When the clock rolled over, I got two smaller beers for also 4 Euros, but it was a net gain I could abide.

Outside on the terrace, I met four excitable Australian lads. We got drunk and compared cultures, and they taught me a lexicon of Aussie slang that I knew most of because of the internet. We were joined by a guy from Michigan whose accent was, to me, more pronounced than anyone else’s, and the Austrian tagger I mentioned yesterday. You can check out his work here.

“All right, mate, let’s hash this out,” they asked me. “How in the FUCK did Trump happen?”

“Bible belt, man,” I said. “The news you see coming out of America is all left-leaning media from metropolitan areas. New York, Boston, Philly, D.C., anywhere in California. The majority of America is middle America. Impoverished, living in the boonies, voting straight Conservative every time cuz “we gotta stop that therr abortion, mm-hmm”. The left is louder, but the right is definitely more prevalent. Not to mention, more likely to vote.”

“So, like, is it that bad? Is he really gonna build the wall?”

Me and the dude from Michigan both laughed.

“No, dude. There’s no wall happening.”

“He’s a joke,” the Michiganian said. “He just goes up there, and says things. But there are people behind him in the government that have to allow him to do these things, and they don’t.”

“Right, because they’re impossible and stupid,” I said.

“I think he just says things for attention. And that keeps getting him attention, so he keeps saying it.”

“So let’s get to the kangaroo thing,” I said. “Are they like deer?”

“They’re just like deer,” they said. “They’re everywhere, and all they do is jump in front of your car and fuck it up.”

“Yeah, that’s what deer are for.”

“Down in the bush, ya go shootin’ roos. Ya shoot a lot of things in Straya, actually. The ecosystem is wrecked from all the species the Europeans introduced, so if you shoot one of the poisonous toads and bring it to the municipal, they’ll give you 8 dollas.”

“Damn.”

We drank our drinks, then I said, “I saw an odd thing, the other night, allegedly pretty common in Australia. How prevalent are shoeys?”

Immediately, they all started screaming in joy like I just said the secret word on Peewee’s Playhouse.

We hit the streets, inhaled some 2 Euro gyros, and attempted to find a bar. Instead, we found a hookah bar that claimed it was 5 Euro a hookah, but was actually 5 Euro per person smoking a hookah. That, my friends, is how they getcha. They blasted reggaeton the entire time we were there, which kind of clashes with the intended ambiance of a hookah bar in my ever humble opinion, but nobody asked me.

After that, the impetuous Australians went to buy drugs from one of the shady grifters in the square. Apparently, friendship bracelets aren’t the only thing they’re selling. They picked up 6 gs of Grecian weed for 50 Euro, and then pledged to us that they’d meet us up on the roof terrace with it. It wasn’t going to make or break my night, but we gave them a half hour and they never showed. Ghosted. Too savage. But, you know what they say: Ozzie come, ozzie go.

Off to the rest of the sights. Talk soon.

Love,

The Bastard

  Athens: Sartre Was Right November 9, 2017. Athens, Greece. They hid the Acropolis. I don't know what they stand to gain from it.

[stardustandash]

Waiting on the Edge of the Abyss (chapter 2)

A Dragon Age Fanfic

Ëonwë Lavellan does not like the fade or tough decisions. Or, I can’t deal with Here Lies the Abyss so here’s a third option. 

Chapter two time!

Read Ëonwë’s first adventure

Read on Ao3

With one ear Dorian listened as Hawke rounded up the remaining Wardens, claiming leadership until such time as the Inquisition decided their fate. Alistair in turn announced that he would be leaving to inform the Wardens as Weisshaupt of the corruption in their ranks and the death of Warden-Commander Clarel. Dorian couldn't care less about the Maker-damned Wardens though, he was far more concerned about the limp body in the commander's arms.

Ëonwë's senses came back slowly. First, he was aware of the cloth beneath him. It was soft, but not the familiar softness of his own bed. There was the taste of elfroot in his mouth, a bright earthy note on his tongue.Then he was aware of the hand holding his own. The thumb gently stroking across his knuckles had familiar callouses. Dorian. He was then aware of the voices. Dorian's was there, murmuring in Tevene, but there were others as well. Was he still at Adamant? How long had he been asleep. The next thing Ëonwë became aware of was the pain. His leg hurt, and his side. Ëonwë would not be surprised if his skull was fractured judging by how it felt like a whole team of dwarves had been mining it from the inside out. His breath must have hitched from the pain, because Dorian broke off his quiet murmurs.

"Lavellan?" asked Dorian in a quiet voice.

Ëonwë tried to answer, but all that came out was a dry moan.

"Come on Amatus, open your eyes for me."

He said it so gently, Ëonwë had to try, just for him. It was an effort, but Ëonwë managed to force his sleep-crusted eyelids apart. Dorian was there, looking worried and ragged, though wearing clean robes. Some time must have passed then. Beyond Dorian Ëonwë could see healers, magical and mundane. This place was familiar, and it took Ëonwë's tired brain a few minutes to realize he was in Skyhold's infirmary.

"Lavellan?"

Dorian's question dragged Ëonwë's attention back to him. His mind felt like pea soup and it was hard to concentrate.

"Wa-water?" Ëonwë asked in a raspy voice.

His throat felt like the hot sands of the Western Approach had been poured down it. Dorian was quick to comply to his request, sliding one hand around Ëonwë's shoulders to help ease him upright enough to drink from the cup Dorian held to his lips. Creators did the movement make his side sting, but the water felt wonderful against his throat.

"Thank you," said Ëonwë.

"You should know I absolutely detest playing nursemaid," said Dorian, but without any of the usual bite. The sarcasm was lost behind the worry that tightened his eyes and deepened the lines around his mouth.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ëonwë let his gaze roll over Dorian again, assuring himself that the man was fine. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and bathed only once in that time, but there were no visible injuries.

"Did you know your library has remarkably little on early Tevinter history?" said Dorian.

Ëonwë only shrugged. Really, he hadn't had time to actually read anything other than reports in months.

"All these gifts to the Inquisition and the best they could do was the Malefica Imperia. Trite propaganda. But if you wanted twenty volumes on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, you need look no further."

"Critiquing every book in my library?" Ëonwë grinned. Of course Dorian would be upset that they only had books with the southerners views on his homeland.

"I wouldn't have to, if you could find some rebellious heretic archivist to join the cause."

"Are there rebellious archivists? Other than you that is."

"If Corypheus ever starts burning masterworks of literature I'm sure a few would pop up."

Ëonwë laughed a little at that, though stopped quickly as a flair of pain burst in his side.

"I think I saw something by Genitivi there," said Dorian, beginning to rise.

Something in the way Dorian said that made Ëonwë think that the mage was yelling at him for something other than the fact that his library was lacking.

"What is this really about, Dorian?"

Dorian sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"When we fell into that castle, into the Fade, I thought you were done for," Dorian couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice, and Ëonwë felt utter guilt at causing that sadness. "I don't know If I can forgive you for that moment."

Ëonwë reached for Dorian's hand.

"I'm here, I'm alive, aren't I?" Ëonwë tried to reassure Dorian.

But Dorian shook off Ëonwë's hand. His face was stony and his eyes burned with emotion.

"You sent me ahead, and then didn't follow. For a moment I was certain you wouldn't. I thought 'this is it, this is where I finally lose him forever'. And then you do stumble out of the Fade, and for a second everything is all right. But you had to go and ruin the moment by bleeding all over the damn courtyard and bring that feeling right back."

Ëonwë felt properly chastised. But it hadn't been his intention to scare Dorian. He'd just wanted to make sure everyone who he dragged into that mess managed to get out of it. Creators, Ëonwë felt his age for the first time in a long time. He'd been playing the Inquisitor for too long, forgetting he was not even properly the first of clan Lavellan, forgetting that he was only a few short moons past his twentieth winter. And here he was, not for the first time, lying injured in a shemlen infirmary with too many people waiting for him to get back up and make life changing decisions for them.

"I'm sorry," offered Ëonwë.

Dorian just leaned down to press a soft kiss to his temple before taking his leave. Ëonwë wasn't sure what to do with that. But then a healer came by with a potion that made everything hurt less and he slipped back into a dreamless sleep.

Before he'd managed to make his escape out of the infirmary, many of the inner circle had been by to visit. Solas had been very curious about the Fade, and asked questions until Ëonwë's head spun and he was chased out by a healer to let Ëonwë get some rest. Blackwall had come to give him an update on the Wardens, Sera had snuck him a berry tart, Krem had been by to thank him for bringing back Iron Bull, and Iron Bull had been surprisingly quiet though winked when Ëonwë asked after Dorian. Dorian hadn't been to see him since Ëonwë woke. Neither had his advisors, though Ëonwë suspected it was because they would prefer him to get a moment of rest before diving back into business. He was bored and frustrated by the fourth day, and despite the healers insisting he stay on bedrest for a little while longer, Ëonwë managed to convince one of them with his famed doe eyes that he was fine to walk around with a crutch. This saw him hobbling around Skyhold, taking stock of morale. Everyone was glad to see their Inquisitor out and about, though the atmosphere in the courtyard was sombre. Even the tavern seemed somewhat subdued, though Ëonwë only glanced in as he made his way to where he spied Cassandra slaughtering training dummies.

"I think he's dead, whoever he is," called Ëonwë.

Cassandra spun around, though lowered her blade.

"Inquisitor! Did the healers say you could be up?"

No, but Ëonwë wasn't about to admit it.

"I'm fine. I'm sure there's a whole host of people waiting to hear my report of what happened in the fade."

Ëonwë just wanted to get the whole nightmare over with so he could move past it, preferably on to mending things with Dorian. Cassandra gave him a knowing smile.

"Luckily for you, we just need to hear the part where you were alone. I'll call the others to the war room, meet us there in half an hour."

Ëonwë nodded.

"And Inquisitor, I am glad you made it back to us."

"Thank you," said Ëonwë.

Half an hour. Just enough time to sneak to the gardens. If he was lucky, he could even avoid being hounded by Mother Giselle. Chantry sermons after just seeing the strange apparition of the Divine? Not something Ëonwë really wanted.

The garden was quiet. Morrigan and her son were there, as usual. Morrigan seemed content to watch Kieran while he investigated the various plants Ëonwë had planted from the seeds he collected on his travels. Movement on the battlements caught his attention. It was Alistair, warden armour shining bright in the pale sunlight. He had something in his arms. Ëonwë watched as he approached Kieran. Morrigan said nothing, though she seemed ready to spring into action.

"Hello, Kieran isn't it?" Alistair greeted cheerfully.

"Yes. Oh! I know who you are."

"Really?" Alistair looked oddly eager, hopeful almost.

"Yes! Mother says you helped her friend slay the archdemon," said Kieran.

It was more excitement than Ëonwë had ever seen from the boy before, but Alistair seemed disappointed by the answer.

"That's right. Anyways, I have it on good authority that your birthday may be soon, and I came to give you this," said Alistair, holding up the basket, which Ëonwë could now see was covered in a wriggling cloth.

"For me?" Kieran took the basket, and gleefully ripped off the cloth to reveal an utterly adorable Mabari puppy.

The dog took one look at the boy, gave a happy bark, and decided that Kieran's face needed the best washing of his young life.

"She'll need a name you know. And don't forget, Mabari are smart, so you should teach her as many tricks as possible."

"Noya," said Kieran.

"What was that?" Alistair looked shocked.

"Noya, like the Hero of Ferelden. Mother talks about her all the time. She says that Noya was fierce and protective for a mage. I think those are good qualities for a Mabari too."

"Noya still is fierce and protective. I think it's a great name," Alistair said.

With that Kieran eagerly ran over to Morrigan to enthusiastically show her his new pet. Ëonwë made a mental note to ask about what had just happened later. For now he was needed in the war room.

The meeting wasn't all that bad. And Josephine, bless her heart, had gotten him a chair. None of them commented when he sank into it gingerly, very aware of all the aches, bruises, and healing wounds still covering his body. From there he launched into his story.

Ëonwë had sent Alistair and Hawke ahead. The rift was close, so close, and he needed to see them leave. But he also had to get past the nightmare as well. So he told the advisors, how he had gathered the magic, and released it, hoping to stun the creature long enough to get a decent head start to the rift. He didn't count on the creature being immune to the stunning effect of his lightning magic. As soon as he had tried to run the thing had sent one of its spiny limbs straight through his side. The monster had retracted it, thank the creators, but the force had knocked him to his knees. The next blow had been to his head. He had tried to fade-step away, but being in the fade and all, it hadn't exactly worked. From there things were fuzzy, and he told as much to the advisors. How he managed to get past the nightmare creature was beyond him.

"I think I owe it to luck that I'm standing here," finished Ëonwë.

"I only wonder, could it really have been Divine Justinia you saw in the fade?" Leliana had a distant look in her eyes.

"I don't think we'll ever know now," said Ëonwë. Truthfully, he thought it could have been the Divine, or what was left of her spirit, but it could have just as easily been another spirit, who, like Cole, had taken the shape of the person it had tried to comfort.

"Your safe now, and on the mend. That's all that matters. We can debate if it was truly the Divine or not at a later date. Inquisitor," Cullen nodded to him, and took his leave.

Ëonwë was grateful. He was feeling all kinds of tired. Barely concealing a groan, Ëonwë stood slowly from the chair, trying to stretch out his stiff limbs without aggravating his wounds. He turned to go, but before he could leave Leliana's voice stopped him.

"Inquisitor, I believe I have something for you."

Ëonwë turned. Leliana was holding a small leather pouch. She gave it to him and Ëonwë curiously peeked inside, wondering what it could be. Inside was the amulet. Dorian's amulet. His dratted lineage. Ëonwë had almost forgotten their row in the market and his subsequent words to one of Leliana's spies in Val Royeux.

"Thank you."

With the pouch weighing heavily in his pocket, Ëonwë retired to his room with a lot on his mind. One of the healers found him just after he'd managed to drift to sleep. Back to the infirmary he went, but not before stashing the pouch in one of the drawers in his desk.