summary: just a little foot rub… or so you thought. peter parker reacts, and you notice everything.
warnings: playful tension, mild sexual tension, peter parker gets flustered. pure teasing, nothing explicit happens.
you stumbled through the door, every muscle screaming in protest, arms heavy and legs aching like lead. the mission had been relentless today, and all you could think about was shedding your armor, letting hot water wash away the tension, and collapsing into your bed.
your clothes hit the floor almost automatically as you closed the door to your room, one tired foot after the other padding toward the bathroom. the instant the water hit your skin, a long, shivering sigh escaped your lips. warm droplets ran over your face, down your neck, and the tension of the day began to unravel, little by little.
you tilted your head back, letting the water pelt your shoulders, washing off the grime and adrenaline, letting yourself feel just… everything at once—the fatigue, the ache, and a strange relief that this moment was yours alone.
after what felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat, you finally stepped out, wrapping a towel around yourself. the soft carpet beneath your feet felt heavenly, but every step reminded you just how badly your arches ached. sinking onto the bed, you groaned, pressing your palms into your feet. “ugh… i swear, my feet might actually detach from my legs at this rate,” you muttered.
peter, sitting on the edge of your bed with that guilty-but-cute grin he always managed to pull off, tilted his head. “i… uh… want me to help?” he asked quietly, voice careful, eyes flicking away like he was scared you’d say no. “rub… your feet or something?”
you arched an eyebrow, smirking at him. “oh? you’re volunteering for that? brave of you, parker.”
his ears pinked instantly, hands fidgeting slightly. “i-it’s fine… i mean, i can do it,” he stammered, leaning forward to take your feet gently in his hands.
the first few movements were tentative, careful, almost painfully so, but gradually his hands relaxed, pressing just enough to ease the tension in your arches. the room was quiet except for your soft sighs, the subtle hums of relief that slipped from your lips, and the faint scrape of the blanket under you.
and then… you noticed.
the faint outline of him shifting in his pants, subtle but there, undeniable. your lips curved into a teasing smile. “hm… parker?” you murmured, tilting your head as your toes wiggled slightly in his hands. “you… okay there?”
his face immediately went crimson, eyes darting to yours, then down, then quickly away. “i… uh… i’m fine,” he mumbled, voice cracking just slightly, hands still on your feet but a little stiff now.
you let out a quiet laugh, biting your lip to hide it, enjoying the tiny shift of tension in him. “oh? it’s nothing?” you teased softly, voice playful, low, deliberate. “because it sure looks like…” your gaze lingered, and you let the teasing hang in the air without saying more.
he swallowed hard, cheeks pink, fidgeting slightly, clearly embarrassed, but otherwise continuing like nothing was happening. the room was filled with unspoken tension, playful, intimate, entirely ridiculous—and entirely yours to enjoy.
you leaned back into the pillows with a soft, victorious smile, letting the warmth of the moment settle around you. peter tried to act normal, tried to focus on your feet, but you could feel every little reaction, and that made it all the more deliciously fun.
luna speaks!
ugh okay so this one kinda got away from me!!
peter parker being flustered and ridiculous was just too good to resist. i don’t know how he manages to be both chaotic and adorable at the same time, but here we are.
the little sighs, the teasing glances, the quiet tension… honestly, i could write about this all day and still not get bored.
hope you enjoyed this tiny peek into his ridiculousness as much as i loved writing it, and if you’re laughing at him as much as i am… well, then we’re on the same page. ;))
hope you’re doing okay today, and that peter’s chaos made your day a little lighter!
sending a little love through these words, because you’re here reading and that matters<3
IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS but finally back on my bullshit /pos
remaking an old tk doodle because it's good for the soul, buuuut also because making Aki cry is my favorite hobby lmao but hey, at least sometimes i make him cry the nice way.
"[H]e himself worked as a Scientology Auditor for several years in the Eighties and was a Director of a Scientologist’s property company ‘Centrepoint’ until 1999."
Jesus, The Gaiman thing is one massive onion, layer upon insidious layer.
TW, of course, as the headline states the sensitive subject
Tangled Webs - Chapter Seven (Dark! Peter Parker x Reader)
Dark Webs Masterlist | Tangled Webs Masterlist
Warnings: Angst, language, Topics of death and depression, PTSD, more angst, violence, a bit more fluff and smut than the last series (but not in this chapter)? Somewhat ignoring the MCU timeline due to mature content
Word Count: 4825
Summary: After doing your best to walk on eggshells around Peter, you finally reach the boiling point as you and him face (most) of your drama head on…
A/N: It’s been a hot minute but I’m back with an update. Hope ya’ll didn’t forget about this series like I did lmao. I hope you like this chapter and give me some sweet words because I missed it so much! DM me to be tagged and I hope you guys like it!! Please like and share if you can! (Also I found this .gif on google, so if you made it, or know who did, let me know and I will credit!) Thank you xx -N
You barely slept the last few days as you trapped yourself in your apartment in Stark Tower since the incident. You were sick, with no possible form of treatment and to boot, you almost were found out by Peter about what you were doing. Two things you weren’t sure how to deal with just yet. But you knew one thing for sure, you couldn’t take much more of these secrets.
Not being able to see Peter or talk to him was killing you. And with you and him broken up, it only made it harder. You were always independent, especially when Peter and you stopped being friends. You made your own money, solved your own problems, you even saved Peter a handful of times. So it wasn’t so much that you were one of those girls who needed Peter to constantly save you; but you were a team. And everything you did together made the both of you even stronger. That was one of the reasons why Peter and you worked so well.
But with Peter gone, and you struggling with your own issues; you could feel yourself getting weaker and weaker. The lethal combination with Octavious and your disorder mixed along with probably the worst of it all; you were missing Peter and heartbroken over him being gone. And the worst part was that you didn’t even blame him for pulling away. You definitely deserved it after hiding everything from him. You just wished that even if you did tell him the truth, that it would be enough.
But how could it be enough?
Pushing yourself out of bed, you used whatever strength you could muster up so early in the morning. You needed to conserve that and your energy for when Octavious called on you these days, which would only make you even weaker in the process. You would laugh at the irony, but you were too tired to.
You didn’t want to think about your death but given recent events; it popped up in your mind pretty frequently these days. You didn’t want to think so morbidly and always tried to remain positive but how could you not when your body was literally at war and the venom that saved your life was also potentially killing you? Death was inevitable for you now, and you were looking at it right in its eye.
Of course, Peter was always one of your first concerns. You saw how when you started spiraling out of control affected him; how upset he would be, or how Peter would blame himself for his actions. It killed you to think what he would say or do when you weren’t there to keep him grounded and remind him that there was nothing he could have done. That it wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t blame or punish himself; and that finding somebody responsible was a waste of time.
You wanted to tell Peter to prepare him, to get the grieving out of the way if he could and enjoy whatever time you had left with Peter. But now, you weren’t even sure if you and Peter were going to make amends, and that scared you more. Would he even care about your health now? As much as you wanted him to, you knew Peter should focus on himself anyway. So you couldn’t help but think that maybe if he didn’t know, it would be best for everyone.
Snapping yourself out of your dark thoughts for a moment, you heard your coffeemaker go off. Grabbing your mug and bringing it to your lips, you stopped as you felt something run through your body as you stared at the front door. Somebody was coming to the door. Morgan had school and no way was Agent Kent knocking on your door after you made him look like an idiot in front of half of S.H.I.E.L.D.
You hurried to the door, hearing the door handle begin to jiggle and opened it. Your eyes widened as you looked at Peter standing in the doorway wearing a navy blue hoodie and jeans. His soft brown curls tousled and all over the place as his tired and now bloodshot eyes were staring back you bewilderedly.
“Hi,” you spoke out in a tired voice. Clearing your throat as you opened the door. The first time you actually saw Peter. The last time you saw him was at the ATM, unbeknownst to Peter that you were the one who knocked him into the window, leaving him to explain that to S.H.I.E.LD and Kent how he still hadn’t caught you. Again.
“I...uh...how did you know I was here? I didn’t knock?” Peter questioned as he looked at you. He knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. Nine days and eleven hours, Peter was counting his days a lot lately. It had been nine days and eleven hours, but it felt like it had been years dragged out of him. And now, he didn’t know what to say.
You looked different to him for some reason, and he couldn’t figure out why. He used to love seeing you in the morning with a fresh face as you made coffee wearing one of his old school hoodies. But this morning, you looked like a different person to him. Tired, pale, almost like you were getting sick.
Letting Peter in, you cleared your throat again, “I heard footsteps,” you answered to try and tip toe around the subject. You looked at the coffee on the counter as you ran your fingers nervously through your hair, “Coffee?” you offered him, not sure what to say to him. You never thought you’d see the day where you and Peter had nothing to say to one another.
Peter shook his head, “No, thank you. I just came to pick up some things,” he admitted, pressing his lips into a line as he showed you the duffel bag in his hand. Was he really about to pack his belongings and move out? Granted, it was just a few floors up; but how long was he planning on staying up there? Another week? A month? Forever? He didn’t like any of those options at all. But he knew he had to do it for now to protect you and most importantly; to protect you from finding out that Peter started drinking again. He knew if you found out, it would only trigger you more. And it was just the two times, he was hoping he could get himself to a meeting before anybody else found out.
He headed into the bedroom towards the closet, placing his bag on the chair nearby and unzipping it. He wasn’t really even looking at what he was taking, just grabbing whatever he could and began stuffing it into his bag. It felt like he was almost saying goodbye, and it wasn’t what he wanted to do at all.
Peter had been dreading coming here for days but he needed fresh clothes and truth be told, he wanted to check in on you. He had missed you these last few days and you always calmed him down no matter what you were going through. But he was worried about you too. And as much as he wanted to be there for you while you dealt with your demons, he also knew his demons were at bay and he couldn’t be around so much chaos right now. For his own sake.
“So...” you started to say a bit awkwardly, leaning up against the door frame as you stared downward towards the ends of your hair, “I think I may have a name for the guy you put away from the ATM. I was going to try and research a bit today,” you offered him what little intel you had. Especially since you couldn’t say much without mentioning Dr. Octavious, that would only connect Quentin Beck to you and you knew Peter would get killed if he knew too much.
Licking his lips as he jammed some sweatshirts into his bag, Peter nodded slowly, “Just be careful, okay?” he finally said as he kept his eyes on his bags, almost as if he was afraid to look at you otherwise he didn’t know what he would do. If he did, he’d probably stay longer, “Can’t trust many people right now,” he said a bit lower.
Yeah, like me, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly. All you could do was nod your head as you tucked your hair behind your hair nervously. You couldn’t do this anymore. The hiding and lying. You were building so much inside of you and it was only making you feel worse, mentally and physically. You couldn’t afford to lose Peter, not now.
Moving a bit closer to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “P-Peter, I-I have to tell you something,” you stammered, feeling your voice grow weaker as you felt the lump grow swollen in your throat. You were terrified of this moment, and you were more afraid because Octavious was listening in, as always. And if he was, then you didn’t have much time at all to tell him.
Peter’s brow furrowed as he turned his head to face you. He saw the distraught expression on your face and knew something was wrong. He knew you were hiding something from him and it was literally tearing the both of you apart, “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked you as calmly and rationally as he could.
You sucked in a sharp breath as tears began to prick your eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like your legs were about to collapse at any moment. Your bottom lip quivered the more you stared into Peter’s big eyes, trying to find your voice in the silence that was deafening between you both.
“I really fucked up. I…” you trailed off as you began to cry, the tears streaming down your cheeks more now, “I was so stupid and now it’s worse. So much worse, Peter,” you told him through your sobs.
“What? What’s worse, Y/N?” Peter asked as he raised his eyebrow. He was afraid of what you were hiding, but he hated the fact that you were hiding it more than anything. Whatever it was, it was big enough for you to decide that it would freak Peter out; and that bothered him the most. That you thought he couldn’t handle whatever it was you were going through.
You sniffled as you stared down at the floor, unable to even look at Peter right now as you tried to relax your breath, “Last summer...when I…” you could barely get a word out between your sobs, “At the game,” you finally got out.
“The game?” Peter questioned, his eyebrow quirking up as you looked at you suspiciously, “The Yankee game? With the elemental?” he asked for clarification.
Shaking your head frantically, you grabbed Peter’s arms to pull him closer, “That’s just it, Peter. It wasn’t an elemental! Don’t you find it strange you didn’t find anything that night? You came home empty handed,” you explained, your voice becoming more and more hysterical.
“Y/N, what are you saying?” Peter asked again, trying to figure out what it was you were trying to tell him. You had so many secrets these days, Peter knew that. And he couldn’t tell if this was a secret, or was it a bender? “Do you know what was responsible for it?” he tried again, trying his best to keep his tone level. He hated seeing you so upset and he didn’t want to make you any more upset than you clearly already were.
You nodded your head, “Okay, I know I sound absolutely crazy right now but I-”
You felt a pull on your throat, making you gasp. It felt as if your breath was taken away, like somebody just punched you right in your windpipe, preventing you from speaking. Wheezing out your breath, you saw Peter’s face waiting for you to answer. But you couldn’t utter a word.
Octavious, you thought to yourself.
He was listening in now, and controlling you. Preventing you from telling Peter the truth about what was wrong with you. Octavious wanted Peter dead and risking this conversation was enough, but you really needed to tell Peter what was going on. In hopes that maybe it wasn’t too late, for you or him; and some of these horrific events could be prevented.
And once again, you were frozen now. Blocked from telling Peter the truth and unable to help him find Octavious and get to him before he got to Peter. Or before you got to Peter. You were capable of so much these days, it frightened you to no end. And without Peter helping you control it, you were damned.
“What do you know?” Peter asked again, getting a little bit closer. He tried taking a whiff of your breath, but he couldn’t smell anything. His senses weren’t triggered, but he knew what a bender looked like. He’d hit bottom before. Granted his bottom looked a lot worse, he could still sense it from a mile away.
You tried to open your mouth but nothing came out. Tell him about the venom, you shouted at yourself. Tell him about Octavious, and the robberies. Tell him it was killing you and destroying you from the inside out. Tell Peter you needed his help.
With tears streaming down your cheeks, you shook your head at him as you tried to speak; but nothing came out once more. You hated this. You were so close to being free just to be silenced once again. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. It was becoming more and more obvious how much you needed Peter’s help, and he couldn’t give you anything if you were being controlled by Ock.
“I will have you rip out his throat if you so much as whimper in his direction right now, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice threatened you inside of your head, and you felt your stomach beginning to churn once more. You always tried to fight back, but in this moment, you were truly terrified of something happening to Peter. So you didn’t.
Looking down at the floor, you focused on Peter’s sneakers as you shook your head at him. Biting your lip to restrain yourself from saying anything further so Peter wouldn’t get hurt. You could tell he was disappointed in you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.
Peter sighed, running a hand over his face as he licked his lips, “Y/N, I know you’re going through a bad time right now. I’ve been there, and it kills me seeing you going down this path that I never wanted you to go down,” he had to stop himself for a minute, saying it out loud to you hurt him even more. He hated that this was the reality of your relationship, “I am so worried about you, I am. And you know I want to be there for you, and I’m trying to be. But you have to tell me what you need first,” his voice became rugged and raspy the longer he spoke, knowing he couldn’t say much else at that point.
He leaned forward, bringing his lips to the top of your head before he reached down and grabbed his bag on the floor. Taking a few steps towards the door before he looked at you one last time standing in the doorway, still staring down at the floor holding back your tears. And Peter was trying to do the same.
“I’ll be training all day and then I’m crashing with Kent if you need me for anything,” he finally told you, seeing you nod your head slightly before he turned and walked out of the front door.
The door shut behind Peter, and you collapsed to the floor. Sobbing to yourself as you grabbed a hold of the necklace Peter had given you, clutching onto the spiderweb pendant for dear life. You always told Peter everything. And now you didn’t even know who this person was anymore.
“We’re striking big tonight, Y/N,” Octavious’ voice ran through your mind as you tightened your grip on your necklace, “Rest up for it…”
--------
No matter what Peter did, he couldn’t shake the look you had on your face as he geared himself for his night. The look of pure terror on your face replayed over and over again in his mind as he got his suit on. His speech still fresh on his tongue while he pulled his mask over his head; wishing maybe he hadn’t been so harsh. The sound of your cries he overhead from the other side of the door when he left repeated while Peter initiated KAREN. He wished he hadn’t heard it, it nearly made him crumble, but he did.
Peter was in no condition to go out tonight. He had a lot on his mind with you, and the robberies, and how so many people were depending on him and he couldn’t deliver what they needed. And with the pressure coming from Agent Kent, Peter was really beginning to feel all the weight on his shoulders. And it was taking everything in him not to take another drink.
“I’ve got a good feeling we’ll get her tonight,” Kent said enthusiastically as he entered the room. He took a seat behind a computer chair as he gave Peter an all knowing smile, “She seems to be favoring the downtown area, and so far the museums are the only places she hasn’t hit yet. The Air and Space Museum is the only one that would have tech she may be after.”
“What makes you think she’s after tech? So far she’s only stolen money from bodegas or ATMs,” Peter gave Kent a puzzled face, did he know something that Peter didn’t? And if so, why wasn’t Kent giving him this information that was important?
Kent shrugged his shoulders as he adjusted his glasses on his face while focusing on the computer screen, “They’re always after more than just money, Peter. You of all people should know that,” he reminded Peter as he continued to pull some maps up on the screen.
“If you say so,” Peter said as he adjusted his web mode, making sure everything was working properly. You were usually the one who made sure his suit was updated, fixing Dark Web mode, and even making sure KAREN was properly synched up. There was always something calming about having you by his side before he went out as Spider-Man; even if it was just a basic patrol. You always calmed him down and made him feel like he was doing the right thing. Now, he was beginning to doubt all of that lately.
Peter’s eyes flickered to the counter top, focusing in on the bottle of Jack Daniels that was left behind from the other night. When he was planning on dumping the remaining liquid down the drain this morning before he went to see you. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He needed something to numb the pain, at least for the moment.
Without Kent noticing, Peter took a few swigs of the whiskey as he felt the warmth slide down his throat. It felt so wrong, and he knew it. And now, he felt absolutely disgusted with himself. Months of hard work and strength just flushed down the drain for a few sips to only make him feel more miserable for it. And now he had to find this robber half sober, half buzzed.
Peter went over to the window, staring down at all of the city lights as the lump in his throat grew bigger. The city suddenly looked smaller to him, as his eyes grew bigger through the mask. Your face coming back to his mind as he tried to shake it off once more, but he was beginning to find it nearly impossible.
“Don’t be afraid to use your advanced modes on her, Pete,” Kent said from the computer before he swung away, “That’s why you have them, to get rid of people like her,” he narrowed his eyes on Peter knowingly.
So, Kent wanted Peter to kill this masked woman, essentially. Although Peter wasn’t exactly new to that idea, he had his history of killing and it got him here. He knew there were other ways to get justice, even if it took longer. But Kent was messing with his mind, and he was beginning to think he may not have any other option.
Nodding his head, Peter aimed his web shooter for the nearby lamppost down below as he swung out of Stark Tower. The moment he left, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved to get out of there. Even if it was to keep vigil.
Peter swung his way in no time to the museum. Everything seemed quiet in the city streets, making him feel a bit more at ease. He scanned the entrance, noticing no security to be found; which was oddly peculiar for a museum. Lights were on throughout the exhibits, and as Peter glanced up towards the camera, he noticed they were destroyed.
“Someone is here,” Peter said into his microphone, knowing Kent was listening in. He moved in towards the nearby exhibit for space missile technology, “Karen, activate Dark Web mode,” he whispered slowly as he felt the black webbing beginning to coat his suit before he went into the illuminated room to investigate. It was a little dramatic to go dark to see, but based on how strong this new rival was, Peter wasn’t about to take any chances with them.
Peter tiptoed his way towards the doorway, knowing he was invisible, but he still needed to proceed with caution. He peered into the doorway, frozen in the moment as he watched meticulously. Unbeknownst to his new friend that he was watching her every move. Making sure this time he would be ready to take her down.
The alcohol was swirling around Peter’s brain as he continued to concentrate. He hadn’t drank in so long, those few swigs that he had already affected him.
“Don’t overthink this, Peter,” Kent’s voice came through, “Remember what I told you, don’t be afraid to fully attack with this one.”
Peter had no idea why Agent Kent was so adamant about him being so cut throat. He knew the rules, and if Peter had to get more aggressive, he would. But right now, there was no reason to go the extreme. Especially since he knew how he felt towards getting his hand bloody. It led him down dark paths that he knew he didn’t want to go down again.
Feeling a bit dizzy, Peter pulled himself together as he took a few more steps forward. Watching her try and disconnect what seemed to be a missile on display from the exhibit area. What the hell was she trying to do with a missile, Peter thought to himself.
He got his web shooter ready, prepared to stun her for a moment with his taser web. Before he could aim in her direction, he felt a force punch him directly in his chest. His back hitting the wall with a thud as he whimpered. Opening his eyes as he saw her turning her head back to the missile, moving her hands even faster.
How did she even know he was there? There was no way she would have been able to even hear him unless…
...Unless if she had a spider sense too.
“Alright, that does it,” Peter huffed out as he picked himself up. He kept the Dark Web mode on as he whipped around so he was directly behind her, “I’ve just about had it with you and I’m done being nice about it,” he announced as he kicked the inside of her knee, buckling her to the ground.
Grabbing her by the arm, he heard her yelp as he twisted it a bit, “Deactivate Dark Web mode and turn off all communication,” he told Karen as he picked her up and shoved her against the wall as his suit came into vision once again. He didn’t need Kent in his ear right now. Not when he was this close to bringing her in and being done with this bullshit.
With her chest against the wall, he swiveled around. Looking into her eyes through her black mask as he raised her arm over her head. She had no weapons. And her eyes looked almost terrified. Her breathing was heavy as she kept her eyes on Peter warily.
“Who do you work for?” he tried to ask, leaning forward. His body pushed flush against hers as he had her literally backed into a corner with nowhere to go. His hand began to slide around her neck, squeezing in a little bit to threaten her in order to start talking, “You better start talking otherwise I will not hesitate right now,” he threatened through his teeth.
Peter squeezed a little more, hearing her groan as he waited for her to answer. He blinked as something bright glimmered along her neck, getting his attention. Adjusting his eyes, he glanced down at the necklace and squinted at her collar. The pendant staring back at him as his eyes rapidly fluttered back to her intense masked eyes; feeling his stomach drop.
“No,” Peter said in a low voice as he grabbed the pendant, “Y/N?” he asked.
And in that weak moment, you kicked Peter in the chest to break free. Sending him backwards and completely bewildered by what the fuck was happening…
[Part One, Part Three]
[Writing Music: https://youtu.be/JN_rpw9Yzwc
CW: Violence, Combat, Blood, Death, Implied Maiming]
If the message had come from anyone else and in any other way Aya would have been suspicious of it. But the old protocol and codes were drilled into the Xaela’s head even after being away from the Doman Resistance the past few years. The handwriting was undeniable too, the well known quirks of brush standing out against the plain paper.
It confirmed what little he’d found out about Melody’s kidnapper and then some, everything he needed to get justice, no vengeance was held in his hand. The only downside? No time. He’d have to leave in, eyes darted up to the clock beside Aya on the wall, two hours to do it safely.
No time.
But when would he get a chance like this again?
Never.
A heavy sigh escaped the Xaela, eyes scanning the letter once more, mouth moving as he committed the words to memory. What he whispered didn’t match what was on the paper, not entirely, a conversation about coffee prices in Kugane holding much more value than that.
Two hours. No time to question, only time to trust and go.
“One more time Hibiki, one more time.”
---------------------------------------
It was strange, hunting alone. Years of having the luxury of someone nearby to help watch, fight, protect made Aya acutely aware of the solitary silence that he waited in. Never alone though, heart aware of the warmth of gold that he carried with him on every step to this point.
Gold that would guide him home no matter that happened tonight.
Fatigue was already pulling at him though, once he could have crouched here all night without having to stifle a single yawn. Time and stress had taken its toll on the Xaela though, body whittled down to muscle and sinew in an unhealthy way, keen reflexes dulled by the grind of a constant lack of sleep. Gloved fingers carefully slide into the pouch on his hip, drawing out a grass packet. A quick tear of teeth and the packet is opened so Aya could pour the powder into his mouth. It took time for him to swallow all the grit, not daring further movement to get water to wash it down.
The ma huang hit like a dzo kick to the chest, Aya’s eyes watering from the sudden sharpness everything abruptly took on. Too long since he’s used this too, a strained adrenal system being forced into high gear whether it wanted to or not.
One more price to add to the list of debts he’s been steadily racking up.
Discipline served him well as he waited in the shadow of the trees near Baelsar's Wall, riding the adrenaline wave with no outlet for it. The guard that had been turning a blind eye to the ‘Elezen’ that was traveling over the Wall was dealt with. The corpse that was slowly draining blood out into the hollow of a tree wasn’t going to cause Aya any problems now.
Thoughts in the present and drifting to the past, too many reminders of a hunt much like this one to keep perfect focus on the now. The screams of a woman being ignored in favor of the hunt, brown eyes that didn’t stay brown but kept switching to a haunted, fearful violet urging him to hunt, to kill. Patience he told the eyes, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it of the screams that echoed in the sterile, metal room.
He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to move but knowing he cannot. Not yet. Then the warmth of gold chased away the screams, leaving only the Fire of his Heart behind. The past retreated back to where it belonged, but the bloodshot violet eyes lingered, held close by Gold and Song alike.
Never alone.
No, not even here.
It made the waiting easier, kept Aya from sliding into the past, though it did nothing to abate the rage that chilled the air around him as he knelt as still as stone. The full moon rose high in the sky above the watchful Xaela, shards of silver filtering through the leafy canopy made the shadows dance from the wind that tickled the dry and dying leaves. It almost masked the sound of footsteps passing by, but keen horns picked up the difference between wind and man, Aya’s head slowly turning to follow the sound.
Two, as expected. Hibuki said that he always kept a guard with him in full magitek armor. That would make things more difficult, but not impossible. Careful, he had a promise to keep and a call to home that could not be ignored. Yet...
Eyes closed again and Aya took a deep, silent breath and let it out just as slow. Another, and another until the promise of home faded from his mind. It was a distraction the Warrior could ill afford now that the moment was here. There was only one reason for him to be here, Jovian must die. Thoughts focused on the goal, holding nothing else close even as dark and bright eyes watched and yearned for vengeance for their pain.
The booted feet past, one step far heavier than the other despite the skill of the one wearing the armor. Trying to be discrete, but not entirely silent, there was no need after all. The dead guard was paid off, the patrols known and memorized so that they would pass when no other was here, unseen from one place to the next.
No one except a xaela with a thirst for blood. A few more heartbeats and Aya slipped out of his hiding place, wind that was scented faintly with sweet grasses sending the crisp leaves dotting the forest floor scattering about. A distraction and cover for the sounds he made as he sprinted forward. One strike. It was all he needed.
Instinct had Jovian turning towards his impending death, but the slim spy wasn’t Aya’s first target. A sweep of his katana through the air before he was within striking distance sent three, dark edged, aether blades cutting through the air. All three slammed into the back of the armored man with Jovian, piercing the metal shell and sending the guard sprawling out face first on the forest floor.
The sound of a shot echoed through the trees, covering the sound of metal rending metal as the helmeted head was separated from the armored shoulders, skidding off to thump against a tree in a macabre parody of a child ball being kicked across the ground. Jovian’s aim was true, the bullet opening a hole in armor and the flesh of Aya’s thigh.
The force of the blow had the Xaela staggering backwards, breath catching in his lungs from the spike of pain, giving Jovian time to get off another shot. This shot was aimed higher, Aya just barely avoided the projectile that tore a large hole at chest height in the tree behind him. No words were spoken between the two, no posturing or accusations joined the sound of another bullet leaving Jovian’s gun that impacted wood and not flesh.
The cover worked in Aya’s favor when he was hiding, but it worked against him now. Shots rang out whenever the Xaela tried to get closer to his target, driving him back behind a tree and getting no closer to the spy. The dance between them was led by Jovian, traveling along the path of his choice, leading to escape.
The barrage of shots kept Aya pinned behind the trees as the two fought, trying to finish the deadly gambit before the Wood Wailers could interfere. Time was running out as quickly as the blood was traveling down the Xaela’s leg. Already he was slowing, the ma haung only able to do so much to keep Aya on his feet.
“No time.”, he whispered, pressing up against the tree he was standing behind and going still once more. If he could get around him, between him and the small airship waiting, Aya could force the issue, but if this kept up his quarry was going to escape scott free.
No TiME, No tiME, NO tImE, No TIME!
It was a gamble, and an insane one, but he was running out of options too quickly. A deep breath, a drawing of aether and a glove pulled off so claws could dig lightly into flesh. Blood welled up around the claws and then Aya dove and rolled out from behind the tree that he was using as cover. A staccato of sounds occurred all at once. The whoosh of quickly growing flame as the flicked blood droplets turned into individual balls of fire. Each one streaking through the air in Jovian’s direction in a flare of light against the darkness. The crackle wasn’t loud enough to cover the thump of bullets into the ground, then the oddly wet and metallic sound of one impacting Aya as he got to his feet and bolted to the next tree.
Pain flared down his arm, white-hot and numbing all at once, fingers twitching uselessly from the sensation. It wasn’t his left arm, katana still firmly held by that hand as he kept moving, but slower now, doing his best to not make a sound of pain and keep his ragged breathing under control. Shadows flickered around the Xaela as he moved and the few haphazard shots that followed weren’t aimed in his direction. Soon enough the airship was spotted, hidden by brush and tall trees that were perfect for hiding behind.
Picking one that would likely have Jovian pass by it, Aya leaned against the massive oak, reaching into the pouch on his back to quaff a healing potion in hopes it would keep him on his feet long enough to finish this. A crack of a branch, not close enough to do Aya any good, but closer than before. The warm steppes wind flicked out in that direction, seeking, only to find nothing, the warning to wait whispering in Aya’s horns. A deep breath, pushing away the feeling of a clock ticking down to nothing, the frantic beeps flashing red and green within his memory.
Instinct knew more than the mind, the Warrior’s blade flashing dark edged in the light of Chaand’s smile as it cut cleanly through the tree between Aya and Jovian. The tip of the blade appeared with a wet, sickening sound as it slid through wood and flesh with deceptive ease. The edge a glinting red just above the tall spy’s sternum like an odd jewel hanging from a necklace. With a grunt Aya pulled the blade back out of the tree, the thud of a body hitting the leaf covered ground letting him know that he struck true.
It was over. Now, now, he could remember who he was and go home.
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Morning dawned bright the next day, the elementals rumbling in anger and discontent. The Wood Wailers were the first to arrive, following the path of destruction to the mangled and desecrated corpse at the base of one of the taller oak trees in the woods. The untouched third eye and the hidden airship weren’t the cause of the scouts' unease, three pairs of eyes drawn to the dying tree. Veins of black ran through every leaf left on spreading branches turning the once vibrant red and orange leaves grimly unsettling. It was clear that the taint originated at the large, crumbling hole about shoulder height in the center of the trunk. A wound that slowly grew as they watched, consuming the tree from within.
Once the shock wore off, the hushed speculation started as they dealt with the airship and waited for the Hearer to show up. A new Garlean weapon? Or was this the Black Rose they heard whispers about from the front? Surely that was just a rumor, wasn’t it?
