Imagine Eric’s reaction after you accidentally break his nose while sparring for the initiates.
Warning: Violence and language (the usual really), It’s a little long oops
“Alright people lets go, we’re getting started.” You called out attracting the attention of the initiates that milled around the training room. This early in the morning they were all like zombies, looking around blankly still half asleep.
They all listened to your instructions and gathered in front of you Four, Tris, and Eric who were also in charge of training the initiates. Well, Four and Tris were, Eric made it every clear he was only here because Max was making him. Although you knew that helping mold the imitates into Dauntless was secretly one of his favorite parts of his job, not that he would ever admit it.
All of yesterday you had the initiates do nothing but run and work on punching bags and honestly it was all a little pitiful.
“Today the four of us are going to show you proper fighting techniques. Trust me when I say that you all need it, some of you can’t hit a punching bag properly, god knows what you will do when faced with an actually opponent.” They all squirmed under your criticism and Eric laughed behind you.
You continued to ramble on for a few more minutes and a few dumb questions from the kids later, Four and Tris were standing in the middle of the ring. You pointed out to the initiates watching the stances and punches they were using as they fought, explaining how Tris used her lean figure to her advantage and Four used his height. They separated on their own terms after a few more swings and then Four stepped down and was replaced by Eric.
It was almost laughable as you took in the size difference between the two and when they started fighting you could tell he was restraining himself to not accidently knocking her on her ass. You had not a single doubt that if they were actually fighting, instead of throwing staged hits, Eric would absolutely demolish her. They finished fighting and then Four went against Eric.
You had to warn the boys to take it down a few notches after Eric threw a particularly hard punch and busted Four’s lip. You separated them before it got too bad, rolling your eyes at how childish they were and then you took your turn against Four and then Tris.
Finally, it was your turn to face off against Eric. The two of you trained together all the time so you didn’t bat an eye at going against him, especially since it wasn’t an actual match.
His imposing size dwarfed your smaller figure and you frowned when you noticed his wicked smile.
“How about we give them a real show.” He whispered, smirking.
“Stick to the script Eric, I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the initiates.” You said back fiercely antagonizing him slightly.
“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” He said with a quirked eyebrow.
You raised your fist in response and he got the hint following suit. The two of you went through the motions of a fake match. Throw a hit, block, receive a hit, block, so on and so fourth, Four called out the different hits and blocks for the initiates with ease. You could see Eric getting a little antsy and so you aimed a little lower than he expected, nailing him in the stomach.
He paused for a second as he realized what you were trying to instigate and you took that moment to throw a punch to his uncovered face. He blocked you in time and before you knew it the two of you were sparring the way you usually do.
Four stopped calling the technics as he realized that the two of you where doing your own thing and he didn’t know what to expect.
You could hear murmuring from the initiates as they watched you and Eric dance across the mat, the two of you had trained for so long that you both knew what to expect from one another but that didn’t make it any less intense a fight. It also meant that the two of you worked tirelessly to one-up one another.
It was a moment of distraction as you tried to listen to what the initiates when saying when he sent a particularly hard punch that knocked you back a few steps. He took advantage of your lack of balance to send a few more hits to your stomach and chest, noticeably avoiding your face. You blocked a few in defense and wildly threw a punch at his face.
“Fuck.” He cursed as your fist hit his nose and you jumped back a few steps as he backed away clutching his face.
When he pulled his hand away you noticed the thin trail of blood and you instantly felt a little bad. You could tell Eric was pissed as he examined the blood on his fingertips. The kids behind you instantly hushed as they wait to see his reaction.
You underestimated how fast Eric could move and before you knew it he rushed up to you quickly and the two of you were instantly back into the fight. You just barely had the time to raise your fist and fight back before he was in your face.
A few more hits and kicks were exchanged and the two of you were obviously evenly matched for the most part. It was only as you as an opening as he was aiming once again for your torso that you hit at his face again.
You did a quick two-hit punch both fist aiming for his cheeks, but you must have misjudges your aim. You first fist connected with his cheek slowing him down and the second punch landed right on his nose again.
You heard the gruesome crack at that and he backed away from you quickly mimicking his motions before with his hand to his face. He cursed as he had his head tilted back and you cringed as you watched the blood pour down his face.
“Oh shit…” You said as you watched him, Four was laughing on the sidelines and everyone else looked unsure of how to react.
You and Eric had injured each other before when fighting. The two of you broke bones and left bruises all the time, hell he had broken your arm one time and in retaliation as soon as it healed you cracked three of his ribs. Your friendship was excessively violent but that was Eric’s nature and it tended to rub off on you.
“You broke my nose.” He mumbled still holding it.
“You were asking for it…” You bristled feeling slightly guilty.
You moved toward him and he watched you guardedly. You could hear Four, who was still laughing, calling everyone’s attention to give further instruction while the two of you were sorting out whatever was going on.
“Let me see.” You said batting his hands away, it was defiantly broken and you could already see bruises blooming around his eyes.
“Want me to set it back in place…” You said softly turning his head to the side. He was still pissed and you could tell he wanted to just say no but he finally broke and nodded slowly.
You put your hands in position and counted down from three. You shifted it back in place before you hit one and he let out a string of curses, yanking your hands away.
He took a second to compose himself, still not letting go of your wrist.
“I’m sorry…” You said accidently letting out a small giggle.
“It’s not funny.” He grumbled.
“Yeah, it is a little… what can I do to make it up to you? Wanna return the favor?” You said still laughing a little.
“No.” He said obviously thinking.
“Let me take you out to dinner.” He said finally not really asking, letting go of your wrist finally.
“I’m sorry what?” You asked checking to make sure that you heard him right.
“Let. Me. Take. You. Out.” He said slowly as if you were a small child.
“Asshole.” You mumbled and he raised a brow waiting for a response. “ I break your nose and you want to take me on a date?”
“Why not?” He said with a smirk.
“Bout time you asked, shame it took me beating the shit out of you for you to do it.” You laughed patting his cheek earning a wince in response. He grumbled something about his face hurting as you walked away.
“Walk it off Eric!” You called out, causing a few people to let out muffled laughs, as you made your way back to the group.
“And pick me up at eight.” You called quietly over your shoulder.
A/N: Like I said it’s a little long for an Imagine, I’m sorry I got excited then carried away. Anyways hope you enjoyed let me know what you thought!
Remus was a fragile human. When the stress of school and duty got too heavy a load his brain just shut down. He’d walk around the school like a zombie; half living, half dead, his hair a mess of curls, and his eyelids hanging heavy. His brain was utterly fried from the hours spent with his head shoved in his books. If he had been more aware of his surroundings maybe he would have noticed someone sit down next to him in the Great Hall. It wasn’t until they tapped his shoulder that he jumped out of his trance and looked over, “SHIT … s’rry. I didn’t realize you was sitting there. How… long have you been sitting there?”
“waking life” is such a trippy mind-bending movie. wrapped in blankets + just watched it. maybe we’re all dreaming right now. maybe this is all just a dream. maybe we’re reliving and watching our life again as an old person, maybe we are the universe witnessing itself and time is just an illusion… maybe this is all just a lucid dream, an individual + collective dream we are all creating together… it’s been proved + seen time and time again how we do create our reality with our words, our thoughts, our actions, our feelings, our emotions, our beliefs… and so many of us are just walking around like half-asleep zombies in the third rock from a star we named sun in a swirling milky galaxy within an infinite universe of infinite more possible altered paralel universes… what a trip to bere. being an human is quite the journey eh
Living the last year back in the city had been harder for the writer but he had been content in the anonymity the murky streets provided for a zombie like him, half dead as he dragged himself through the streets to work like every other man. But the isolation could almost be stifling and the monotony of his colourless life was taking its toll. Being lonely had always suited him, but when he was angry at the world he needed something to drown his empty nights.
So, after some long consideration, the unmarried mother decided it was time he was brave enough to hit the bar he used to go to; the streets getting quieter each month with fears of more attacks by the fizzle bomber or the jigsaw killer or whatever stupid named psychopath felt like blowing up the subway this week.
Taking off his cap as he sat at the bar, the small man kept to himself, ordering some whiskey and told the barkeep to leave the bottle there. Self-concious about his appearance and his strange voice which wasn’t all trained yet he lit up a cigarette in his shaking hands and looked across the bar as his drink was placed before him. Taking a drag, he looked at his drink with a sigh of smoke, shifting slightly as someone came to sit near him. Green eyes glancing across, he had to do a double take as he recognised the man next to him. He felt a burning in his chest, almost of despair at the sight of the orderly and quickly looked back at his drink, finishing the small glass in one before pouring another. David. He felt so ashamed, so guilty for leaving him. He had liked him, more than he should have done and he knew David liked him in the same way. Back then, when things were so much easier. Should he say something? Suddenly even more self-concious than before, he kept his head down and let the cigarette burn between his fingers.