ZFighter18

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-13 “Huh.” The noise around him seemed to hush, everything in the depot finding a quiet that was unknown to the place— at least to his ears. The grunting of the workers, the chatter of the hunters, and the clanking of the machinery; all of it found a way to qu

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-12 One blue eye cracked itself open and Finn McHale immediately regretted it, morning sunlight blinding in all its white-gold evil. Dust floated above him, illuminated through the glass of the balcony doors under a beam of that evil aimed right at him. …okay.

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-11B “...how loooong, Finn?” He turned a page, not even bothering to look up. “How loooooooooong?” He turned another page, ignoring the whisper-complaining in his ear that had been going on for a good twenty minutes now. Granted, he’d been ignoring her for abo

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-11A “SQUAWK!” Some days you just regretted waking up. “SQUAWK!” Some days you regretted even the concept of leaving your bed and that was a much more specific kind of regret; the kind that usually started up when his phone started buzzing on the low table and

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> NERD IN THE NORTH 7-5 “My granddaughter.” The room seemed to dance around him for a second, the words from Hoster’s lips mixing with the sweetness of incense and sick-person stench. My granddaughter. Greg knew a thing or two. Not entirely all that much, but at least a thing or t

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> NERD IN THE NORTH 7-4 It had been another servant who guided him back then, a younger messenger Robb had sent instead of an older man with a simple ‘Lord Tully asks for you’. A few months back, he hadn’t known enough about anywhere past the North to know which Lord Tully because

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> NERD IN THE NORTH 7-3 Two chairs stood empty along the table, Cersei’s eyes drifting to them still as none had thought to remove the pair yet. The Small Council sat where they did, Jaime beside the King as his Lord Commander, and the imp across from him entirely; all the while t

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> NERD IN THE NORTH 7-2 “Look at them.” His eyes remained on his balcony as rain drizzled against stone; damp patches threatening entry into his solar proper. The brazier at his side burned bright, incense thick enough to stifle the air inside and force another cough from his achi

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> NERD IN THE NORTH 7-1 “Who’s a good— good little abomination?” Both hands buried in fur as thick as mane, Greg scrubbed back and forth with a smile on his face. “Yeah, okay, it’s yoouuu. You’re my adorable little monster. A creation against God is what you are. I’m not sure you

…how old is that kid? He was aiming for sixteen, which sounded about right. Fifteen was possible, sure, but sixteen seemed to hit the spot a bit better. The bat in his hand definitely seemed like it was school property, the aluminum weapon looking worn in exactly that sort of ‘too many hands have be

The sky was really pretty in Kyoto this time of year, an undeniable part of a beautiful Japanese summer as the months moved into May. Unfortunately — “FINN!” — he wasn’t really able to enjoy it all that well right now. Mostly because the world had just gone stupid, blue sky and white clouds replacin

A thousand yen a page… Finn clicked his tongue, eyes firmly on the old man behind the counter as his machine beeped and whirred. You’re joking. Unfortunately, the konbini owner didn’t seem to believe in jokes. He also didn’t believe in fair prices either. This is freakin’ Suujin. Despite two weeks o

Great. Finn stepped over a shattered cinderblock, soles scraping against powder and grit as he glanced around. Perfect spot for a barbecue. “You are certain it’s here.” It wasn’t much of a question at all, really. No little uptick to the end that would have had him ready with an answer, serious or n

Chad the Barbarian… It felt like there was a joke somewhere in there. Unfortunately, he wasn’t too good at making them. No, that was more the wheelhouse of a specific red-haired idiot. Being honest, it was hard not to see what was funny there, but looking at the stop sign in his grip — a new notch i

Gold took the curve of Main Street slow and careful, his Cadillac obedient as ever. One hand on the wheel, the other took its rest across his thigh just bare inches from his cane. The wood might as well have been another limb at this point, yet what did he carry it for still? Habit. All of it, mere

Wet hair dripped down the back of her collar, Ruby biting back the urge to shake her hair like it was fur. A towel was also too much work so she’d already decided she wasn’t getting up to deal with it. Twenty minutes in the shower, standing under the water until the stuff in her hair and on her skin

What are you going to do, Emma? That same thought had been a constant in her head since she was old enough to even think and it had only gotten more common every single year. These last two weeks? It might as well have been playing on a loop. Exactly as long as she’d spent trudging through the trees

“...well, alright.” With all the crowing and celebration over and done with, now it was time for the messy part of the job. Messy-ish, at least. The actual fight was pretty harsh enough already, but it was dealing with the wet meat smearing thick grease and coagulated blood across the floor of the w

"—AAAAAAAAAAAA—!" Kyoto had gotten to hear the subtle sounds of his screaming the last few minutes, Finn serenading the streets he’d been getting dragged through for a solid four — maybe five? — five blocks now. Five sounded about right. And somewhere around block number two, his count had stopped b

Lunch had stretched late, nearing something closer to early dinner by the time the Kurose family finally sat down to eat. The television was still talking to itself from the next room, some host shouting over a laughing studio as Mother made one last trip from the kitchen and back over to the table.

「おはようございます。七時になりました。京都の朝、今朝は少し冷たい雨になっています。」 Japanese tore through the thin cotton of the covers in a quick clip of syllables, some guy talking about the weather. 「京都市内の気温は十五度、午後には雨も上がる見込みです。」 For some ungodly reason, the dickhead on the morning radio was cheerful about it too, way too loud and way t

THEN “Chad!” The smell of rubber soles on sun-baked asphalt was thick in the air, a seven-year old on the curb with summer sweat plastering blond hair to his forehead as he bawled his eyes out. Tears mixed with sweat, both cutting tracks through the dust on his face. Blue t-shirt bunched up in one h

Green-brown-green. Bark smeared past her shoulders, pine striping at the corner of her vision, the world tunneling and the ground rushing under her boots with all the speed she could muster on just two human legs. Every twenty steps, though, her hands wanted the dirt. To feel the ground under her pa

The whole of the Riverlands stunk like a wet dog on fire, and a sennight on the river road had yet to change that one bit. Yet, he’d stopped noticing past the second mill still burning, the smell easier on the nose than even a day in King’s Landing. The mud, however… Sandor could not ignore that nea

"Little bitch, ye—!” The insult fell through into a scream, all of it going past her as the axe came round. Bone stopped steel for a heartbeat, then the edge bit hard and nothing was left to hold it back. Ash-wood shuddered hard into Mya’s palm as the scream died to nothing with the ironborn himself

Mending would set the dish right, no? The thought came to him as he stared at the candle crooked in it, the wax at risk of running past the lip and onto the table. Before the hour was out, no doubt. Sam had already resolved twice to move it and had yet to move it even once. Mending would not set the

“They barred the door with seven blades, White cloaks proud in golden shade~” The string of a lute twanged loud, a short note sounding off against the end of the corridor leaning outside. He held his breath, spine and shoulders pressed back into cold stone as he did his best to pretend like he wasn’

Four hundred daggers of good quality. Two hundred one-handed swords of fine make, One hundred properly forged and finished greatswords. Each one of these were worth a lot of ‘coin’ and, by nature of being weapons, they meant a lot more when it came to danger. Five hundred pounds of iron on its own u

“Looo~oook! Listen! Hey! Listen!” The ball of white went round over the crown of Gwenna’s hair twice over, fast enough the light dragged with it; a glass-bright chime came back off the high ceiling and hit her again on the way down. “Yes, Vivi. I hear ye.” “Listen! There’s too much lye being used on

A sennight and little more. Nothing past nine days in the keep of her father and the red walls gave her little of the comfort she had hoped for upon arrival. Red as they had been, the same sandstone a girl of six had seen every day running the wallwalk with Lysa at her heels — and not a single stone

Water crawled higher from the growing depths around the geyser, long trails of water spreading further and farther. Foot by encroaching foot, fluid ate up the space of the cracked bowl; the lakebed with a lot more lake in it than just five minutes ago. At the very center right in front of the geyser

Laughter bounced off the baked ground, a high musical shriek from the fairy by the treeline blending in with the over-loud cackle from the pirate right in front of him. Red. It fell to the floor, dozens of copper-colored strands fluttering down over his face. Each one drifted lazily through the air,

Forest green and mud brown finally gave way to the ugly tan of dust and baked earth. All that travel had gotten them this far, just for this. A lake that wasn’t a lake. There was no other way to describe what opened in front of them as they broke the treeline and his red boots dug into the hard-pack

“My point is…” Emma’s sigh came loud over his shoulder as he kept working. “Even if we do get out of here…” Finn grunted. “When…” It was a when, not if. The finger trick was working and had been for a few solid minutes. That was the good news. “Fine. When we get out of here, we don’t even know which

Red. “Finn…” It roared tight and hard around his fist, a scream of Cursed Energy as he swung his hips and drove his armored right foot deep into loose mortar. “Spark…” Stone cracked beneath his pivot, the floor fissuring beneath his planted boot as Finn McHale swung out for all he was worth. “Strike

“Looks dead.” Two days. Two days of walking through rotting pine, stagnant ponds of black and air so thick it felt like trying to breathe through wet wool had put a new level of appreciation for this world into Finn McHale. Unfortunately, that level was below ground. The ‘Black Forest’ — another sec

The smell of cordite and cold concrete was the same in any range, no matter where or when. This one was no different despite its small size, and the stink of some Storybrooke mustiness underneath Chad had long stopped trying to place. Regardless of smell, the concussive snap of his P229 bounced off

“Finn, you sure you know where we’re going?” Blue eyes rolled behind half-lids as he kept himself moving, the mud sucking at the soles of his boots with a greedy sound that followed every single step. Roots the size of city bus tires were their own hazard, but at least those were obvious and rare. M

MAL IGNA AÏDOENOUS The Violet Shade The afterimage burned green into his retinas, the color a flickering flaming neon before those oversized letters dissolved into the green canopy above; nothing but the stinging scent of burnt sugar and lavender left behind. Finn didn’t blink or breathe, knees digg

The shop had never been so loud. So. So. So. Loud. That was her first thought, absurd and useless as it was the moment the first sharp crack split the air. Sound rebounded off the crowded walls of the once-peaceful pawnshop and Belle’s immediate stupid thought was that the first edition of Paradise

The giant in black didn’t look back at his sword, a grunt tearing free from him. He balled his hand into a leather-wrapped fist the size of a ham and threw a heavy blow. It landed hard; the sound of the short straight punch in Nymeria’s ribs enough to make Arya’s own chest ache. It was the wet thud

Hot salt flooded her throat with a wet crunch, the taste of it pooling on her tongue. Hooves beat against the moss, wetness of the morning splashed with red a final time before those legs went still against red-stained grass. Fangs dug deep again into ripped belly-fur, the horn-meat’s rib snapping a

“Fou!” The camp pot pinged out a thin rattle of metal against blackened stone, the fire choking on damp bark and wet pine needles that spat gray smoke right back into his eyes. “Fou!” He dragged a wooden spoon through thick broth, the pot filled and bubbling strong with all sorts of vegetables and h

Why? The Karstark sunburst sheared through the neck of a Winterfell spearman before Robb’s brain could even give thought to the word ‘traitor’. Robb’s boot slipped on a mound of wet intestines, the king falling to a knee atop the freezing muck. It was only fortune that had him hold the shield high,

We know how this ends. He did. His thumb slid over the bright blue jewel resting in the crossguard of his blade. Simple math. Not so simple to do, though. It wasn’t at all that Greg had bad feelings about it or wasn’t even all that hesitant to even do it in the first place — which was something he’d

The kicking continued, a full-body spasm that sent mud flying all around and threatened to tear off the man’s own shoulders as he kept going at it. It was almost impressive. Or, at least it would have been if it wasn’t so fucking terrying. Like watching a fish reject dry land, there was nothing huma

“Reckon we’ll see actual beds, m’lord?” Lobb jogged a half-step quicker to keep up with Greg’s longer stride, the other boy’s voice still the same pure gravel and dragged vowels with weeks of meandering travel doing little to change that. “God, I fuckin’ hope so, man… I.” Greg blinked at the thought

“Look at me.” It was no command. At least not in the way Joffrey commanded. From the boy, it might as well have been the most polite request ever uttered; perfumed with flowers and written with honey in the place of ink. Yet, the finger pointing at a servant who had just upended a silver pitcher pro

My city. The air from below tasted of copper and burning silk, Viserys breathing it in deep as the sweet smoke coated the back of his throat. A heady flavor on his tongue, it was one thick with the grease of burning rebels. The alabaster railing of the Magisterial palace balcony was cool beneath his

Heavy vellum folded over itself, parchment crumbling with a dry crunch as the words sat in his thoughts with an edge as sharp as the wax of the Myrish seal. Even as it left a jagged half-moon in the meat of his palm, all Aegon could do was let it bite. Myr bows to His Grace, Viserys Targaryen. The i