#I should not be given the task to tag being tired

[sketchthetofu]

Desert Duo Week: Cooking & Baking

I am SOOO TIRED, I decided for some reason that noooo I can’t have a flat color background so guess who stays up later to scribble an actual background??? ME. Anyway I had many ideas for this prompt after already starting this one but it’s done :D!! How do I feel about it? idk :D!!

@desert-duo-week

[vomitspit2]

IN BLOOM. jade leech

He had not expected to see you at all during the duration of his birthday party. This, he was fine with. You are recovering after all and should remain in bed. Though, Jade supposes his act is not subtle by the way his twin keeps eyeing like watching a dog off a leash, making sure he won't run off.

tags: mild hurt/comfort, birthday bloom event, drinking & talking, established relationship, pre-canon to Got You.

word count: 2060

He is not being subtle, is he?

Too many physical clues have given his twin insight that he is not doing mentally well. He can pass off the fidgeting with the wooden shaft of his broom to nerves over flying. His dual-colored eyes flickering over to the lounge’s clock might just be him wanting to be out of the spotlight. All those little quirks can be shrouded by a false truth, but Floyd won’t believe a single one.

Jade preserves despite this inner schism between his twin and himself. The dialogue that Shrimpy’s a big girl and she doesn’t need ya coddlin’ her, Seven, you’re latchin’ on like some parasite, get a grip. Which would be fiercely combated by the dialogue that I’m her boyfriend which should put an end to discussion but probably wouldn’t.

So, neither of them discuss it because why fight on our birthday?

He gets through the interview and the broom-flying without a hitch. Even when he teethers himself a bit closer to the safety of the ground, he manages to do it all efficiently and effectively. Though all the stomach-knotting worry, it is an impossible task to stop the smile that cracks off his pursed lips when his twin tries to snatch his Birthday Bloom hat.

For the majority of this evening’s party, Jade has been biting his tongue to hold back excuses to leave. If he took a bathroom break, it would give him ample time to – at the very least – poke his head in his dorm room. Then, he thinks about how much that is a dog owner excusing themselves early from the party to let the mutt out; then, he thinks about those stout, pearly gray parasites from home; then, he thinks himself out of his idea.

He is fiddling – that is one of his more apparently anxious habits, always grasping at the nearest thing to twist or rub between his fingertips – with the white roses sitting elegantly in his broom’s bouquet when he sees what he was not expecting to see. Birthday gifts and surprises truly don’t stop coming until midnight? Because at the entrance, there you stand.

Kalim’s proclivity towards partying has never benefited or inconvenienced Jade much before. It might have caused a few stand-alone memories to pop, but nothing other than that. Right now however, there is a slight relief coursing through him due to Kalim leaving the party early to attend another.

Your attention will not be spread so thin. Because after you are done scanning the glittering decorations, your tired eyes fall upon him first with the crushing weight of acknowledgment and scrutiny.

You smile. It is tiny and disappears right when it flickered alive. Expression quietly somber, the uncharacteristic of it is quite jarring. None of the guests are even noticing you enter beyond himself and Floyd – who for the first time all night, finally turns away and stops watching him like he is a dog off a leash, about to sprint at the next opportunity.

When you land, you sit pressed leg to leg against one another. Despite how thick the robes are, indigo cotton like a shield, he feels the weight of you leaning against him like a fallen building most. Pressure under the Coral Sea is suffocating; the crude mimic of the sensation done by you is comforting.

“I’m not crashing the party, am I,” you ask into the pattern of golden swirling keys and crows on your boyfriend’s cloak. “Thought you guys would be done by now.”

“So did I. Truthfully, there is not much left to be done.” Which is why it has been frustrating that Floyd was not letting him escape.

“Whaaa,” you whisper softly, “no, you gotta party till you drop. There’s no other way to celebrate a birthday.”

“I see,” Jade tuts. He looks down at the crown of your hair resting by the corner where his magestone sits on his birthday uniform. “You don’t particularly look ready to get up and dance with me. How unfortunate.”

Like a feline, you rub your cheek deep into the dreamlike scene embodied on his outfit. The entire wardrobe line does look like these birthday boys were plucked from dark night skies. It would not be surreal to imagine you collapsing into him and falling asleep, like a meteor fizzling out on earth.

Instead, you murmur, “I just woke up from a nap. Give me a second.” Your hand reaches out and grabs Jade’s milkshake glass that is full of Boozy Blue. He watches through what isn’t blocked by your hair as you take the miniature umbrella he left on the edge and begin to twirl it in your fingertips. “You won’t be able to keep up.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No. Just a promise.” A cough splits apart the end of your sentence.

Deliberate, Jade points his focal attention towards the lounge. Only a few stragglers are left in the almost concluded birthday celebration. Even Azul has already retired so really this should close up soon. Gazing, Jade finds that Ortho Shroud is among the stragglers and he happens to be impolitely staring at the both of you.

A twitch passes over Jade’s upper lip. He surmised that he knows exactly what those traffic-yellow eyes are taking in, calculating the diameter and shape of the bruises left on your neck.

He goes to reach down, pet along the side of your face, and cover your neck from any peering audience when something hits his fingers. Your heartbeat … it’s pounding. Like a drum. So powerfully loud that it almost seems to disrupt the air around you. Is it not uncomfortable to sit upright like that when your heart is seizing up in premature cardiac arrest? He should rest you down further on the couch so you may relax until your heart stops trying to break out your ribcage.

Had you just woken up from a nightmare? Jade’s hand lands on your shoulder, sailing past the spot he was seeking to conceal. If he touches there, there is a rising probability that you might seize up.

He flexes his grip on your bicep and you lean deeper into his uniform, both of you trying to fuse into each other’s warm touch. Running his tongue over needle-pointed teeth, Jade asks after a quiet minute of cuddling, “May I ask that you fulfill a promise to me on my birthday?”

“Of course.” You stir to look up at him with witchcraft eyes. A jovial smile pulls your lips, ready to please, as you twist the little umbrella, guaranteeing, “Anything for the birthday boy.”

“Never. Never go into Ramshackle without me.”

Your lips fall flat. That thunderous heartbeat — that Jade can almost graze as it lies thin and delicate across every plain of your skin — skips a beat. “Jade —.”

“Please,” he tries to keep despair out of his voice but knows by how you flinch that it was inadequate. “Please, never go into Ramshackle again.” It feels selfish to ask a person with your disposition to be shackled or forbidden from a certain place, but it would ease his own pounding heart to never find you in such a state again.

After a moment of silence, you pull away from Jade and place down the umbrella. Your furrow brow makes him think you are going to leave, walk straight out of the party. Instead, you reach into your pajama pants pocket. “I promise, I won’t ever go into Ramshackle again. But, I had to go in there yesterday because I had to retrieve this.”

Between the gate of your index and middle finger, slightly obscured by your howlite ring, you hold up something slim and shiny. One could almost mistake it for a sturgeon scale and when Jade was younger than eighteen, he probably would have made that mistake. Now older, freshly turned twenty today, he knows that you are holding your lucky guitar pick in your hand — one of the three original possessions you have from your alien world.

“Why didn’t you —?”

“I didn’t think it would be right to ask you for your help. It’s my pick. It’s my problem. And I didn’t want —.”

“Nonsense.” Jade grasps the wrist holding your treasure and says firmly, “It would not have been a strife to go with you, I promise.”

You go huff with a closed lip smile. So it goes. Your head falls delicately and looping hair covers up the skin-deep necklace of plum and black that you wear. An insidious accessory.

The first thing you eat after waking up from your nap is a plum that has gone bad. Everyone has left the birthday longue, even Floyd who had ruffled your hair and told you that ya still owed him a birthday gift. You had smiled; now you are frowning while the feeling of wet, rotten curdles lying in your mouth upsets your taste buds.

You find a napkin and spit into it. The pattern of it matches the birthday outfits with their golden crows and golden keys and golden swirls. In the ribcage of your napkin sits a squishy heart of discolored yellow, half-chewed plum. The color reminds you of those science videos wheeled out of a rickety table, showing off pale yellow cholesterol in the veins and pale yellow puss seeping out infected eyes. A snail-trail of old salvia falls from the heart and glides over your palm.

Comatose, you stare at the bruised fruit cradled in the night-sky napkin before Jade pulls you out of your melancholy by setting down the tea you asked for.

Unsure why you were staring so vividly and tracing each rutting mound of half-chewed fruit, you fold the napkin over your rejected bite and inform your boyfriend, “The fruits gone bad. Did Azul forget to get rid of old stock?” You doubt he did but you are simply asking to fill up conversation space.

His eyes flicker curiously over to what you hold out to him: inners that are rotting in a slimy brownish, pale yellow. “Perhaps he did.”

Before you can get up to do it, Jade takes the plum from your hand and disposes of it in the nearby trash. He leaves you with your napkin; perhaps because he did not see you spit up instead of swallow your bite. You hold it in your hand, over the top of your knee, as wetness seeps through the thin cover of night.

“This should wash the taste out of your mouth,” Jade says, sitting down and pushing the tea he prepared towards you. He has already made sure it has cooled to the perfect temperature.

Meticulous, you think as you lift up the fragile chinaware. It washes through the bruises that have been left in the inner-workings of your throat like a heated river. “Thank you, baby.”

“It is no trouble.”

You squeeze the fruit-heart in your hand, just once for good luck. Truthfully, you don’t know if you will be able to sing again. Too terrified to try, you have been avoiding even humming to fill up silence, worried the tone might be off. Sacrificing your health had seemed natural when you went back into Ramshackle to gather the last belonging that you left behind.

Bowing your head, you sigh. The atmosphere, now that everyone is gone, is so serious. You loathe serious atmospheres and always hope the future has no more in store for you. Always, your hopes are dashed.

So, you try to switch the conversation, “Your flowers are pretty.” You’re curious if he picked them himself or something like the ‘Magical Pendulum’ or another inane sorting device chose them.

Jade glances at them just as you say. “You’re in bloom. Twenty is the cusp of adulthood.”

He smiles handsomely. “Such a notion makes it sound like my previous years had little significance.”

“Well, not like that. But you got internships coming up. Everything has to … turn serious, you know.”

“You must be loathing your next birthday.”

“Hey! I’m staying nineteen forever. I don’t know about you but I’m not ever coming out of my teens.” A chuckling rumble spread across your arm as Jade laughs at your quick nudge. His witch’s hat tilts with his mirth.

Both of you think — unbeknownst to the other half — things should stay like this. Immortal flowers that will never rot. Always in bloom.

[mamuzzy]

What is considered child mistreatment in Mandalorian culture (legends)?

I was inspired by this post but I didn't want to ruin a mood with my AcKcHuYaLlY vibes so I made a separate post about it.

While I agree with a sentiment of Cuy'val Dar should have rioted seeing children being mistreated, given they are a very heavily family and child centered culture, I've just recently read a few quotes from Republic Commando which made me wonder...

what is considered child mistreatment in their culture?

Because training children to be soldiers are not one. It is a perfectly normal thing to do for them.

What you will read here about: -- Potential reasons why the Cuy'val Dar didn't refuse the job -- Relationship of a Mando parent and their child: How Munin Skirata adopted Kal and with it giving him a predetermined path of life -- Little detour to the topic of how modernday parents don't include children in the household chores -- Pav-Ti and Ahsoka -- Walon Vau and Dred Priest's approach -- Kal Skirata's approach of training -- Little about Mandos and Jedi -- Sorry (not really), people. I still love Kal. -- I won't tag this as anti/pro/critical fandom fuckery. Only a Sith deaIs in absolutes.

Rest is under the cut.

Why would Cuy'val Dar accept such assignment in the first place?

So why didn't they say no? 1. Loyalty and Respect for Jango Fett 2. In need of money 3. Needed a place to hide 4. It could be HONOUR: If a mando bounty hunter accepts a job, they won't back down from it. That's why they are the best. A mandalorian either completes the job or they die in the process (see: Hard Contact). 5. Child soldiers are nothing out of place.

But the latter is debatable, depending on which bounty hunter you ask. Kal was horrified when he was presented with the facts. Scene from Triple Zero, where Kal realizes what Jango is expecting of him:

Jango Fett indeed didn't tell them the whole truth. I'm pretty sure there would have been people who would have accept it anyway. But I'm also sure most of them were conned this way.

We even know Kal's reason of accepting the job.

He didn't have any outside ties anymore that required his physical presence, so at this point he could just accept a decade long assignment.

And when he met the Nulls, he gave himself a purpose out of this nightmare. Raising these children as Mandalorians.

But where this is come from? From Kal's own buir.

Another quote about how Munin adopted Kal.

Awfully practical people. But also, compassionate. Kal is guided by the same compassion as his buir.

Overprotected children of our modern age

Family centric and child centric views are really distorted today which is about overprotecting kids from literally everything. Even from basic household chores: a parent who is too tired and impatient for their child constantly making mistakes during learning a task, so they simply take it out from the child's hand and doing it instead, because teaching them comes with much more mess to clean up, therefor more work for the parent. Children won't learn that helping out around the house can be a quality time with the parent, because most parents don't consider being together with their children a quality time. This later leads to those awful fights between a teenager who never helps around the house on their own only when asked/ordered. Children are glorified exotic pets, one task from a bucket list or worst, investments. But part of the family? Less likely. Not unconditionally.

PAV-TI AND AHSOKA

If you think about Ahsoka's backstory in the Tales of the Jedi, her mother also brought her on the hunt and made her look when she skinned the animal. Teaching her that death is a part of life and even when they take resources from the nature, they should do it with respect. Pav-Ti was already teaching her to be a part of their small community.

I think Mando culture is the same: they involve their children in their profession from early age. Probably teaching your children how to kill for money is not exactly ethical by our earthling standards. Regardless, they do it together. Little mando'ade won't go to school, they spend their time with the family and learning skills they will need if they choose the same profession and lifestyle as their parents.

PRACTICES OF VARIOUS MEMBERS OF THE CUY'VAL DAR

So that's why I think that even if the members of the Cuy'Val Dar had seconds thoughts, training child soldiers are nothing out of ordinary. I can't speak for the remaining non-mando trainers what was in their mind.

But when Dred Priest and Isabeth Beau started their own little figthing rings in the guise of "preserving the old ways", it was really considered fucky even among the other mando trainers Death Watch couple-goals: torture children together <3. Dred Priest despised the clone cadets and they actually died under his care and this is one of the reason why Mij Gilamar killed Priest later in the books.

Walon Vau wasn't introduced to mando values until he ran away from home as an adult, but his abusive upbringing shaped his worldview on how he trained the cadets. Strict codes and harsh punishments. He had his regrets of it later.

From O66, Walon Vau to Kal Skirata

Love has many shapes. Vau wanted them to survive because he loved them. But loving them and treating them good/bad is not the same.

We know about Kal that he taught by experience. He never gave an assignment to his cadets before he first showed them how to do it.

And then we have these notorious parts of him regarding the clones which can be interpreted so many ways but often used as the evidence as child abuse:

And this one also:

(sometimes I throw my brain outtaaa windoooOOooOooOow what people call abusive these days...)

What is my stance about this particular passage? I think he didn't abuse the clones. He wanted them to survive too. He wanted to make it easier for them which was really hard considering the circumstances. He wanted to be a father to the clones like Munin was to him.

We saw the differences between Omega Squad and Delta Squad. The Delta first left Walon Vau behind because they were ordered to do so. Delta left Sev behind because they were ordered to do so. As far as we know, no one deserted from the Empire from Vau's commandos. They remained loyal to the Republic/Empire. Darman could have been with his son and with Clan Skirata but he choose to remain with Niner in the Empire. He remained loyal not the empire, not even Kal Skirata but his brother. Just like Kal thaught them.

What makes them different from the jedi and at the same time so similiar?

The Jedi seek out force sensitive children to teach them how to control this power within them and make sure, they won't use it for personal gain. And later, when they grow up, they will do the same.

Mandos take pity over war orphans (usually that's the case), take them into their clan of soldiers and they teach them a profession and one day, they can do the same.

Both faction are doing it, guided by the same principle: COMPASSION.

Jedi are practicing compassion toward every living, while Mando compassion is just much more personal on the individual level.

Dialogue from Imperial Commando between Arligan Zey and Kal Skirata. I think this baby stealing prejudice comes from that force sensitive children are separated from their parents and all this goes against the family centric view of the mandalorians where family is above all and the children are only safe with their families.

In conclusion...

My personal take after this little research that Mando trainers didn't abuse children, not in their own mandalorian standards. I say this because of Dred Priest who was condemned for actually hurting his cadets, forcing them to fight against each other, and lots of them actually died.

After the failed experiences with the Nulls, the kaminoans and trainers didn't expose the clones to live rounds and bombs until so much later, that's why the commandos and Alpha-class ARCs feel much more balanced in their phyche.

I think Walon Vau abused his cadets but he justified it with love.

Kal made them to do horrible exercises and said a lot of shitty things to the clones (though I think it's kind of like when you call your cat a whore out of affection) but overall he tried to make their suffering bearable.

[anananass]

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader ~ Weakness

warning: none, maybe a little suggestive at the end of it

Tags: Wrio being a mess, so much love, feelings of being undeserving, slightly angsty?? But just really affectionate, him being showered with love, seeing a different side of the Duke, weaknesses

note: i love how he is such a mess, a bold mess of a man (i kinda wanna write a spicy continuation, dear god) also this stayed in my drafts for far too long

wc: 2,2k

“You look tired. It’s getting late, maybe you should call it a night.” you pointed out in a soft whisper that seemed to snatch his attention almost immediately.

Wriothesley lifted his eyes from the stack of papers he had been buried in for the past few hours. Just how much did he stay like that? He swore his preparations began not too long ago, but given the circumstances of your interruption and the dripping saliva running down his jaw, things seemed far clearer.

Curious but unresponsive, he checked the time only to see that it had been 7 hours since he started working. 7 hours? World record, he told himself as heavy eyes followed each scattered page until finally deciding to lift back onto yours.

“Awh, fuck.” the scoff vibrated from within his throat, coming out sounding more guttural than anything else. You watched him lean back against his chair, and couldn't help but wonder how tense his muscles must feel after sitting in that position for so long.

Truth be told, he almost fell asleep on the desk right before you came. If it weren’t for you, god knows how much time he would have wasted dozing off instead of finishing his tasks. But would he be able to finish everything without another sleep accident? For some reason, he felt more exhausted than usual, yet he couldn’t just leave everything piled up into a mess, although it wasn’t.

Despite all these cues, his train of thought persisted, as if he wasn’t allowing himself to catch a breath even for a second. That didn’t mean you had to follow in his steps. Your own need mattered more than his, thus he had to ensure you'd fulfill this necessity of getting rested.

Oh, how he wished to be able to stay by your side though. How much he wished to be able to embrace you from behind and feel your warmth surge through his nerves until his boiling blood would match yours. Nothing but a desire.

“If you need to go to bed, it’s fine. Go ahead.” Wrio replied with an equally soft voice to yours, but as soon as he finished, a wide grin rose on his face. Icy eyes watched you longingly. “Unless you can’t fall asleep without me by your side.” The yearning in his voice sent bits of shivers down your spine, but the whiff his words gave off was something different. You couldn't read his motions, but no matter what, you just wanted to push him to come with you even more.

His tentative comment amused you a little, he wasn’t wrong, but the exhaustion he held in his gaze only drove you to pursue him into resting. You approached him at a steady pace, sitting right beside him. Wriothesley eyed you intently, a little excited to see just what you were about to do but as soon as you placed your hand on his chin and held him tightly, his eyes weakened with pleasant surprise. He could barely process the emotions flowing down his throbbing heart. Just… Why does he feel this way?

“Maybe I do, but also maybe you’re in too deep and need a break.” your mouthed words seemed to have mesmerized him momentarily. Maybe it was also the fact that your loving embrace placed his heart in such a tough spot that at this point he couldn’t just say no. It was an odd feeling not even he could understand. “Do you really think you can finish this whole thing without a few hours of sleep?”

You were right, of course you were. If he were to push himself any further, he would only end up putting in more work later on, so maybe a little pause wouldn’t be that bad. But, things couldn't be left like that. He had to carry his job just for a little longer.

In response to you, you had to watch his grace slowly reach for your hand to hold it firmly. Heavy eyes looked up at you, weighing a mass of desire to give up and just follow your lead. Wriothesley slowly narrowed the distancing gap between his partly open lips and your hand. Yet, as soon as there was nothing to divide them, you felt his lips run down against your skin, dragging soft kisses behind each touch. This action made you wonder just how much his heart fluttered, but it was so obvious with the way he just wouldn't stop.

What a romantic he is, nothing but a sweet man who enjoys the sensation of being loved and cared for. One so desperate for something but the only obstacle in front of him is he himself.

“Whatever shall I do with you, Y/N?” the Duke spoke at last, sounding like he was dying to just give up on it and come follow your sweet scent. You saw his eyes thin in discontent and his throat shake upon letting out a displeased sigh, signaling that he wanted it so badly but just wouldn't crack. And you meant to say something more, to convince him, but he seemingly continued his idea. “I feel like it’d be better to finish these now, I don’t know. But I promise I’ll come lay next to you as soon as possible.”

What could you possibly do to break his composure? You still held an ace under your sleeve but… no, it was the case for it.

You allowed him to watch you let out a muffled hum, after which you spared no time to lean down and kiss him on his lips. You made sure to apply enough pressure to get out a hoarse gasp outta that pretty mouth of his, and as soon as you deemed your action to suffice, you parted away and gazed deeply into his cold eyes.

“Why can’t you just be a good boy and listen? It’ll do you and your work so much good, I promise.” your voice slipped barely above a whisper, filling the air with an odd fragrance that drew him in closer.

You… what did you just do? The question repeated over and over again inside his head.

Why did those two words, that pair of words, make his heart skip a beat? Why does he feel his chest tightening the more he thinks about the way you pronounced them? And more importantly, why is there a glimmer in his eyes?

Why does he feel this way, like his blood is boiling and his chest could be exploding at any time? The complexity of figuring out this behavior you brought up was too much to withstand for him. So much so that he just kept silent for a little while, doing nothing but watching that gentle smile of yours appear to grow larger.

‘Good boy’ he repeated it again… and again… until he felt nothing but a need for submission. His body melted against the rigid chair that once served to bring him even more discomfort, but at this point, he just didn't feel a thing, not an ounce of physical pain.

He couldn’t allow himself to keep you in the shadows for any longer. As such, in an attempt to collect all his shattered pieces, he frowned and smiled at you. You even heard him chuckle faintly, which he often did when you hit a weak spot of his.

“Alright, but I’ll have to tend to it in the morning.” He finally agreed and, with a nod, lifted his rigid body, which felt far heavier than usual. It felt terrible, far worse than he imagined, but he chose to ignore it and instead found comfort in kissing you once more, not that you made him long for more.

“No worries, I’ll make sure you wake up.” in some way, your reassurance melted his icy heart.

What did he even do to deserve someone so caring for his needs? He wasn’t special in any way, and his duties didn’t make him as incredible as everyone considered him to be. Nonetheless, he simply couldn’t grasp why he was given so much credit for fulfilling his job. He was nothing but a man who lived every day like it would be the last, yet with you… he felt like he gained so much more meaning than that. It was inexplicable. But now was not the time to surrender himself to his own battles, not when you were there by his side.

You took his hand into yours and patiently led him to his dorm, and the moment you both made your way, you took off your jacket fast enough to tend to him. Wriothesley on the other hand, took off his boots, followed by bits of his clothes after which you came along to help him. It took him off guard just how fast you reached and he meant to assure you that he got it, but the tentative smile you held on your face persuaded him to let you spoil him a little longer.

He didn’t feel deserving of something so little, but if you wanted to help him prepare himself for a comforting night, he had no chance of making you change your mind. Instead, it filled him with a feeling of odd security, something he hardly ever felt before. It was infatuating.

Feeling your hands wrap around his frame with a swift touch, one that hardly pressed against his sensitive bundles of nerves, caused him to flinch. It felt lightweight really, but in some way, the heaviness of your means caused your embrace to inflict a sense of deeper love within his walls and the more you ran your hands down his sides, the more these feelings intensified to the point where he froze in place.

Of course, you were quick to take notice of how much such a miniature gesture caused such a big fuss for him, but instead of considering dropping it down, you just felt even more courageous to do it.

Yet when you finally unbuttoned his vest, took it off, and got to his shirt, you felt the sensation of his eyes following every single motion you exerted. Instead of being overwhelmed by it, it enforced your desire to pamper him, so you nonchalantly began taking off the textile bound around his toned muscles.

Each inch of exposed skin made you wonder how much effort he put in all his life to get this chiseled, but now was not the time to froth after how good-looking he was. He did observe your vast interest in his body though, and chuckled mischievously. It was adorable to see you squirm so cutely at the sight of his beefy build, so much that it distracted him momentarily from all the tension you put into him.

“You really like what you’re seeing, ehh?” The duke chuckled in amusement mixed with slight confidence. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You got me all for you, don’t worry. Take your time.” You could feel the boldness in his boisterous words, and had to get back at him.

“Funny how moments ago you were but a puddle of weakness.” You responded equally, if not more amused, so much that he stared at you for a few seconds to take in what you just said. To make things worse, you lifted your eyes to look intently into his as smugness slowly grew all over your face.

“Of course I was.” Wriothesley paused for a second just to come closer to you. His towering figure accompanied by the enlargement of his curling lips had you feeling a little on the edge. It made you feel as if you wanted to jump on him. “You always make me weak, it’s a common thing at this point.” Upon finishing, he leaned lower to press a kiss against your forehead, to which you replied with a surprised gasp.

The Duke chuckled once more and allowed you to finish your business, holding an innocent smile to show off. He sure was feeling almighty after everything you did to him.

In the meantime, you quickly finished taking off his shirt so all that was left for him was to take off his garments. You on the other hand? You just needed to put on your nightgown, something that’d be done in a matter of seconds. But honestly, you kind of just wanted to finish getting prepared so you could keep watching him finish.

After a little more time, you were finally able to direct your attention his way once more, but when you peeked at him… you were greeted by the view of him unbuttoning his trousers. His digits were so delicate and paid so much focus to taking the texture off, was he doing this intentionally, or was he so exhausted that his motions got slower? You couldn't figure it out, but it was enjoyable.

Upon seeing him be finished, his grace flashed you a gentle glimpse and reached for your hand. He stood behind, waiting for you to lead him toward the bed frame so you two could rest together.

His eyes frayed a tint of intrigue mixed with suggestions. Regardless, you brushed it off since you didn't want him to remain awake any longer, although this temptation surging down your spine kind of made you feel some way for sure. It frustrated you a little, but his health was more of a priority than anything else.

[jakes3resin]

So I'm watching episode 1 of MOTA again, and all I can think about is what if Bucky wasn't there when the boys land. What if he crashed on one of the missions he was a tag along? What if Buck landed in England and didn't see his John there waiting for him?

Just imagine you're the other crews and personnel at the base. You've just had a new arrival of boys ready to run missions while you're still recovering from the last one that saw more planes leave than came back. How do you respond when one of the newly arrived Majors asks where Major Egan is? How do you say sorry sir but he went down yesterday without sounding callous? How do you react when that Major nearly falls to his knees in front of you?

What do you do when your worst nightmare comes to pass? What do you feel when you let half of your soul slip away like a thief in the night?

How do you breathe when it's your fault?

John's not there when Buck steps onto English soil.

Something's wrong, a sharp voice whispers into his ear. Something's changed. Find him.

There's no one to ask.

The ground crews run to secure their plane, running diagnostics and checking what they have to work with. A lieutenant directs them to a truck, saying they'll be taken to their assigned quarters.

There's no time to stop and ask. No one will stop and let him ask at least. They're dropped at their assigned huts and barely given enough time to drop their stuff off before they're shuffled off again.

Meeting after meeting keeps them busy. Huglin introduces himself and leaves just as quickly. A British Colonel steps up to welcome them. Apparently, they need to be welcomed by every higher up this base has before they can lay down or eat. Every higher up except the Air Exec.

Buck tries to ask, but no one stops long enough to answer him. Apparently, they're planning the next bombing mission already, and all hands are on deck.

Buck wonders if that's where John is.

They're sent back to their huts and told dinner gets served at exactly 6 o'clock sharp. The rest of the evening is their's as they're not on rotation just yet. Buck leads the boys in.

"Are you Major Cleven, sir?"

Buck turns and finds a short curly haired boy staring at him. Kid barely looks eighteen, but there's a tired look to him that doesn't match. He's dressed in the typical ground crew's overalls holding a bike steady in each hand. There's a stripe of grease across his cheek.

"Depends whose asking," Buck waves the other boys into the building. They're all exhausted and should get some rest before dinner. They trail past, grumbling about meetings after being stuck in a Fort all day. All of them staring between Buck, the mechanic, and the bikes.

"Sergeant Ken Lemmons, sir," The now named boy smiles at him, cherubic and sweet. "I'd shake your hand, but I need them to keep these steady you see."

"Nice to meet you." Buck nods staring down at the bikes. "How can I help you?"

Ken pauses, eyes wide and full of some emotion Buck can't place. He doesn't like it.

"Well, I," Ken bites his lip and drops his gaze. "I thought I'd deliver these to you. For Major Egan, sir."

"John sent you?"

Relief flows through him. John's fine. He's just running late or stuck somewhere, and he sent someone to make sure Buck didn't feel forgotten. He'd roll up soon with a bright smile to talk Buck's ear off about what idiotic, mind-numbing task kept him from Buck's side. Life could finally get back to normal with them.

Ken shakes his head. Buck tilts his.

"John didn't send you?"

"No sir." Ken stares up at Buck. "He was just so excited to give you these that it didn't feel right not getting them to you somehow. Can't get anywhere on base without one, and he won them for you."

"Right," Buck glanced down at the bikes, confusion growing. "Would you mind telling me where Major Egan is, if he didn't send you?"

"No one's told you."

It's not a question. Not with that level of devastation attached. Ken's eyes look destroyed, startlingly so. Heart jumping, Buck nearly growls.

"Tell me what, Sergeant?"

"Major Egan didn't come back from a mission yesterday. He, well, uh, he crashed, sir."

The earth drops out from underneath him. He's freefalling.

Buck tries to breathe. He'd told John not to die on him before he got over here, but it'd been light-hearted. He never truly thought John would die, never allowed himself to think it for fearing of jinxing John.

I told you, the voice from before whispers. You didn't notice.

He knew something was wrong when John didn't meet them on the runway. He should have known then. John had been so excited to see him, had talked about all of the things they'd do together once Buck flew over. Nothing would have kept him from seeing Buck.

"Where?" Buck manages out. He needs to know. Needs to know so that he can think. He needs facts and data, something logical. So that his brain will work. His heart feels slashed open from just that word. Betrayed by his brain, his heart rebels even thinking those words to be true.

"Sorry sir, there's no record of where his plane went down."

No record? How could there be no record? That was the navigator's job! How could they not know where John went down? How could they not see it?

Worse, how could Buck not feel it? How did he go about his day yesterday unaware that the other half of his soul was gone? Fell from the sky, and Buck didn't do a damn thing! Had lived through that moment none the wiser! He'd hadn't even paused.

"Buck?" Benny's voice breaks through his downward spiral, and Buck has to push through it. Has to swallow his grief and hold back his tears because he has men to take care of. He has a job to do.

"Sorry boys," Buck turns around face now carefully wiped blank. Benny watches him, and the rest of the crew gathers round the doorway watching. They look worried. Some of them glance behind him at Ken. The one man who'd finally answered Buck. The one man Buck never wanted to see again.

John's dead.

Buck knows he has to say the words, has to tell them what's going on, and then he has to find the other crews and tell them because that's his job. He has to find Curt and Jack. A laundry list of people who need to know. Then he has to write John's mother and sisters. That's his punishment now. He let Bucky fly alone. He has to do this. He has to say the words. But he can't. Because once he says them, it's real. John's gone, and Buck spoke it into the universe. Buck made it true.

"Bit of a hold up on our welcoming committee?" Benny asks. Buck can hear the question he's really asking. Where's Bucky? All of the waiting faces scream it at him.

I don't know! He wants to scream. He's gone! Gone where I can't follow when he promised not to!

"Yeah," Buck says, voice soft. "You could say that."

He clears his throat.

"The sergeant here..."

Fuck, Buck's a coward. The words eat at his insides, gnawing at his heart, but he can't say them. Can't get them up his throat and out his mouth.

"I've got to head in, more debriefs." Buck's heart races. The faces around him nod in understanding. "I'll find you boys after."

The men fall out talking amongst themselves as they head back to their bunks, but Benny stays. Buck tries to breathe. Ken stands silently next to him still holding on to those damned bikes.

"Where's Bucky?" Benny asks before Buck can escape. Buck clenches his jaw. Benny's eyebrow ticks up.

"Something happen?" Meatball runs up to them, panting and happy to see Buck. John will never get to meet him.

"You could say that." Buck manages. He reaches down to run a hand over Meatball's head. John had loved it when Buck played with his hair. The dog bounces around, playfully nipping at Buck's hand.

"What else could I say about it?"

"There was a mission." Buck starts. Tries to speak but shuts his mouth a few times. Benny stares at him. Ken shuffles behind him.

"John," Gale pauses. "Bucky didn't make it back."

"Shit," Benny curses, and Gale stares down at Meatball. His hand rests just behind his ears. The dog tilts his head at him, wondering why he stopped. Bucky used to do that too, whenever he wanted Gale to do something with him.

"Where'd he go down?"

"No record."

"Shit," Benny breathes out. Gale bites his tongue.

"Sir, I really am sorry." Ken's voice is soft. "I thought everyone knew to tell you. They were supposed to tell you."

But they didn't! Gale wants to scream. They didn't, and now I'm alone!

"Thanks for telling us, you can leave those there." Benny says gesturing to the bikes.

"Yes, sir."

Ken slowly turns away with another quiet apology that Gale doesn't acknowledge.

Rage boils up within him. Rage at Ken for telling him. Rage at the crew for allowing Bucky onto their doomed mission. Rage at the Germans for starting the stupid fucking war. Rage at every person who had a hand in taking Bucky away.

Rage at Bucky for leaving him.

It feels hollow to be so angry at Bucky. It's not his fault, but Gale is angry at him. They were a pair, Bucky had made sure of that the day he named Gale.

He's alone now.

He doesn't know how to do it. It's been torture these past few weeks with Bucky in England. The only thing that had gotten him to today was knowing the separation was temporary. How was he supposed to last the rest of his life?

"I'll tell the others," Gale turned to Benny. "Would you mind telling the boys in there?"

"Sure, Buck," Benny nods, staring at him. Gale knows the other won't turn away until Gale leaves, so he does. He has to. He has to turn away and start moving. Because if he lets himself stop now, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to move out of that rage. He'll sink into it, and that's not who he wants to be. That's not the man Bucky loved. He need to keep going. For Bucky.

Gale heads out. He walks without any place in mind. He doesn't know where Curt or Jack are quartered, doesn't even know who he could ask. He simply walks through the base.

A crowd draws his eye, and despite himself, Gale wanders towards it.

Men rush into a hut not to dissimilar to the one Gale had just walked away from. A few of them hold clipboards calling out names, and as Gale watches, trunks matching those names get carried out.

"Excuse me? Are you assigned to these barracks?" A private walks up to him, clipboard clasped to his chest.

"Pardon?" Gale walks closer. He scans the rows and rows out trunks as they're loaded onto a truck.

"Are these your quarters, Major...?

"Major Gale Cleven. No. What are these?" Gale runs his hand along the nearest trunk.

"Trunks to be sent home, sir." One of the privates turns to him. "We have to move them out so the new arrivals can move in."

That's why they were stuck in useless meetings all afternoon, Gale suddenly realizes. They'd had to move the missing men's belongings out. The knowledge makes him ill.

"Where do you take them?" Stomach rolling as he asks, Gale projects an air of stoic calm.

"Down there," The private points down the road. "It's another empty bunkhouse, but it's better than storing them in the open sir."

"Right," Gale murmurs, mind already racing. "Back to it boys."

Gale walks, purposeful this time, down the road. If all of the trunks were being moved now, maybe... maybe Bucky's was there. It wouldn't be much, wouldn't be him, but it'd be enough, just enough to get him through today.

No one stops Gale as he walks into the bunkhouse. In fact most of the boys avoid his gaze as if he were a ghost walking among them. Which maybe he's as close a man can get. Half his soul is gone. Doesn't that make a man a ghost? Can't he qualify?

Bucky's trunk is tucked in a back corner. His must have been one of the first to be cleared out.

Gale kneels beside. He'd never been too religious, but this feels near enough to a church that Gale barely dares to breathe.

The trunks sits there bathed in the late afternoon light streaming through the windows. Gale reaches out his hand. The metal is cold to the touch. The paint spelling out Bucky's name is a soft white. There's a scratch across the top, and scuff marks along the bottom. Gale traces those. They're signs of life. Signs that Bucky once lived and breathed dragging this trunk along behind him.

Gale can't open the trunk. He thought he could, thought it'd help him, but he was wrong. This is worse. Sitting here in this graveyard of lost men, Gale feels tears burning at his eyes that he can't hold back anymore.

His John is gone. Bucky is dead, and all that's left is this trunk. This trunk and Gale.

"Can't believe you boys moved my fucking trunk! Talk about burying a man before he's dead!"

Gale's heart stops, and he turns tears trailing down his cheek. Barely daring to hope, he stares at the entrance.

"Sir, we were informed that we needed to move these trunks. Our apologies for not double-checking!"

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, any of you guys hear if the 100th flew in yet?"

Gale scarcely dares to breathe.

"Yes, sir! They flew in three hours ago."

The voices grow closer. Gale turns, still on his knees next to Bucky's trunk. Any second they'll walk in. Any second Gale's hopes will be dashed, and he'll return to a world where his John, the boys' Bucky is dead. He'll remain a Gale with no one else's name attached to him.

Any second.

The moment passes. The door opens. Light bleeds into the room, and Buck hadn't known how dark it had been before then.

[chaoticallywriting]

A Merciful King ☼ Epilogue

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: talk of death, blood, torture, childbirth

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: It has been exactly a month and fourteen days since I posted the first chapter to this series (on my old account). I had no clue it would go this far or that so many would love it, I'm so used to my writing not being received at all or only being received by very few. The response I've gotten for this story is overwhelming and honestly I love all of you guys for the support you've given me. Despite being ready for a new story I think I'll always have a soft spot for amk and I know I'll miss this series. On a story note, the second to last like 'scene' is both of their povs, mainly readers but I decided to mesh their thoughts in certain bits. I also took inspiration for the crown from jesus because despite not being religious I like the flare of it.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.    

Taglist, if you asked to be tagged and you aren't on the list it's because it wouldn't let me add you so I just got rid of your name. It only lets me tag 50 people so I'm sorry!: @mirandastuckinthe80s @b1gb3anz @daenerysdracarys @wondergal2001 @flavorofsalt @daddysfavoritesexkitten @zillahvathek @itsametaphorbriansblog @elleclairez @stargaryenx @tired-ninfa @caramelcandescence @viscardiac @moonxhunt @tisthekatseason @bajadotcom @xxlilyxx90 @ohitsthemaster @justasmallbean @thefloatingpickle @lawlerek @miqaelababa @arcielee @watermel0nsugarhigh @lovecleastrange @lyannesworld @imakeangelscry @aloneatpeace @xinyourdreamsx @cl-0-vr @borikenlove @shion-ah @widemiffyhappy @aegonsgf @bwormie @bellameshipper @evienorville @mandiiblanche @hydrationqueensworld @shiranai-atsune @hiatuswhore @giulia2372 @venice-bish @malfoytargaryen @crudemoon @crispmarshmallow @trifoliumviridi @wooya1224

Previously

Aegon Targaryen dutifully stays by your side while you recover. He doesn’t move from the rather uncomfortable chair, nor does his hand leave yours. Unfortunately, none of the lords nor guards were able to locate his brother, only found two different trails of blood. One leading from a study to the ballroom and the other leading from the same study to where Aemonds bastard son, Jaerion, was sleeping.

He has already told his mother his decision, that when you wake up he will marry you. She only nods, face solemn, as she goes back to mourning her favorite son. He’s not dead, that much is obvious by Vhagar’s behavior, but he is gone. The preparations have already begun, he’s decided the ceremony will be in the Grand Sept and a celebration will be held in the gardens. He understands why you might have an aversion to the ballroom.

Aegon tells you all of this while you sleep, there are only a few times you wake up from your milk of the poppy induced slumber and all you speak is gibberish. You ask for your handmaid Lila, you keep mumbling her name, but unfortunately no one can find her. 

Your marriage has been annulled, Aegon made sure of it during one of the most recent small council meetings (it's the only time he leaves your side). The small folk had shown so much outrage at learning that their favorite princess had been hurt by her own husband. 

Many began to gossip that something seemed amiss that day during the festival, that he seemed too tense and neither of you seemed to even notice each other's presence. This fairy tale that they were spoon fed was a lie, and all of Flea Bottom knows that the reason children are no longer dying of starvation is thanks to you. 

He tasks his mother and daughter to have your wedding dress made, the royal tailors already have your measurements so that should be easy. Giving them this task helps ease his daughter's anxiety, he even asks her to see if the boys would like to help. His only request is that the dress did not have any green on it, much to his mothers dismay. Aegon knows how much you’ve grown to hate the color, and he wants this to be a memorable and lovely day. 

“I love you,” he whispers, you groan in response.

Upon fully waking up, Aegon is filled with something he has not felt since Jaehaerys’s murder. You tell him and Alicent everything, it’s hard to ignore the face she makes when you mention stabbing Aemond, but you simply remind them both of what Alys has done. 

He wants to send out search parties all throughout the free cities, to put her head on a spike, and you keep quiet throughout his raging, not minding the idea. It is Alicent that shoots him down and reminds him of how that may make the leaders of said cities believe he is trying to attack them. 

So instead, search parties are sent all throughout Westeros (once again) looking for your handmaiden. Upon waking up, one of the first things you did was ask for Lila, Aegon had foolishly believed that maybe the two of you harbored a friendship, so imagine his surprise to find out the truth.

He feels the same outrage you do, those handmaidens were picked by him and his mother, and yet one was the reason for all of this? A taster is hired, all your meals are tested before being brought to you, and all of your handmaidens have been swapped.

“What kind of flowers?” he asks you one day, leaning on his hand that’s propped up by his elbow. He’s laying at the end of your bed, watching you sip on the broth the maesters brought you. ‘It has healing properties’ they said, but the face you keep making leads him to believe it’s just a new form of torture for you. Nevertheless, you drink all of it, every day since waking up you've drank and everyday you comment on how rancid it is. 

“Dragons breath, and black lotus’s. They’ll perfectly display our house colors,” you set the empty mug aside and reach out for him. Aegon eagerly moves from his position at the end of the bed to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. 

He’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to hide his love for you, some of that possessiveness and jealousy has waned away. Aegon is finally being granted his wish of calling you his, he just wishes so much tragedy hadn’t taken place to get here. 

“I want them filling the Sept,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist. Your eyes seem elsewhere, perhaps dreaming of the upcoming day. He’s thought about it with great detail and finds himself wistfully imagining the rest of his life with you. 

It makes Aegon feel like a silly child, like he needs to be scolded and reminded he cannot have such wonderful things. Yet you are in his arms, agreeing to marry him. When you woke up, and he told you the news, there was no fighting, no resentment or anger, only a sigh of relief. 

“Would you want a valyrian ceremony?” He knows there will need to be one following the faith of the seven, the lords and ladies will not approve of their marriage if they don’t. But perhaps, if you want, there can be another one, a more intimate one.

It’s silent for a few beats, your expression contemplative and lips pursed. “No,” you run your fingers up and down his chest, your eyes almost glazed over as you look at Rhaenyra’s bassinet. “I do not want to shed any more blood for a long time.” 

Part of Aegon feels relieved, if you had said yes he would do it, but the idea of seeing you bleed again (it’s only been a month) terrifies him. That night you laid limp in his arms as the Maesters got to work, they did the best they could while still in the ballroom. Maester Orwell had said they must act fast, that moving you to a private room would have to wait or else you would perish from blood loss. 

Aegon’s hands had been stained red for days, Alicents too. He had held his hand on top of the wound with his mother, trying to help in any way. Some courtiers stayed to watch, while others ran in disgust when they saw how much blood was smeared all over you. Most of the men were gone by that point, having ran out to try to secure themselves a seat on the small council. 

He didn’t realize just how much blood was on him until two guards slowly lifted you onto a wooden board and gently carried you to your chambers. He was knelt in a large puddle, as was his mother, and Aegon had held you for a long period of time. You were smeared all over him, staining his clothes, his hands, some had even gotten on his face.

The poor king was in shock, sat staring at the massive puddle, reflection gazing back at him as tears filled his eyes. You had almost died, the maesters even told them there was a chance you would die within the first few days of recovery. They talked about loss of blood, bed fever or even infection. Somehow you prevailed, and Aegon doesn’t know who or what to thank for such a miraculous thing. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingers stilling as your gaze shifts to look into his eyes. His face softens, mind being pulled away from the thoughts that plague his mind late into the night, and brings his lips down onto yours. The kiss is chaste, it’s nothing like how he normally kisses you, but perhaps a near-death experience softens a man. 

“I love you too.” 

You looked radiant, the dress was made of the finest white silks, it was form fitting and had gauzy sleeves and a cape that trailed behind you. There’s little silver dragons on your sleeves and cape, along with a metal belt that looks like a dragon taking flight around your waist. You looked like the perfect Targaryen bride. 

It’s three days after your wedding when the news reaches the both of you about Lila. She was found hiding in a pleasure house in Flea Bottom, apparently trying to make enough money to find safe passage to Pentos. The guards drag her into the throne room while Aegon sits upon the iron throne with his crown nestled perfectly upon his head.

You stand beside the throne in a dress made of black and red fabrics with gold detailing and a valyrian steel circlet that matches Aegon the Conqueror's crown. He had ordered it to be made three days before your wedding and placed it upon your head himself after the two of you had kissed.

The guards shove her onto the floor at the bottom of the steps, hands on their swords as they watch her every move. Aegon wants to order her death immediately, his chest rises and falls as he takes in the traitorous woman who helped kill his son, who tried to kill you. 

Surprisingly, she does not beg, nor does she weep or even look a little scared. Her eyes stay set on you, a hardened expression on her features as she never wavers. Gone is the girl you described her as, and in her stead sits a woman who looks ready to try to finish the job. 

“Why?” Is all you say, voice shaking with barely contained rage. Your hands are clasped together, tightly clenching your fingers as you take her in. All Aegon sees is blood that needs to be shed. He finds himself itching to grab his sword and do it himself, to slice her to bits that he will later feed to Sunfyre. 

“Your stepfather killed my father and little brothers in the war, there wasn’t even anything to bury once he was done with them. My mother followed soon after by her own hand.” Lila grits teeth, chest raising and falling. Her hands have been chained, as have her ankles, but still she yanks on the chains as if she believes herself strong enough to break them. “Alys offered revenge, I was happy to accept.” 

He leans forward, practically seething now. No one else is in the room besides the sworn guards, who happen to be Ser Criston and Ser Arryk. His mother stands on the opposite side of the throne, with Otto beside her. His words will never leave this room, he’s sure of it. “So you killed my son?!” 

Alicent jumps at the volume of his voice, hand clutching her chest, and Otto sighs. His wrinkled hand rubs his forehead, probably disappointed in him yet again. You on the other hand, stay with your back straightened, your hands reddened from irritation as you glare at this woman. You told him how you thought she was a friend, he cannot imagine how you must feel. 

“I believe it was Daemon Targaryen himself who once believed it was okay to seek revenge for the killing of a child, my youngest brother was only four and ten, just like yours was.” Lila briefly looks at him, that same barely contained rage in her eyes, before looking back at you. “A son for a son, Alys called it. I think my mother would have appreciated me seeking what little vengea-” 

You storm over to her, snatching her by her chin and roughly pulling her face up to look into your eyes. Aegon stood, ready to defend you, as he just barely heard your words. 

“Death would be too kind a sentence,” you spit out, “I shall have you tortured in the dungeons for as many years as we can keep you alive, perhaps I might stop by to watch occasionally.”

You shove her to the floor, body shaking as you clench your fists. Aegon comes down to stand beside you, a hand on your shoulder to say ‘I’m here, I understand.’ 

Ser Criston looks to him for confirmation, he seems astonished by the sentence, but all Aegon does is nod. Why would he go against your command when it is you she wrought the most pain against. Aegon grieves his son, misses him too, but Lila betrayed you the most. He won’t take choices from you ever again. 

Criston and Arryk pick her up, beginning to drag her away when she calls out, “you are a wicked beast! I wish I had managed to kill you!” 

He’s astonished by your response, he wants to grab your cheeks and pull you into a kiss when you confidently reply “you’re right, I am a dragon after all, and it will take more than your puny poison to kill me.” 

Gods, he loves you. 

He had danced with you all night, not a drop of wine was needed after the ceremony, his lips had hardly left yours. All your favorite foods were served, songs you both loved strummed out by the bards. You even picked up Jaehaera and brought her into dance with you two at one point. He had waved Aegon and Viserys over, so they could join too. Aegon never thought he’d have such a joyous wedding, let alone a little family that loved him like this.

Aelar is named heir while you are still a sweaty mess in your birthing bed. His older sisters Jaehaera, Rhaenyra and Saera all crawl onto the bed to get a peek at their little brother, excited giggles filling the room. He lets Otto announce to the kingdom that Aelar is born, he can’t bear to be away from you right now. Not when you're glowing like this, not with his son in your arms. A healthy baby boy who is alive. 

Aegon III and Viserys visit later, both boys having been training in the yard when the news broke out. The labor had been quick, so had Saera’s thank goodness. They ask to pick the egg out themselves and the two older girls all but demand to come with, Aegon watches as you smile at their childish bickering, little Aelar still in your arms. 

“Would you like to hold him?” You ask, voice low enough that the kids don’t notice. Honestly, Aegon is scared too. He had practically snatched Saera out of your arms when she was born, so excited for another child to spoil, but Aelar is smaller and the past still haunts the both of you. 

He nods, heart pounding as you slowly shift him into his arms, the second yours are free Saera climbs into them. She’s only just turned one, her brain probably has no clue what’s going on. The both of you had decided to wait for another child after Rhaenyra, the trauma left behind was too fresh. Both of you were scared that another birth would take you, or that you would perhaps deal with another stillborn. 

By now, Rhaenyra is five and an absolute spitfire, she constantly talks and always wants snuggles from her father before bedtime. It was due to her that Saera was born, she had begged for a little sibling despite Jaehaera telling her ‘they can be annoying sometimes’. Rhaenyra had thrown a pillow at her in response and stomped her little foot, lips pouting as she stared up at him. 

That night he had talked with you, and you agreed to stop drinking moon tea. Both of you were scared, but the pressure for an heir was ever present, and enough time had passed. The wound was still there, just like the scar on your stomach, but it had faded with time. Both of you hardly thought about Lucerys II anymore. 

Aelar squirms in his arms, tiny feet slowly kicking in the air, he’s all squishy and red like newborns are, but Aegon thinks he’s perfect. You lean your head against his shoulder, arms wrapped around Saera who gently tugs at your hair and stares at your son. This, him, he’s perfect. Suddenly Aegon forgets about the stress, the pressure, the desire to throw his crown into a crowd and walk away. 

Perhaps now life will be a little easier, perhaps the work of a king will be worth it when he thinks of how one day Aelar will inherit it. 

“I love him,” he whispers. By now, all four of the kids have run off with guards trailing after them, most likely to pick out an egg together. His gaze shifts to yours, eyes meeting in a loving stare. “Just like I love you.” 

“I lo-” Saera shrieks, hands roughly grabbing your cheeks as she surges forward. The both of you laugh at her silly antics.

The morning of his wedding, Otto had tried to discuss matters regarding the realm, he had all but tried to shoo him away. Unfortunately, his grandfather is a stubborn man. “There is also the matter of your… Assassins.” 

Aegon stills, telling all the servants shuffling about his chambers to leave as he finally faces his grandfather. Of course, nothing gets past this man. “Can I not have one happy day? One without business or whatever dreadful thing you're about to tell me.” 

“I have not told your mother about the horde of mercenaries you have hired to kill your brother, but I do want to remind you to restrain yourself. Even if another man kills him, since you were the one that paid for it, you would still be a Kin slayer.” 

Aegon shrugs, hands running through his cropped hair as he eyes the decanter left on his dresser. “I do not care, besides the last update I received is them being run out of Pentos. None of them have found where the roaches are now hiding.” 

Just one glass, he thinks while pouring himself a chalice full. You would need this too if you were stuck talking to Otto. “Seems the lords there were fond of Daemon Targaryen, they have not taken lightly to the news of his stepdaughter being harmed. Dorne also kicked them out for killing a child, I believe they didn’t fare well in Essos either.” Aegon takes a swig, leaning against the dresser as he glares at his grandfather, “either my mercenaries kill them or starvation will finally hit. They must have run out of money by now.” 

“Saera claimed Vhagar,” you say one evening, you're pregnant with your fifth child by now. Aegon stills, hands full of important documents that he’s drowning in. The words circle through his mind, trying to think of what to say as realization sets in. “The dragon keepers were surprised, seeing as she is only four and….” 

You're wringing your hands out, feet propped up by a stool, while you sit in your armchair. He wonders if you’ve told his mother, does she know? Should he go check on her? She’s been so focused on Helaena’s recovery, a new-found confidence in her daughter surging within her ever since Helaena has finally started leaving her room. Should he be the one to ruin that happiness for her? He’s ruined everything else, so it wouldn’t be anything new. 

“Oh,” is all he says, his throat is suddenly so dry. Aegon thinks to pour himself another glass of wine but for some reason he can’t unclench his hands, the papers within them crinkle, some rip. The stress did not leave upon Aelar’s birth, the weight on his shoulders has only grown. Now he wants to leave a perfect kingdom for him, and no matter what it seems he can’t. 

You slowly pull yourself from your chair, letting out a low groan as you waddle over to him. You’ve complained recently of your feet aching, it’s late into your pregnancy and any day you may go into labor. He wonders if it’ll be another boy like Rhaegar or if they’ll have another girl. He doesn’t know which he wants more. 

You stand in front of his desk, gentle hands on top of his as you slowly peel his fingers back. He gulps, staring at your hands, once stained red with your own blood. There are scars on both of them, Rhaenyra asked you about them recently.

Aegon had stilled at the dinner table, a dark look coming over his face as he recalls that horrid night. But you, ever the smart woman that he loves, just smiled and said, “sometimes a mother must make sacrifices.” 

It had been vague enough to confuse her and keep her from pressing for more information. Jaehaera though had stopped eating as well, eyes on your hands as she too recalled that night. Her name day has never been the same, every year she thinks of you in that puddle. 

“It was most likely peaceful” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts. Aegon knows you still despise him and while he too hates his brother for what he did At this moment he realizes what this means. His brother is dead. The boy he used to tease as a child, the one who covered for him when he would run off to Flea Bottom. The little kid he used to steal food from. He’s dead, and Aegon doesn’t even know how. Some time passes before you kiss his forehead and head to bed. Aegon finds himself slowly standing up, deciding to join you when his hand slips, papers sprawling across the floor.

He lets out an annoyed huff before bending down to pick them up, his hand sifts through the pile, bunching them in one hand while the other grabs the rest. His hands grasp onto something unfamiliar, brows furrowing when he finds a letter amongst the stack. 

Aegon shoves the unimportant (but actually very important) papers onto the desk before ripping open the letter, the letter is short, it’s signed ‘Nightshade’. His heart drops. 

“It’s done, proof is enclosed. 

~ Nightshade” 

Aegon digs inside the envelope, producing two strands of silver hair and one black. 

“You would still be a Kin slayer.” 

Aegon cannot bear to speak after that, he can’t even respond when you sleepily say you love him. The stunned man only nods in response. 

The cake served was a honey cake, he thinks, no he knows because that is your favorite cake. It was honey and your hair was pinned back, silver dragon pins found throughout your hair. You looked stunning that day. 

Everyone has caught on, the king is different, he’s quick to temper, erratic, stressed. He’s constantly seeking you out, so he can calm down, hands shaking and crown askew. Aemma lays in her cradle as you hold him. Aegon won’t say why, he can’t seem to fathom telling you what he’s done. 

“It’s too much” he sobs one day, hands clenching your dress as you hug him. “It’s too heavy!” 

You frown, pulling away and cupping his red cheeks, you look concerned, scared. Aegon can’t blame you, he’d be scared if this was you. “My love, talk to me, please. What is too heavy?” 

He chokes on his sobs, head resting on your chest. You take off his crown, throw it onto the bed and rub his back. “This feeling, I did it! I did it and I can’t take it back!” 

“You must tell me what this feeling is, so I can help you, maybe it won’t feel so heavy if you tell me.” 

Aegon pulls you closer until your body is flush against his, “I forgot she was still employed by me, everything was going so good, and she hadn’t found him in years s-so-” he sniffles, body shaking, “I forgot.” 

You nod along, one hand playing with his hair in a way that you know soothes him. “My last assassin killed Aemond, she killed his whole family.” 

He whispers the words, scared somehow the walls will hear and scream it to the whole realm. ‘Aegon killed his brother!’ They would screech, ‘he’s a kinslayer!’ 

Your ministrations stop, body suddenly so still as you take in his words. He’s scared you’ll scold him, reject him, show him the disgust he knows he feels for himself. Instead, you pull his face away from your chest, despite his protests, and look into his eyes. He doesn’t find any of those things, only sorrow and concern. 

“You forgot?” 

He nods. 

“Then you did not mean it, and therefore it was not you.” 

It's shitty reasoning, but he’ll take whatever you give him. He launches himself back into your arms. By now, the front of your dress is soaked, but neither of you comment on it. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats like a mantra. 

“And I, you” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. 

He can’t remember what kind of flowers were draped throughout the Sept, nor can he seem to remember the necklace you wore, despite it being a gift from him. Aegon can’t remember if you sat on his left or right, and he knows he used to remember that. 

“I want to talk to you,” you start. Aegon is laying in bed, boots kicked off and only in his small clothes. Lately there have been bags under his eyes, he’s lost weight and despite your talk a few weeks ago he still seems on edge. You’ve sat in on many of the small council meetings and noticed how detached Aegon has become. Many of the members scoff when they must repeat themselves. You're scared. 

Aegon pats the spot beside him, you crawl onto it but stay on your knees, a hand resting on his thigh as you gaze at him with concern. “What of?”

Even his tone sounds tired. Your hands reach up to cup his cheeks, “I have an idea, but you must hear it out before you make any comments.” 

“If this is about that new thing you heard the ladies gossip about, I will not let it anywhere near my as-” 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I want you to abdicate.” 

It’s silent, he looks confused, the only sound in the room is the crackling fire. You had moved Aemma to the nursery when you noticed how tired he seemed, best let him get as much rest as possible. “The stress is destroying you and-” you scoot forward, forehead pressing against his, “I can’t keep watching as you fall apart. I just want to see you happy again.” 

“Aelar is too young,” Aegon concludes, brows still furrowed. 

You chew on your lip before pulling away from him, hands dropping into your lap. You wring them out as you look down at them, the words that leave you shock him. “I know, but you have me, I could do it for you until Aelar is old enough.” 

“That’s unheard of,” he leans against the pillows, watching you nervously fiddle with your hands. You sigh, shoulders slumping as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yes, but not impossible. If I take over, you could relax, be with the kids more, take a deep breath. At this rate, if you keep going you’ll die from the stress alone.” You lean forward, leaning against your hands that are now flat against the bed. “I do not wish to lose you, and the kids are worried about you.” 

He gulps, even after so long such words still seem foreign to him. Every time his children tackle him or excitedly shriek at his presence he looks around for what is so interesting, it’s always him though. He doesn’t know how, but they love him, so do you, so do you his nephews. Even Alicent is gentle with him now. He’s taking on so much to keep you from it and yet you're sitting here asking for the stress, the burden, to help him. 

The small council would not like that, nor would Otto, and probably not his mom. The kingdom might be confused by it, but they do love you. Having you on the throne does not change the succession either, it would still fall to Aelar, so there would be nothing to worry about in that regard. 

“Let me be queen, so you may be the father you wish to be,” you say it so sincerely, so earnestly. How can Aegon say no to that? He hardly ever says no to you, he can’t start now. 

“You love me?” He asks, it’s the first time he’s had to ask in years, but this decision involves all the trust in the world. He needs reassurance. 

You nod, a smile on your beautiful lips as you sit back down, “I do, so much.”

You try not to remember your first wedding, the day was somber and against your will. None of it had been planned by you, and you had to keep from crying at the altar. But your wedding to Aegon? He made sure you helped plan it and when the day arrived everything fell together so perfectly. For a moment you forgot all your pain, all your heartache. That wedding you remember vividly, even as the years pass by. 

The dress they fit you in has valyrian steel shoulder pads and a belt. It’s all black with red satin cuffs at your wrists. The style of it reminds you of the dress you wore the day you almost died, except this one has silver dragons embroidered on the skirt. Your hair is twisted into intricate and regal braids and a silver ruby necklace is draped across your neck with matching earrings. 

The coronation will be in the throne room, and after you will give a speech to the small folk in front of the Red Keep. Many were shocked by the news that Aegon was stepping down, none more surprised than your good mother. Her lips had been pursed while she picked at her fingernails until they bled. 

You later found that she felt all her hard work and sacrifice over the years had been for not. Despite rejecting Aegon’s pleas as a child and making him marry Helaena, here you stood happily married to her eldest son. Despite starting a war to put him on the throne, here you stood, about to be crowned queen of the seven kingdoms. 

You think against telling her that none of this would have happened if she had just let the two of you marry, it would only upset her further. Upon hearing about Vhagar she had been beside herself. Helaena had stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to do, as she herself was not fully present yet. Her mind was still elsewhere most days. 

“Are you ready?” Aegon asks, he had requested to be the one to give you the crown and walk you to the throne. It felt right to have him be the one to hand it over to you, to tell the world he approves of this decision, that he sees you as the true ruler of the seven kingdoms. You take his hand, letting out a shaky sigh before nodding. 

“Yes.” 

You catch one last glimpse of yourself in the mirror before walking away. The sight shocks you, the woman staring back looks eerily similar to your mother. You wonder what she would make of the life you’ve lived since she passed. You still think of her often, thoughts consumed on if she’d be disappointed or not. 

The coronation is a blur. Aegon walks you to the iron throne after a guard announces your arrival. Everyone turns and watches you walk up the steps. You do not sit immediately, Aegon says his speech which you hardly hear, the ringing in your ears taking precedence over his words. In the crowd you see your children, up at the front and grinning from ear to ear. 

Jaehaera holds Aemma and Rhaenyra holds Rhaegar. Saera and Aelar are standing in front of them, fidgeting as their little bodies try their best to stay still. Your brothers stand behind your girls, shoulders back and faces proud. Neither remember what your mother looks like, you wonder if they see her in you as Alicent does. Part of you hopes they do. 

Aegon grabs the crown from the velvet cushion it was sat upon. He had a new one made for you, it’s the valyrian circlet he had made for your wedding, except he has added thorns to it, the way they are shaped almost looks like a dragons nest with rubies embedded to look like the eggs. They seem sharp enough to harm, maim even, as the thorns curl around one another. 

You wonder what went through his brain when coming up with the concept, he gently places it upon your braided hair and whispers, so only you hear, “for my mighty dragon.” 

Gods, you want to cry. 

“All hail the queen!” He shouts, turning to the crowd in front of him. They chant along with him as you finally ascend to the throne, your body fits perfectly against the seat as you stare out at the people, no, subjects in front of you. 

And while your new subjects stare up at you with unadulterated rage and shock, a shiver of happiness worms its way into your heart. This might not have been the way your mother wished for the war to truly end. She would still disapprove of your marriage to Aegon, but you know that at this moment as you sit on the iron throne, the crown of y/n the mighty laid upon your dark curls, that she would finally be proud of you. 

And in the end, that’s all you ever wanted.

[stuckinmymind22]

After Ever (Chapter 6)

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pair: sylus (l&ds) x MC tags/tw: lots of dialogue from game, cannon adjacent ig, graphic violence, blood, swearing, slight ooc, not proof read (never is) word count: 5.5k song rec: better than revenge by taylor swift a/n: important to note that he is not himself here, they are in extreme circumstances and might behave a bit ooc, but given their circumstances it makes sense PSA driving tired can be just as dangerous as driving under the influence

important: i wanted to group my writing together so i decided to move this fic over to this account but i promise it's still me. if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction and if you follow me for one piece content you can just mute the tag or something idk

Her eyes fluttered open, a blinding light dominating her vision. She was restrained at her wrists and ankles, she couldn’t see them, but knew they were there. Muffled voices spoke among themselves above her in a language she didn’t quite understand. Her heart rate quickened and her breathing deepened, the expansion of her lungs cut short by another set of straps outlining her midsection, further locking her in place.

She was praying that the people would leave and leave her alone, but it seemed no god was listening that day. The shadow of a looming figure broke up the powerful light. Another figure passes what looks to be a scalpel over to the first one. That is when she realized what was happening.

She screamed, pleading with the doctors to let her be. She could feel the tears rolling down her face, snot pooling at her upper lip. A hand came descending down onto her face and she screamed. The hand wiped away the mucus and her tears, telling her it would all be okay. The voice was familiar and should be comforting, but it was only inspiring further panic.

She screamed until she couldn’t anymore. A sharp sting from the scalpel making its first cut was the last thing she felt before everything started to get hazy.

“Just go to sleep, child,” a voice said… 

…Grandma?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kore’s eyes snapped open as she jolted awake. The relief she felt at the ordeal being over was cut short when the figure of another doctor loomed over her. It suddenly hit her that she had no idea where she was or what had happened to her, hell, she had no way of knowing what time it was or how long she was out. Although she attempted to not let fear get the best of her, she was scared and disoriented, worried that she hadn’t truly escaped her nightmare.

“You’re awake,” the old man said before checking her vitals. She was connected to various machines – all of which, according to her limited knowledge, seemed to be outdated by decades. Seemingly content, the man began the task of disconnecting her from all of the equipment as well as the IV bags that hung by her side.

“Y-yes, I am,” she responded, her voice raw from lack of use. Her throat was bone dry, and a glass of water was thrusted into her hands, which she greedily gulped down.

Kore was trying hard to get a grip on reality.  Her body, starving for stimulus, amplified every one of her senses, the steady beat of the heart monitor pounded in her head. Her vision started to regain clarity as her eyes started to fully adjust to the light.

“Good, we thought you might be a goner,” a new voice said from somewhere in the room. Her eyes snapped to the source of the sound, but whoever it was was shrouded in shadows. Well, that’s promising, Kore remarked about her safety.

“It looks like her vitals have returned back to normal, she should be out of the woods now, but it is important that you keep an eye on her and contact me if her condition starts to deteriorate,” the doctor said to the other voice in the room before making a prompt exit.

The room around her was dark, old, and stuffy, it looks like it could be from a haunted house if you added more dust and cobwebs, she remarked. In spite of all of its flaws, the room looked to be in remarkable condition.The sheets that she lied in seemed to have once been of quality but have worn into rough cotton over time.

“There is some food next to you if you are hungry,” the same voice said. Kore turned to the bedside and saw a modest meal, her stomach growled at the mere sight of food. Weakly, she reached for it and started eating the now cold soup.

A voice, slightly different but eerily similar, spoke up, “We made sure that you always had a meal because we didn’t know when you would wake up. Sorry if anything is missing, someone got hungry while watching over you.”

“So you two,” Kore started with a mouthful of food, decorum be damned.

“You’re seeing things. I’m the only one here. There is no ‘two’.” the first voice said. By then, Kore’s eyes had adjusted well enough to see the two figures in the room, one far in the corner resting on a dresser and the other walking closer to her. Her eyes narrow as she glares at the young man.

“Oh really, then I suppose your brother here is just an illusion,” she said pointing at the other man.

“Wow! How did you know we were brothers?” the one in the corner asked as he hopped off the dresser.

“Your voices are similar,” she paused, continuing once the second man had reached the light, “Plus you look the same. Twins, I suppose.” For some reason both men seemed to be impressed with her figuring them out.

“Oh wow! What else do you know?” the one on the right said.

“Do it again!” the other twin cheered.

“No,” Kore said and their shoulders visibly sagged, to which she couldn’t help but chuckle at. “What I want to know is why you were watching me and how long I was out.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” the same twin complained before the other elbowed him in the side.

“I’m sorry about him, I’m Kieran,” the one on the left said.

“And I’m Luke,” said the victim of the elbowing.

“To answer your question,” Kieran continued, “you were out for approximately three days, maybe four, I’m not sure, and we were watching you because our boss told us to.”

“When he wasn’t at your bedside like some lovesick puppy,” Luke giggled, earning him another elbow in his side. The twins seemed to have a silent conversation with each other that only they could understand.

“What I meant to say,” Luke said cautiously, eyeing Kieran for approval, “was that we should let our boss know that you are awake.”

“Before you do that I have a couple of questions,” Kore asked, the twins looked at each other and shrugged before she continued, “Where am I?”

“You’re in Onychinus’ base,” Luke answered.

“Why?” Kore further questioned.

“Because after you passed out our boss wanted to make sure that you were safe-” 

“Because you know the whereabouts of an aether core and no other reason,” Luke interrupted Kieran with an uncomfortable laugh. Kieran only glared at his brother.

“That answers my next question,” Kore said, finishing her food. “Now I only have one more question left, where is the bathroom?”

The twins guided her to the room’s en suite and informed her about extra clothes and toiletries in case she wanted to shower after so long. Relieved, she took them up on that offer, noisily locking the door behind her. It was only after she swept the bathroom for cameras, bugs, or other means of surveillance that she felt comfortable enough to do anything.

In the shower, she becomes lost in thought. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to go about getting more information about the aether cores and she didn’t know how she felt being kept hostage in Onychinus’ base.

She knew she needed to get out, that she wasn’t safe, but when would she have a better opportunity to gather intel on the enemy than being confined in their walls? As the water cascaded down her body, a plan started to formulate in her head.

If she could escape long enough to learn the layout of the base and its surroundings then allow herself to be caught again, she could use that opportunity to become close with her captors and learn more information about aether cores. Ideally, she would also be able to take down the whole of Onychinus, or at least the people at the top, but that was a secondary motive. All of this hinged on the idea that they would go after her, but with the incentive of an aether core, it was a bet she was willing to make.

Knowing the quicker she can escape the better, Kore started to strategize. She quickly settled on a classic technique, which seemed like it would be full proof if she could acquire a weapon. Finishing her shower, she dries off and goes over to the countertop where the fresh set of clothes lay. 

She wasn’t sure if it was kind or if it was weird that somehow all the clothes were her size even down to the bra. One thing that she did find was her crossbody bag, she tore into the bag and was grateful that whoever put it there hadn’t been thoughtful enough to actually go through it because in it she found her “weapon.” Now all she needed was a reason for one of the twins to get close enough to her. Inspiration struck when she was struggling to get the bra hooks to line up. Quickly, she finished getting dressed, leaving her bra unhooked.

She grabbed the shirt and hid the laser pointer she found in it. Pretending to struggle with hooking her bra, Kore exited the bathroom. She was relieved to find that the twins were still in the room. This is going to work, just commit to it, she thought to herself.

“Excuse me,” Kore said bashfully, “I’m really struggling to get this hooked on right, could one of you help me please?”

Both twins were too stunned to speak. Oh shit, this isn’t going to work, this would’ve worked better if they were women, Kore thought, cursing herself for not coming up with a better plan.  

Kieran was the first to snap out of it, stuttering, “S-sure t-thing, miss.” 

Kieran approached Kore apprehensivly and she turned around so he could help. While he was struggling for his life trying to clasp a simple bra, Kore was pulling her “weapon” out of her shirt.

Quickly she turns around and points the object at his head, “Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to give me your weapons and let me walk out of here or else.”

“Or else what,” Kieran, the one she had hostage, spoke up - with genuine curiosity. Kore shot him an incredulous look and composed herself quickly.

“Have you heard of the Xt-7, the Hunters Association’s latest weapon?” she asked, pressing the small object further into Kieran’s neck. She didn’t wait for a response before she continued, “It’s a high-powered laser that can penetrate your skin and vaporize your blood.” It was that that caused Luke to kick his weapon over to her and Kieran dropped his weapon to the floor. “The good news is that it’s quick and painless. The bad news is that you’ll be losing a lot of blood from your neck, are you squeamish?”

“Did we say that you weren’t allowed to leave?” Luke asked, Kore hesitated, “You’re free to go at any time.”

“We were never holding you hostage,” Kieran said shakily, still believing the laser pointer to be a threat to his life.

“Oh…” Kore mumbled, lowering the laser pointer slightly, “I’m still taking your weapons, but then you’re free to go.” True to her word, she picked up the duo’s guns and lowered the pointer. She then fixed her bra herself, Kieran had tried but clearly he has never touched a bra in his life. Pulling on her shirt, she heads towards the door.

“People are looking for you, you know,” One of the twins starts, “People more dangerous than us.” Kore can’t help but scoff at his words.

“And even if you escape, you’ll only get lost in no-man’s-land,” the other twin adds. Despite their warnings, the twins willingly gave Kore directions out of the building.

“As a gift, why don’t you guys have this,” Kore said, handing over her “weapon.” Luke took it from her hand eagerly and Kore opened the door, he thanked her profusely for giving them a confidential weapon from the Hunter’s Association. Both of the twins were marveling at the small object and on her way out the door Kore said with a gleeful grin, “It’s a laser pointer.”

As soon as she left the room, Kieran was already informing their boss that she was awake.

“How far do you think she’ll get before he finds her? A hundred meters?” Luke said.

“I bet not even ten,” Kieran responded.

“I’ll say five, then.” 

Huh, it was really that easy, Kore thought to herself as she entered the hall, its former opulence on display. Trickles of daylight from other rooms was the only thing that illuminated the way. At least I know it’s daytime, she thought.

Opting to ignore the directions that she had been given, she roamed the halls making a mental map of the building. The guns she took off the twins in her waistband dug into her hip as she walked. She had yet to regain her strength, her muscles ached with every step she made. She took short breaks periodically, justifying it in her mind as creating a more detailed map of the mansion while she braced up against the wall. 

At one of these stops Kore’s mind started to wander to the last thing she remembered before she woke up in that bed. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had hallucinated parts of it, she couldn’t picture smoke having the power to lift a fully grown man into the air like that. Her speculation was cut short when she caught movement in her periphery.

With a caw a large crow flew over top her head, as if it was trying to get her attention. As usual, curiosity got the best of her and she followed the bird to see where it went. The bird navigated the halls with familiarity, taking her back to where she started and closer to where Luke and Kieran said the exit was. Just when she was catching up to the crow, it made a sharp right entering a room through the transom window.

She heard the end of a conversation as it stopped abruptly, another door opened and closed with the sound of fading footsteps. The door she stood in front of was ajar, she could have sworn it was closed earlier. She didn’t know what, but something was pulling her to the room, almost like she needed it to survive.

“Come in,” a deep voice said from inside, “I don’t bite.” The voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. After a moment’s hesitation, Kore entered the room.

As soon as she stepped through the door she felt a force pulling at the hem of her shirt. Before she knew it the guns she had confiscated were pulled from her waistband and flew across the room in a cloud of smoke, ending in the hands of the only other person in the room.

“It’s not very nice to steal,” the man said, giving the guns to the crow perched on the back of his chair, who took them and flew out the same way it entered, “I would’ve thought the Hunter’s Association would have taught you that.” 

She figured out how she knew his voice, he was the one who killed the man who kidnapped her, and kidnapped her in turn. Kore was quite taken aback by the man in front of her, even in the dim light she could tell that he was gorgeous, snow white hair, crimson eyes. His chiseled features were accentuated by the dim lights casting shadows on his face. He sat upon what seemed to function as a throne with a haughty aura surrounding him. This must be him, this must be the leader of Onychinus, Kore thought to herself, This is Sylus. 

“You’re one to talk,” Kore scoffed back, still at the room’s edge. The man let out a dark chuckle. Suddenly, the same energy that pulled the weapons away from her was pulling her closer to him until she was standing a few feet in front of Sylus. She looked him in the eyes with every intention to chastise him for moving her like a ragdoll, but then she started to hear voices in her head.

Kill him… Devour him… He’s yours…

Using all her might, she broke eye contact with him and to her relief, the voices stopped. She made note to avoid looking him in the eyes at all costs, lest he get the upper hand. That idea didn’t last for long as the smoke forced her to look at him. This time the voices didn’t appear.

“Is this how you greet an old friend?” The question confused Kore, up until recently she had never seen him in her life. A wave of anger flashed through his expression before quickly being tampered down to the same uncaring aura he held before. 

“I take it that you don't remember anything,” Sylus said, something like hurt creeping into his voice. “I suppose it would be time wasted trying to tell you anything. All you need to know is that you and I, we’re the same. True kindred spirits.”

“We’re not the same. You’re a monster,” Kore spat out, “I should kill you where you stand.”

A dark laugh escaped the imposing man and he responded, “You’re lucky I don’t like picking on the weak, Kitten.”

“You killed my family, you bastard,” she screamed, storming up to his dumb chair. For a fraction of a second, Sylus’s eyes widened, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving Kore questioning what she had seen.

Reaching into his waistband he pulled out a gun. He made sure that the gun was loaded and the safety was off before he extended the handle out to her - much more relaxed than he should be. 

“Didn’t you want to take my life? Or do your words ring hollow?” Sylus asked her with a steady voice. She was shaking, unable to understand why he was so calm, casually offering for her to shoot him as if it was a benign activity. He patiently held the gun out for her, waiting for her to accept it. 

The voices from earlier started chanting in her head once more. Despite her conscious begging her not to, Kore reached out and grabbed the gun, grasping it firmly. She had had so many years of training that firearms were second nature to her at this point, without thinking she pointed the barrel at the center of his eyebrows.

“You think I won’t do it?”

“That’s better," he smiled. “I don’t think you have it in you,” he said, redirecting the gun so it was aiming at his heart. Kore hesitated again, her moral compass speaking louder than the weird voices inside her head.

“Why are you trembling? Has your resolve already begun to falter? You weren’t just bluffing, were you?” His even, condescending tone was really starting to piss her off.

“Do you need some help? Yes? No? Maybe So?” Sylus further patronizing her was the final straw. With a renewed sense of determination and without a second thought, Kore pulled the trigger.

It wasn’t as bloody as she had expected, aiming for the heart. Nonetheless, blood covered both of them as it shot out of his arteries. The recoil had sent them flying apart, Sylus slumped in his chair and Kore stumbled several steps back to the ground. Upon hearing his ragged, gurgly breath, Kore regretted her actions. Just because the man quite literally had asked to be shot didn’t make it right. He may be a heartless killer but it was the government's job to deliver justice, not hers. 

“Fuck,” Kore whispered. This time she screamed, “Fuck!”

She scrambled to her feet and ran to him as fast as she could. She applied pressure to his wound, desperately hoping it would stop his bleeding, while mumbling a line of creative curses. When the blood didn’t stop she resorted to pleading, “Don't die, you can’t die yet! I still need you! Shit.”

The man in front of her chuckled. Chuckled! She was trying to save his life, grappling with becoming a killer and he was laughing. 

“Are you worried about me?” Sylus managed to choke out. He was insane. Insane. 

“Are you crazy,” Kore whisper-shouted at the man, scared of drawing attention to the mess she had made. 

“You wanted to take my life. And now you have," he said. Suddenly, waves of black and red smoke converged around the wound, obscuring it from her sight. By the time they disappeared all that remained of the injury was the hole in his shirt and the blood on her hands.

 Kore had been quite literally stunned into silence, never having had seen - or even imagined - anything of the sorts before. He chuckled, yet again, at her reaction. 

“Have you already figured out how you’ll pay me back?” He said - almost playfully. As expected, he was met with silence. He pushed him off of her and that seemed to bring her back to reality.

“What do you mean?” Kore asked.

“I saved your life and you took mine, it seems like you owe me something in return, does it not?”

She followed his line of logic but didn’t want to give the criminal anything so she stayed silent. Sylus smiled, he knew what game she was playing. He let the two of them bask in silence until she broke.

“Just let me go,” she finally said.

“Oh, Kitten,” he sighed disappointedly, “Do you know how many people are out there looking for you after your little show at The Nest?”

“Better off out there than in here with you,” Kore bit back.

“Are you sure about that, Sweetheart?” he spoke with such condescending certainty that Kore’s resolve started to falter. Sylus patiently watched as her brain weighed her options. When her shoulder deflated in defeat he knew he had won.

“Fine, what do you want?” Kore said dejectedly. She watched as her dejected tone brought a smile to his face - the damn smirk made her want to go for his neck.

“Resonate with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her resonance wasn’t working. No matter how much they had tried, Kore could not resonate with him. Although there had been a connection there, Sylus had felt it, it was muted as if there were a hundred brick walls blocking it. Now they were on their way to the only person who could fix it.

Riding his motorcycle typically would be enough to clear his head, but with Kore gripping onto him so tightly he couldn’t help but replay their interaction in his head. It was not how he had imagined it would be. Truth be told, it had upset him how she had looked at him with such unfamiliarity, it's not that he had expected her to remember everything but the blank stare she gave hurt.

There was also what she had said about her family, it was hard for him to believe that they were dead, although he couldn’t bring himself to feel any sympathy for Josephine, the news of Caleb’s death rattled him. He hadn’t bothered to correct her that it wasn’t him who did it, but she had been so hellbent he knew he would never be able to change her mind.

“Holy–! Are there no speed limits in the N109 Zone?” he heard Kore’s complaint, muffled by the wind, and chuckled a little to himself. To be honest, he had gone through that corner faster than he should have. He was already on edge, he hadn’t been sleeping well - or at all - since she got here. If he had half a mind he wouldn’t be driving, but these were special circumstances. He needed to get her fixed because, clearly, there is something wrong with her. 

With his reckless driving they get to the Workshop in no time. Even after he shut off the bike, Kore’s eyes were still pinned shut in fear. Sylus forced her arms off from around his waist and dismounted the motorcycle.

 “There’s no need to be dramatic. Now, get off,” he said to her. To his relief she didn’t protest and joined him as they walked to a large, abandoned looking building. Before Kore could reach for the door Sylus grabbed her arm, halting her in her tracks.

“If you want to stay out of trouble, behave yourself once we get inside, got it?” Sylus said, waiting for her nod before he opened the door.

“Go away, we’re closed,” a male voice said from deep in the building. Sylus chuckled at the insinuation and continued walking, dragging Kore along with him.

“I said we’re cl- Oh, Mr Sylus, welcome,” the man’s tone did a 180 when he realized who the intruder was. He had been busy working on a machine of some sort before they got there.

“You don’t normally do unannounced visits, what’s the occasion,” Jack asked. He seemed to notice Kore for the first time, after wiping his hands clean of grease he extended one out to her and said, “Hello, I’m Jack.”

 “No time for introductions. Something is wrong with her evol, fix her.” Sylus said gruffly before a dark smirk overtook his handsome face, “actually, I brought you a guinea pig. It is past time for the Evol Linkage Alteration Project to have a living test subject.”

Kore’s eyes widened, she was about to protest but when Sylus threw her a deadly glare she knew this was not a fight she was going to win. That didn’t stop her body from showing that now she was on high alert. Sylus nearly chuckled to himself when he noticed her scanning their surroundings for anything that could help her out of the situation.

“I'll see what I can do,” Jack nodded, walking over to an intimidating array of equipment, “I will have to run some tests first. Come over here, Miss.”

Sylus hoped that once whatever was wrong with her evol was fixed he could find out once and for all if she was the one he shared fragments of the same aether core with. He knew that typically aether cores, being as powerful as they were, were often split into multiple parts before being implanted. He was itching to know the truth, almost as much as he was itching for her not to hate him.

“What happened while I was away?” Sylus inquired in a calculated move.

While hooking Kore up to the machines, Jack said what Sylus already knew - what he wanted Kore to hear - that he wasn’t responsible for her family’s deaths. Jack, unknowingly, aided his case further by outright saying that he was the scapegoat for the attacks in Linkon. 

The entire time Jack spoke Sylus kept his eyes trained on Kore’s facial expressions, watching as they moved from uninterested to taken aback. He smiled lightly to himself, it seemed like it was working.

“Are you saying that someone else was behind the explosions?” Kore butted in. Her daring behavior was something that Sylus was still getting used to, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it.

“Oh dear, you look upset.” Sylus said, trying to keep the gloating tone from his voice, “I didn’t know that you were the type to swallow a lie that makes you feel better instead of looking for the truth. Although, I suppose I should have expected that from a hunter.”

Kore opened her mouth, clearly ready to fire something back at him when Jack spoke, “I’m afraid that she isn’t a suitable recipient. Her Evol Linkage is normal, only its strength has been suppressed.”

The news that her evol was suppressed didn’t surprise Sylus in the slightest, he had been expecting that to be the case after the third time they couldn’t resonate. He was pretty sure that he knew the answer to his question but decided to ask anyway, “Did someone put in a suppressor?”

“Nothing that I could find,” Jack said, before breaking eye contact, “I don’t think it’s physical.”

“I can resonate with others just fine. I don’t know what they issue with you is,” Kore butted in, yet again. Sylus’s nostrils flared, she was getting on his nerves. Suddenly, an idea formed in his mind. 

“And that thing I asked you to alter… How’s that?” He questioned, hinting at the wanderer he had gotten his hands on. It was a risk he was willing to take, plus he would be right there if anything were to happen.

“Are you sure about this, Mr. Sylus,” Jack asked worriedly. Sylus nodded. Jack pressed some buttons and a door opened revealing a large wanderer.

Kore’s entire body showcased the shock and horror of seeing the subdued wanderer. He hadn’t come here with the intent of seeing how she fought, but it couldn’t hurt to see how she reacted to an opponent, especially when she was caught off guard.

Kore was still covered in his blood from when she had shot him. That won’t do, he thought to himself, the wanderer had been trained not to touch him and her covered in his blood would confuse the creature. With a simple wave of his hand, his evol cleansed her of the dried blood. 

“You said that it was only her strength that was suppressed, right?,” Sylus said, entirely too calm for the situation, “She just needs a little stimulation then.”

The wanderer was then let loose on Kore. Sylus watched her struggle - it was almost as if she was completely out of her element. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was a fluke or if someone on the UNICORNS team was really this incompetent at their job. Torn between being disappointed at her lackluster job and proud that the wanderer was really able to hold its own against an “elite” hunter.

It was quickly realized that she was not ready for this level of opponent, if the fight continued any longer she would be killed. Jack expressed his concern and Sylus had the wanderer called off, disappointed in the outcome of the experiment.

“It’s a shame your evol has deteriorated into its current state,” Sylus sighed. It used to be incredible, he thought

“What the actual fuck was that Sylus?” Kore was fuming, Jack winced at her words, he was far too close for her scream.

“Resonate with me,” Sylus said, grabbing her hand.

“No! Why would I resonate with you of all people,” Kore protested, wrenching her hand out from his.

“Just do what I tell you to for one second,” Sylus countered

“I will never listen to you

Much to Sylus’s disappointment, their connection was even weaker than it had been before.

“Run the tests again, fix her,” he instructed Jack, who looked like he was debating saying something, “What is it Jack?”

“There might be another reason why she can’t resonate,” Jack said looking uncomfortable, “...her evol is special. It utilizes the waves generated by the human brain’s magnetic field. It is possible that her brain’s magnetic field produces repulsive waves against you. That is likely why she can’t resonate with you?”

Sylus gave him a get-to-the-point glare and Jack fumbled with his hands, “To make a long story short… on a subconscious level, either she’s rejecting you, scared of you, or… disgusted by you. Even if she were to undergo alteration, you wouldn’t be able to resonate with her so long as she’s still hostile towards you.”

That felt like a punch to the gut to Sylus, even if she had forgotten him, he hoped that she wouldn’t hate him – and hate him so much that it prevented them from resonating. He was quick to suppress the emotion though, never letting the impartial mask slip.

“And Mr Sylus,” Jack said, snapping him back from thought, “if we were to go through with the alteration and it were to fail, she would be completely ruined. We need to address the root of the cause before we can go any further.

“By the way! I have an evol stabilizer in the storage cabinet. I can make her use it and we’ll see if that helps,” Jack said before pulling Kore away.

As soon as the pair left the room, Sylus’s phone began to ring. He picked it up and Luke was on the other end, “Mr Sylus, Sherman’s men attacked sooner than we anticipated.”

Sylus sighed. Great, another thing for him to have on his plate, he thought. He had Luke provide him with what information they had and it turned out that the attack was nearby. Sylus wasn’t originally intending on abandoning Kore at the worksop, but now he had no choice, he’d come back for her later.

Sylus instructed Mephisto to keep an eye on her before starting back up his bike and riding away. However, he wasn’t counting on her to find her way to the scene of the crime.

a/n: idk why i like writing sleep deprived characters, we gonna try and get them on a consistent sleep schedule soon (not really lol)

[chimcess]

Birdie Shoppe || pjm (XI)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 12.1k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the north and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Birdie, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the 123rd Birdie, a young girl who was given her position too early and asked by the goddess herself to fulfil a task none had ever done before- become the Grand Witch of the Foxglove pack. Now a woman, Y/N is revered as the most loved and powerful Birdie of all time, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: Long-hair Jimin (yes, this is a warning), Strong language, Violence, Mentions of blood, Descriptions of blood, Descriptions of death, Blindness, Talks of abuse, ANGST, PTSD symptoms, Sexism, Misogyny, War talks, Talks of possible death A/N: We’re officially at the beginning of the next act. I have many, many plans for this universe of mine and I’m so happy to share this world with you.

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Opening my eyes, I could feel just how tired my arms were. Every inch of my body was heavy and weighed down by some invisible force. Looking around me, I knew that I was in some sort of medical setting. Surrounded by bodies, I closed my eyes once more and breathed a sigh of relief. 

I was alive. I was free. I made it.

Moans of pain filled the room, but I could not figure out where they were coming from. Everyone else was either quiet or talking in hushed whispers with their loved ones. I opened my eyes again. 

Forcing myself up, I groaned in agony as I did so. My head still had some dull aches. My bones cracked and popped with each movement I made. Glancing around me, I was alone. I could only hope it was due to others being too busy to stay holed up in the medical unit with me and not because far more serious tragedies had been met.

Twisting and turning, I slowly stretched and relaxed the tense muscles in my body. The headache lingered, but it became more bearable as the time went by. The woman beside me woke up a few minutes later. Most of her body was scarred from burns. She had been caught in a fire when she was evacuating her children from the village. 

I had been out for two days. The elves had not come back since their failed attempt at a siege. According to the woman, they had gone to Northorn. It sparked something in my mind, but I could not figure out what.

Testing the waters, I tried to stand and was successful. I was happy with how quickly my body recovered from the drain. It would have taken much longer before. I guessed it had something to do with the power that had been taken from me. I was able to regain it much better now. Looking down at the woman, I frowned.

“Would you like for me to heal you?” I asked.

She shook her head, “It’s a sign of honor to have lived. I will wear them with pride.”

My own scars came to mind, and my frown deepened. I had never thought of them that way. My thoughts then shifted to Shiloh and it almost brought me to my knees. I never got the chance to say goodbye. Pushing my tears away, I told myself that I would give myself time to grieve later.

“Have you seen Alpha Jimin?” I asked her, willing my voice to stay calm.

She smiled at me, the side of her face that was burned far too tight and red to lift with the other. She had a beautiful smile once, and I felt rage like I never had before. I wished I could rip apart the elf that had made this happen to her. 

“He’s here most of the time,” She replied. “The Alpha called upon him this morning for an important meeting. He should be back soon.”

I nodded and made up my mind to go and look for others in the ward. I asked her about Thelma and Yoongi, but she paid little mind to the witches. They had been gone by the time she had come to. Settling on finding my friends first, I began the treacherous task of walking through the bodies.

Many were badly injured, missing limbs, or burned beyond recognition. Some children had gone blind from spells, others were paralyzed and being worked on constantly by the quietus in order to reverse it, and some were so badly injured they were only receiving pain relief until they died. It became too hard to look at and so I stopped. Staring straight ahead, I forced myself from looking down at the cots littered around me.

“I’m happy you’re awake,” Said a voice from behind me.

I turned with great care and found Cadoc standing there.

The shadow surrounding him was gone now, and replaced by gentle white smoke that danced. It was shocking just how different he looked when he was fighting. Now, his skin had life and flushed in the sun, the pale color less like marble, and his eyes were a normal blue color. His hair was still midnight and hung just at his shoulders. It danced in the breeze that surrounded him. He smiled at me.

“Cadoc,” I greeted him, unable to return his enthusiasm. “I’m happy to see you.”

He approached me cautiously and began to look over my body. His hands felt like a gentle breeze in the fall, his fingers as soft as leaves, and I could hardly feel any pressure as he methodically went over me. I was appreciative of the caution, and I belatedly realized that I was unaware of what they thought was best. Maybe I was not free to leave after all.

“You seem fine,” He said, his strange echoing voice all the same. “I would refrain from any and all magic use unless necessary.”

I nodded obediently.

“Thank you again,” I managed a small grin. “I appreciate you coming to my aid in the field.”

He nodded at me, “You saved my life. I thought it was only fair.”

Nodding, I turned away.

“Before you leave,” He called out. I turned back around. “Sam would like to see you. I think she’s quite fond of you.”

This time, I smiled.

“After I see my loved ones, I’ll be sure to make some time for her.”

Cadoc chuckled, “Goodluck. My sister is not known for her patience. My condolences to your family over the loss.”

I nodded, looking at the grass under my feet. Cordelia… Oh, Wendy would be completely beside herself. I knew I needed to get to them quickly. We should be together right now.

“Was it only Cordelia?” I asked, sniffling.

“She was the only one who died,” He replied. “Your friend is still blind, one was badly injured and still asleep, and another was burned on her leg.”

“Who’s here?” I demanded, looking back up.

I wanted to see them before I left.

“His name is Taejin, I think.”

My eyes closed on their own. I needed to get to Seokjin and make sure he was alright. His mother had to be in hysterics by now. Torn between seeing Taejin and going to comfort his family, my body moved on its own to go back into the tent. A hand on my arm stopped me.

Cadoc was pressed very closely against my body, his strange figure formed around my own, and I had to suppress a shiver. He was ice cold. I felt his lips brush against my ear as he whispered, his body far too close to mine. Within a second, he completely vanished from sight.

“They’re here.”

I turned my head towards his mouth, waiting for him to say more.

He elaborated, “I’m not sure who it is, but there’s someone in this village working with the elves.”

“How do you know that?” My voice was hardly audible, lips unmoving.

“I’ll explain later.”

I nodded. We were not in the best place for this conversation. Pulling away from his embrace, I pulled a face to make my pause look less suspicious. It was not difficult to look heartbroken when all I saw was devastation. What felt like fingers grazed my cheek.

“Meet me in your meadow tonight,” He urged.

I nodded my head once and hoped he understood what it meant. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, the cold chill that surrounded me was gone. Pushing the conversation to the back of my mind, I started walking once more. Whatever the quietus was talking about would have to wait until I was finished with my loved ones. 

I found Taejin a few minutes later after asking anyone who was well enough to guide me to his place. He was still asleep, a large gash on his face that was red and raised, but I was happy that his breathing was normal. I was sure he would wake up and be alright, but the scars from that night would haunt all of us forever. Cordelia’s face came to me again and I shivered. I could only hope that would be our only fall- it was the only one the witches could handle. I looked at him for a few minutes more before turning to leave the medical tent. I had a family who needed me right now and I would have to trust that the team here would be enough for Taejin. 

Stepping into the daylight, I was shocked by the desolation. Everything had been destroyed. Not a single building had been left in-tact and I knew many of the villagers would be unable to fix their homes. They were far too injured. Choking back a sob, I reminded myself of what I needed to do. I could fall apart later, right now my family needs me to be strong. 

Eyes followed me with rapt attention as I passed a small group of villagers. I recognized none of them, but I assumed they knew who I was. I never was able to learn the names of the wolves in the village outside of the ones I had helped through the change. The women were older, rounder, and probably no longer shifted if I had to guess. Looking ahead, I pointedly ignored them. I had no time for local gossip.

“They’re in the Park house,” One of the women called out. Looking at the group once more, I straighten my back. None of them were unkind, in fact, I could only find grief in their eyes. I did not know who they lost, but I hoped they would be able to recover. “It’s the only house left down the main road to your right. Be careful, there’s a lot of debris.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

“No,” Another woman cried, her eyes as red as her sunburnt face. “Thank you. Alpha Taehyung told us what you did.”

I smiled at the group sadly before walking away. The praise did not feel nice. It should have, but it did nothing to settle my unease. None of this should have happened. I should have said something. I cringed at that thought and stopped walking to pull myself together. Not here. Not now. Later.

The house was easy to find. Surrounded by ashes and uninhabitable houses, the Park home stood as a shining beacon of hope within it all. Of course, the little house was worse for wear. The entire yard had been scorched by the flames that surrounded it, most of the walls burnt and weak, and there was a hole where you could see straight through into the home. I could see Seokjin sitting at a table with Wendy in his lap. They were talking but I was still too far away to hear anything. 

Deciding to use the front door, I frowned at the burnt wood. The house must have been the last one to go up in flames. I knocked and waited. Inside, everything stilled and a singular set of steps echoed. I braced myself for an onslaught of hugs and kisses from everyone, the never ending tears, and having to keep myself in one piece. I was a rock in a river and I would do whatever I needed in order to calm everyone inside.

Callisto answered the door. Her eyes were heavy with bags underneath them and her chocolate hair clipped back messily. Despite her obvious exhaustion, her green eyes lit up as she took me in. Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around my neck and tried out in what sounded like relief.

“Oh, thank Goddess,” She cried, her voice thick with emotion. “My brother will be so happy to see you. Oh, we were so worried.”

Hesitantly, I hugged the young girl back. She was so small and underweight I felt uncomfortable holding her too tightly. I could imagine her bones were just as frail as she was. She was off of me as quickly as she scooped me into her arms, and took my hand in hers as if we had known one another for years. She made my presence known so cheerfully I felt embarrassed. No one had been this excited to see me in my entire life.

“Birdie,” It was Wendy, her eyes wild, who spotted me first. 

I ran to her immediately. The sea witch crumbled in my arms, sobs making her entire body shake as she held onto me for dear life. Her hair had been cut, the blonde strands ending at her shoulders instead of flowing down her back, and I could still feel how dirty they were. She was frail, every bit as shaken as I felt, and seemed frenzied in her attack. I did not know if I should tell her that I had been the one to find Cordelia or not. I thought of her face again, her green eyes with their thousand yard stare, and a flash of red broke through. Her hair had always been ostentatious, frizzled and going every which way with a curtain of bangs that hid a fair amount of her face. That night they were caked in dirt, the orange glowing red under the fire, and stuck to her skin like leather. I shivered and held Wendy tighter. I prayed she had never seen her mentor like that.

“She-she-” She gasped, her pain piercing my heart.

“I know,” I croaked, running my fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm her. “I know, Wendy Bird.”

Looking over her shoulder now, I was pleased to see the rest of the witches huddled around a small fireplace. All of them looked at us now aside from Yoongi. His eyes were unfocused still and I remembered Cadoc telling me he was still blinded. Whispering to Wendy, I slowly removed her vice grip around my neck so I could go to them all. Seokjin was standing beside us and took her from me easily. He patted my head with his large hand and held the broken woman close. She was falling apart right before my eyes and I would not be able to comfort her. I would surely fall apart, too.

I went to Hoji first. Her husband was ill in the medical tent and I was sure she was frazzled. Jin would be too busy mourning the loss of our friend to fuss over his father. Especially since we all knew it was a matter of time before he woke up. Cordelia would never wake up. She was so heavy. I shuddered at the thought.

Heji reached out to me from beside her sister and smiled sadly. They had always looked the same, their faces virtually indistinguishable, but this moment they were the same woman to me. They were haunted, their eyes dull and sorrowful, and there would be no one to keep the other in check. No sarcastic comments followed by a gentle chastising. Right now, they were one woman mourning a shared loss. 

Yoona was at her son’s side and pointed me in Thelma’s direction. Taking a look at Yoongi, he was hurt and sad, but I was not sure what else could be happening inside of his head. His eyes had always been so expressive. I nodded at her and went to the woman beside her. Hyun-Jin was missing from the group and she whispered that he was asleep.

“Thank you,” Thelma whispered fiercely, almost like she was afraid of talking any louder. “You kept him away from the brunt of it all.”

I nodded but said nothing. Thelma did not reach for me like the others. She was never one to rely on others, and I knew how devastated she was. Cordelia was a good friend of hers, one she had known for many years, and she was not there to help her. Thelma had a self-blaming streak. I would talk with her later but for now I was content with letting her feel however she wanted.

I thought of Shiloh again and sighed heavily. I was so angry with myself for not getting a proper goodbye. I missed her so dearly, so acutely, and I could feel the hole in my heart she left with her leaving. I would again have no closure. Unlike Aldara, however, Shiloh and I had fought together fiercely and made our peace in the forest. She was safe and back where she belonged. It gave me little comfort.

“Y/N?” Yoongi called out, raising a hesitant hand.

I was at his side quickly. He looked so much younger right now. I reached out and took his hand in my own.

“I’m here, Yoon.”

Reaching out his other hand, I took it with ease. Another oddity. Yoongi never offered physical affection like this before. Looking at his face I frowned. I guess he had no choice at the moment. I squeezed them comfortingly.

“Are you alright?” His mother asked, squeezing my shoulder. “We were worried but Cadoc said you’d be fine with rest.”

I nodded but spoke for Yoongi’s benefit.

“I’m fine,” I whispered. I understood Thelma’s hesitance to break the silence. It could bring more unknowns and that was a frightening idea. “Physically speaking. I don’t really know outside of that.”

Yoongi’s grip on my hands tightened.

“How are you feeling, Yoon?” I asked him.

He shook his head, “I’m scared.”

I inched closer to him. Our knees touched, both of us kneeling on the floor, and I took one of my hands back. I smoothed down his bed-head and caressed his cheek. He reminded me of the little boy from the meadow who cried when he saw bees. I felt the tears falling from my eyes and surrendered to my pain. I could cry, if only a little bit, right now. Yoongi would always catch my tears.

“Me too,” I admitted, voice so soft I was not sure if anyone heard me.

“Thelma told us about your visions,” I heard Hoji say. “We’re all sorry you had to deal with this alone.”

I shook my head, the force of my guilt rearing its ugly head.

“I saw nothing. I knew something bad was happening, but I was blind and stupid. I should have said something. I should have-”

“We are all responsible,” Thelma interrupted. “I take full responsibility for you keeping your mouth shut. It was my choice to do so because of my own certainty. I should have known better than to assume anything.”

“And we all knew you were lying about Aldara’s book,” Yoona chimed in. “All of us knew you were hiding something, Thelma. If we’re playing the blame game then you can charge us all.”

“But Cordelia,” I choked.

“It’s not your fault,” Wendy cried, her voice small and weak.

Turning to look at her, I knew I was doing a horrible job at keeping everything at bay. My heartache was too much and everything felt like it was closing in on me. I would have to tell Jimin that I lied to him. I’d have to tell him his village was in ruin because of me. I’d have to become a traitor now. Taehyung might as well throw me to the elves because of my mistakes. And yet, I knew they would not. Taehyung would be understanding, his comfort a warm blanket around me. Sol would be happy it led her mate back to her and so things would naturally become alright between us. Jimin adored me, but would he be able to look at me the same way?

“The elves were coming,” Hoji said, her voice frail and hoarse. “They would have attacked regardless of you telling these people anything. It wasn’t like any of you were on good terms. They probably would have attacked you the moment you stepped foot into this place. Lord knows those wolves would have had a fight on their hands.”

I tried to let the words sink in and ease my guilt. It never happened. Having had enough of this pity party, I took a deep breath and readied for my next plan. I had to see Jimin and he was with Taehyung at the palace.

“I’m going to check on the others,” My voice was stronger than I felt. “I came here straight away and I think Jimin will worry if he sees me missing.”

Thelma nodded, “Will you be back?”

“Later,” I assured her.

Callisto had made herself scarce. The human girl was nowhere in sight, but I shrugged it off. She may have known we would need some space. Saying my brief goodbyes, I went out of the front door. The brunette was out here and talking with a young man.

He was huge, towering over the tiny woman, his muscles massive and bulging. He was very tanned, skin reminding me of a bronze medal, that contrasted completely with his light hair. It was a strange mixture of colors ranging from a taupe brown, gentle great, and stark white. Cropped short and slicked back from his face, the man smiled down at Callisto and it stopped me dead in my tracks. His smile was wide, his teeth perfectly straight, and a small dimple appeared on his left cheek. The way his eyes smiled with him made me want to run as fast as I could toward the palace. I was looking at Jimin’s younger brother who looked everything and nothing like him.

Seeming to notice me, the wolf’s attention snapped to me straight away. Callisto, following his gaze, gave me a blinding smile. Outside, her eyes looked more blue than they had before and I belatedly realized they were a strange hazel. The man still seemed weary of me but did not immediately question why I was at his house.

“Birdie?” He called out, his voice deeper and rougher than Jimin’s. His eyes were also lighter, a strange greenish-brown. “What are you doing here?”

I guessed he had little reason to go to the medical ward recently. From the look on Callisto’s face, she was agitated with him and the way he was speaking. I quickly put things together from there. Jimin’s brother had always known about us, even before we had gotten together, but that did not mean anyone else had. Out here things were much more likely to be overheard. I was filled with gratitude at the small gesture even if I thought it was no longer necessary. Taehyung was horrible at keeping his mouth shut and my entire family would think it odd to hide something this important. Jimin himself may want to announce it in order to establish a connection between wolves and witches.

“I needed to see them before going to the palace,” I replied. “You must be Jihyun, then?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face. He was looking me up and down and I felt self conscious. I had yet to see myself in a mirror though I doubted I looked presentable. Callisto slapped his chest this time and hissed at him to stop. I chuckled.

“Jimin spoke about you a lot,” I continued.

Jihyun looked away bashfully. “I’ve heard plenty about you as well.”

“You should be going,” Callisto said, giving her mate a look. “My brother is going to be so happy to see you up and walking around.”

Jihyun laughed at this and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. Biting my lip, I nodded and started walking again. Callisto again hit the wolf and chastised him for being “such a boy.” I laughed gently and met Jihyun’s melodramatic pout with a grin. 

“I swear,” She groaned. “You’re always so unencumbered by the thought process.”

Jihyun laughed, “Don’t start pulling out the Namjoon insults on me.”

She rolled her eyes, “If you were Namjoon, I’d been far more likely to punch you in the face. Broken hand be damned.”

The two of them faded as I got further away. They were an odd couple. Obviously very much in love, and childish to an extent, but it still brought a smile to my face. At least two of us could find a sense of humor right now. At least they still had each other. I hoped their mother was fine, but I had yet to see her.

A few villagers were beginning to move debris from the roads and put back together a few small buildings. I saw Namjoon amongst the builders and kept walking. I had little to say to the wolf right now and he was busy. Up ahead, Jungkook was throwing things out. It was a rare occurrence to see the omega outside of the palace’s heavily guarded walls, even rarer still away from Sol’s side, but I could imagine they had some distance now that Taehyung was back home. Jungkook no longer needed to shadow and protect Sol anymore. 

I wondered about Hoseok and Hyuna. I trusted Shiloh to heal him, but I had heard nothing about them since I woke up. The witches would have known something, but I was not sure if they would have been thinking of my friends. They were nothing to any of them so the news would be tragic but nothing worth mentioning. 

I climbed the hill to get to the palace with great care. I would have liked to use magic but I was respecting Cadoc’s wishes. No magic unless necessary. It would be for the best. I remembered the conversation the elves were having in the forest and quickened my steps. If they were going to attack Northorn and then four days later come back to Bangtan I needed to know if a siege was already underway. I would use nothing, I decided, my magic would be for fighting purposes only.

Someone spotted me climbing and came to my aid immediately. The young woman shifted, her gray and brown fur looked pretty in the sun, and offered her back to me. The rest of the way up, which would have taken me at least fifteen minutes, was spanned in three. The wolf girl was massive.

She let me down before making her way back down the hill. She had to have been helping the others dealing with the destruction and I felt bad for taking her away from her duties. The girl had not seemed to mind, however, so I decided to let it go. I had far more pressing matters to attend to anyway.

There were a few wolves guarding the outside of the palace. One of them looked at me, but paid little attention once they recognized me. I was able to walk inside without a hitch, the doors to the palace heavy and loud. 

The air still smelled of soot, and I was thrust into a swarm of people running around the palace floors. I had only been here during the night and never saw the help that shuffled through the halls. Now, that help was busy scrubbing walls, cleaning fabrics, and grabbing documents. Wrinkling my nose, I did not expect the level of disgust I felt. These people should be taking care of their homes- not polishing these stone floors.

“Can I help you?” I heard a gentle voice call out to me.

She was a large woman, three heads bigger than me, and built like a bear. Her body was muscular and broad, and I found her short, silky, black hair beautiful. Giving me a small smile, her smile lines and wrinkles revealed her to be older than most in the village. I was happy she had survived the fight. Many of the elderly would not.

“I’m looking for Alpha Jimin,” I replied.

The woman nodded, her face grim and evenly set. I had a feeling I would not be seeing him anytime soon. Figuring I would exhaust all of my options before letting her lead me out, I introduced myself as well as my title. The maid jumped, her fear palpable, and a pang of anger hit me. What had they done to this woman?

“I’m so sorry,” She rushed, her eyes pleading. “I did not know.”

I waved away her concerns.

“There’s no crime,” I soothed. She visibly relaxed and I grit my teeth. I would need to discuss this with Taehyung. No one would be made to fear me so long as I had anything to say about it. “Please, I need to see him.”

She nodded, “Of course, Uxor Park.”

“Excuse me?”

Seemingly embarrassed, the woman tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She started walking up the grand staircase and I followed her closely. 

“My apologies,” She spoke once we were at the top. She kept her voice low and I struggled to hear her. “Alpha Jimin has announced to the elders of your bond, but I forgot you have been recovering from battle. Uxor is the word for wife and will be what you are called from this moment forward.”

I frowned, “What’s your name?”

“Sloan, daughter of Ammon.”

I hummed, “Well, Sloan, I have a name and I would prefer to be called by it.”

Sloan looked scandalized. I was unsure of pack etiquette on this level. I had never cared much about it before. Thinking about Jimin, I recalled the nickname he used for me often and asked the maid what it meant.

“It means ‘loved friend,’” She replied, pleasantly. “We use it when talking of our closest loved ones. It’s a platonic nickname.”

The word platonic was distasteful. I had hoped it meant something more. Knowing Jimin would have called any of the copiae amica put a bad taste in my mouth. Seeming to notice my discomfort, Sloan smiled my way.

“It is something the Alpha would take seriously. I’ve never heard him use nicknames for anyone outside of his family, and never amica. He might find other words too intense before a bonding ceremony.”

I cocked an eyebrow at the large woman who chuckled fondly. The tension from earlier seemed to be gone now and I hoped she knew I would never raise my voice to her. I would not put it past Ahn to lay hands on their workers. He was a vile little man.

“He’s a very traditional man,” Sloan continued. “He’s been going about your union in the most courteous way imaginable, and had refused to publicly announce your partnership until you woke up.”

This did please me. It would have been unimaginably difficult this morning if the village had known I stole the heart of their strongest alpha. The group of women seemed kind enough, and his family I had met were going out of their way for my people, yet I still felt anxiety. I had seen how quickly they turned on Taehyung.

“Even knowing how careful he is, I'm surprised the bond has not been complete,” Sloan spoke away without much care if I replied or not. I could imagine she never gossiped with people outside of the maids. “He really is such a gentleman.”

“What are you talking about?” I finally spoke again, entertained by the woman. The young wolves always seemed uptight regarding sex and their rituals, but Sloan’s age made her less self conscious. 

“I know many wolves,” Sloan’s voice dropped even lower now. “Most are dreadful mates. Men are raised to believe they own their wives, but times are changing. Alpha Jimin is one of the best men I know.”

“You know him well?”

“No,” She admitted, “But he’s one of the few wolves who have never laid a hand on me.”

Instantly, I felt a kinship to this woman. While I was never hit, no one had ever even thought of laying a finger to me, I did understand what it felt like to be trapped. Here she was in her prison and she could find little solace in her place in society. I thought of Ahn again and wanted nothing more than to kill him myself. If he was even alive.

“Is the vermin alive?” I sneered, anger getting the best of me. 

“Ahn?” She hissed, her fear palpable. Then just as quickly she relaxed. “No, he’s dead. It is only Chief Kim, Namjoon’s father, and Chief Bo. She has been struggling greatly. She lost a child.”

I felt a great amount of guilt again. That poor woman. I tried picking her face out in my mind, but could not remember who she was. There were three women on the council table, but Ahn never allowed them to speak. He must have been one of those dreadful mates Sloan had been speaking about. I never disliked the man, had never really liked him either, but my loyalties to Taehyung would always sway my bias now. If Chief Kim wanted a problem then I would be sure he knew exactly who he would be up against.

I thought of Namjoon and knew my worries would be unnecessary once things started up again. We had all lost something, and from Namjoon’s apologies I would hope his father would honor his son’s wishes. I would have to thank the alpha for helping me during the fight. 

“Taehyung is a good man,” Sloan was rushed now and I assumed we were approaching the others now. “A very, very good man. Sol is lucky.”

I could not agree with her more. After spending as much time with the boy as I had there was no denying his potential. What he lacked in aggression he made up for in heart. Sure, he was gullible and prone to random outbursts that led to nowhere, but I knew what he had inside of him. The way he fought was only one facet of his life. When I thought of his strength the way he held Sol in his arms came to mind. She was as precious to him as silk, and he made sure to hold her tightly enough to stop her from hurting others.

“However,” Her voice was practically gone from how softly she spoke now. I had to lean into her and tap into the animal within me to make out everything she said. “His sweetness will be used against him in these coming months. Tell me, Birdie, do you believe in him?”

I answered without hesitation, “More than anyone in Lustra.”

“Even more than your Jimin?”

I smiled, “Taehyung will give your people something Jimin never will.”

“And what’s that?”

I looked at her now. I had a feeling I would be in this place more than ever, and I would want to keep her close to me. She was a comfort that I never had. We understood each other. 

“Peace of mind.”

I meant every word. If Jimin had been alpha I was sure this entire village would have been to Northorn by now. The fight would have never ended. Everything would have revolved around war. Jimin would give them strength and hope, but his own desire to end things as quickly as possible would place people in danger. No one would be prepared to do the right thing- wait and plan. I doubted any of the witches would be here either. I would certainly still be in my cottage.

Taehyung was methodical. He always came off as goofy or passive, but I knew better. Those eyes saw everything and information was precious to him. He listened to your every word and took it to heart. He would want to be sure as many people could be helped, that those who can’t help themselves would be hidden, and look at every avenue of support he could. He was able to get around my love’s vital flaw- pride. Taehyung had plenty of it, but he was as humble as they come. I smiled fondly thinking of him. 

I was so happy we had made it through this.

“What happens now?” I asked, a large set of wooden doors coming into view as we turned into a quiet hallway.

“You will meet with the council as a new Oxur,” Sloan began, a professionalism in her voice that had faded as we spoke now back. I could sense her nerves as we got closer to the room. “After that you will begin planning your wedding. Of course, with everything going on that may be postponed or rushed. You and Bo will discuss your options at some point.

“You will live in this palace as things play out. You and Jimin will not be permitted to be alone together without a chaperone present. Again, things might be different with the fallout. Ahn made these rules but Taehyung will likely ignore them. He and the Luna wedded yesterday to establish their bond as quickly as possible. Bo was not happy but understood. Kim just wanted to be sure the Luna was feeling better since being near him once more.”

I nodded, trying to keep up. The strange need for virgins here was odd. I had never met a wolf who had actually waited for their wedding to bond with their mate. Hoseok and Hyuna were inseparable from what I heard. Sol and Taehyung had no choice, but from her reaction to him I was sure they would be on one another the second the were alone. Jimin, however, had kept his distance. I smiled. He was trying to protect my honor, even if I thought the whole process was dripping in misogyny.

“Neither of them are angry about your union,” She continued, speaking quickly. “In fact, Chief Kim was quite pleased. He believes your children will be very strong and that will be vital if this war continues.

“You and Jimin must meet with his family to discuss arrangements after the wedding. Oftentimes, a woman will be asked to become a servant to the family for the first year of marriage in exchange for a lifetime of loyalty. Mi-Jeong will not do that to you. She is a very good, strong woman and will be happy you have made her son happy.

“I will say that she can be a wildcard. Quick tempered and straight to the point. I adore her but she can come off abrasive. It’s why she and your sister-in-law get along so well. You must call them your mater and glos until they say otherwise. Again, I don’t believe they are too concerned with this but it will be helpful in showing respect.”

I struggled to keep up with the rules. Was this what Sol had been taught her entire life? I scoffed. Taehyung could care less about how “lady like” the girl was, and I was sure Jimin cared even less about my own manners. All of this shit was made by some man who wanted to control every aspect of his peoples’ lives. Sloan grinned at me. I doubted she saw the need for these ideals either.

“The most important thing will be your intentions. You will be one of the most important women in the village now, and everyone will have to trust and respect you for this to ever work. I believe many see what you have done for us and will be easily swayed. I cannot promise all will be satisfied, but this war is more important than petty things like this.”

I could only pray Sloan was right. Reaching the door, Sloan gestured for me to be quiet as she knocked. The gentle chatter inside ceased. After announcing my presence, the room exploded. I grinned when I heard Sol’s voice over them all begging to be the one to greet me. 

“I need to apologize,” She stated, already deciding she had won this fight. “Besides, you’ve both had her long enough.”

The door opened with a loud whoosh. The heavy doors seemed to weigh nothing under the Luna’s hands. Sol was glowing, her golden skin plump and dewy, and I saw the sparkle back in her brown eyes. A huge smile on her face, Sol wasted little time running into my body, her arms wrapping around me tightly. I hugged the girl back, my face hot from the attention. Sloan stood beside us and did not utter a word.

I would be fixing that.

“I’m so sorry,” Sol exclaimed, practically shaking in her excitement. She was so happy, so overjoyed that it was difficult to believe a war was happening in Lustra. I wondered just how sheltered she was being in here. “I can’t believe I scratched you.”

I scoffed, “There’s nothing to forgive. That was the least important thing that happened.”

Sol pouted, “I still needed to apologize. You’ve done too much for me to be treated that way.”

I hoped my eyes could convey just how much I understood what she meant. I did not need her apologies, did not want them, and I would never speak of this incident again. I took Taehyung in because I wanted to, and no one would be indebted to me as far as I was concerned. To her I had saved her entire universe. To me I had harbored a fugitive because it was the right thing to do.

“Enough about that,” I waved her off. “I’m here to see Jimin.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath, but shrugged it off. I hadn’t said anything wrong according to our relationship. If Jimin had an issue, then we would talk about it. Until then, I was unbothered by the thoughts of others. 

“I’d like to be excused now.”

Sol was momentarily forgotten as she clung to my side. He was so tired. His voice was rugged and slow and so, so defeated. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and kiss his nose. I knew that would be too far in this place, but I did untangle myself from Sol to get closer to him.

“After,” The deep, masculine voice was not to be argued with. “It will only take a few moments, Alpha.”

Finally stepping into the room, I felt better with Jimin in sight. His hair was tied back so I could see his wilted expression with full clarity. There would be no hiding from me right now. I wanted to rush to his side and let him know that I was fine. Catching Taehyung’s eyes, I held myself back. This would be quick.

Raising to his feet, Taehyung bowed to me. I bowed back, knowing that we would not hug again. It was disrespectful to do so, and he would want to be sure his mate would be comfortable with that level of familiarity.

Jimin stayed seated but his eyes never left me. This would be difficult for him. The two of us had gone through hell a few days ago, and I had not held him since. A gentle voice called out to me.

“It’s so wonderful to see you alive Birdie,” An elderly woman, who I could only guess was Chief Bo, greeted. “The Council was beginning to worry.”

I gave the woman a small smile.

“I am quite well,” I assured. 

“We are grateful for your service,” The voice from before said.

Turning around, I was greeted by an older man. His hair was going gray and lines had become more pronounced. It took one look to know this was Namjoon’s father. They shared the same mono-lidded eyes, both of them just as serious and stoic as the other, but that was where the similarities ended. I could only imagine how his mother looked and the strength of those genes.

“I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of a formal introduction,” Chief Kim approached and bowed deeply. I returned the gesture. 

“I am Kim Yong-Seok, Namjoon’s father. I’ve served this council since the time of the previous Birdie, and I am honored to have fought alongside you.”

“I am Y/N,” I replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chief Kim.”

The man sat down in one of the many chairs in the room. There was a large table in the middle of it all, but no one seemed interested in the papers on it. I stayed standing. I had not noticed Sol’s return to the room and grinned. She was curled in Taehyung’s lap not listening to a word we were saying. I was very jealous and my patience was thinning. Jimin had still not said a word.

“I would like to tell you how much I appreciate you for taking Alpha Taehyung in,” The Chief continued. “My son was not acting rationally, and he had many voices in his ear, but I tried to make him see reason. Ahn was the one who took the letter you sent him. Chief Bo found it in his things yesterday morning.”

My jaw clenched. The man was dead and I would try not to speak ill of him right now. Everyone was mourning and my anger would solve nothing. It still did not sit well with me that either one of these elders lived. They could not shift anymore and would be easy targets for the elves. I had heard little of them before and Namjoon had said everyone was being irrational. Not once had he talked of his father or this Chief Bo. I did not trust these two and I thought back to Cadoc.

We had a spy amongst us.

The conversation the elves had came back to me as well, and I knew I needed to say something. Aldara had said I needed to find Naida, whoever that may be, and hopefully it would lead me to answers. I decided I would need to talk with Cadoc about that later. I glanced at Jimin and bit my lip. Sneaking away may be a challenge.

If Sloan was right then it would not be, but Ahn was the one in charge of these rules. I did not know Kim or Bo well enough to say if they felt similarly. I heard Bo shifting behind me but said nothing. She did not talk very much.

“I understand,” I would keep those thoughts to myself. “All is forgiven. I actually have some things to discuss if that would be alright with you.”

The man nodded.

“I overheard the elves talking when I went to find Jimin’s party out in the woods,” I sighed when I heard Bo’s noise of disapproval. She was uncomfortable with the way I addressed Jimin it seemed. I ignored her. 

“They were speaking in a very old language that I don’t speak fluently. Unfortunately, I could only pick out a few words but I put things together. They mentioned moving to attack Northorn and 4 days after they would come back to Bangtan.”

“Four days after what?” Bo’s voice startled me.

I shrugged, “I can’t say for sure, but it would have to be if they were successful in the siege.”

“So, 4 days after they take Northorn they are coming back?” Taehyung clarified. 

“Again, I can’t say for sure. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Finally, he spoke. “You’re not infallible. Thank you for telling us what you do know.”

“Yes,” Chief Kim nodded his agreement. “We will have to prepare. The attack on Northorn began last night.”

Chief Kim stood, his intimidating figure tall enough to reach the ceiling. He looked past me, obviously to the other Chief, and they had some kind of silent conversation. My eyes stayed on Jimin now. I knew this meeting would be over soon.

“I think it would be best if Oxur Park stayed in her own suite,” I heard Bo say.

I did not like that woman.

“I agree,” Chief Kim replied.

I did not like him either.

“They should be separated until their union,” She continued. “The witch needs to learn proper etiquette before touching the Alpha.”

I hated her.

Jimin looked as impressed as I did. With a deep scowl, Jimin disagreed vehemently. Taehyung took his side as well as Sol. They cited the war and bloodshed. Why waste time with these nonsensical rules when we had lived together for two months? I chose to stay quiet.

Chief Kim finally said his peace, “Separating them is not an option. The Luna is right, they have already lived intimately and I will not break their bonds for the sake of tradition.”

“But they have not completed anything,” Bo argued, sending a hateful look my way.

It was obvious she would be someone to look down on me. I could not understand what I had done to make her dislike me so, but I did not care enough to figure it out. Jimin was mine and nothing would change that. 

“We both know that it is not the only part of the bond,” Chief Kim scolded. “They will sleep separately but we need both of them present for this war. Forcing them apart will be detrimental.”

I was still weary of them both, but I was far more inclined to like Chief Kim. Bo was not satisfied with his answer but chose to keep her mouth shut. With that decided, Chief Kim dismissed us so he would have time to think. Taehyung and Sol stayed behind.

“Alpha Jimin,” I wanted to groan in frustration.

Having just stood up, Jimin was still too far away for my liking. Growing tired of holding back, I walked to his side. He reached out and took my hand. Bo frowned at the contact. 

“Yes, Chief Kim?”

“Come back in an hour. We have much to discuss regarding this revelation.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

Just like that, the two of us were cut off from the remaining conversation. Kim wanted to speak with Taehyung about an upcoming fight, and I was sure this would be better with Jimin here. My own selfishness was jumping for joy at being alone with him again, but I was worried how this short break may affect this war. 

Again, this Naida came to mind. Aldara had said I would have to find her, which meant she was not in Bangtan. I doubted I would find her in Moland either. Everyone knew everyone in the swamp and the name had never come up before. Naida was in the beyond, someplace within Lustra that I had never seen before, and it scared me. 

Jimin led me out of the room, and I was sad to see Sloan had already disappeared. She must have left as soon as Sol came out to greet me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, Jimin pulled me to his side and quickened his pace. I struggled to keep up, but I pushed my worries to the side. For now, I would allow myself to be happy to just be near him. 

“So,” I whispered, forcing myself to smile, “I’m your wife now?”

His ears reddened.

“It’s just a formality,” He replied, voice suspiciously even. I giggled at his flushed face and calmed easily. We were just us right now and that would have to be enough. I would worry about Cadoc once the sun set. “I had planned on proposing properly once this war was over.”

Slowing down, Jimin opened a door and pulled me inside. It was a dimly lit room with only candle light and a large bed within it. Fresh sheets smelled of cotton and lavender and I was unhappy with how barren it was. Only two pillows and a thin blanket. I was already itching to go back to my cabin and nest in my thick quilts.

Thinking about the cabin made me think about Shiloh. I had never gotten the chance to say goodbye. I knew I should be happy to be with my mate again, but I was so tired of plastering on a face of good health. A flash of white hot anger burst through my chest and I kicked one of the stone walls. 

“Amica.”

I kicked the wall again and groaned in my frustration. Everything had fallen apart so quickly. Shiloh holding Hoseok flashed behind my eyes and I kicked the wall again. I didn’t even know how he was doing and I would never see my precious little owl again. Another kick. Yoongi was blind and helpless, Hyun-Jin lost a piece of his childhood, and Taejin could have died. Cordelia did die. I screamed now, tears in my eyes, as I kicked and punched at the wall. 

“Amica,” Jimin grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the bloodied wall.

My hands shook and I fell to my knees and cried.

“Fall apart,” He whispered. “I’ll be here to hold you together.”

And so, for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to sob.

 The moon was high in the sky. Sitting in the faceless room, which I now knew as my own, I stared out the lone window and waited for a sign of Cadoc. It should not be too much longer before I get out of here. The walls were suffocating without Jimin around to hold me. 

He had stayed for the entire hour and held me. I cried until I could no longer produce tears and then I wailed. I told everything then. I told him about my visions before everything had hit, how I had kept things from him out of fear for his safety, and all of the ways I had gone out of my way to keep everyone in the dark. I stuttered my way through the way I fought off the elf, how much it had hurt to kill myself, and the way Aldara looked like an angel.

He held me tightly when I told him about Taehyung and I fighting our way through the elves to get to Sol, how she had bitten and swung at me like a stranger, and just how tiny she was. I felt him flinch when we talked about finding Yoongi and he cried with me when I got to dragging Cordelia’s body from the dead.

“She was so heavy,” I wailed, rocking back and forth in his arms. “So, so heavy.”

He did not want to leave me, but he had duties to attend to. He offered to send someone up to sit with me but I declined the offer. I did not want anyone but him to step foot in this room. This would be my new nest and it was mine to decide what to do with and who to allow. I would make an exception to Taehyung or my witches, but that would be all. I doubted they would ever come here to find me, not when I was so desperate to get away from this castle.

Finally, I caught sight of a shadowy figure running through the village. Without waiting for a signal or call sign, I shifted. My bird flew around easily and made no noise as it glided through the dark palace. I had to shift back once I reached the main door. I knew it would be impossible to open without alerting someone to my disappearance, so I needed to find another way. The window in my room did not open, but hopefully one of these would. After checking a few, I found that one was completely missing from its spot. They must have been repairing it.

Taking advantage of the opening, I shifted and took off to the forest. It was dead silent tonight and I hoped my friends were safe. Patto would be fine but Delinah could have been injured or killed in the elven rampage. Elves ate deer. I did not want to ponder on the thought any further. 

Cadoc was waiting for me in my meadow. The cottage was still destroyed but otherwise had seemed completely untouched. Sniffing the air I was sure that no one else had been around here for days. The others must have thought me dead and left the cottage alone once they thought it was useless. Magic and spells were of no use to them, especially my silly little grimoires filled with potions and strange teleports.

“It’s been left alone,” Cadoc shouted once he saw me coming. 

I shifted once I was close enough to the ground. The clothing spell had been a wonderful thing to know how to do lately. Cadoc was dressed in dark clothes now and blended into the trees. That weird translucent quality he had the first time we met was back. I hoped we were safe enough but kept up my guard just in case. I fondled the iron ring I was wearing.

“What do you know?” I asked.

“Not much,” He admitted. “Samayna is suspicious of the female chief, but I believe that is too easy a target. Lorcan is untrusting of humans, but his own bias is affecting his judgment. Both of them are going to our queen living deep in Moland to discuss their theories.”

I pursed my lips.

“What evidence is there that anyone was involved?”

“They came in through the cave systems. No elven army could have gone through them that quietly without knowing where to go. How were no wolves able to pick up on them? It’s too strange for us to ignore the possibilities.”

I hated to agree with him but I was odd. The cave was echoey and loud. There were few things that could be quiet enough to invade without someone hearing something. The wolves would have been ready for a cave ambush if they made a single sound, but they did not. You would have to know where to go in order to take advantage of that vantage point.

“You believe me,” Cadoc always sounded so surprised about my trust. 

“You make good points,” I replied. “I just don’t understand why someone would use elves against their own people.”

“The same reason the elves turn on their own: Power.”

Elves were disgusting creatures. Aldara had always said a quietus kills for vengeance while an elf kills for glory. Their kind believed in mass genocide and hated what they called “halflings” and “hybrids.” Their country of Etelin were the first to attack during the Century War where they stole the land of Korika from the wolves and foxes living there. Lustra had never fallen but those who once ruled these lands had diminished. Quietus were amongst these populations and a few groups had become highly aggressive towards anyone who was not an elemental.

Those were the ones Aldara killed. She always reminded me that there were good people, good quietus, but it was so hard to imagine as a child. Everything was black and white then, but looking at Cadoc I knew she was right. 

“What did your ancestor show you?” He asked. “The little witch boy said you would have seen her in the spirit world.”

I frowned, “She told me to find someone called Naida.”

I had no idea who this could be, but Cadoc’s expression told me that I should. 

“And she said you specifically?”

I nodded wearily. Cadoc began to pace and mumble to himself. In the dark on the significance of this name, I grew annoyed. I wished he would get over himself and talk to me. I stayed quiet in fear I would say something rude and tried to be patient.

“You’re going to have to go to the Ozryn Mountains,” He finally said. “Finding Naida is impossible without Khione. She’s in the Mountains near Idris and you may be able to convince her to take you to Naida if you tell her of the situation here in Bangtan.”

I scoffed, “What are you talking about? Who are these people?”

“Khione is an elemental who bends. She is Naida’s closest and oldest friend and will be easier to find.”

I sighed in frustration. I did not like being out of the loop and after the day I had my patience has run dry. I wanted to get back to Foxglove and sneak into Jimin’s house for the night. Bo be damned, I needed to see him. Especially if I would have to leave soon. The thought made me want to cry.

“I don’t know who any of these people are!” I shouted. “Talk to me, Cadoc. I’m lost and you’re saying I need to leave Bangtan to go and find some elemental.”

The quietus needed to pause his pacing to stare at me. I was missing something important, but it was hard to explain how little I knew about the world outside of the forest. I found the politics of Northorn boring and talks of war made me uncomfortable. I knew, however, that these women were not in positions of power within the statehoods. The only woman that came to mind was Queen Elizabeth of Northorn.

“You are too young to remember the age of the dragons,” Cadoc said and I realized he thought I was much older than I was. I wondered if I looked like Heidi or Griselda enough to have him confused. “Naida is the mother of them all. She was the first dragon that ever lived and her children are the ancestors of Khione’s people.”

“There’s no Naida living in Alcona,” I interjected, confused.

“Naida is a water dragon,” He replied. “Khione is an elemental who cannot shift as her bloodline was diluted by air elemental blood.”

Dragon shifters, as far as I knew, were fire elementals that lived in the Alcona Islands. Aldara had said during the Century War they had been enslaved and used as weapons of war once the elves learned how to force them to their will. Water and air were far more difficult to control, and we had always assumed they were the only dragons to survive the war. I had never known of these water tribes within Ozryn. It reminded me of the rumors of hybrids living deep in the mountains after the first Quietus Invasion.

“The people of Alcona are familiar with her,” Cadoc continued. “Queen Affra is her godchild but they do not see one another often. Naida mourns the death of her kin and holds a mean grudge against Etelin for what they have done to Lustra.”

I was doubtful I would be able to find this dragon woman. I had hardly stepped foot out of the forest and the further away I had gone was Moland. I had no maps or points of reference to guide me along the journey. Then there was the very real chance I was not allowed to go. Jimin would fight tooth and nail to keep me in Bangtan, and I would need to find a way around him. Cadoc seemed to be following my train of thought.

“Samayna will have the maps you will need for the journey. She may even offer to go with you.”

“No,” I shook my head. “If I’m not here then I want to be sure all of the strongest fighters are. I will go off on my own and write when I can.”

“I can speak with King Hadeon. He can offer up his consort-”

“No,” I emphasize my point once more. “I will do this alone. I can only choose my own fate. If I die then that will be so, no need to pull anybody away from Foxglove.”

Cadoc seemed upset by my resolve but moved on. I would not budge from this. Another reason I could be denied would be lack of hands and I would be sure mine would be the only ones gone. Cogs turning, I was sure I could convince Kim and Bo to allow me passage so long as I promised to return with help no matter what. I could use the excuse of sending for help from Viridi Gramine, but I knew Taehyung would see through the lie. He was another factor I would need to consider.

“You’re braver than you look,” He finally settled on.

“I don’t feel that way,” I replied.

Ignoring the comment, Cadoc continued.

“You will need to get to Clarcton first. There you can find lodging. The elves are still at the northern tip of Northorn to avoid Briar Glen Beach. Keld resides there and he will alert Affra.

“Pack for the cold, buy some clothes, and try to find a guide to the mountains. No one will give you passage, but you might be able to get some help finding your way. Once you’re in the mountains stay south and find the narrow passageway to Idris.”

“How will I know I’m going the right way?”

“Dwarf caves are all over the place. You would be able to hear them during the day. Do not walk at night. You will die. If you’re lucky, someone will be curious and ask why you’re there. Tell them you are looking for Khione. It’s alright to say it’s elves- dwarves hate them more than we do.

“If not, keep going until you see a light in the distance. That is Khione’s tower where the guiding light shines for travelers. At this point you will probably believe you’re going to die, and you will cry in relief. Ozryn is tumultuous even during this time of year. We are lucky they attacked in summer instead of winter or your journey would be impossible.”

This plan was forming itself already. Tonight I would gather grimoires from inside of the cellar and ask Cadoc to take them back with me. For the next two days I would study harder than I ever had in my life in order to prepare for a fight. I would have to pick two or three books to bring along with me that would be my own companions. I would have to get started soon if I had any hope of sorting through my things before sunrise.

“Stand out here,” I told Cadoc. “I need to gather a few things.”

“Heidi would have better information,” He said. “I remember her well from the war. The little girl with her would be okay, too.”

I walked inside and opened the cellar. I would bring along a few of my knives and craft a new one. Thelma’s order for iron had been made and there were two iron scones in my room I could melt down. My magic was fickle and I would have no room for mistakes. 

I took three feathers I found in Shiloh’s nest on my way out.

I found his home easily. Even with the bungalow in disarray and heavily damaged, I could see the care people had took in trying to hold it together temporarily. I did not think it would withstand much of anything, but I could hope it would be enough for Jimin to be safe. Other copiae were in the palace as their homes were too damaged. Bo did not want us in the same place so Jimin had to stay out here.

I went to the bedroom window I had flown to all of those months ago. A lot has changed since then. Jimin was at his desk again, quill in hand and hair tied up. I loved the way the candles lit his face. 

Cadoc took my things to my room for me. After picking out five of Heidi’s books, one of Griselda’s, and two more of Aldara’s journals, the two of us came back to the village. His powers made gliding soundlessly easy. My bird would never have been able to make that work. Along with the books, I also took spare trousers, my jewelry box, and my quilts. This room would be mine for a few days and I would make it look as such. I hoped it would bring Jimin comfort in my absence. I knocked on the glass.

Jimin looked at me and stood up. He pointed to the front door and I walked around the small house. The door was already open and Jimin’s arms outstretched for me. 

“You were gone when I came to check on you,” He said.

I walked into his chest, kicking the door closed behind me, and wrapped myself around him. His warmth was nice and I breathed him in. I would be away from him for so long…

“I snuck away,” I grinned. “I wanted to get some of my things. Hopefully Bo won’t be too upset with me.”

Jimin chuckled, “Ignore her. She’s hurting and trying to distract herself with other feelings.”

“Like hate?” I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him. “Disgust? Disdain?”

He kissed my forehead. 

“Jealousy.”

He sniffed my hair and stiffened.

“You weren’t alone on your outing.”

I shook my head, “No. Cadoc wanted to meet with me regarding some… issues they were having.”

“Can we talk about it?”

I nodded and forced myself out of his arms. I would never be able to focus on anything like this. I yawned but waved off his grooming. Jimin, like everyone else in my life, treated me like a glass house in a tornado. Normally, I appreciated his pampering but we needed to have a serious talk and it would make me lose my train of thought.

“They believe there’s a whistleblower,” I started, sitting down on his sofa. “Using caves was weird and they’re talking with their Queen about it now.”

“Taehyung and I were talking about that possibility as well,” He mused, looking over at me. “That’s not all, is it?”

I shook my head. I knew this was the part of the night I would have to stay quiet about for now, but I might be able to say some of it. Planting a seed and seeing where it goes never hurt anybody.

“I might have to do something in the next few days,” I looked at my hands. “It won’t be fun, or easy, but you need to trust me, okay?”

“You need to give trust to get it.”

Looking at him, I was sad to see the defeat in his eyes. Keeping things from him had made this situation so much worse than they should have been. Even if he never admits it, even if we never acknowledged this fact right now, I knew him. He was hurt by me keeping quiet and not trusting him enough to defend the both of us. All this time I was keeping him safe without ever thinking about the fact that he wanted to make sure I was okay, too. Taking a deep breath, I decided to just get it out and deal with it right here and now.

“I need to find someone,” I whispered uselessly. There was no one else around. “When I saw Aldara she said I needed to find Naida, a water dragon. Cadoc said that her people would send help as soon as they heard me out.”

“Absolutely not!” He shouted, standing from the sofa.

“I told you that it won’t be easy,” I reached out for him.

Brushing off my affection, Jimin rubbed his ace roughly. He was panicking already. I stayed seated and tried to soften the blow, but came up empty-handed. Nothing would make this easier. 

“Not easy? You’re expecting me to be fine with you going on a suicide mission!”

I frowned, “Do you not trust me enough to take care of myself?”

He groaned in frustration. 

“Of course you can take care of yourself, but I can’t live with the thought of never seeing you again. They live in the mountains, Y/N! The mountains! You have no idea where you’re going. How can I accept that?”

He was right. If he had come to me with this proposal I would be just as hysterical. I feared for myself, it was the reason I wanted to go alone, but the fear for me was hard to understand. It felt wrong to bring someone else with me, though it would help to ease Jimin’s mind. My friends’ minds as well.

“What if someone came along with me?” I asked. 

Pausing his pacing, he started to consider. He was still uncomfortable, that I could see plainly, but some of the tension was gone. I sorted through a list of names but felt uncomfortable with any of them tagging along. None of my witches were allowed to die in those mountains and I only knew wolves who were important. 

“Not you,” I quickly added. “Your people need you right now.”

“Then who?” He asked, his voice far more resigned. 

“There’s a wolf in the palace. Her name is Sloan and I’m fond of her. She can come with me.”

All at once, Jimin was at ease. I smiled. I knew little about that woman, and had no intentions of dragging her through the mountains with me, but if she eased all of his worries she would be formidable. I was bitter about her mistreatment once more. Pity Ahn had died so easily.

“I can live with that.”

We laid in his bed for the rest of the night, talking and caressing one another. I had missed a lot during my slumber and I was happy to get the rundown. With Sloan’s word from earlier I felt less insecure about our snail’s pace. Jimin truly believed he was honoring me this way and I would let him have this. If he would let me leave then I would wait for marriage. I fell asleep as the sun came up and smiled when I thought of Bo finding my room empty.

A/N: Don’t be mad at me!

Taglist:  @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main​ @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin​ @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer​

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission 

[skepticalfrogcat]

Here you all go, the happy part 3 you all were promised.

And I know that for the last part it was just a suggestion to read the previous part, but for this one I'm going to go ahead and say you have to have read the previous part in this series in order for major scenes in this fic to make any sense to you. You have been warned!

(Also I was told that I should tag @choicesficwriterscreations ! Thank you to @lovehugsandcandy for telling me this!)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Minor angst. With a happy ending I promise! And as I said in a post I made a while back, it's mostly very soft emotional stuff, nothing too serious.

Word Count: 3,007

Summary: Finch and Aerin take a trip to Riverbend.

Since the end of the battle with the Ash Empress, and the decision to keep the portals open, Finch had been busier than ever. It seemed as though everyone was competing to get him to pay attention to their personal gripes and grievances, and he only had the time and energy for so many of them. Most of the time he ended up directing them to someone who could actually help, because his reputation often gave people the false idea that he had endless talents, which simply wasn't true. Often, there was no way he could properly accomplish the tasks they gave to him.

Luckily, he'd been spending most of his time with the goblins in the Whimsywood, which was far enough away from the bustling environment of Whitetower for his liking. Evidently, and a bit to his surprise, he had a much higher tolerance for handling people's requests when he was in the middle of the woods. Of course, that wasn't the only part of living in the Whimsywood that he was especially fond of.

He'd moved into one of the houses that had already been built into the trees. It was a more permanent residence, more than his room in the castle had been at least, and he was content with it. Truthfully, he would've been happy to start living anywhere, given that he'd be living with Aerin. It had been proven to him time and time again that he could find happiness anywhere they could be together.

After they'd settled in, they actually hadn't had time to do much other than help rebuild. There wasn't much destruction, and Finch was grateful every day that he'd made the right choices in order to keep it that way. Most of what he'd been doing was diplomacy, sorting out conflicts between people passing between realms. It did settle down after a while, though. The hectic nature of his environment persisted for a few weeks at the most, and after that it was over. Everything became sort of… normal. He hadn't experienced that in kind of a long time, longer than he'd realized. He wanted to take advantage of it while he could, because he knew that eventually something would arrive to stir things up again.

And so, Finch and Aerin had decided to take a trip. Not a big or extravagant one, but a well-needed one nonetheless. It was kind of like a little vacation. Finch had realized that Aerin had never actually been to Riverbend, which he knew needed to be rectified. The destination was agreed upon very quickly, partially because it would provide the relatively stress-free break that they both needed, but Finch knew it was also because Aerin had been able to tell how important it was to him.

The trip from the freshly revived Whimsywood all the way to Riverbend had been a long one. Finch loved visiting home, he did, he simply wished that his Realmwalking abilities provided some method of faster travel. He was sure they might, to someone older or more experienced, but for the time being he was stuck traveling mainly on foot. Besides, he wasn't entirely confident that he'd be able to bring anyone else with him that way anyway, which happened to be fairly necessary for this trip.

Given how tiring it had been to make it to the town, all they'd really been able to do on their first day there was sleep. Kade was still working in Whitetower, but the place they'd lived in together was still available to them whenever they wanted it. That was one upside to having grown up in such a small village: it was almost like everyone was family. Even if he weren't the Savior of the Realm - which would never stop being strange to hear - he was sure he and Kade would still have their room above the local tavern, because that was how things worked in Riverbend. People always did favors for each other.

The second day in Riverbend, though, they were actually able to explore a bit. They went to the river, the town's namesake, where Aerin had been able to do some drawing while Finch chatted away beside him. After that, they'd gone to a couple of Finch's personal favorite places, like a bakery he and Kade had been going to since they were kids, and a really old archery range someone had set up in the woods where Finch had practiced with a rudimentary bow in his younger teen years.

By the time evening was rolling around, they'd made their way back to the tavern. Their plan had originally been to retire back upstairs, but the tavern was much more populated by then, and naturally there were demands for the two of them to stay for a round.

“Why don't you tell us something, Finch?” One patron suggested, gesturing with the pint in his hand as he spoke.

“Ah, you all know I'm no good at it,” Finch waved him off. “Just wait for Kade to come back around, I'm sure he'll have something great for you when he does.”

“Come on, just one new story, and then we'll leave you be,” a girl standing nearby attempted to barter. “Why don't you tell us about… a beast you fought?” she suggested.

“I'm sure Kade's told you all about those a million times over, because I'd bet all of you that you've done this exact thing to him before.”

“We don't have to bug him, he just does it!” Someone called out from the back of the bar. Everyone laughed, and it did make Finch wish his brother were here, but he knew they'd be back in Riverbend together eventually.

Finch leaned over to speak to Aerin, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “What do you think? Should I throw them a bone?”

“Personally, I'd really like to hear which one of your escapades you think is entertaining enough to please a room full of mildly drunk people,” Aerin muttered back. “Especially with the way you tell stories.”

Finch laughed, bumping his shoulder against Aerin's. “Don't pretend you don't listen to them every time.”

“Go ahead then.” Aerin gestured to the rest of the room with a nod of his head. “Prove me wrong.”

Aerin had always been quite good at getting Finch to do practically anything. Finch left his spot leaning against the wall and went to take up an empty stool along the bar, which was more central to the room. Then he started telling the story. He'd chosen to tell them about the time he and Mal had met a mermaid near the Shimmering Isles, because he knew that one had a good enough balance of action and glamor to hold just about everyone's attention, no matter what sort of story they favored.

Truthfully, he was a rather terrible storyteller. Kade could tell a story as if it were happening in real time, always getting the details just right with perfect timing and impeccable vocabulary. Meanwhile, Finch frequently had to backtrack to include details he'd forgotten to mention, and he often forgot what he had and hadn't already said. He was lucky he at least had charisma. Even still, every time he'd glance over at Aerin, he'd be looking back, intently listening as he always did.

When he finished the story, a few people did request another, but that time Finch was adamant about his refusal. It was already further into the night than he'd been planning on staying out. He did receive a few playful jabs about the fact that he was turning in early, but he'd been expecting them. Most of the patrons of the tavern had a slightly warped view of what ‘early’ meant anyway.

So he and Aerin went upstairs, back to the room they were staying in. It wasn't very large, and it was barely furnished. All that was really in the room was a small, tattered rug on the ground, a nightstand with a single lamp on top of it, and the two beds he and Kade had slept in since they were much younger. But, despite the fact that he'd lived in much more lavish places since leaving Riverbend, Finch still thought of this room as home. Aerin didn't seem to mind it either. Finch knew he'd never been suited to the extravagance of the castle.

“Do they ask you to do that a lot?” Aerin asked, already in bed after having gotten ready.

“What, tell stories? No, not usually.” Finch pulled his shirt off over his head and put on the pajama pants he'd brought. “I'd say I'm pretty low on the list, even without Kade here. Honestly I think it's just because you were there.”

“What do you mean?” Aerin moved over on the bed a bit as Finch settled in beside him. It was really only meant for one person, but that didn't matter. Even though they'd never discussed it, Finch had a feeling that Aerin didn't like sleeping alone. Not after all those nights in the cell. “Were they trying to make you seem impressive or something?”

“No, not quite,” Finch laughed. “If anything, they were trying to get me to make a fool of myself in front of you. Kind of like what Mal does to Tyril all the time. Luckily, you love me too much to be embarrassed of me, even if I am a terrible storyteller.” He gave Aerin an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.

Aerin held back a smile and reached over to turn off the lamp, making the only light in the room the moonlight coming in through the window on the wall above the bed. “We've both done stupid things in front of each other enough times that it doesn't matter anymore.”

“It's probably best that we don't keep count.”

Finch closed his eyes as peaceful silence fell over the room. He was lying with his cheek resting on Aerin's shoulder, his forehead pressed lightly against the side of his neck. His hand laid flat on Aerin's chest, and if he focused on it, he could feel the indent about the size of his palm where Aerin's scar was.

He'd only ever seen the Nerada Stone once, but he remembered it vividly. He could still recall the precise details of how it had looked, and the terror it had brought on when he'd seen it. He still didn't know what had caused Aerin to decide to take it out, in the end. Finch couldn't imagine what someone would have to feel to put themselves through that kind of pain. At times he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

“Finch,” he heard Aerin whisper, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” he hummed in response. He felt Aerin's hand cover his own.

“You were doing that thing again.”

It wasn't the first time he'd done it. Every so often, when he got really wrapped up in thinking about the stone, he would start gently tracing the outline of the scar with his fingertips. He never knew he was doing it until Aerin inevitably pointed it out to him.

“Sorry. I didn't notice.”

“It's okay. I don't mind it. I just want to remind you that you don't have to worry about what I can tell you're worrying about right now.”

“I know, I know, it's just…” Finch shifted in place, propping himself up slightly with his elbow on the mattress so he could see Aerin's face. He had a habit of wanting to be able to look at Aerin when he started talking about something he was deeply invested in. He did it with everyone, but especially Aerin. “I wish there was something I could've done. I'm sure we could've found some other way, if I had known that was what you were trying to do.”

“You not being there didn't have anything to do with what I did. I didn't even know you were gone. Your friends stopped visiting eventually, and no one else seemed to think I should know. So my point is, even if you had still been around, I probably would've done the same thing.” Aerin lifted his hand to run it slowly through Finch's hair a couple times, and Finch leaned into the touch.

“I guess I just want to know why. That's the one part of it I've never been able to figure out,” Finch admitted. “And you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but…”

“Do you think it would help?” Aerin's brow furrowed. “Because I don't want to do anything that would hurt you. And don't say it would help just because you want to know.”

Finch considered it for a moment. “I think that… I'd probably think about it a lot at first. But knowing would definitely make it easier to come to terms with.”

Aerin took a deep breath, and sighed it out. “Okay. The truth is…” He looked away, into the wider room, almost as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to take the stone out after you came to see me. All it took was that one time, and I... I knew it wasn't worth it anymore.”

Finch's eyes grew distant as the memories of that night came back to him. He'd forgotten. So much had happened since then that he'd completely forgotten it. That was a terrible thing to have forgotten, what kind of an idiot forgot about something like that? He remembered it now, of course, but he had no idea how it had ever slipped his mind in the first place.

“Hey.” Aerin tapped gently on Finch's cheek with his knuckle, the way someone might knock on a door if they suspected someone was asleep on the other side. “You're beating yourself up over something right now. Tell me what it is, so I can help. I'm not just letting you sit here and stew in whatever you're thinking about.”

It took Finch another few moments to say anything in response, but Aerin allowed him to work through it for as long as he needed to. “I really shouldn't have done that to you,” he muttered. It wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking about, but it was what those thoughts had led him to. “Not the visit, but the fact that I just left. I got scared and I ran, I didn't even try to talk to you about it. I was a real jerk for that, wasn't I.”

“I… can admit that it's not my favorite thing you've ever done. But I've forgiven you by now, which means you should forgive yourself too, because honestly it was probably the best thing you could've done.” Aerin placed both of his hands on Finch's cheeks. “If you hadn't come to see me, and you hadn't done what you did, we probably wouldn't be here right now.”

“I still think I could've handled things better. I didn't think it through. Any of it. Even just a little more planning would've stopped it from going so poorly.”

“Finch, it didn't go poorly,” Aerin insisted. “Maybe in the moment it did, sure. But seeing you that night, talking to you, the way you kissed me, it all reminded me how much I needed you. Then you left, and I realized that before I could get that life back, I needed to become a better person again. I couldn't go on the way I was if I ever wanted to have something good again. That was why I took out the stone.”

“But it must've hurt you,” Finch shook his head, still catching up with everything Aerin was telling him. “To take it out, I mean.”

“Of course it did. It hurt me to have it, too,” Aerin reminded him. Finch did remember that, from when he'd first seen the stone. “But I was betting on the hope that those last few minutes of pain would pay off with more happiness than I knew what to do with. It was either that, or keep hurting other people for the rest of my life. I didn't know what would happen, but I knew I had to try.”

“And… did it work?” Finch asked, speaking hesitantly.

“Yes,” Aerin nodded, possibly sounding more certain than Finch had ever heard him before. He lifted his head a bit and gently brought Finch down to meet him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I'd say that it did.”

A small smile crossed Finch's face, which almost always happened when Aerin kissed him. “Good.” He settled back into his place on the bed, lying down the way he'd been before. He felt Aerin's arms wrap around him, warm and familiar against his skin.

He was finally satisfied with the knowledge he had. He hadn't wanted to push too hard on the matter of Aerin’s scar and how he'd gotten it, because he knew that at times the idea of it upset both of them. It was a big sore spot that neither of them wanted to get close to. But he'd always known they'd have to talk about it at some point, and if it was going to happen somehow, he believed this was one of the best ways it could've been. The room felt much more peaceful then. His thoughts weren't quite so loud anymore. Well, aside from one of them.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Aerin replied, as Finch knew he would.

Finch was well aware that there would be more problems for him to fix eventually, whether it was a simple favor for a friendly stranger or a new foe for him to save the world from. It seemed unavoidable at that point. But right now, he was safe at home, in bed next to the best, smartest, most breathtaking person he'd ever known. There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be. Things were difficult at times, and would be again. But for the moment, all was well in the world.

[anulithots]

Kinda tired, have some Kamari angst.

Trigger Warning for discussions of death and watching others die.

(Very first draft, feedback especially constructive criticism is appreciated)

Also also, Kamari's pov style is different every time I write faer. Why.

And tag for this little "series" is : #Meanwhile: Kamari angst.

------

After three days, fallen fairies were presumed dead.

But Anuli had no fatal wounds (thank the fates), so that number could be skewed...

And Anuli was not a fallen fairy, no matter what the Mother of Guardian's said.

Kamari settled into faer spot beside Anuli's resting place, using a staff fae 'bought' from a Guardian dryad to hold up a large quilt. It should shelter Anuli from the worst of the weather and keep faer out of sight.

Kamari sipped faer water... rations this time. A strange concept. As the high Protector, Kamari just... was given everything fae needed. Although, if not being the High Protector meant fae had to complete all these tasks fae didn't know how to do.. that was the life fae strived for?

Kamari whined, faer heart stretched thin. No, this was not the fate fae wanted. Kamari was a deserter, fallen from grace, with no territory to call faer own.

But fae should've had Anuli.

Anuli should be with faer.

And fae would be... eventually.

The water tasted bitter in faer mouth, so fae brushed the bowl aside. Rations. Fairies lived like this? Normal, not planted, not High Protector fairies... lived like this?

This was why fae killed- this was why fae was the High Protector?

Kamari shook faer head and hummed a lullaby, the one Anuli liked, shifted in pitch and tempo to layer nicely with the chirps of the evening birds and...

Well, Anuli would've hummed along. Faer squeaky voice would've faded in and out. Kamari would've changed faer voice to match, fae had been changing faer voice to match. Each element would've ebbed and flowed, one adding depth and richness to the other.

But without Anuli, without faer voice, that hollow spot where a breathy, squeaky tune should've been, it made the rest of the lullaby sound out of place in comparison.

------

I wrote more, but it's a lot messier. I'll get back to posting the tumblr houseplant series and @imjusthereforeternity soon.

[unlimited-works-in-progress]

Warden's Disease: Chapter 1

Fandom: Dragon Age 2 Category: M/M Relationships: Fenris/Anders, Hawke/Anders, Fenris/Hawke Characters: Fenris, Anders, Blue/Purple Hawke, Sebastian Vael Tags: Sickfic, Unknown Disease, Fantasy Disease Status: Work in Progress

I'm not a medical professional, so some things may be off. I only have Google and my ability to properly use it as my backup.

Chapter 1: First Symptoms

Anders was so tired.

They just finished fighting some slavers or some other unpleasant inhabitants of the Wounded Coast, when he felt it hitting him like a hammer. The bone deep exhaustion born from hours upon hours of cleaning and bandaging wounds, and healing the injuries that could and needed to be mended with magic, as the other methods would be just simply insufficient, too risky, or end in the patient’s long and painful death if not treated then and there.

It caught him off guard to the point that he visibly stumbled and would have fallen on his knees and palms to the ground if he didn’t manage to use his staff to support himself until the feeling became a little less prominent and allowed him to actually stand upright.

He didn’t know how long he will be able to keep it up, though.

He had more and more things that needed to be done, and less and less time and energy to actually complete any of them. On top of being the full time Darktown healer, he also had Mage Underground to worry about every now and then, and more frequently than that Hawke’s little treks up and down the city or outside either on the coast or in the mountains.

Sometimes he wondered how did he manage to do it for so long without any issue.

Was it Justice’s influence? Was it his own determination to be useful to the only person that showed him care and compassion in this cruel world, besides of course Varric and Isabela?

Was he truly so hopelessly in love with Hawke that he would keep up this mad pace for so long? He couldn’t really put it past himself, but something was definitely not right. Was it just a burnout effect that he was feeling now, due to barely any time for proper rest in between of all of his numerous responsibilities, or was his age finally catching up to him at last?

If any of those were true, then it was probably good that he was not invited to the trip to the Sundermount that Hawke was planning next. He would probably just become a dead weight, and he really didn’t want to burden Aregor even more than he already did.

Who said that there were no little mercies for him after all? He will finally have enough time to rest, and hopefully Hawke would not even notice there was any issue in the first place.

***

“Why are we even visiting the clinic?” asked Sebastian, hastily avoiding the puddle of something he would rather not investigate too closely. “You don’t even like Anders, so why the sudden care? I bet he is right as a rain, doing whatever vile things he is doing there”.

Fenris sighed, once again thinking that he should bring Sebastian here more often. He may not like Anders and actively disagree with everything that the man said, but despite being a dangerous abomination on the loose, Fenris knew that Anders did only good for the people of Darktown. That there were no vile blood magic rituals, or any conspiracy going on there. Just a place of healing for all that were ignored and discarded by the society and its Chantry. Sebastian did know that Sisters were not visiting Darktown. He even commented on it a few times when they were here, so it wouldn’t be hard to show him that where the Chantry failed, people like Anders did something good and asked nothing in return. Not even the donations he received from people of Lowtown, Hawke, and his grateful patients when they could share.

“Mage was behaving strangely during the last few missions with Hawke, so before Aregor, Merrill, Aveline and Isabela left for the Sundermount, I was asked to check on him once in a while” answered Fenris. He was not happy about the task that was given to him, but he knew it was important, so he was not complaining. “Hawke was worried about him, that’s all I need”.

“You don’t seem eager” commented the prince, to which Fenris responded with a shrug.

He was not, as talking to Anders was always such a chore, but he was willing to sacrifice his good mood and a bit of time to ensure that Hawke would not have to worry too much and in consequence hurt himself during the trip. Maker knew what they will encounter there.

“Is his work here truly that exhausting?” asked Sebastian curiously, looking around for the patients and seeing nobody. They were already pretty close, so it was peculiar that there was nobody around, no stragglers loitering close to the clinic’s doors waiting for their turn, no queue, nothing.

“Usually there are a few people. I am not familiar with how busy the clinic is exactly in the long term, or how it could be if something unexpected happened, but he is usually busy”.

“You said you noticed him stumbling?” Fenris only nodded at that in confirmation. “I saw it too. He nearly had fallen on the last errant we had together. There were a lot of slavers on the coast, so we run into a few groups one after another. He seemed more and more tired after each battle we had that day. More than normal I would say, as usually he was less tired than me, which I always kind of assumed was due to his Grey Warden enhanced stamina”.

Sebastian seemed to contemplate what he just said. Fenris was too. It was true that the mage was more tired and less robust recently. The fact that he noticed was a proof enough.

“That’s why we are checking on him. I might despise what he stands for, but if something happens to him, we will be short of a healer, and not having access to proper treatment can be far more dangerous in a city as corrupt and full of crime like Kirkwall”.

Fenris didn’t say more, because the very thought that he was doing it out of his own worry instead of the clear pragmatism was absurd, and he tried to bury it very deep until it perished. He noticed that Anders was lacking energy recently, but didn’t think more about it until Hawke brought it up, all concerned about Anders’ well-being. It surely must be mage’s fault in some way. Poor sleep management or spending too much time over his ridiculous manifesto.

“Well… then I hope we will meet his snappy asshole self, because then at least we will be sure that he is alright and nothing is amiss”.

Fenris couldn’t agree more. He never would have thought that he will feel uneasy with Anders all calm and quiet. Not at all responsive to any jab he may indirectly aim at him while sharing his opinion during the quests they went on, but if it meant something was truly wrong, he would rather prefer the anger and yelling or a whole tirade about mage rights than whatever they may find when they arrive at the clinic… that for some reason seemed to be closed today.

“Did he say he will be out today, or…” asked Sebastian inspecting the locked door.

“No. Usually the clinic is open during this hour” responded Fenris, looking at the darkened lamp near them that usually indicated if Healer of Darktown was taking patients, and then at the people around. There was nobody waiting there, just like they noticed previously.

Sebastian knocked on the door and waited, but there was no response, then looked at Fenris and shrugged. Could it be that the clinic was truly closed today? Was Anders busy with something else?

“We should ask one of the locals. They will know if mage went somewhere” he decided, and then they moved quickly up the closest stairs to find someone they could ask. Not far away they stumbled upon a young boy, whom Fenris recognized as one of the helpers at the clinic.

They stopped in front of his cot and leveled themselves to be crouching in front of him. Both for the convenience during the conversation and also to not threaten the poor boy. The kid looked at them suspiciously, and even the sight of the golden coin didn’t change that. Varric and Hawke said something about people of Darktown being fiercely protective of their Healer, but he never thought before that even a golden coin would be far less valuable than having Anders around. Well, he should have known. He said so himself. Not having access to a decent treatment was dangerous if not outright deadly in Kirkwall, so it made sense.

“We may not look like it, but we didn’t come here to take away your Healer. We are Hawke’s companions, and we wanted to know if the Healer said he had any business to attend to today?” asked Fenris carefully, trying not to give the boy any more reason to mistrust them.

“We noticed that the clinic was closed, but he didn’t say anything about it last time we saw each other” added Sebastian helpfully. “You don’t have to say when or where”.

The kid measured them both as if judging if they were lying, but then after a few moments of intense staring he took the coin from Fenris, sniffed, and said “Healer didn’t open the clinic. We all thought that he just went away with Messere Hawke, as we usually do, when clinic is closed. So either you are both lying about being his companions, or he truly didn’t leave”.

Fenris and Sebastian looked at each other, and then at the boy.

“Did any of you saw him leaving?” asked Sebastian.

“No, but we assumed that he may have left early, when nobody was up yet to see him leave, and go through the cellar”. Well, that was at least something.

“Thank you, we will check if he used it”.

They both quickly backtracked and climbed through the cellar to the Amell estate, where they met Bodahn and Sandal, already busy even though Hawke was not around.

“Ah, messere Fenris and messere Sebastian! How can I help you today?”

“Did Anders by any chance used the cellar today?”

“No, messere Sebastian. The cellar entrance is usually closed during the night from this side, and I open it every morning just in case serrah Anders needed to use it. That is the arrangement between him and messere Hawke, that at night the cellar is only open on the Darktown side, in case there was some emergency and serrah Anders needed to hide. The doors on Amell estate side are to be opened only if serrah Anders gives a clear sign”.

Fenris never thought about this, but that seemed reasonable. If the entrance was open at all times, it posed a risk to Hawke. There were dangerous people at night that could accidentally find the entrance and go all the way to Amell estate, and if not kill Hawke, then at least rob him blind. Better to avoid tempting fate like this. But if this was true it meant that Anders was not seen leaving the clinic, and didn’t come here, which meant that…

“He is still in the clinic” said Fenris, suddenly full of worry.

“That’s… but why he would not respond?” tried Sebastian, to no avail. He also was concerned now. Despite his clear mistrust of Anders in general, he seemed to care just a bit.

Fenris didn’t respond and run down the cellar tunnel back to Darktown.

“Thank you for your help, Bodahn!” yelled Sebastian, while running after his friend.

After a few minutes, they found themselves upon the clinic's door again.

“Can you open it without damaging the lock?”

“I can try. But still, why didn’t he open the door if he was there?”

“Maybe he couldn’t” said Fenris quickly.

“Or maybe he was just making fun of us for trying to keep tabs on him” replied Sebastian, while fiddling with the lock, but he didn’t seem convinced. If Anders was there, he would surely open the clinic by now, if not for them then for the patients, both of them knew that. This knowledge, however, wasn’t helping with the matter at hand.

“Done!” Both of them rushed into the room.

Everything around looked normal. Peaceful. As if nothing unusual happened. They went around the main room looking for Anders, but didn’t see him until finally, at the very back of the room, Fenris spotted a shadow on the ground. “There!”

Fenris was there first, and surely they have found Anders, lying unconscious on the ground, his breaths calm and shallow. He would look as if he was sleeping if not for his pale face. Fenris put a hand on his forehead, but there was no heat, and no sweat either.

“What do you think happened to him?” asked Sebastian, hovering behind.

“I am not a healer, but I will try to check. Help me put him on the closest cot” he replied, and soon they heaved Anders’ surprisingly heavy body for how little he seemed to eat up, and laid him carefully on the cot, where Fenris would be able to look more closely at him.

“I am not sure, but it looks like overwork was the cause” said Fenris after a few minutes of diligent inspection, while checking the pulse and iris reaction just to be sure.

“How do you know?” inquired Sebastian.

“He clearly slept, as there are no dark shadows under his eyes, so he didn’t pass out from lack of it. However, now when he is sleeping, I can hear that his resting heart rate is higher than it should be. Other than this, we both saw him stumbling, but beyond that, when he wasn’t surprisingly quiet he was more distracted and irritated than usual lately. Prolonged bad mood is also a sign of overwork”.

Sebastian nodded as if to agree it was all true. “Should we wait till he wakes up?”

Fenris looked at Anders, still unsure if his diagnosis was correct. If it was truly just overwork catching up with the mage, wouldn’t Justice step in and wake him up by now?

“That would be best. He is alone and vulnerable now, and I would rather not leave it to chance that he won’t wake up at all if we leave or someone will break into the clinic”.

They waited an hour, maybe two, before Anders finally stirred and groaned, signalling that he is in fact still alive. Fenris moved closer to help him sit up straight, while Sebastian went to prepare some herbs to drink for the mage.

“Ugh… Fenris? What are you doing here?”

There was a slur in the mage’s voice that Fenris really didn’t like.

“We came to check up on you and found you passed out on the floor” replied Fenris, before moving aside, so Sebastian could provide Anders with the steaming mug of herbal tea. Mage looked at the drink, and then at them confused, but accepted the mug and drank from it.

“How are you feeling?” asked the prince curiously.

“As if I was hit by a bronto, or stomped at by a drake… how long was I out?”

“We came around noon, so it should be past 2PM now”.

Anders groaned in frustration. “I remember waking up at the usual hour, and then when I was preparing to open the clinic, suddenly the world tilted and then…” he shrugged.

“Do you know what caused this?”

Anders sighed. “If I were to guess, I would bet I was too exhausted and my body just gave out, as overwork is something that cannot be just pushed away with one or several good night's sleep”.

Fenris nodded at that, even though he still thought that something was not right here. He didn’t think that Anders was lying, but the fact that Justice didn’t make an appearance just to at least put his mage back in bed instead of leave him on the cold ground for the most part of the day, didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t know if that was common, but he assumed that if Anders was unable to move, Justice would take over the body in his place. Which was a little disturbing if he really thought about it, and also the reason why he didn’t mention it out loud. He didn’t want Sebastian to mistrust the mage even more. Even Fenris, who expressed healthy wariness of mages, was reluctant to see Justice as a threat to the clinic that he wanted to protect, but Sebastian saw this issue differently, so he decided not to risk it.

“Will you be alright now?” asked Fenris, earning himself a raised brow from both Anders and Sebastian. He should really try to sound less worried and more like his usual self, especially considering that he didn’t even know why he was fussing over the mage like this.

“Yes, don’t worry about me” said Anders, smirking at him, which was actually a pretty good incentive to make him stop caring at all if he did. But he did not. Fenris scowled at him in return.

“Fine. We will be going back then” he rose to his feet and headed outside. “Try to not drop dead while at it”. Sebastian huffed in amusement at his sudden change in attitude, and then went after him, saying at the end. “Your patients and we as well need you alive”.

***

Anders’ should have known that nothing can end well for him.

He thought that he will have time to rest, which was true, but hoping that Hawke will not notice that anything is wrong was apparently beyond his measly luck, considering that he sent Fenris and Sebastian to check on him, when he was away. Figures.

Anders sighed and stared into his tea.

He told Fenris that it was exhaustion, but he was not so sure himself. Something odd was happening. Normally, if he lost consciousness like that, Justice would react in some way. He often didn’t understand that Anders needed to rest, so it was common for him to just wake Anders up whenever he was knocked up. Could it be that Justice realized that Anders needed to be left alone and that’s why he didn’t appear? It was possible, considering the fact that he was found on the floor. Justice didn’t have a body before Kristoff, and Kristoff was dead so his body’s ability to feel was also damaged, hence why Justice didn’t need to eat, sleep, or even just lie down on something comfortable simply because he wanted to. He could now feel a bit of that through Anders, but he still didn’t see it as necessary for rest, which his body will probably keep reminding him off for the next few days.

A thought to berate the spirit for this arose in his mind, but there was no responding stir that he grew to associate with Justice. The feeling that he knew was his, but yet wasn’t. Usually when they communicated, it was without words. Justice had a hard time relaying his will in a body that had a will of its own like a living body instead of a corpse he inhabited previously, so his responses were mostly stirs of feelings that Anders needed to learn to distinguish from his own, and now it was easier for him to see when spirit was responding and when not.

It was however unexpected that Justice didn’t raise to his bait. Did something happen? He searched his mind looking for something, the most fickle of feelings that may have been Justice, and soon he found only a small feeling of reassurance responding to his probing for answers, but nothing concrete. What was Justice doing that his response was something that Anders could roughly translate to “It will be ok?”. That really didn’t help him not to worry!

He sighed again, this time in frustration, then finished his tea, and opened the clinic.

Hopefully whatever is wrong with him will pass soon. He didn’t like the idea of dealing with Hawke and his overprotectiveness. Knowing him, Aregor would find a way to insert himself into his life and force him to stop doing anything until they learned what was happening.

Anders didn’t have time for something like this. He had a revolution to plan.

And he really didn’t need any handsome men to hinder him.

~***~

AN: I seriously wondered if making Fenris and Sebastian run around Darktown frantically isn't a bit too much, but in the end I decided to leave it, because they may dislike Anders, but he is their only healer and if something happened, and they did nothing it'd be bad. Not to mention that Fenris is already interested in Anders, he is just in denial about it. Sebastian is a good friend that will run around with you if needed. As you can see, I'm also fanoning the Clinic a bit, because in the clinic in the game they would probably spot him outright. Let's just say there were obstacles on the way that made them not see him at first.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 8

This section is anachronistic: it should have been in the last chapter. Everything else is chronologically correct.

"Are you aware that you're doing this the hard way?" Obito asked delicately, frowning at Aiko as she meticulously lined the hidden seam in her skirt with tiny flat packets of herbs.

"Hmm?" She looked up. "Yeah, this bit is a little irritating. But we're crossing the border on this trip. Normally I'd just put the haul in my bag, but they'll check that at the post."

Obito sighed. "And you didn't think to use a storage scroll?"

She rolled her eyes at him, finishing her task and making for the door. He walked behind her, a little sullen but willing to indulge her. "You're bad at traveling like a civilian, 'Obi-kun. Civilians can't use those. That would be a pretty big giveaway, don't you think?"

He had to stop and think that over. "Why don't you just sneak past the border?"

"Great idea," Aiko huffed sarcastically, a smile tugging up one side of her mouth. "Me and the two civilians that Ando-san hires to do the heavy lifting will all just be very quiet and get past the border patrolled by shinobi."

Obito frowned. "That's… very strange. Working with civilians. Why don't you just-"

"If storage scrolls are your solution again, I should probably remind you that Ando-san sponsors a lot of trips that I'm not involved in." Aiko raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I could go alone and get the job done faster if I sealed the merchandise. Putting aside how sketchy it is to put comestibles in an intermediary dimension, wouldn't it be just a tiny bit suspicious if there was no trail from people and the wagon on only the trips I go on? Part of what I get paid for is making her rivals leery that there might be shinobi enforcement on any given trip."

Well, and also that Kakuzu had made the poor woman sign a contract on threat of death. But whatever, that was beside the point.

He sighed exaggeratedly. "Alright, alright. I bow to your expertise."

Aiko had to suppress a giggle. She knew he was humoring her, of course. But it was sort of fun that he'd been willing to indulge her by tagging along. Two nights prior, he had finally asked what exactly it was that she did when she went out on trips. The answer "shifty business" hadn't explained much, but it did make him laugh.

"Like, ninety percent of what I do is totally legitimate," Aiko had eventually explained. "I use a lot of the field skills that you pounded into my skull to make sure that no one gets lost, starves, or dies of dysentery on the road. At the start there were a fair few bandits to smack around, but now they're a bit warier." She shrugged. "Hence why I don't have to go on every trip now. Just the long ones, and enough of the day trips that no one can be certain there won't be a shinobi enforcer."

"And they can't figure out when you'll be there based on the trips where drugs are smuggled?" Obito asked dryly.

Aiko had given him a spectacularly unimpressed expression for that one. "Is there some part of the word 'smuggled' that you struggle with? Obviously, that service is not advertised, and no one is confessing to it. It's all word of mouth. I ditch any leftover merchandise that doesn't go to a specific client at a hotspot bar, and they sell the rest."

"I have now learned more than I ever wanted to know about selling petty drugs."

'He doesn't have to be such a downer. I don't sass him about his hobbies.'

Aiko was willing to sass in general, of course. She gave him a toothy grin, eyes creased shut.

"You're welcome, sweet cheeks."

The flinch had been spectacular.

The sound of crates being loaded and packed brought Aiko back to the present, blinking. Obito was slumped at her side against the wall of Ando-san's warehouse. His state of consciousness appeared to be a little closer to 'standing coma' than she'd like optimally.

"You don't have to look so excited," she murmured, elbowing his ribs gently. He pried open one eye—henged brown again—to look at her with tired amusement. "You're going to make me hyper and throw off my game."

"So far, this is not the adventure that I was promised," he sing-songed under his breath.

Aiko snickered. "Sorry, did I say adventure? I'm pretty sure I said something else. If I have to sleep out in the woods, so do you." She raised her eyebrows. "When was the last time you did that, sir?"

"A very long time ago," Obito said dryly. "I've evolved beyond that point."

Sometimes, she thought that Obito might be her spirit animal. The resemblance would be perfect, if only she had a magical ability to travel instantaneously instead of trudging around in the dirt like an animal.

'Not that I'm bitter at all or anything,' Aiko thought with amusement. 'One day, I too will possess such magic. And then there will be no fucking camping, ever again.' Of course, Obito was still waiting for a response.

"I tried telling Kakuzu that I had too, but he didn't buy it." Against her will, she pouted. "Sometimes I think he takes the long routes just to annoy me."

"No, he's just like that," Obito rebutted absently. "He figures that if he has to leave, he may as well get every single errand done at once for maximum efficiency."

"Going twenty miles out of your way to threaten a chump whose loan isn't up yet doesn't seem that efficient to me," Aiko muttered rebelliously.

It was sort of funny, in a really petty way. But it wasn't efficient.

"Hey, do you know how often people try to weasel out of loans?" Obito asked mildly.

Aiko scoffed. Of course she didn't.

"Me either," he confided. "But it's close to zero when Kakuzu is the one involved, so I'm going to have to trust his methodology."

She pursed her lips, but had to nod and concede the point. Their earlier conversation was still on her mind. "Hey, about the storage scroll thing?"

She could all but feel Obito rolling his eyes. "Yes, Aiko. You've already explained why they're not a practical solution. Unless of course our plan is to start hiding storage scrolls, which both is and isn't practical. The chakra signature is very low, so unless you're dealing with a sensor, it's a viable solution."

"Well, that too," Aiko said practically. She cozied up to him, schmoozing. He recoiled when she batted her eyes. "But I was actually thinking that you should teach me to make them. You can do that, right?"

Obito blinked. "Well. I'm not very good, but my sensei was a seal master. So I can manage."

"Really?" She grinned. "That's cool! I want to learn that."

Aiko had no idea why, but she had the distinct feeling that she'd said something very wrong. He swiveled to stare directly down at her, something hard and considering in his eyes. The moment passed quickly. The more elastic side of Obito's mouth curved into a slight smile. "We can go through the basics tonight at camp, then."

"Shall we go, then?" an uncomfortable male voice interjected.

Aiko blinked, having nearly forgotten about Ando-san's actual staff.

"Um, of course. Chūsei and Fukujū, this is my friend, Tobi," Aiko introduced easily. "Tobi, these are Ando-san's employees."

The civilians managed sickly smiles.

'It's almost like Ando-san warned them about my friends,' Aiko thought, turning away to hide a smile. No worries. Obito was much less likely to snap at one of them than Kakuzu was. Even if he was shifty enough to want to use a fake name, what was up with that? Obito wasn't that uncommon of a name.

Well, whatever.

Walking in four hour shifts to accommodate the much slower pace of the civilian escort was mind-numbingly dull. The two nights sleeping under the stars were about as scintillating as Aiko could have predicted, but she did at least have the satisfaction of seeing Obito make faces and fidget in the dirt in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to find a comfortable way to sleep on the ground.

The real highlight was when he kept his word and scribbled out very basic sealing matrices. He made her destroy all of it every night before they went to sleep, since it wouldn't do to be caught with proof of shinobi training at the border, but she didn't need it.

Seeing the symbology was enough. Aiko couldn't remember the names of each stroke and symbol, but she knew what they did and why they were arranged as they were.

And that Obito wasn't a very good fuinjutsu user.

"I'll try to get you scrolls," he eventually gave up, snatching the papers away from her in disgust and throwing them directly on the fire so that she couldn't continue to mock his sloppy workmanship. "They're generally kept under close wraps and passed from master to apprentice."

Fukujū edged a little further away when Aiko nodded and concluded, "So we're going to go beat up some fuinjutsu master for his notes?"

Obito eyed her wearily. "You don't have to be so gung-ho about it."

She lurched over and grabbed his hands without bothering to entangle her legs from her bedroll. "Obito," Aiko said very seriously. "This is for education. Crimes committed in pursuit of self-edification don't even count."

She tried very hard to keep the evidence of her thoughts off her face when two Iwagakure Chuunin shunshined into view, aggressively postured.

Obito flinched, a good second too late for the reaction to do any good. That was harder than it sounded, considering that both of them had fought down the impulse to cut the arriving Chuunin down before the civilians would even have known they were there. Fighting hard-won instincts wasn't easy. To be able to do that and then immediately slip into a less threatening persona was impressive.

'Obito is a surprisingly good actor,' she noted. The trick was to convince the border security that you were nervous (as any civilian would be when frisked by members of a foreign military) but not so nervous that they actually suspected anything. She did have official papers and had made this trip before, so there was no need to feign too many jitters.

She plastered on a smile that was slightly too stiff to be realistic and stepped forward to draw attention to herself, unfolding their travel documentation and holding it out before it was asked for. She had already been holding it, as if she'd been nervously contemplating this barrier for a while. "Shinobi-san? Masashi, with Ando-san's delivery to Saisekiba."

Of course, Aiko was a half-decent actress herself.

The two Chuunin exchanged amused looks, before the slight man with a blue ponytail reached out for her hand. Obito made an aborted movement as if to step between them, but mastered himself.

'Now is really not the time for the mama bear act,' Aiko scowled, grabbing at his wrist.

The other Chuunin, a hawk-eyed woman, gave Obito a hard look, but did nothing. That was probably in her best interest, honestly. If this went south, Obito was probably going to kill the Iwagakure shinobi and the civilian witnesses, which would put a wrench in her little home business.

'If he messes this up for me, I am going to mock him forever. Seriously, it's not that hard to pretend to be harmless and insignificant. Why does he have to be so dramatic?'

Luckily for everyone else, Obito didn't arouse too much suspicion, even when he pitched his voice a full range higher for no apparent reason.

(He was a weird guy, but he was pretty funny in a way).

"Alright," Chuunin #1 acknowledged, handing back their papers. His partner had finished surveying the stock – and ha, that was a point for Aiko, because she was a sensor—and given him a perfunctory nod. "You folks go on ahead. You know the way?"

At the chorus of stiff nods, the woman seemed to take a breath for patience. "Lovely," she replied sourly. "You'll be in town before noon. Enjoy your stay in the Land of Rock, but please remember that your traveler's pass expires tomorrow at six pm."

"Of course, shinobi-san," Obito shrilled, bobbing into a half bow.

Aiko tried not to wince. God, what was his deal? Was he just messing with her head? Or did he just not know how to act around normal people?

She didn't say anything until they were a good mile away from any other shinobi. At that point, Aiko reached over and elbowed him in the gut. He gave a theatrical 'oof!' and cringe, despite the fact that she'd probably done more damage to her elbow than his rock-hard abdominals. "You're not going to be that weird tonight," Aiko ordered, puffing up confrontationally. "I don't want to have to make another friend in this town."

Obito nodded indulgently. Then he frowned. "You have a friend here? In Iwa?"

"Of course I do," Aiko scoffed. "What, do you think I'm going to sleep outside when I don't have to? Hotels are expensive. Much better to make a friend with a nice house."

He blinked at her languidly. "You're a terrible person."

"Eh."

Despite whatever flippant accusations he had thrown about in regards to her relative morality, Obito was reasonably well-behaved when he met Fuji. Perhaps he was too well-behaved, actually. He'd poured on the charm. Aiko could see the moment that Fuji took in his strong shoulders, confident stance, low voice, and made a decision. She hid a smile while Obito politely followed Fuji's nephew upstairs while Aiko measured out Fuji's order and Fuji counted out Aiko's money.

"Is he yours?" Fuji whispered, nudging Aiko slightly as Obito trudged upstairs to the room he'd be using that night.

She shrugged, re-counting her take. "Seduce away."

The other woman—a tall, willowy woman with beautiful brown eyes and impeccably near nails, wiggled her eyebrows. "Is that a challenge?"

"No," Aiko said, bemused. "Go ahead. I don't care. I'm not with him."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"It really wasn't."

Fuji tossed her hair – a glorious, shining dark cascade completely unlike Aiko's messy mop—over her shoulder and gave Aiko a sultry look, hand trailing along the wall as she stepped away in the direction Obito had gone. "Wish me luck, then."

She came back downstairs five minutes later in a decidedly grumpy mood. Aiko, who was seated at the table and scribbling out seal matrices, gave her an amused look as the other woman stomped back in.

"I take it he's all yours? Madly, truly, deeply in love? He'll probably stay here with you instead of leaving in the morning?"

"Oh, shut up."

Aiko wasn't even surprised that Obito didn't have the patience to make the full trip back. They crossed the border back into Grass without incident, at which point he ordered her to bid a fond farewell to Ando-san's real employees, and then grabbed her arm and Kamui'd them the hell out of there before she could so much as open her mouth.

She shook him off, taking in the sight of their front room.

"You really aren't that into nature, are you?"

"No," Obito said sourly. He stalked off like an offended cat, en route for a shower ("one where I won't be ambushed by your touchy friend", he snapped). Aiko may have laughed slightly too loud to be strictly polite.

Two nights later, he did bring her a lovely hand-written book with only one bloody thumbprint on the cover from its former owner. Aiko hugged it to her chest, thanked him, and purposefully did not ruminate on where exactly he had acquired such a thing.

He was a pretty awesome friend to have.

"I didn't even know these were down here," Tenzou remarked glumly. Kakashi didn't bother to reply. Using his Sharingan for such a mundane matter as scanning dirt walls for genjutsu was a drain on his reserves, and he had been doing this for hours now.

"I mean," Tenzou continued, "I was practically raised in ROOT, and I had no idea. Was I not trusted? Is this structure just really recent? Or was this just reserved for Danzo's elite?"

"We'll probably never know," Kakashi said tersely, wishing that his kohai would just stop talking.

He'd just gotten back in from another disappointing mission two days prior, following up on one of Jiraiya's increasingly unlikely leads. As it turned out, there were more redheaded girls around than he'd noticed. Still, as frustrating as failing was, it gave more of a sense of accomplishment than walking around in the dark to check a map's accuracy.

This project was a pain in his ass, and had been even before they'd discovered that the walls were reinforced with fuinjutsu that had to be Danzo's personal make. The blunt, ugly symbols were certainly familiar.

That explained why the tunnels hadn't collapsed or been noticed.

"This is pointless," Kakashi grunted, rubbing at the back of his neck. "We can't collapse any of this until the seals have been removed. I can counter these if I have materials and preparation, but the other teams won't be able to. We need to go back to Tsunade and re-group so that she knows to add fuinjutsu users to the other teams."

"Alright," Tenzou agreed docilely.

The office was already moderately full when they made their way back—not only was Sai there along with Yuuhi Kerenai, but Uchiha Itachi awkwardly existed in close proximity to a talented genin corps kunoichi named Ami who was apparently a deft hand with earth ninjutsu. And of course Sasuke was there lording over them all, coiled on a chair and lurking like some sort of small, grumpy dragon.

"Tsunade isn't here," Sasuke snapped out before Kakashi could open his mouth. "Take a seat and wait."

Obediently, Kakashi sat.

'He used to be so much cuter,' he thought mournfully. 'What happened to the kids I got assigned?'

That led to the unsettling realization that Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura had been assigned to his care five years ago. Sasuke was already seventeen, Sakura would be too. Naruto wasn't shy of his birthday by much, either.

'I suppose it makes sense that they've changed.' Kakashi swallowed, not looking directly at his former student. 'It doesn't seem that long to me, but five years is a long time for a teenager. And- and- seven years for Aiko, that's even worse. They're really not kids anymore.'

The ones that were still alive, anyhow. Sakura would always be a little girl.

"Sasuke, you were meant to keep the rabble out," Tsunade grumped, throwing the door open with a bang. Her apprentice sneered at her, unfazed. "Can't you do anything right?"

"And you swore that you'd arranged missions so that there was unlikely to be any problems while you were gone, so we both messed up." He tilted his chin up, sloe eyes heavy-lidded and uncaring.

The room winced in unison, waiting for Tsunade to unleash righteous fury on her smart-mouthed pupil. Itachi in particular looked horrified, frozen in place.

The Hokage just shrugged. "It's not failing when it's me who did it."

"I must have missed that memorandum." Sasuke tossed the folder he'd been nursing on Tsunade's desk with a slap as she muscled past the crowd to take her seat. "I'm going back to work now. I see you've got a lot to do."

"No, wait," Tsunade commanded absently. "I'll need to talk to you after this." She shook her head slightly, before lifting her voice to address the crowd. "Now, what's going on? Just one person, please." She paused for a moment, and decided, "Kakashi."

"The tunnels are supported by fuinjutsu," he said bluntly, scratching at his head. "I copied the matrixes and can get rid of them, but I'll need a day or two to come up with a counter-seal."

"And a fuinjutsu user will have to be added to each team, yes," Tsunade completed, sounding utterly resigned. "I don't know why I thought this one little thing would go smoothly."

"The underground tunnels, you mean?" Sasuke asked curiously, cocking his head slightly. "The ones that go under the walls to the forest?"

There was an appalled silence while every other person in the office turned to stare at him.

Sasuke blinked, a thin line forming between his eyebrows. "What?"

"You know about the underground tunnels." Tsunade buried her face in her hands. "Dear god, why do you know about those? How? I thought- I didn't know about those!"

The teen rolled his eyes. "I didn't know it was such a big deal," Sasuke droned. "I suppose that explains why she said to-" He cut himself off, clearly noticing the odd expressions that his audience was wearing. "You know, never mind. Why don't you finish your debriefing and I'll regale Tsunade with tales of our youthful exploits later," Sasuke drawled, with a distinct lack of anticipation.

As expected, Tsunade rearranged team assignments so that there was a qualified seal user on each team. Tenzou and Kakashi were separated, and Anko would be pulled in to join Itachi and Ami tomorrow. That was an encounter that Itachi might not actually survive, but Kakashi didn't care enough to summon any sympathy.

When everyone else filed out, Kakashi remained stubbornly slumped against the wall. Tsunade didn't blink twice at his lingering, addressing her apprentice as if they were alone.

"Sasuke, what were you talking about?"

He paused for a moment. "Remember that ridiculous mission in Rouran?"

Tsunade and Kakashi groaned in unison.

"I will take that as a yes," Sasuke noted. "That's how Aiko smuggled us into the village."

The Hokage made a pained 'erp' sound. "I think that was left out of the debriefing," she said, sounding oddly stiff. "I believe the report indicated that Aiko made contact with the Sandaime."

Sasuke snorted. "That's accurate, if we understand 'made contact' to mean that she broke into his office and asked for his help, insinuated that his security needed work, and then threatened to break out and do things her own way-"

"I think I've heard enough," Tsunade choked out. Her face contorted in a way that Kakashi couldn't entirely understand, but could sympathize with. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or put a palm to his face. "That sounds… more familiar than I would like. Aiko does prefer the most efficient way of doing things."

"And not the diplomatic way?" Sasuke half-asked, half-stated. "I am aware, yes."

'Sounds like an Uzumaki.'

Had the situation been less serious, Kakashi rather suspected that Tsunade might have asked herself why exactly she had been trying so hard to get Aiko back. The expression on her face certainly indicated she was thinking along those lines.

He actually felt a little defensive. "Out of curiosity, what's your go-to plan to convince a former Hokage who won't recognize you that you come from the future?"

It probably wasn't wise to let the little edge of aggression slip into his tone, but Kakashi couldn't help it.

Tsunade just stared at him for a moment, baffled that he'd spoken to her that way. After a moment, she sighed and swiped her hand at him, making a quiet sound of disgust. "Fair point."

"Right, well, there you go," Sasuke said blandly, clearly bored with their tiff. "That's the riveting story of why Naruto and I have been down there. She told us not to mention it, and we haven't been back since."

'Well, that answers one question,' Kakashi thought, remembering Tenzou's attempts to guess how old the tunnel system was. It did make him wonder why Aiko would have known if Tenzou hadn't- perhaps Danzo had more difficultly moving his people under Tsunade's rule than he had under the Sandaime's.

Going back down there the next day was a dank and altogether unpleasant experience. Kakashi hated tunnels and being underground in any way other than under his own power. He had since he was twelve, and that Iwa nin had brought a cave down on Obito.

Something twinged in his chest. Kakashi swallowed silently, smoothing a piece of paper over one of the seals. With careful focus he began to trace the counterseal lightning-fast, trying not to dwell on thoughts that being trapped in the oppressive stillness stirred up.

'We never got Obito's body back,' his treacherous mind whispered at him. 'What if that's the body Madara is using?'

But no. It was impossible. He'd left Obito off the admittedly short list of potentially stolen bodies (the Uchiha had been careful about things like that) because his teammate had been brutalized beyond fixing. They'd had an incredibly talented medic-nin on their team who had taken one look and started to cry. Tsunade-sama in her prime couldn't have fixed Obito. His body would have been no use to a skin-stealing fossil like Uchiha Madara.

'Just because I can't see how it's possible doesn't mean I can justify excluding his name from the list,' Kakashi scolded himself dully. 'I'll qualify the addition with what I know so Tsunade doesn't waste too many resources on that possibility.'

God, remembering that they'd left Obito there to die alone in the cold and dark made him feel like the worst kind of scum. Kakashi hated himself so much he might choke on it.

He and Rin had been too weak to save their teammate, and too unseasoned and emotionally unprepared to give Obito a mercy killing.

And Obito had been so calm- so forgiving of their weakness. He'd managed to smile, even with half his face crushed and the visible eye gouged out and acclimating to Kakashi's skull. He hadn't even asked for that one kindness.

'Why didn't he ask us to kill him?' Kakashi wondered miserably. 'He was so much better than me. It should have been me. If he hadn't saved me, Rin would probably be alive. And Obito would have been a better sensei. I got one girl killed in an exam she wasn't ready for, couldn't keep one from being kidnapped, and the boys found better sensei. If Obito had been the one left, everything wouldn't have gone so badly.'

He didn't notice the way his breathing was becoming shallower, but Sai did. The teen gave the older man a wary glance, but remained silent.

It was a long period of days that Kakashi spent in darkness and doubt, gradually collapsing tunnels. But at the end, he added a name to his report for Tsunade that he would rather have left off.

If Madara really had found Obito's body and desecrated it, there would be hell to pay.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true.

Still, he had to know for himself. Kakashi had a lifetime of dodging people attempting to unmask him as material to compose plans for removing someone else's mask.

Obito lingered in the training field long after Aiko had gone back to the safehouse for a shower. He didn't bother to turn around at the long, drawn out sound of a squelch from behind him, followed by a sound like chewing as flesh and plant matter separated.

'They're so yucky,' Tobi shrilled.

Madara quietly agreed.

White Zetsu lurched up to Obito's left side, Black Zetsu stalking to stand silently by his right. The robes and clothing they'd been wearing was left in shreds on the ground, abandoned when Zetsu split into two beings and spawned enough limbs to function from White Zetsu's wood release.

Darkdankcrowdedsmellslikedirtandfear

"She's coming along," White Zetsu observed. Obito still didn't look. The Zetsu had no genitals or much in the way of features at all, but he had no desire to look at another man's naked ass.

"The idiot is incrementally less pathetic."

A muscle twitched in Obito's jaw. Madara laughed inappropriately loudly.

'The idiot,' he humed, savoring the moniker. 'There are worse descriptors.'

'You just don't like Aiko-chan,' Tobi pouted. 'She's not an idiot.'

"No," White Zetsu disagreed. "That is unfair. The child was Konoha's. Obito has only had five or six months to repair the weakness left by their slack."

"He takes too long," Black Zetsu countered darkly.

Another flash—the world went dark in one eye for a moment, a monotonous hell of packed earth.

"I could perform the surgery today if we would like," White Zetsu suggested helpfully. "I'm good with pieces."

Black Zetsu scoffed. "I don't care who does it. It just needs to be done."

His better half made a noncommittal hum.

'They do realize that I am right here?' Obito wondered.

"We need a Rinnegan user to revive my master." He could hear Black Zetsu shift on his feet, impatient. "There is no point in attempting to educate this simpleton in genjutsu. White Zetsu should implant Madara-sama's Rinnegan in the brat and Obito should teach it to use its powers. That is why we have the thing, is it not?" He scoffed. "If it is not useful, we should eat it and find another host."

His teeth were pressed together just a little too tightly.

It was stupid to forget, even for a moment, that Black Zetsu was neither Obito's friend or comrade. White Zetsu and Spiral Zetsu had genuinely been his friends, but those days were gone. Spiral Zetsu was gone and White Zetsu inextricably tied to Black Zetsu, except when he wasn't.

Black Zetsu only served Madara. If Obito didn't move fast enough for his tastes, Black Zetsu would go behind Obito's back. Obito could beat Black Zetsu. Probably. If Black Zetsu wasn't prepared for that eventuality, and didn't have clones or spores sitting around.

In other words, it would be a frustrating, uphill battle and impossible to be certain that he'd stamped Zetsu out. Besides, it would mean killing his friend White Zetsu as well. In a way, that would be worth it to get rid of the dark twin.

'He really would eat Aiko.' Obito crossed his arms across his chest. 'He'd probably enjoy it, the freak.'

White Zetsu breathed in deeply. "It does smell nice," he admitted, sounding a little guiltily. "Fresh and a little sweet. It washes a lot more than the Kakuzu."

"No, I wouldn't want to eat the Kakuzu," Black Zetsu agreed quickly. "Rotten meat. Not fresh. Not sweet."

'Alright, that's enough of that.'

"She'll be ready soon," Obito said tightly.

She'd never be ready. He'd changed his mind, he regretted ever thinking he would revive Madara. The old man could stay dead. Obito didn't need him to fulfill his plan and fix the world. Of course, he did need to keep Black Zetsu off his case. Black Zetsu would be a terrible enemy to have, even if Obito had been in a position of power. With his organization depleted and weakened, it was a stupid fight to pick. Zetsu might well win, if only by playing Akatsuki against foreign and domestic enemies.

And he would kill Aiko, without reviving her later. That would be entirely Obito's fault: she'd never even have come to Zetsu's attention if Obito hadn't selfishly dragged her out as a scapegoat to put off the inevitable fallout for a while longer.

'Why did I get her involved in this? I should have worked alone.'

"How soon?" Black Zetsu pried, standing far too close and looming. Obito was a tall man himself, but the wood release construct stretched to a more impressive height in order to intimidate. "You've been saying soon since you brought it back."

Obito turned away without responding, back tight with repressed fury. He didn't appreciate the attempt to undermine his authority.

"I must resume my surveillance," White Zetsu inserted uncomfortably, backing away.

"Good idea. Don't you have work to do?" Obito prompted Black Zetsu. The friendly Zetsu made a break for it.

Black Zetsu grew teeth for the explicit purpose of favoring Obito with an unfriendly grin. "I'm already observing a target," he rasped. "I put spores on your pet."

'He didn't have orders to do that.' He wasn't certain if he was more angry or unsettled by the implication that Black Zetsu wasn't even going through the pretense of obedience.

Fury was tempting, but it wouldn't help anything. The information Black Zetsu had just taunted him with needed to be acted upon. It was a definite threat: Black Zetsu's spores could be activated at any time and used to immobilize or kill a target.

"Make sure Suigetsu hasn't gotten himself killed," Obito ordered stiffly. "I will take care of Aiko."

Fine. It wasn't ideal, and there was no point to it other than putting Zetsu off. But she was healthy enough that the transplant was unlikely to kill her, and seemed loyal enough so far. He would have liked to wait longer to ensure that she was committed, or take the Rinnegan himself… but if he did that, Zetsu would know he had no intention of sacrificing himself to reanimate Madara. The gesture would be pointless.

And… Well, if he asked Aiko for permission to conduct surgery, she was going to wonder why. She wasn't dim enough to fail to notice waking up with a sore head and new eyes, so he would have to tell her something. That conversation would certainly give away an agenda, but he could also follow Madara's lead more directly.

It wasn't as if Madara had asked permission to implant his eyes in Nagato's skull.

No, Madara had put the boy's parents under a truly stupefying genjutsu, had Zetsu perform the surgery, and let the little idiot think that they were an Uzumaki bloodline technique.

'Technically they are,' Obito had to admit in the interest of fairness. 'They're just not an Uzumaki bloodline trait that can be activated without Uchiha dna.'

So it was barely even a lie. Not bad.

"Three weeks," Obito decided. "I'll have it done in three weeks." Black Zetsu paused in his steps, but nodded and sank into the ground.

Naked bastard.

As if he didn't have enough to worry about.

Thestenchofearth,moistandfoulandinescapable

God, was that going to stop? There was just long enough between the visions for him to calm. That meant that every vision was jarring.

'I might be going mad.' Obito laughed once, mirthless and quiet. 'Or maybe I feel guiltier about this than I realized. I can't think of another reason that this eye keeps dwelling on darkness and doubt.'

Against his will, one hand reached slowly up to his face, towards the Sharingan that was originally his.

'I'm not underground,' he told himself. His tongue slipped out to lick dry lips. 'What is this, my subconscious telling me that I'm about to undergo a drastic change in ideological position? Or have I become the Madara in the scenario?'

He huffed. What a terrible thought. It'd be nice if he could stop dwelling on such morbid memories.

Of course, he was going to be channeling Madara very soon, so the thoughts of those days underground were probably appropriate. Pein had been an idiot. Hopefully, that was a coincidence and not an effect of having Madara's eyes implanted in his head. It would be most distressing if Aiko atrophied into a similar state of mental acuity.

He was actually a little leery about that part of the plan. Those eyes… Well. They were completely unprecedented. Not only had Madara activated the Mangekyou Sharingan, he had finagled himself the Rinnegan. Neither dojutsu had ever been studied. There was every chance that there was some sort of side-effect that Madara had been unaware of or simply not bothered to share.

'After all, Uchiha eyes weren't mean to be used by other people.'

His hand twitched toward the socket that should be empty before he stopped it. Bakashi was famous for that damn eye in large part because he couldn't turn it off. Judging by Nagato's use of the Rinnegan, that dojutsu did not consume a similarly prohibitive amount of chakra—or perhaps it did, and he had only survived because of the impressive chakra reserves inherited from his Uzumaki ancestors. If that was the case, Aiko may well be completely useless for a long time while she acclimated and the constant strain stretched her reserves.

And the entire procedure may well be pointless, except as a feint to keep Zetsu happy for as long as possible. Obito severely doubted that Aiko would ever be able to use the seven paths that the Rinnegan enabled: which mattered because the technique was required to build up the chakra necessary for revive someone long-dead like Madara. That inability was mental, not physical.

It wasn't funny, but he had to chuckle.

'It's a problem that I can't fix, no matter how much chakra and power I throw at it. How frustrating. I trained until my hands bled, but I'm certainly not a therapist. That's what she needs. She's cracked. Functional, but too damaged for my purposes.'

Zetsu couldn't find out—if he did, he'd kill the girl. But it was perfectly plain to Obito that she had not dealt with the trauma of her death at all. She was nearly crippled whenever she seemed to remember that it had happened.

'It was a mistake to tell her.' He began to walk back to the house, taking the long route. 'I should have thought of a better way. Why did I ever think that she would cope well with that information?'

That had been his fault, and he would own up to it.

Of course, he absolutely could not have predicted that she would possess a bizarre and completely inexplicable phobia of puppets. It really was perplexing.

(What the hell was so intimidating about glorified dolls? They were just another tool.)

Regardless of the lack of logic behind that particular fear, it did seem to cement the likelihood that she would be paralyzed at the prospect of being asked to turn corpses into puppets and enact her will through them. Inconvenient, to say the least.

'Life works in mysterious ways,' Obito mused philosophically.

Ah, well. He didn't need Madara to cast the Tsukyomi. What he needed was the nine bijuu. That could be accomplished, though not easily. If he didn't manage to acquire them all in a brief window of time, it would become exponentially more difficult. That window was rapidly approaching, now that the great nations had forgotten Akatsuki in their struggle for power and land. He just had to play them off each other for long enough that when the first two jinchuuriki disappeared, their home countries blamed their enemies instead of Akatsuki. After that, it would be a rush to snatch the rest before communication resumed between the shinobi nations and they realized what was happening.

And that? That, he could do without a single Rinnegan Path.

'Chakra chains would be helpful, though,' he had to think ruefully. 'How simple would it be to capture a jinchuuriki if their demonic energy could be contained?'

Wasn't that bloodline activated by stress?

That brought up interesting possibilities. Of course, he'd have to prepare Aiko for the Rinnegan before he tried to shock her into re-discovering her chakra chains.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and his dark thoughts away, and kicked the door open to step out of the sun's gaze and into the cool house.

'There's no time like the present.'

"Aiko?"

She jumped, just a little, when knuckles rapped gently on her door.

"What's up?" Aiko called in response, sitting up but not getting off the bed.

After a moment, Obito pushed the door open and leaned against the doorframe. Huh. He didn't often come to her room. She eyed him up, letting her book slump down to rest on her lap.

'He looks tired and stressed.'

She bit her lower lip thoughtfully. She'd never have known from his body posture, of course. But the dark circles under his eyes sort of gave it away. It was sort of sad that he was so used to feigning alertness and full strength that he was putting on an act in his own house.

"What's with the face?" He drummed his fingers against the door, nearly blocking out the view of the hallway. Aiko was reminded that he was a pretty big guy, for someone with not a pound of fat.

"Nothing. Why don't you come in?" Aiko patted the bed and scooted over, creating an inviting space as she put the novel she'd been reading on the bedside table. She raised an eyebrow in expectation.

"That's a little inappropriate," he said distantly. Actually, he looked distant in general—his eyes were directed into her room, but she really wasn't sure he was seeing her. The effect was unnerving.

'Is he even okay? Something has to be stressing him out. Not that he'll tell me if I ask, but he doesn't seem well…'

She made a cute pout to keep the mood light. "Please? It's gotta be better than lurking. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. Your virtue is safe."

Obito gave in with a reluctant smile and sat gingerly—on the floor, using her bed as a backrest. Fine, she could work with that. Aiko flopped down onto her belly and tangled her fingers in his hair, scratching absently at his scalp. She had to tug the mask settled on his head off entirely and settle it on her bed to free up space, but Obito didn't protest other than with a sleepy grunt.

He rebuffed her sometimes, but she could tell that he really was a tactile person. Obito liked contact as much as she did.

'He just gets really weird as soon as it passes some invisible boundary of what he considers indecent,' Aiko mused. 'In a weird way, he's sort of an old-fashioned gentleman. He'll beat the tar out of me in training, but he won't hold my hand.'

"This isn't how you're supposed to have a serious discussion," Obito tried unconvincingly.

She gave a low hum and switched from scratching to rubbing circles behind and above his ears. He went nearly limp, putty in her hands. He only reacted when she ducked her face and rubbed the tip of her nose against his hair, sniffing slightly. He smelled comforting and nice—like man and something crackly.

"What, are you a dog or something?" He swatted over his head gently, skimming her hair.

She grinned. "Woof," Aiko said solemnly. "Anyway, I don't see why we can't have a conversation like this. I think you're tense. So I'm fixing you." He couldn't see her scrunch up her nose cutely, but the gesture was more for her sake than his anyways.

He sighed, but didn't pull his head away.

"Do you still want to come along on one of my missions?"

Her fingers stilled for just a moment. "What, really?" She pulled his head back enough to blink down into tolerantly amused black eyes. "Yes, that sounds peachy keen. I'm ready for an adventure. Where are we going? When are we going? Are we going to meet new people?"

"So hasty." He reached back and knocked gently on her hand with his knuckles. She playfully threw the hand away. "How's that jutsu coming along?"

Oh. She wilted, just a bit.

"Fine," Aiko muttered, rubbing the edge where his hairline bled into his neck. "I'm really good at it. The best."

He snorted. That was response enough, really. As it turned out, she had no talent for ninjutsu. Just none at all. Obito couldn't tell her if that was how she had always been or if it was a new problem, but she just didn't have the instinctive knack that a ninjutsu specialist needed.

Someone with innate talent could learn a new jutsu in hours and manipulate the techniques for effects that others would never be able to achieve with years of practice.

Unfortunately, she wasn't that type of person (though sometimes, she felt such frustration that she thought she must have known one of those unfair geniuses).

'At least I'm good at hitting things,' Aiko consoled herself. It seemed strange and unfair that she'd get genetic coding that gave her a short reach when hand-to-hand was her most natural skillset, but she'd cope. Somehow.

"Well, you're going to need it soon," Obito sighed, pushing his head slightly into her questing fingers. She could all but feel him melt. "You have the hand signs down, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Aiko assured him. "The memorization and speed aren't an issue. I struggle with the regularity of chakra output a bit, though." She scrunched up her nose. "For some reason, I really want to mess with the proportions much more than I need to. Like I think that I need to overcompensate with my physical chakras."

She could feel his head move ever so slightly as he shrugged. "That'll have to do."

"Does that mean we're going to go get a jinchuuriki?" Aiko had to frown. What would a human sacrifice look like, anyway? She knew that Obito had said they were just demons put into a human's body, but did that mean they just looked like regular people?

She shuddered.

'That thought was unexpectedly creepy. Let's not go there.'

"That's the plan. You're going to be with me, since I haven't taught you the projection technique yet." She could all but hear him frown—it was in the way that his voice got a little lower and his consonants became carefully pronounced. "I doubt that I'll have a lot of trouble with this one, but you never know." He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly. "It would be easier if…"

"If what?" she prodded, leaning over him and tilting her head.

Obito looked chagrinned. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's no big deal."

A sinking feeling told her that it was, in fact, a big deal.

"Something else that I forgot?" Aiko asked mournfully. She bit her lip, pulling back into herself a bit and curling her back. Great. Just great.

He took a quick inhalation- and then hesitated.

She already knew that whatever he was about to say would be a very unconvincing lie, so she used her grip on his head to push his face down, pretending to be absorbed in giving him a massage. "Don't lie to me."

His shoulders, so much broader than her own, deflated slightly in her peripheral vision. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and talked a little louder. "Your bloodline."

Aiko blinked. "What, the eye thing you mentioned a relative of mine having?" she asked, unsure. "That would be a good thing?"

"Well, yes," Obito admitted. "Although not necessarily the eye part, in that scenario. That'd just be a side effect. Uzumaki also have a genetic possibility of developing something called chakra chains, which are very good to fighting jinchuuriki and restraining bijuu. Demonic energy is very corrosive, after all. It can melt the flesh right off your bones."

(He politely pretended not to notice the shaking of her hands at that point.)

"It doesn't matter, though." He leaned forward and twisted to smile at her. "We can handle it. I just worry. Actually…" He took a breath. "Maybe I won't take you on that mission. I just don't want to risk it."

'I can handle it! I can. Give me a chance.'

Her jaw dropped open at how unfair that was, but he kept going.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Obito said sincerely, giving a gentle smile that creased his eyes nearly shut. "Maybe a different mission, yeah?"

It was hard to maintain an indignant attitude in the face of his genuine goodwill. "Yeah," Aiko agreed quietly.

He left not long after that—left her room and then left the safehouse the next morning. But Aiko didn't let the conversation fade from her mind. She couldn't be mad at him. She could be a little mad at herself, though. If this Nagato chump could activate that bloodline, why couldn't she?

If she had a bloodline ability that came with funny eyes and magic chains, it seemed like a thing worth pursuing.

"They're going to get that Ame woman released," Michiru warned, setting down a tray with a stack of papers on one side and a plate of cookies on the other. "There's precedent for a kage being let on bail so that the country don't suffer, honey."

A shrugged good-naturedly, stuffing a sweet in his mouth whole while his secretary bustled behind him and opened the window. C and Darui made longing eye contact from across the room, but remained professionally silent. They probably weren't going to get any cookies.

"I can put that back as far as possible to give Ame time to worsen. Nothing can be finalized without our participation." He frowned. "Though I can't actually be seen as constructive."

(Obstructive, C corrected silently. The word was 'obstructive.')

His elderly secretary clucked her tongue and shuffled back over to his desk to pat his cheek. "That's nice, dear. The third letter from the top is actually about that."

"Oh?" A shuffled the first two envelopes off to the side onto his desk and pulled out the specified paper. "Let's see…" He squinted, tilting his head.

Darui repressed a sigh. It was a good thing that the general populace was unaware that their Raikage let his great-aunt all but run the office. Michiru-sama was a very nice lady, except for all the poisoning, but she hadn't been selected as Raikage.

"That deteriorated quickly," A noted in a mildly impressed tone. "Riots, starvation, and - the slave trade? Ame has a slave trade?" He huffed, shaking his head. "I thought Ame had enough problems."

His great-aunt let out a polite titter, shuffling off to the kitchen around the corner. "Well, what do you expect? That would be the definition of anarchy. A country falls apart in a surprisingly short time without a leader. And their shinobi village has always been weak."

"Yes, Oba-san," he agreed easily.

(The ruling family in Kumo, C ruminated, was really rather terrifying, in a way that tended to get underestimated).

"Is there precedent for how long it'll take for a request to have the Ame woman released?" A asked, leaning back and stuffing another cookie into his face. "That Hokage woman is going to fight this, so she'll be trying to get Konan-san out. I don't know how competent she is, but any kage will do a better job than the local lords pussy-footing about now."

"I know," Michiru hummed. "I know, love. She'll want Konan-san to put Ame to rights before the trial. It'd be months before Konan-san is released under ordinary circumstances, but I'm afraid that the situation might get a rush order." She shook her wobbling head sternly. "I'd suggest stalling communications to buy time. She can't be released until the trial details have been confirmed so that she can sign agreement to return in time. They'll be doing their best to get a non-shinobi mediator, possibly from the Land of Iron or an uninvolved Daimyo." Michiru frowned. "You could attempt to compromise the partiality of potential mediators to narrow down the list of candidates, and then interfere with the internal operations of the most likely leaders."

A grunted, spewing crumbs. "I like it," he agreed genially, smacking a fist down on the coffee table. "That sounds fun! A trade embargo might do it, or we could more directly go in and intercept messengers." He slammed his meaty fist into his right palm.

C cringed. He was very glad that he served the most powerful country in the world, and not their enemies.

"You have such good ideas, honey," Michiru crooned fondly. The Raikage grinned, puffing his chest out and rapping his fingers against his knees.

It made sense to sabotage Ame's ability to function as part of their plan to argue that Ame couldn't function as a nation and should be dissolved. But the execution of that plan was brutal. A lot of people were going to die in Ame.

"Can I have a sandwich?" A asked hopefully.

Michiru brushed off the front of her dress and smiled, smearing a bit of red lipstick on her teeth. "Of course, dear."

C was very glad he served Kumogakure.

Two days after their disappointing conversation about chakra chains, Obito was waiting with a cup of coffee when she came downstairs with her hair still wet from her shower.

"You're back sooner than I expected," she observed.

He shrugged without looking up.

So helpfully chatty. That was… a little unusual actually. He could generally hold up a conversation on the times that he hung around without starting a training session. Aiko tried again.

"I didn't know you'd be staying at this safehouse," she commented, wringing a little bit of damp out of her hair before she sat at the table. "Usually you're gone for a while. Are we having practice again? I think I might be getting somewhere with that light refracting genjutsu."

"I'm not," Obito said absently. "I'm just stopping by. There was something I wanted…" he trailed off, but never finished his statement.

Aiko stopped and really took a look at him, now that they weren't throwing things at each other and trying pathetically to slip underneath the other's notice. (Okay, that was all her. He could genjutsu like a pro. She was apparently completely without talent in every shinobi art but fuinjutsu and taijutsu. Depressing).

'He looks like he hasn't slept in days. And he didn't bother to clean up after he came in from wherever. Ew. Also, not like him.'

She swallowed carefully. "How are you?"

He glanced over with sunken, tired eyes. She couldn't help but note that he looked paler than usual, and just a little too thin. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Aiko half-accused, not pleased that he was so obviously lying to her. "You look tired. Maybe you should lay do-"

"I said I'm fine!"

She jumped, eyes wide as his palm slapped down on the table with enough force to send it shuddering. The coffee cup clinked and shattered against the wood, sending scalding liquid flying. Aiko jerked her hand back reflexively, but not in time to keep her left arm dry.

Obito looked about as surprised as she did. Maybe he was surprised to see the spilt liquid—the voice that had shouted had been pitched lower than his usual speaking voice. She was starting to see a pattern.

'That is not normal,' Aiko thought, hating the chill that ran up her spine. 'Not normal. I know he's always had mood switches, but never like that. Not- not yelling and hitting things.'

Shamefully, at that moment, she couldn't help but remember just how physically imposing he was, and how strong he was. That wasn't fair, that was stupid. Obito would never hurt her.

'But he doesn't always seem like Obito. He's someone else when he's mad.'

And that was why he needed someone to take care of him. He didn't even seem to know.

'Something is very wrong with him. He's sick. He needs help.'

Of course, she had no room to talk. She was a walking corpse and she dreamed about killing people and occasionally about searing heat ripping her skull open. Aiko wasn't quite positioned to cast judgment about someone else's mental health. They needed each other, that was fine. It meant she wasn't alone and he wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry," Obito said gently,

Somehow, she forced a wooden smile onto her face. "It's alright. I didn't mean to upset you."

Impossibly, that seemed to make things worse. He shook his head and grabbed her hand when she reached out to gather the broken glass. "No- leave it. And please don't say that. I'm sorry. It's not your job to avoid upsetting me. I have no excuse for losing control like that." With one last regretful glance, he pushed his chair back and crossed the room to grab a hand towel. "I'll clean up. Is your hand alright?"

The skin on her wrist and forearm was red and swelling. Aiko pulled it off the table and put it on her lap, out of sight. "It's fine. Are you alright?"

He paused, letting coffee soak into the grey rag. One hand slowly drifted up towards his face, but he didn't actually touch his eye. Good thing too, she noted with concern. It certainly wasn't safe to go from cleaning up glass putting your hands on your eye. Feeling a little nervous about just how close his fingers were hovering, Aiko stood and took the two steps necessary to use her right hand to gently pull his arm down.

"Obito?" she asked quietly, covering his hand with both of hers.

For the first time, he looked in her direction and really seemed to see her. Obito gave a barking little laugh but didn't pull away. "It's childish, I'm afraid," he admitted with a rasp. "I keep seeing things. I'd say they're nightmares, but they're more like quick flashes of vision. I think I'm dwelling on bad times. I had a terrible time finishing a mission that should have been completely mundane. It was all very pathetic."

She stayed silent.

"I keep thinking that I'm seeing- that I'm underground again," Obito admitted. "and feeling so miserable. Thinking that I'm a failure and claustrophobic and I just can't stop thinking about that day." His hand shook a little. Concerned, Aiko pressed her fingers against it a little more firmly.

'I don't know what to do,' she realized, shivering unpleasantly. 'I want to help him but I don't know how.'

"Aren't you going to tell me to let it go because it's not real?" Obito asked, sounding oddly defensive. "Focus on the now and all that?"

Aiko didn't know what he was looking for- condemnation or judgment perhaps. She shrugged, uncomfortable but unwilling to let go. "It's real. If you feel it and remember it, it's real. I wish you were happy, but telling you not to be sad doesn't help."

He choked, shaking his head. "You don't even know what I'm talking about."

She wasn't sure if he sounded amused or derisive, so she kept her face clear.

"I suppose it's the day my life changed," Obito decided, with a dark sort of humor. "The day Konoha thought that I died."

Aiko became very, very still, because if that didn't sound like a trigger, she didn't know what would. Unconsciously, she tugged the hand she was holding closer and held it to her chest like a comfort blanket.

"I had two teammates," he said quietly. But he wasn't really talking to her. Obito's eyes were distant. Maybe underground again, remembering things he'd rather not. Aiko shivered.

"Rin and Kakashi." The emotion with which he pronounced each name was not remotely the same. 'Rin' was delicate and quiet, like something holy. The emotion attached to 'Kakashi' was different. There was something angry shuddering beneath the surface of that word.

"He didn't want to get her when she was kidnapped," Obito recounted distantly. "We fought, and I left. I ran into trouble- and he came back for me."

Kakashi sounded like he needed to make his mind up.

"He took a blow for me that ruined one of his eyes." Aiko winced. "And then when we found Rin, and the cave tumbled down, I pushed him out of the way of the rock that would have killed him." Obito laughed, short and bitter. "I don't know if I regret that or not. At the time, I begged Rin to give him my eye, so that I could still see the world. I didn't say it, but I was so scared. So scared to die." He cleared his throat and said so quietly that she had to strain to hear. "They just left me there in the dark. They should have killed me, if they didn't care. They never came back. Not even looking for a body."

The pain and confusion- a child's voice asking why- almost physically hurt her.

Eyes hot, Aiko took a step in and nudged her forehead against his chest, like a cat asking to be pet. She couldn't speak. Every word he said was quiet and terrible, inexorably drawn out of his chest. She didn't want to hear any more, but she couldn't stop him either.

"and then Madara found me. Less than a year later, Kakashi killed Rin."

'What.'

That shocked her into a flinch, drawing her chin down nearly to her chest. It sounded like there was a story there. She definitely was not about to ask.

"At least in my head, it all started when the rocks came down in that cave. That's what I've been thinking I'm seeing for the past two days," Obito finished, his voice clearing up. He gave a little huff of a laugh. "So, what do you think?"

"I think your teammate sounds scary," Aiko said into his chest. His hand, still caught between hers and pressed between them, twitched comfortingly. "They should have come back for you. I would."

He gave a shocked laugh, shoulders shaking a little. "He's not that scary. But thanks." Obito took a step back, tugging his hand out of her grip as he turned away and collected himself. Aiko let it go. He clearly didn't want her to linger on his little fit, so she turned to the window and put her hands on her hips, staring out into the sunshine. It'd be harder to wallow in misery and bad memories about being trapped in the dark when you were out and about, wouldn't it?

"I don't feel much like training today," Aiko said contemplatively. "Let's go out and do something fun. Outside."

Obito looked wryly at her, clearly knowing what she was doing.

"Really."

"Yepp." She rolled her neck, breathing in deeply. "I think it's time for an adventure."

"I have places to be."

"They're really not that important."

"Oh, yes they are."

"As important as going out to do something fun? You could take us to Iron and we'd see a movie."

Obito opened his mouth, considering. "…You're not suggesting this because that awful Icha Icha movie just came out, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Aiko scoffed. "That's not out yet. But you are totally taking me to that. No, we're going to see a Princess Fuin movie."

The Icha Icha movie wasn't going to be out for weeks. Although she had heard about a special screening up in Iron country where filming had been done that was rather intriguing.

[asfarchivalandtransportdiv]

🦺: "This thing on? Ok here we go. Hello there! The names Howard. I'm an Anon working for the ASF in the Archival & Transportation Division where life is BORING. Well not too boring but still gets a bit tiring. So if you have anything you'd like to know about Me, The ASF, or my Job feel free to ask!.... I got nothing else better to do...."

>==============================================<

About: This is a RP / Ask Blog for a little thing that started off as a joke but then I loved the idea so much I made this. The ASF or Anon Special Forces is like a Silly Dimensional version SCP Foundation. The ASF deals with Dimensional stuff so this blog doesn't have a Fandom so anything goes! The Transport and Archival Division of the ASF deals with transportation and documenting Artifacts, assets, Equipment and more. It should be of note that not everyone in the ASF is an Anon. Feel free to ask questions about the ASF or its history!

IF YOU NEED ANYTHING CONTACT ME ON MY MAIN! LINK AT BOTTOM! >==============================================<

Tag Key Main Story - Self explanatory

Response Filed - Ask Answer

Mystery File - Anon Ask Answer

OOC - Out of character, response or notice.

Incident Report - RP Interaction (They will be canon to the story)

History Time - ASF History, Events, Lore, Interaction, You know what I mean.

>==============================================<

Rules:

-Basic DNI

-No NSFW Content (Jokes are ok)

More stuff on my main. link is at the bottom.

>==============================================<

Muses:

🦺Howard - He's an Anon who is part of the Archival & Transportation Division of the ASF (Dubbed the AT Division). He is a good engineer and mechanic who enjoys a nice cup of coffee after a long days work.

💠[L.I.L.Y] - L.I.L.Y stands for ArtificiaL InteLligence SYstem and is an experimental AI developed by the ASF. Overtime LILY surpassed expectations and passed The Turing Test and eventually gaining sentience and counted as a living thing by staff. She may not have much of a physical form other then a hologram but she can access most ASF Facility controls. She and Howard are friends and talk daily. (Mainly on @asf-artificial-intelligence-lily)

👁️G̸̡̾Ó̶͙Ṁ̵̤Ǒ̷̭G̷̘̔ (Or Item 445) - In the Storage Wing there is a sarcophagus with a strange human eye on it that can speak. Gomog claims to be locked within the sarcophagus and is a dldritch being of unlimited power while stating "it will destroy us all" this along with other bland threats. Whether or not Gomog is the Sarcophagus or inside the Sarcophagus is unknown. Sooo he's basically SCP-1370 but a coffin with an eyeball on it. He likes to be praised and worshiped but hates "non believers". UPDATE: Its been found that Gomog is a real entity of immense power but is not Item 445. 445 has not been informed of this discovery.

⛑️Melody Turner (Aka Medic Anon) - The sister of The Director and part of the family that adopted him [FURTHER INFORMATION CLASSIFIED]. She is a trained combat medic and member of Task Force Unit (TFU) 77 aka "The Lucky Sevens" and is known for her quirky yet serious personality always capable of making people laugh while also completing tasks efficiently.

📋Alice Jones - Alice unlike most of her coworkers is only part Anon. While her mother is an Anon her father is not and while this caused some friction in the neighborhood she grew up in she always stayed determined. She currently works at the ASF Department of Ethics and has been known to cut to the case and complete any tasks given to her. She practically runs on coffee and has never taken a vacation.

The Director: (Mainly on @director-raphael-turner)

(MORE MUSES MAY BE ADDED)

>==============================================<

Main is @theblackcubeofdarkness

>==============================================<

REBLOGS WOULD BE APPRECIATED!

[libraryofalexianne-jia]

In an article written by Rick Warren, he wrote, "(t)here is a strong belief in our culture that influences every one of us, whether we want to or not: if it feels good, do it. But when you allow yourself to be manipulated by your moods, you are living your life according to your feelings. God wants you to live a different kind of life. He wants you to live a life of faith, not a life of feelings".

Faith is defined by Merriam-Webster as a strong belief and trust in and loyalty [to God]. Putting our faith in someone entails confidence that the object of our faith is something or someone that is genuine, unshakeable, and unchanging. If that whom we're putting our faith in has these characteristics, then that someone would serve as an anchor that would keep us grounded no matter what the world convince us to be, and a compass that would give us direction in times of indecisiveness and through worst cases of mood swings (at least, for all the ladies out there).

Feelings, on the other hand, are defined as an emotional state or reaction; a belief, especially a vague or irrational one. The fact that feelings are described as vague and irrational, and are tagged as just a state clearly reflects its instability. Given its definition, this makes feelings something that we cannot really hold on to in times of confusion or loss.

When I first became a Christian, you wouldn't have to ask me to pray or read the Bible. I was the textbook definition of 'being on fire': I was always excited to commune with God like the excitement of one who is about to ride a roller coaster. I was, in hindsight, definitely walking with the Lord with my feelings. But the past weeks has been a repetitious whirlwind for me (if the term 'repetitious whirlwind' even makes sense to anyone). I have been doing the same things at work over and over, in increasing volume each day. While I successfully accomplish every task I had for the day despite the increase in volume, I happen to neglect some of the most important things that I should be doing, which is to meditate on God's word. When I started working, I used to be able to read and meditate on the Bible while riding the bus on my way to work. But lately, I am just utilizing the trip by catching up on the sleep that I feel I lack. And while I think that I am spending my time correctly, I know deep down that I am losing a lot more the longer I continue on this kind of set-up. I am losing the chance and the discipline to deepen my relationship with God. It was at this point after I came to this realization that I came across the aforementioned article by Rick Warren. What smacked me right in the gut was this line that says, "if you want to deepen your relationship with God, you have to spend time with Him even when you don't feel like it. People who have a regular, consistent quiet time with God didn't get there because every morning they woke up and wanted to spend time with God. They got there because the woke up and spent time reading the Bible and praying even if they were tired or didn't feel like it."

Lately, I just read the Bible whenever I feel like I am in the right disposition to read the Bible (a.k.a. I am not feeling sleepy). I did not notice that I have come to the thinking that I have to be in the perfect condition to reach out to God. Lately, I am just praying for myself; I am praying for the daily provision, that He may deliver me from all evil, and that I  may feel His presence so that all my thoughts, words, my heart, and all the works of my hands will be guided by Him. And while there is nothing wrong with that, I have only done what is within my comfort zone, and have forgotten the feeling of being blessed whenever I pray for my Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria. I belatedly remembered that in keeping a relationship—any and all relationship—there should be effort coming from both sides, one of the best efforts I could do on my side is to pray for them.

Exerting effort is hard; being consistent and developing discipline is way harder. But that is how we will be able to keep relationships. Relationships are always two-way, and our relationship with God is no different. Once we keep up with our part of the relationship, we will start seeing God, His work in our lives, and all His promises coming to fruition. All we have to do is to keep going. Keep going, no matter what. Keep going, and get back up and keep going once we stumble. And right now, I know I have stumbled. But with the new me, I am choosing to get back up instead of having my shame get the best of me like the old me used to do. I am choosing to continue with my life with God than go back to the life I used to live without God. I am choosing God's promises over my own comfort zone. And that may take time, or physical limitation may get in the way, or I may forget from time to time, but all I know is that I will keep on pushing even if I don't feel like it.

I would like to end this post of mine with another couple of lines from the same Rick Warren article: Faith is being persistent. Faith is refusing to give up no matter how tired you are or how many other things you think you should or wish you could be doing.

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

Figure You Out

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/hf85rYS

by KeeoftheKai

A new dangerous criminal launches a campaign of despair and violence onto the City, pushing the citizens into chaos. Young detective Shuichi Saihara and his partner Kyoko Kirigiri are faced with the task of restoring order and tracking down the criminal mastermind before its too late; but when a mysterious survivor appears at one of the scenes, Shuichi begins to wonder if he really knows anything about the crimes at all.

 TLDR: Kokichi secretly leads Shuichi to the truth of a string of murders and the two fall in love in the process.

Words: 813, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Oma Kokichi, Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi's Uncle, Akamatsu Kaede, Amami Rantaro, Momota Kaito, Harukawa Maki, Togami Byakuya, Makoto (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Kirigiri Kyoko, Asahina Aoi, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Akamatsu Kaede/Amami Rantaro, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Additional Tags: is this a collar x malice AU??, Heavily inspired by Collar x Malice, Detective Saihara Shuichi, Bisexual Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi Needs a Hug, Nervous Saihara Shuichi, Top Saihara Shuichi, Sad Saihara Shuichi, Tired Saihara Shuichi, Eventual Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi-centric, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Oma Kokichi Is a Little Shit, Oma Kokichi Being Oma Kokichi, Sad Oma Kokichi, Gay Oma Kokichi, out of character sorta im doing my best, kokichi actually is the leader of a huge criminal organization, Supportive Akamatsu Kaede, Background Akamatsu Kaede, Minor Akamatsu Kaede/Amami Rantaro, i have no idea which characters will all show up but for now, togami byakuya - Freeform, Ultimate Imposter - Freeform, izanami hifumi - Freeform, Maizono Sayaka - Freeform, Celestia Ludenberg - Freeform - Freeform, Shinguji Korekiyo - Freeform, ogami sakura - Freeform, komeada nagito - Freeform, everyone dies, Murder Mystery, Minor Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Kaede Akamatsu - Freeform, Rantaro Amami - Freeform, D.I.C.E members are given real characters, shuichi and kaede are friends, Betrayal, Angst, Fluff, yall when i say slow burn i mean slowwww burn, Kaito Momota - Freeform, Minor Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Maki Harukawa - Freeform, kyoko and shuichi are working together, kyoko and shuichi are friends, kaito and shuichi are best friends, no beta we die like Kaede, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i should note a good few of the characters tagged are dead immediatly :)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/hf85rYS

[hyunsuks-beanie]

The Only One

Pairing: Best friend! Yandere! Jay x gn. reader

Content Warnings: Yandere themes; mentions of drinking; alludes to inappropriate thoughts

Mellow speaks: So yeah. Someone wanted another letter from Jay, and even though the event is long since over, I'm here to post it anyway cuz it was too damn fun!

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod  @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi 

Good morning bub,

How are you feeling today? I hope you didn't get a hangover, I did make sure that you were hydrated, after all. But still, I left some meds on your nightstand before leaving, so take them if you don't feel well. I wanted to be there when you woke up, but I noticed your fridge is almost empty so I'll be making a trip to the store. I'll be there soon though, okay? So wait up for breakfast, and dont strain yourself. You must be tired anyway, seeing as how much you had to drink last night. 

Ah, silly me. You must be wondering when I came over, right? Because I'm sure that as far as you can remember, you fell asleep on Sunghoon's shoulder at the bar. You must be thinking he would've brought you home. But of course I couldn't possibly have left you all alone with him when you were in that state, no matter how nice of a person he is. I can't lie, it had hurt me a little walking out of the restroom only to see you getting cozy with him, or rather, it had annoyed me to think he might have been taking advantage of you. 

But when I noticed you had given in to the alcohol and fallen asleep, I couldn't help feeling my heart soften at how adorable you looked. And so I had no choice but to swoop in and lend poor Sunghoon a hand, relieving him of his task of having to see that you reached home safe. But it's not like I need to come clean to you, is it, since the both of us know I'm the only one you can trust when you're so vulnerable. 

That's right, baby. I'm the only one who should get to carry you to your apartment in my arms, I'm the only one who should get to have you snuggle into my chest and hold onto my arms as I tuck you into bed. I don't mean to come across as creepy or forceful, but I think you already know you can't trust anyone else as much as me to not do anything inappropriate when you're not in your senses. 

I know I'm not wrong, because even if you don't remember it, I'm convinced that realizing you're wearing your favorite pajama shorts ought to tell you that I changed you out of your dress last night, and I'm confident that you know I would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable. After all, thus isn't the first time I've helped you out of your outfits into more comfy ones, and never once have you had to complain about my hand being anywhere it shouldn't be, no matter how agonizing it was for me to not touch you when you looked so beautiful. 

Confused at that sudden confession? Well, a guy does have his needs, though you can rest assured that I'll never cross any limit with you unless you want me to. You have my word. But at the same time, we can't say the same for every guy out there now, can we? Yeah, Sunghoon might be a great guy to be friends with, but you can't just go trusting every other person to keep it in even when you've got your defenses down.

You can't go making yourself so approachable for anyone like that, Y/N, and it makes me worry about you. But that's exactly why you have me, the one who will always be there to keep you safe, away from prying eyes. Don't you worry, bub. I'll always protect you from danger, and I want you to know you're safe with me. 

No, that's not all I want. I want you to know you'll be safe only when you're with me. I know it might sound weird or unbelievable right now, but trust me, it's the truth. And I'm going to prove it to you, no matter what it takes. Because I don't want anyone else to even lay their gaze on something I know only I can treasure. 

I'll be back soon,

Your best friend