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Chronicles of Arashi

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Summary: AU story of Riddick finding his long-lost love. And the chaos that can bring. Crossover with Chronicles of Riddick (Pitch Black) and Yu-Gi-Oh.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anime > Yu-Gi-Oh!
Movies > Pitch Black Series
IdaliaFR1823,883042,3035 Aug 065 Aug 06No

Prologue and Finding

Title: Chronicles of Arashi
Authors: Idalia and Wingleader Sora Jade (WSJ can be found on pommedesang.com, and fanfiction.net; I can be found here!)
Rating: It’s gonna get pretty graphic later so I’d advise at least over 18
Warnings: Language, Rape, Violence, Sex, Slash
Disclaimer: It is not mine, never will be mine and isn’t WSJ’s in any part of it. We don’t own Pitch Black or Yu-Gi-Oh at all. Kay?
AN: This was originally done as a Round Robin, so give me a bit to make sure it makes sense. If it doesn’t make sense TELL ME. I can’t read your mind, so all I know is from you guys. It was also written for WSJ’s and my enjoyment when we were really bored, so stuff the flames. Constructive criticism is very much welcome, flames will be stuffed. Those are not productive to anyone, including you.
And this is a major AU fic, so bare with me for the explainy parts. If it doesn’t make sense, please once again, tell me so that I can fix it.
AN2: Give me at least four chapters to give you all of the background, please. This will take me a bit to lay out without going nuts i the process. Thanks agian.

~*~

Prologue: Innocents

I have been wandering this planet for untold years, always seeking my Mate and never finding her. I haven’t yet. Even in this din of people, their smells mixing with alcohol and drugs, I can tell that my mate is not here. That I must keep going. That I must move on.

Four older men leave, and on an impulse, I follow them. My black cloak blows in the breeze as I walk silently after them, moving from shadow to shadow to avoid being seen. Not that I am afraid, more of a habit than anything else. Paranoia I guess, but that is what happens to an assassin. They get really, really paranoid.

A soft crying sound gets my attention, and before long the men ahead here it as well. A small girl, perhaps four years of age, sits in a darkened corner, apparently lost and alone. She has black hair so dark that in the light it has a faint blue highlights and the sides of her face are framed in hot pink strands. Innocence in a small, frightened form. So small, not even to my knee. And she looks smaller as she lays curled on her side in the dirt, mud, and grime of the back-way alley. Completely oblivious in her terror.

A small gasp as lavender eyes raise, tell that she has sensed our entrance and felt our eyes. Interesting that one so small could do that. She should not be able to do such a thing until later, if ever. Is she perhaps my Mate? But no, even at such an age, her scent is wrong. At any age, I would know. Unfortunately, the other men do not agree with me.

My silver eyes blink as I watch them circle around the small girl and croon to her, calling her pet names to draw her out from under the metal staircase she has hidden under. My eyes narrow as she slowly creeps out to their beckons and is quickly seized. A scream of pure terror is cut off as a large hand covers her mouth and I spring into action. No one will ever harm a child when I can prevent it.

Two die instantly as their heads roll away by the siv in my hand. The third by a paperclip I found on the ground as I rolled to prevent blood splatter to my face, but the fourth was not so smart. He had taken the girl and pulled her around so that she was a shield between him and me. Her frightened lavender eyes stare at me, pleading with me to help her. I am coming, little one. “Let her go and I will spare you.” My voice growls out as I give an ultimatum, low enough to vibrate through the bones and fingers of her captor.

My soon to be dead victim shakes his head violently, “She’s mine!” His own voice was clear, but a high squeak. Fear. And good reason to be.

Idiot. I simply take my right hand and hit him as my left grabs the girl. His momentum takes the blow into the brick wall behind him and through it to the room beyond. There was no way he would survive; though it would take him at least six hours to do so. Even the hospitals couldn’t save him if they had the best neurosurgeon on the planet.

I gather the frightened Japanese girl into my arms and began to croon gently, leading her away from the horror of an alleyway. Hopefully a forgotten memory by morning. “What is your name little one?” I ask of her in the local dialect.

“Hana-chan.” She answers, sniffing softly in fear. “Wha’s oo name?”

I think for a moment, wondering how my name would translate. Finally I settle on storm. My real name I would leave behind. It was only a name anyway. “Arashi, my name is Arashi.” At least to one small child, I could be a storm instead of a maelstrom. Riddick was gone for at least one.

“Dank oo, ‘Ashi-‘ama.” I start out of revelry a the name enters my brain. Sama? I am not a god! But I suppose to a four year old in a traumatic situation that the title is appropriate. I can live with it.

~*~

Chapter One: Finding

Two Years Later

The club was dark like most clubs of its kind, red and green and blue lights dancing around the patrons like the strobes of passion they were intending to imitate. A dominance and submission club. Not my type at all…more of Tori’s when he gets that way he does every now and again, but my Mate is here tonight. Or is going to be here by the smell of it. He visits often enough that some of the club’s scent had mingled to include his own. He will be here tonight, like every other night this week while I watch him give his virginity, his purity, to someone else over and over again. While I watch in agony for the right moment to ask if he will let me be his, that he will let me protect him as a Mate should. That he will accept me.

I always thought my Mate would be female. Why shouldn’t I think that? But in the quietness of this town, I had smelled my Mate. And he was definantly absent a few distinct attributes of a female and had some that the females didn’t. Not that I mind, I don’t, but it was just surprising. I couldn’t have ask for a better person though. He is generous, thoughtful. Kind, a healer and a light in the darkness of my heart and soul. As I will be to him in this dark time of his life.

I can smell it on his skin, in the way he moves and dresses, the very air he breathes is filled with sadness and the scarcity of true undefined grief. He grieved like none I have ever seen…and he comes to these clubs to act on that grief, to feel something other than the bleakness and emotionless heap he has become. Even if it is pain, it is better than nothing at all. At least, that is the way Tori explains it.

A cheer reaches my ears as the patrons scream in joy as their local favorites, the Brothers Grimm, arrive and walk in. The one in front, My Mate, was the shorter of the two, his long hair streaked in purple and black and done up in elaborate curls and lacquered chopsticks. He swayed in tight-heeled boots, hips well-defined under tight black leather pants. A shimmering silver tank top hid most of his torso. His eyes were bright, obviously interested in anyone who could give him a good time for the night. But only one-night stands. Never anything more. He was almost known for it.

Behind him walked his older brother, face impassive as always. His hair was much shorter, cut in curls around his ears. He was wearing simple black slacks and soft-soled shoes, and a blue shirt that flowed around his frame and left much to be desired. He was the polar opposite of his brother and obviously not looking for a partner. He never was.

In every bar they were like this, one impassive, protecting the other. The other, flamboyant and completely unrestrained in anything he did. But it was time for that to change. I can’t handle it anymore. I have to have him tonight. I will not watch as he will once again give to another what is rightfully mind. I will not!

Il eave the sanctity of my dark corner and flow effortlessly to them, hiding completely under my coweled black robe. Knowing he would follow, my hand snakes out to gesture a come-hither before I turn and travel to one of the back rooms, not looking back. I can sense his momentary indecision and then his acceptance, his smell drifting stronger as he comes closer, intrigued.

I smile as I catch the disappointment of several patrons being waved off, promises of later that night. Not if I have my way…

I left the door open for he and his brother, thought I knew the older would not intrude unless he thought the younger was in any danger. I knew he would be guarding the outside of the door even as I shut it in his face to step away and light a candle for my Mate. I certainly don’t need it. And strangely, neither did he. He was blind. I knew that but it was a small solace to the little comfort I could give him in the dark.

His eyes were bright in the light, with lust. But not love, the passion I want. Just lust.

My candle flame revealed the large round bed in the middle of the room, piled with red, scarlet, rouge, and crimson pillows. Silk sheets of pure black to blend with any blood that might be spilled completed the picture. The four poster bed the image of seductive grace and beauty with a snake hiding in the shadows.

And me. I knew how I looked in the candlelight. Tall, nearly 6’5”, muscular, and bald. But it was by choice. You could see that clearly as I swept off my cloak to reveal the lightly tanned skin beneath it and my shadowed head that showed where brown hair would grow given the chance. Pure dominance. I would never let anyone dominate me. Except my Mate, and then only if he asked. It is just my way.

He didn’t seem to mind though, eyes glinting as he readily came forward, already reaching down to unlace the ties on his tight leather pants. There is something different about this man, some grace and beauty not in most. I wonder if it is because he is my Mate, or because of something not yet named?

I just look at him and watch as his pants fall away, getting to his knees on the bed to crouch and wait. I come to him easily, noiselessly as I always do and hold out my huge hand above him, waiting to be rejected or accepted. My breath is held as he makes the most important decision in his life. In our lives.

If he accepts this, then he is mine, now and forever. If he doesn’t I have to walk away and never approach him again. It is forbidden and will always be like this. So my silver eyes watch anxiously, without it being noticed, as he slowly blinks and cocks his head.

Then he reaches out and grasps my hand.

I feel so much joy I could sing to the heavens, but I don’t. I can’t sing worth crap and it would probably scare my Mate anyway. My hand just gently clenches his and brings it to my mouth, my eyes never leaving his as I kiss it chastely, sealing the bond. Soft and filled with the promises of the future, of the night that was destined to be first in a long line of lovemaking in the darkness.

But I am surprised as he speaks for the first time and yanks his hand away as if I had burned him. “N-No. No romantic, idealist shit. Fuck me so we can get out of here.”

I freeze. Fuck him? Fuck him?! I don’t want to fuck him, I want to love him. Cherish him with all of my being, to nurture him for all our lives and to claim him as my own. I do the only thing I can think of in that moment. I sweep back tot the candle, place back on my robe and blow it out before moving to the door and gliding soundlessly back to the crowd of people. If I didn’t get away and quickly, I would probably do something I would regret later immensely.

But I can’t leave, even though I ache to go and hit something, and am still close enough to hear the brother say, “That was fast even for you Tenshi.”

My Mate scowls and pushes past him to find himself a partner for the night, one to satisfy his lusts, his desires, as I can not.
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