#that won't enforce his irritation at ALL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

okchijt · 1 year ago

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could you do an yandere alphabet with zack foster? thanks <3

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! I actually finished both the manga, the game, and the anime not too long ago, so I hope I do a good job here! Zack is one of my favorite anime characters so I hope I do him justice or else this will be embarrassing 😅 And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you and enjoy! ❤

Issac "Zack" Foster -> Yandere Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Zack has never felt the urge to show affection to anyone, nor did he ever receive it. The subject is foreign to him so he never even thought about it, that is until he met you. Surprisingly affection from Zack is delicate at first, viewing you as some fragile object that he can easily break, making him gentle with you at first. As your relationship grows he will become more desperate and intense, no longer holding you as gently as before. He'll press you hard against his chest as he entangles you in his limbs, hiding you away from the world, enjoying having you all to himself.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Is that even a question nobody knows the answer to? He obviously will, before he met you he was always bloody, and during a relationship with you he will continue to get messy if he wants/needs to. Especially now that Zack has you he might even seek it out more, wanting to eliminate the competition immediately.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Maybe, the most Zack will do is whine about you being too loud for him and to "shut up". However, the more you keep your act up the more irritated he gets and besides raising his voice at you he might start mocking you just to enforce the point that if you don't settle down, things will only get worse.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Depends. If it's NSFW stuff, then that's a no. Everything else is essentially fair game though. Zack's gonna force you to do a lot of things if it's for the sake of your health even if you don't want to out of rebellion. You will be forced to eat, wash, clothe yourself, etc. Zack doesn't want you dying on him, so you ain't getting out of this one unwillingly. The same can be said with affection, there is no way you're strong enough to push him away so if Zack wants to hold you or kiss you, he will. Doesn't matter how hard you manage to fight back, you're his and he will eventually get his way.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Never, Zack won't dare to show you even a lick of weakness to you. Maybe while he's sleeping you'll catch him mumbling about something in his past, but that's all you're gonna get because you'll never hear or witness being vulnerable willingly.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He'd find it slightly amusing at first, before quickly changing his mind seeing that you're being serious and telling you to knock it off. Even though Zack is a big strong guy, he would never use his strength to hurt you. Instead, if you continue to dismiss his orders he'll either lock you somewhere to come down and keep you there until you do or physically hold you down or against something until your tantrum is over, all the while telling you to calm down.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No. Zack only plays games with his victims, but you're not prey to him, you are much more than that. Nothing makes Zack angrier than you getting away from him, he'll instantly go berserk, destroying everything in his path just to get you back, and he won't stop until that happens. Once he has you back he'd lock you up somewhere for as long as it takes him to calm down, which we all know will take hours if not days for Zack to do so. Making you rethink each time if escape is really worth it cause even after calming down he'll be harsher to you than usual, and that won't be fun either. Though that will pass with time too.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Witnessing him slaughter people. Zack doesn't really care if you see him commit the crime or not, he doesn't think it's that big of a deal, at least for him. Zack would be so confused upon witnessing your horror over the situation, he doesn't get it and then is massively insensitive about it, making you even more terrified of him and his lack of human compassion and morality.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Definitely not marriage or kids, because let's face it, with him being a killer and his immaturity, none of those things are logically happening, he won't even consider them. All Zack wants is to just have you with him by his side forever, that's all he needs.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Indeed he does. When Zack is jealous he lashes out at the person who made him feel this way. You're his and he won't let anybody take you away from him. Zack somehow becomes even more angry and violent when jealous, how dare someone try to take you away from him he will make sure their death will be as painful as possible. Once he is done with his tantrum, Zack will act cold but possessive with you. He'd barely speak to you and only curse under his breath as he holds you in any way possible, reminding himself and you about who you actually belong to.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Honestly, Zack would act as his normal usual self around you. The only difference is his lack of urge to harm you in any way, instead wanting to keep you safe and sheltered from the world. There's also his overprotectiveness of you, you come first in any situation so Zack will go overboard for you every time just to keep you safe. You can argue he'd be the same as with Rachel, the difference being that anything involving you is taken by Zack 100% even more seriously. Heck, he'd even try his hand at being nicer and gentler with you because of how much you matter to him. Other than everything that involves you, he's still the same old Zack.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Zack doesn't even think of a plan about how to approach you, he'd approach you like any other victim of his, but with the lack of trying to kill you of course. Even if you try to run Zack will catch up and try one last time to be "nice" and "patient" with you, wanting you to come with him willingly as that would be easier for him. If you still refuse, understandably so, Zack will either knock you out or forcefully drag you to his hiding spot/where he lives and no amount of screaming or protesting will get you out of this one.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not at all. Like I said before, outside of a few differences, especially with the ones involving you, Zack acts exactly the same. He's just more gentler and caring towards you compared to other people. But like I said, there's barely any difference between his normal self and his yandere self.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

The only punishment you'd ever get is isolation or more rights being taken away. Zack would never physically harm you, so he'd use other methods to reinforce the point that you are punished. As mentioned before, Zack will lock you away inside an empty room for as long as it takes for him to calm down or feel like you've learned your lesson. When it comes to rights, Zack will just limit the amount of freedom you had before or will take stuff away from you for a period of time that keeps you entertained. He'd discipline you as if you were a child, and even though that may feel dehumanizing, it's not Zack's outright intent to make you feel that way. It's just his only way of punishing you without actually laying his hands/weapon on you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Only the ones that personally threaten, Zack. For example, never go anywhere without him near you. No weapons near you are allowed, for your safety and his. The only human contact as well as interaction is with him only, nobody is allowed to be as close to you as he is, the only exception is Rachel. Basically, the only rights that are taken away from you or are at least limited are the ones where you would have a chance of escaping or hurting Zack, other than that Zack doesn't care how you spend your time. As long as you aren't going against his rules he's fine.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Zack is not a patient person, at all, I think we all know that. That being said, when it comes to you he tries his best to be more patient. Sure at some point he will snap and throw a little tantrum, but he'll be far more careful about it than with anyone else, always keeping in mind not to accidentally hurt you. He'd try to be gentle with his yelling at you, trying not to be as harsh as he usually would be with everyone else, but even that's hard for him. Only for you does he try to be somewhat nicer even when he's being mean.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Not sure, it depends on the scenario. If you somehow escaped him then be prepared to be forever on the run cause he is coming. You have been claimed by Zack as his and that means no matter where you go he's right behind you. Zack would never give up in trying to find you, he'd destroy everything and everyone in his path if he had to, anything to have you by his side again. But if you die, Zack would completely shut himself out emotionally, he'd be a sad shell of his former self. Forever angry and miserable, he would not be able to move on from that, only becoming even worse and more violent of a killer, wanting the world to feel his anger by slaughtering people because that's all Zack would have left. He'd add couples to his list of people he would kill, the sight of happy couples too much for him to handle after losing you. After all, if he can't have you, then nobody else can have that form of happiness that was taken away from him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Nope! Guilt and Zack? Never! There is no guilt or even a thought of ever letting you go in his head, ever. It's not like Zack thinks he's justified or that he's doing the right thing, but there's no way in hell that will stop him from having you if that's what he wants. As far as Zack's concerned your place belongs with him and that alone is enough for him to not think twice about taking you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Curiosity is definitely a part of it. At first, you were supposed to be another one of his victims, but as he stalked you, observed your actions, and got to see your personality and how attractive you were. Zack didn't even mind your smile, heck, you could even say he liked it! It all frustrated him so much, that he could not understand this feeling! The longer he followed you the less he found himself wanting to kill you, but to keep you. So every day he would find you by chance just to watch you, to understand why you gave him this annoying sting in his chest. Zack was so scared and angry for feeling this way for you at first, it made him feel so weak. All he could think about was having you, and that's what ultimately pushed him into making you his whether you wanted to or not.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Seeing and hearing you so vulnerable gives Zack an unwanted sting in his chest. He feels both irritated and worried, just wanting you to stop and calm down. At first, Zack would ignore you, thinking you'll get it out of your system without his help, but the longer you go on the more he feels does annoying emotions. He'd finally snap and tell you to stop, his tone and words harsh but his actions the absolute opposite, gentle and sweet. Pulling you into his arms as he continues to tell you to shut it as he pats your head and runs his other arm up and down your back, in an attempt to soothe you. He'll stay like that with you as long as it takes for you to calm down, absolutely giving you mixed signals unintentionally with his opposite intentions of helping you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Zack will still happily kill people even if they're not in his way in regards to you. Whereas most other yandere's kill out of necessity for their darling, Zack doesn't need that type of excuse and just kills whenever he pleases, even if it doesn't involve you in the slightest.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His immense anger. When Zack enters his temper tantrum, he always makes sure not to be in your vicinity to not accidentally hurt you. You can use that time to escape, but like I said before, Zack will eventually catch on that you're gone and will immediately run after you. No matter how far or long you run, he will always catch up to you and bring you back.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not on purpose. Zack would never hurt you physically, but even though he never intends to hurt you emotionally, he does it sometimes without even realizing it. He may raise his voice at you and use harsh words a lot, this man has no filter and is still learning what isn't offensive or is sensitive for you so he may make you cry or angry sometimes without meaning to.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

I don't think there would be any worship in the relationship. He's not that obsessed with you to actually worship you. Zack loves you on a yandere level, sure, but he won't kiss the ground you walk on, he'd just treat you with more care than a normal person, is all.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As established before, Zack is not a patient man by any means and will at most take him a few days to a week before he snaps and just takes you. The fact he just doesn't take you immediately says something because it means he wanted to study you first to understand this strange feeling you make him feel. Wanting to figure out first if it's just him wanting to kill you, or a new unknown feeling entirely.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not on purpose. Zack would never intend to actually do that, but I can see that happening, depending on how well your mental health will handle the situation of being, loved by an obsessive killer that kills on the regular while having him and maybe Rachel as the only human contact you can get with a poor living situation. So it depends on the person, but I feel like most people would not be able to handle something like this after a while if not immediately, and break.

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yuesya · 1 year ago

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I wonder if in the twins au that geto can sense if Shiki's piloting the body, or even if she's not. Would those two ever trust him enough to tell him?

Is that Satoru?

Suguru's footsteps falter and stutter to a stop in the middle of the street. The distinctive color of his classmate's stark white hair stands out easily against the sea of darker hair colors, particularly in the evening lighting. Somehow, he finds himself automatically turning to chase after the other boy without any real reason for it.

... Well, no, there is a reason. It's late, and while Suguru was returning from a lengthy mission. Satoru, on the other hand, has no such excuse. What's he doing out so late? Isn't he concerned about missing curfew? ... Granted, it was a rather loose curfew that was rarely enforced by the teachers, but considering how they'd just riled up Yaga-sensei the other day, Suguru would really rather not risk it.

"Satoru!"

Of course he's ignored, ugh. Suguru quickens his pace and runs a few steps, turning the corner-

Satoru is gone.

... What?

When he confronts his classmate about it the next morning, Satoru immediately laughs at him and teases Suguru about missing him so much that he's seeing him everywhere. Suguru rolls his eyes and cuffs his irritating fellow first year upside the head, but doesn't think too much about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe Suguru had just been tired-

But when similar occurrences arise on multiple other instances throughout the school year, it's clear that there's something wrong.

Eventually, Suguru manages to catch Satoru on one of his nightly outings. He slides in next to the other boy where he's sitting at a ramen booth, disgruntled.

"You know, you could've just told me you wanted some time to yourself or something, instead of gaslighting me into thinking that I was going crazy by imagining you where you're not supposed to be."

Surprisingly, Satoru doesn't respond the way he usually would. Instead of turning towards Suguru with an unrepentant retort or some other infuriating response, Satoru tilts his head as he turns towards him and-

Suguru blinks. Is it just the dim lighting here, or are Satoru's eyes a little darker than usual?

"Hello, Suguru."

Instantly, he's put on guard. Cursed energy coils beneath his fingertips, and he narrows his eyes, "You're not Satoru."

Fuck. Fuck. Suguru knows he'd followed Satoru out from the school grounds, and he knows that he hadn't lost track of his classmate, so the person sitting in front of him could only be Gojo Satoru -except he wasn't, and that realization felt like an entire bucket of ice-water being upended over his head, with Suguru struggling to keep calm through his horror.

What in the world was going on?

"I'm not, no," 'Satoru' agrees, setting his chopsticks down to the side. "My name is Gojo Shiki. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Geto Suguru."

It's only the fact that they're sitting in a busy area filled with innocent passerby and the distinct lack of hostile intent that prevents Suguru from summoning a cursed spirit or two in order to-

-wait just a fucking minute.

'Gojo?'

Suguru frowns. As outlandish as it sounded... did Satoru have an alternate personality, or something? Furthermore, using the personal pronoun 'atashi' rather than Satoru's typical 'ore'... indicated that this was a female personality, which added another level of unreal to it all.

Was this anything similar to a sort of, 'Jekyll and Hyde' situation? ... So did that make Satoru 'Jekyll' or 'Hyde?'

Wait, no, that wasn't really relevant right now.

"What happened to Satoru?" he demands.

Satoru -or rather, Shiki- smiles, and it's such a bizarre feeling to see Satoru's face smiling like that, small and secretive like there's some inside joke that Suguru doesn't know about.

"Toru-nii is asleep," she says. "He'll be back in the morning, don't worry."

That eases his worries slightly, but Suguru knows that he won't be able to rest easy until he sees that for himself with his own eyes the following day. "And... what are you? Why is Satoru- how did you- when-?"

Somehow, 'Shiki' is able to parse through Suguru's incoherent confusion, a skill that he'd previously only attributed to Satoru. "I am 'Gojo Shiki.' The Gojo Clan's taboo. Toru-nii is my brother, and we've coexisted with each other in this state for sixteen years."

Since birth? "How has no one ever noticed?"

Another twitch of the lips into a small smile; this one decidedly sharper than the first. "Don't you know? Two can keep a secret if one is dead."

Suguru tenses. Shiki laughs, in a voice that's undoubtedly Satoru's but also so clearly isn't.

"You're cute," she giggles. "Oh, I bet you'd make the most beautiful screams if I killed you... but then Toru-nii would be cross with me. Such a pity. Want to share some ramen?"

"..." Talking with Shiki makes Suguru feels like he's getting whiplash. He has so many questions. When he gets ahold of Satoru again, he's definitely going to shake the other boy down for some proper answers, goddamnit. Why had he never told Suguru about something as important as this? What the hell??

"Ramen, Suguru?"

"... Sure."

#QA #zenith of stars au #twins au #Writing #geto is losing his mind

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wyauwu · 6 months ago

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Ace Attorney: Kristoph Gavin

just wanted to put down some notes for a kristoph fic i wanna write whenever i need to take a break from my two pmd longfics

a compilation of four different cases kristoph gavin takes during the seven-year gap. one with apollo, one with beanix, one with ema, one with klavier (not necessarily in that order)

apollo: a month into his employment at gavin law offices. apollo's very first investigation. kristoph notices apollo's incredible skills of observation. if he didn't know any better, he'd almost call it supernatural. he was going to be quite the invaluable asset during trial preparation...apollo becomes a mainstay at kristoph's side from this point forwards. kristoph finds great amusement in making 'justice' puns. kristoph is slightly surprised that apollo doesn't bat an eye at investigating crime scenes, even though it's technically against the law. most rookies are. it's a welcome one. clay terran is the one accused of murder. gumshoe is the assigned detective. either that or (NOT PHANTOM) fulbright takes this case, and gummy shares the spotlight with ema. actually yeah i think i like that better.

ema: ema is willing to help kristoph bc he's phoenix's friend/friend with benefits/romantic partner??? she doesn't quite know what to make of them. kristoph keeps her guessing. this is the first investigation that ema's lead, so gumshoe is there as a sort of...senior consultant ig. not quite mentor. ema has picked up a bit of a smoking habit at this point. it's unbecoming of someone in the force, the smoke irritates kristoph's eyes and nose, the smell is going to linger on his suit, and not to mention the dangers of second-hand smoking...he manages to convince her to put down the cigarette in exchange for stress eating. 'wright gave me these...snackoos, the other day, would you like some?' the day ema hears about kristoph's arrest, she has the sudden urge to pick up smoking again. she won't though. people she admired being criminals? that's. fine. she's used to that. she's not going to let it ruin her. (the snackoos taste like ash on her tongue.)

klavier: klavier calls kristoph to help him figure out a particularly tough case. kristoph jokes about it being repayment for him not being able to face him down in court during klavier's first trial. klavier...isn't sure if he finds it funny. featuring: the gavinners (kristoph is fine with klavier's music career, it's quite illustrious, even if he personally isn't a fan of the genre (too noisy!) but a band? he's disapproving. too many people makes it hard to maintain perfection. and! the commercialisation of law enforcement that comes with a themed band is...well, he's not fond of it, to say the least.) a somewhat comfortable somewhat uneasy brotherly dynamic, daryan (kristoph despises his unruly conduct and lax work ethic, but begrudingly respects his adherence to code and nearly encyclopaedic knowledge of anything foreign affairs), and gavin-typical perfectionism (it runs in the family) also something to do with atroquinine? probably the murder weapon. klavier gets his inspo for his atroquinine song during this case

beanix: phoenix happens to be visiting the office as kristoph goes out for the investigation. kristoph decides to invite him along. 'why not come along? after all, it's not very often you get to relive the glory days, yes?' it's a taunt, a trap, accepting would be to invite pain into himself. phoenix knows this. phoenix accepts. homoerotic passive aggressive mental war ensues. there's definitely some clashing of investigative styles, but even if there's conflict, the unholy union of 'the turnabout terror' and 'the coolest defence in the west' when focused on one goal: finding the client innocent/the truth is merciless and unyielding. this is incredibly distressing to sebastian/eustace, who is the poor soul who has to try and hold back the veritable force of nature about to crash into and tear the prosecution's case apart, by any means necessary. kay is the assigned detective. she's excited to finally meet 'that man', but she's also confused by the whole thing that he and kristoph have going on? she thought phoenix and miles were together... whatever, she'll ask him later. (phoenix might decide to bring trucy along? i will decide that later.)

#wya warble #kristoph gavin #ema skye #apollo justice #phoenix wright #klavier gavin

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verdemoun · 21 hours ago

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wound tending

summary: javier finds himself playing nurse and dealing with an oddly inquisitive arthur morgan who decided he couldn't lay in bed any longer recovering from blessed are the peacemakers

notes: happy holidays!! this is for my @rdrevents Secret Santa recipient, @teawithbee24! hope you enjoy

Time abandoned Clemen's Point for them all. They watched Dutch and Pearson unceremoniously dump Arthur onto his cot, while Arthur coughed and shined with the sickly sweat of infection. A chair was brought to his bedside like they were waiting for the tent to become a tomb, his corpse laying neatly for viewing. When the chaos became silent, Dutch ordered everyone to get back to the mission at hand - whatever that was. It could have been hours or months, yet they still obeyed. The gunslingers worked small jobs, the women did laundry that became mostly bloodied sheets. Pearson cooked with whatever scraps were offered. They ate broth and sat around the campfire. A lamp permanently burned in the quarantined tent, and few were allowed to enter. Fewer were allowed to leave.

Javier cradled his guitar like a shield, first frowning when he heard footsteps coming from the direction that had become a blind spot in his mind.

"Miss Grimshaw won't be happy to find you moving about," the musician warned, the last note of a song cut off lingering like smoke. Watching Arthur was like watching a feral animal explore its new enclosure with cautious steps and a hard stare scrutinizing each new obstacle.

"Keep playing and she won't need to know," Arthur scoffed, slowly and awkwardly lowering himself onto the log seat. His bottom lip almost vanished into his mouth, teeth clenching down like it was a gag designed to muffle the sound of a grunt in pain. Trying to afford him some dignity, Javier feigned intense focus on the tuning pegs of his guitar.

"How are you going?" he asked underneath the sound of the song resuming. Arthur's body went to slump forward with a sigh, before his left shoulder went tight in warning. He settled for rolling his eyes.

"Healing. Which I s'pose is good," he answered.

"You don't sound thrilled," Javier pushed, a coy grin on his face glowing in the firelight.

"I'm not meant to be lounging around. I need something to do, or I'd be better off dead," Arthur muttered in his own misery.

"The best thing you can do for us right now is to let yourself recover," Javier said, voice nearly matching the tune he was playing despite the inflection becoming lethally serious.

"Not you, too."

Javier's eyes darted towards something over the lake: the expansive nothing far more interesting than the irritated, self-pitying scowl on the lead enforcer's face. His tongue found English too clumsy to be sincere in: the brevity of the words not bearing the weight of what he wanted to say.

"It's true. We need you, Arthur. For a few days there, we didn't know if you were going to make it," he said flatly, letting his hands become autonomous as they kept plucking away at strings like any other night. There'd been too many nights that felt like any other: a night where he was on guard duty, struggling to keep his eyes open, when he heard shouting from camp and feared someone had snuck past him. The relief of realizing it was Arthur had already consumed him before he watched the others drag Arthur to his tent, their workhorse too weak to lift up his legs. Someone had barked for him to get back to his post - and shouting became screams as their ragtag medical crew tried to clean the gaping wound in his shoulder.

"I've been shot plenty of times," Arthur mumbled, the pause before his reply more telling than the response.

"Not like that," Javier insisted, forcing the quick flash of a grin as he turned his gaze back. "If forcing you to rest means you getting better, we'll chain you to your tent like a dog."

"I'm not overdoing it sitting out here," Arthur countered, exhaling a silent laugh. The quiet became comfortable, consumed by the persistent soft melodies that came with the presense of Javier's guitar by the campfire. Arthur caught his mind wandering, chasing his thoughts back to the sensation of his foot silently tapping in time to the beat. Despite Dutch's best efforts, music had always eluded him, but he recognized the four-time beat. "What's that song about, anyway?"

"Huh?" Javier asked, brain lagging behind the question despite Arthur's gesture to the guitar.

"The song you're playing. It's the one with the howling."

"El coyotito?" Javier confirmed, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the guitar like a possessed object in his hands. "I don't know. I wrote it while I was crossing the desert."

"You wrote it, and you don't know what it's about?" Arthur jabbed, finally distracted enough from his own mind to snicker. Javier joined in, chuckling at his own expense.

"It's about endings, I guess," he divulged, head tilting as though in his mind he was listening to his own lyrics for the first time. "Death. I'd just left Mexico, having killed a man over a woman - a woman too good for me, who didn't love me, knowing that even though I fled, my family would suffer for my actions. The nights were cold, and I had to choose between lighting a fire and revealing my location, or shivering. For days, the only reason I kept moving was a single, lonely coyote following me. He looked as skinny and rough as I felt. It was like dancing: we were both starving, both waiting for the other to drop their guard so we could move in for the kill. One day, he was gone. I was completely alone, with no reason to go on other than not wanting to die. I started making up songs to keep myself sane. El coyotito ended up being one of the better ones."

"Huh," Arthur said aloud as he thought. Javier flinched as he realized Arthur had actually been listening to his rambles. The corner of the older outlaw's mouth twitched, rubbing his chin to hide the smile. "John's right about you."

"What?" he asked with unmistakable nervousness in his voice.

Arthur snorted. "You are a cynic."

"You're the one that asked," Javier defended, despite the unnoticed tension dropping from his shoulders.

"I guess you're right," Arthur admitted, defeat in the bags under his eyes despite the days he'd lost to sleep. His knees creaked with the strain of standing, a profoundly unsettling pop as he tried to roll his shoulder and caused them both to grimace. Glancing over his shoulder with the affection one would have to a prison cell, he sighed. "I should get back to the damned tent before Grimshaw wakes me up to change my bandages."

"I'll do it," Javier offered, placing his guitar on his old ratty bedroll as if he were about to tuck it in. He was on his feet suspiciously quickly, as if he didn't trust Arthur's legs to carry him the few yards back across camp. "I'll tell her I changed them. She might leave you be for the morning."

"Don't like the odds of me sleeping, regardless," the gunslinger scoffed, obeying the gentle shepherding back towards the wagon hospital he dreaded as much as hospice.

"Just let me see," Javier tutted, unphased by the grumbling as he started to unwind the bandages. With each layer, the cream color of cotton became more yellowed, finally turning red as the last of it peeled away like animal hide from a carcass. Javier squinted as if wrinkling his eyes would distract from the smell - not the pungency of infection, but still unmistakably raw. "It's oozing."

"Weeping. Wounds weep," Arthur corrected, teeth clenched as he braved glancing down to the macerated muscle that was his shoulder. Before his mind captured the details and draw comparisons to the image of trambled rabbits, the wound was erased by a fresh patch of gauze. Javier fell quiet in complete focus, supporting the weight of Arthur's arm in one hand as he wrapped the wound. The touch was strange: Javier's hands far rougher than Arthur expected with how delicately the man preferred to carry himself, but more readily capable of being gentle than any of his other temporary carers. His fingertips looked as flat as trusses, angled by the smooth, solid scar tissue of a lifetime of his favorite instrument: impeccibly clean, but still bearing a permanent nicotine stain between his middle and index finger.

Perhaps when he was allowed the liberty of a pencil, he'd try drawing Javier's hands.

"I think you're better at this than Abigail. Maybe you should be our resident nurse," Arthur teased. Javier laughed, hands tensing with the passing thought of hitting the patient. They softened again instantly, fixing the last length of bandage into place firmly under its own wrapping.

"I'd miss the fight too much," Javier replied, the irony and sympathy not lost on either of them.

"Sure," Arthur agreed, surveying the cot like a battlefield for the arduous task of laying down. "Well, thanks for the company."

"Of course," Javier dismissed, despite the sudden softness in his voice. His footsteps were deliberately slow: mulled crunching over grass instead of the hardened dirt paths the gang incidentally wore everywhere they called home. Sighing through gritted teeth to mask pained muffles, Arthur tried to adjust on the canvas cot without putting weight on his shoulder. Quiet should have been good - it meant those on guard had nothing to shoot at; the rest of the gang were peacefully asleep; even Hosea's snoring seemed a little quieter in Clemen's Point. Arthur stared at the thin sheet ceiling of his wagon-side tent, and wondered if Hell would contain the same silence.

The first pluck of a guitar string seemed as loud as cannon fire wrecking through the still air, nearly sending Arthur bolt upright before the tune became familiar. Javier had moved from his stage at the main camp to the scout fire, facing towards Arthur's tent. It was like the sound was traveling through the earth, vibrating through the tent-posts and wire bedframe. Every sense was assaulted by the blanket of a melody. He couldn't hear anything other than that song if he tried.

Sleep insnared him before he had the chance to consider if their musician wound accept his gratitude.

#rdrsecretwinterexchange #maybe no one else should read this #i mean if you do y'all can tag ship or keep it platonic idm

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stevesxyellowxsweater · 1 year ago

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Stay

PAIRING: Jim Hopper x gn!reader WC: 1200+ CW: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!! Swearing, jealousy, implied sex, reader is an fbi agent, unedited work. SUMMARY: You're sent to Hawkins to find out about the disappearance of Barbara Holland and Will Byers' death and resurrection. You find yourself hitting it off with the police chief, but it seems he's only interested in a one time thing. AUTHOR NOTES: This is just a simple bit of fluffy angst that I've been thinking about, it's unedited so please ignore mistakes. First time writing Hopper so enjoy.

Jim Hopper was a stubborn guy, it was a fact you knew all too well from the moment you became friends with the guy. You'd been in town looking into what had been happening with these disappearances and Jesus like comeback of Will Byers. The FBI had become very interested and sent you to investigate. Hawkins wasn't somewhere you'd expected to be, yet you found yourself there.

You'd sat in Hopper's office, the pair of you trying to be more stubborn than the other. You refusing to believe his answers and him trying hard to dodge your questions or giving you a pack of lies. He'd finally given up and sighed.

“We've been at this all day, can I buy you a beer?”

“That's the smartest thing you've said all day.”

That was how the friendship started, you sat in the bar together that night discussing your love for old westerns. Talking about his divorce and about your separation from your high school sweetheart, you discussed law enforcement, and when the night came to an end you both ended up in your hotel room making the beast with two backs.

Of course your supervisor was less than happy when you called the next day to report that you learnt nothing. Orders to stay there till you did were made very clearly and you found yourself stuck in Hawkins trying to interview everyone that seemed to be connected to Will Byers and Barbra Holland.

Since that night with Jim though, he became increasingly distant, always making up excuses so you couldn't talk to him, always saying he had things to do.

He'd been dodging you for nearly a week when you discovered that the reason he was blowing you off constantly was because of Joyce Byers, you couldn't help but feel a twang of jealousy each and every time you heard her name, or saw her.

They were close, maybe closer than close. All you knew was that you and Hopper were now one and done. Especially while Joyce was around.

You began to become frustrated, all the time you found yourself stuck in this stupid town, wanting to go back home. Whenever you went into Melvald’s and Hopper was there talking to Joyce you became increasingly irritated and eventually started to ignore them. Throwing down your stuff, paying for it without a word and leaving.

It had been about four times that you'd done this when Hopper finally had enough and came out after you.

“Don't you think you're being a little childish?”

“Oh I'm being childish am I? Says the guy who has been avoiding me for nearly two months. I've been stuck here, which is your fault by the way!”

“How exactly is it my fault that you keep reaching dead ends?”

“Because you won't talk to me! I need to finish my damn interview with you, but you're acting as if I'm going to jump on you if we do!”

“I've been busy.”

“So I noticed Jim.”

There was a bitterness to your tone as you looked at him, unimpressed and unhappy.

“Tomorrow, I will be at your office first thing so I can get this shit over with and leave this Damn town!”

“Fine!”

You stared at each other for a moment before storming away in different directions. Joyce stood inside the shop smirking as she watched you two.

“What was that about?”

Bob asked, stepping inside and looking at Joyce.

“Young love.”

Everything over the last two months had brought you to this moment, standing outside his cabin. You'd walked into the office bright and early to find he wasn't coming in today. Anger and annoyance bubbled inside you. You stormed out, got in your car and drove to his place.

“Hopper!”

You'd wanted to be calm and collected, but the moment your knuckles touched the door you banged loudly and angrily.

“Open the damn door now!”

You yelled through the wooden door.

“I know you're in there, this isn't funny. Open up now!”

The door opened and you stormed inside, you didn't even bother to look at him.

“It's one thing keeping whatever happened here a secret. But keeping me here when you know I can't leave without some sort of report from you isn't fair!”

You turned to look at him, his nose was red, his eyes glassy, and he had some sort of ugly blanket wrapped around his body keeping his chest warm.

“Your sick.”

“That right there is why you're in the FBI, so smart.”

His voice was croaky and dripping with sarcasm, you couldn't help but find it hot even though he was very sick.

“Can you get out, I'll give you a report when I'm better.”

The door slammed practically in your face as he ushered you out, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you stood there.

You couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time you were near him, couldn't deny that you enjoyed his scent, or the way he made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Damn you Hopper.”

You left, only to come back armed with cold and flu medicines, vapor rub, soup, and a few other things to make him feel better. The look on his face had been a picture, shock and confusion as you pushed inside and placed down the cold and flu tabs. The Vapour rub, and everything else.

“Take those, I'll get you some soup.”

He stared for a minute or two, before he did as he was told. It had been a long time since Jim had been looked after when he was sick. Every single stubborn bone inside told him to tell you to go, but as he watched you he couldn't deny how badly he was enjoying watching you in his kitchen.

Placing down the soup as well as some fresh bread, you looked at him and smiled.

“You should eat up and then you should rest.”

There was an awkward air between the two of you as you stood there, he sat up and nodded only letting out a grunt before tucking into the soup.

“Feel better Jim.”

Picking up your bag, you headed toward the door.

“Stay.”

His word caught you off guard, you froze too scared to look at him. He was busy slurping soup and you couldn't help but think you had imagined it. Shaking your head, you carried on walking.

“I said stay.”

It was clearer that time, so much so. Your heart fluttered as you turned to look at him.

“Why?”

Hopper took a breath, getting up he hunted around and found a piece of paper.

“Because I like you, and I don't want you to leave Hawkins.”

Walking over you took the piece of paper, you looked at the scribbled messages of him trying to explain how he felt and smiled.

“Joyce has been helping me to try and figure out how to tell you.”

“It's been two months, Hop.”

“I know, I'm a coward.” He said softly as he looked at you.

“You should eat your soup.”

“You should respond to my question.”

“It was more of a demand, Jim. Besides it took you two months to tell me, I'm sure I at least get till you finish your soup.”

Hopper smiled and sat back down, he looked at you and patted the chair beside him. You couldn't help but smile and dropped your bag on the floor and walked over to sit down.

Once he'd finished his soup, he fell asleep. You kept yourself busy until he woke up and told you he was feeling better. But that didn't mean he got out of bed, simply that you joined him.

#Jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #gn reader x Jim hopper #Jim hopper x gn reader #Jim hopper drabble #Jim hopper one shot #Jim hopper imagine #Stranger things fanfic #hopper x reader

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whitefang93 · 8 months ago

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Anyone wants to talk about the kaze hikaru ending 😅😭

Literally going through it 😂

GONNA RAMBLE.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD.

So the best I can think of with the similarity of ending is showa genroku rakugo shinjuu. The father of the baby prospects were disturbing to say the least.

Now kaze hikaru is a manga I'm well aware of, this is shinsengumi girls manga and no it won't be like yumi tamura's basara for it's revolutionary narrative of giving women the lime light and be open abt the misogyny in society. And i really appreciate Taeko watanabe for her openness in writing the series for a particular time period. I was well aware of souji's misogynistic views and him trying to change and accept Sei as a warrior was done well for the most part. Be it earning respect by being given important tasks from hijikata or kondo and Souji's struggle to see sei as a man and woman he loves and as an equal bushi or a samurai was realistic.

But half way through the manga there is stripping away of sei 's agency that irritated me the most. Sei's love interest is one of the reason to keep staying in shinsengumi, her desire to be a woman is connected to souji, and as he proposed she goes back to being a woman, and knowing how keep it real is taeko watanabe, after souji's death she sees no point in living. Her love of her life gone and decides to follow him through bushi way which souji himself stopped by renouncing his own vows of marriage and cutting his hair. It's a death as a samurai first. And i liked the parallels to sei having to cut her hair in the beginning to prove herself as samurai,..I therefore don't believe that souji is any less of a samurai. But his will was so bothering... Did he actually send her to hijikata to get pregnant against her own will? The baby looking like souji, and as a testament of shinsengumi living on through the kid, is .... I'm so sorry i just cannot get over how horrible the ending is...

Sei is a person of her own, doesn't need men to tell her choices. She picked up a sword by her choice against what her brother and even souji told to settle down and give birth or make family. So Am i supposed to celebrate this as motherhood? It literally makes zero sense. While it's a pipe dream to expect sei souji to have a regular life. The ending of her having to bear the brunt of shinsengumi collective loss by giving birth to a child as a kid born at the passing of souji hijikata and kondo and shinsengumi and bakumatsu end is... symbolic but I'm so against using a woman who you ended up enforcing by the end to be a woman and to not give her own choice. Is that all a role of woman in the story went about? Atleast a consent from her end ??

Ughhhhh anyways I don't expect much engagements with this but i wanted to rant out of hearts content.

#women aren't plot device

#kaze hikaru #Kazehikaru #shinsengumi #okita soji #sei tominaga

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star-keepr · 1 year ago

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woooooooooooooo kay writing some headcanons about how I think the Bayverse bros would take care of you if you were sick ^^

(this can be platonic, romantic, or parental, whatever u need rn <3)

Donnie

- I hc him as kind of a momma bird, he'd absolutely *PANIC* even if you just had a slightly sore throat

- One sniffle and that man is ON HIS FEET

- Analyses the heck outta you, will find every single germ/problem and how to efficiently exterminate it

- Will not sleep. It's fine, he only slept a little bit before, and besides coffee can fix anything! (lying)

- Absolutely avoids you at all costs unless extremely necessary (germ transfer can ruin experiments/research!!)

- You essentially just become a test subject till you're better

- Will test all sorts of things on you, and despite the lack of contact, he'll still somehow find a way to apologize way more than he needs to

- After you're better he will sterilize EVERYTHING

- Poor boy means well ;v;

Leo

- He'd get you what you need when you needed it, only doing more if requested

- Not super worried unless it's really bad, will still be protective and make sure boundaries are enforced so you don't hurt yourself (don't go out in the rain, don't get physically active, etc)

- Offers up his room for a sense of security 100%

- I see him as the type to light incense or plug in a humidifier for you

- CANNED SOUP CANNED SOUP CANNED SOUP✨

- Gives u lil kisses on your forehead while you sleep, his calm demeanor is infectious

- Probably believes in a few spiritual remedies, will use them if requested but tries to stick to medical treatment because he doesn't want to feel like he's pushing his beliefs

- Tries to keep you busy with very easy/light activities like puzzles, doodling, fidget toys, youtube/tv (he likes the cooking shows), just whatever is closest/easiest to you two

Mikey

- Wants to get sick with you to get out of having to do stuff

- He would bring out the absolute best comfort movies for both you and him to quote

- Very much a physical touch love language kind of person, if he sees you're upset or not well for any reason you'll get cuddles till you're either asleep or somehow find a way to escape him (impossible)

- Would make you lots of comfort food

- I am a proud supporter of all Mikeys being wonderful cooks ✊✊✊

- The type to try to make you laugh and not bother worrying about germs or 'how bad you sound', you're just fine to him ^^

- Not exactly super careful with you unless you're like *really* sick... He can forget sometimes and accidentally offer to bring you along to do stuff. He means well he's just a lil silly <3

- I could see him just making/giving you lots of things, covering you in his pillows and blankets, sharing all his favorite items/media with you, (trying) to make origami, cooking for you, etc etc

Raph

- Literally won't leave your side till you're better

- He'd say he isn't worried but he definitely is

- Waaaayyyy more lenient with playful teasing/sarcasm

- Seriously he'd be so annoying he'd check up on you constantly to make sure the unsupervised past five minutes haven't gone haywire

- Wouldn't offer it himself, but if you ask him for cuddles/hugs he'll begrudgingly oblige (he's secretly ok with it lol big softie)

- Offers to run errands a lot, and if you feel bad about how much/hard he's working, he'll only work harder to prove it's no big deal

- Extra irritable around others till you're better (probably won't sleep much)

#tmnt bayverse #bayverse #tmnt #tmnt headcanons #sickfic #tmnt sickfic #i personally see forehead kisses as platonic sorry if y'all think otherwise 👀#bayverse is literally my fav version of the turts save for ROTTMNT and TMNTMM <3

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jazlynriddle · 2 months ago

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Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 20:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

"So, they're at it again." Garreth grinned. "Fantastic, I've almost started getting bored."

Warnings: Misunderstandings, drama and a bit of a cliffhanger x'D

Oh boy, we're back to the drama, it's been really nice writing the Dìon stuff, but now it's back to teenage drama. OTL

Despite being the one writing it, I actually hate this kind of frustrating romantic-comedy teen drama, but it can't be helped, our kids are teens from broken backgrounds and they're gonna need to go through this stuff to learn the importance of communication, maturity, and for that sweet sweet character growth.

So let's just, hang in there, and we'll get through it together x')

There's a really hot smut at the end of all this drama if that's any consolation, I wrote it during part 1 and I've been sitting on that scene for months at this point lol

"Are you sure you want to say that it's a good thing that those two fools are still trying to kill our friend?" Natty sighed, shaking her head exasperatedly.

"Of course, that's not a good thing, what is a good thing, is how fun getting back at the bullies is." Garreth reasoned with a wink and Natty rubbed a hand over her forehead tiredly.

"Well, I'd say we're pretty close to defeating them, based on the howler I heard." Poppy smiled, defusing Natty's irritation with ease.

"So, if we give Professor Sharp a reason to report something negative to their parents, we might get them into big trouble." Amit hummed thoughtfully.

"And if they get disowned, it'll prevent them from bullying people as adults since they won't have as much money or power." Natty nodded with a resolute gleam in her eyes.

"I don't know what we could do though…" Poppy muttered, frowning, and nibbling on her lower lip as her face scrunched up with thought, an expression quickly reflected by most of the table.

A few moments passed before Amit spoke. "I'm not sure about the other houses, but Ravenclaw's head of house, Professor Hecat, gives detentions for not handing up our weekly essays too many times in a row."

"That sounds awful." Garreth wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Weasley doesn't enforce that in Gryffindor." Natty confirmed.

"Professor Garlick doesn't do that either." Poppy added and the group turned to the Keeper.

The Keeper flashed a grin full of teeth. "Professor Sharp does, usually if we don't hand up essays for three subjects for two or three weeks in a row."

"Nice." Garreth grinned broadly in answer.

"That's pretty generous, Professor Hecat only gives us two essays worth of chances." Amit beamed. "Alright, so all we need to do, is make sure at least three of those bullies' weekly essays never actually get marked."

Garreth turned to Amit with wide eyes. "My friend, are you suggesting that we break into Professor offices to steal essays?"

Amit blinked at him hesitantly. "I- I suppose…"

Garreth promptly grabbed Amit by the shoulders with an enormous grin. "I've found my brother in crime!"

Amit's expression quickly flipped to terrified. “I- pardon?"

"I never thought I'd finally find someone as suicidal as myself!" Garreth sobbed with joy.

"Not sure that's a good thing." The Keeper commented with a wry smile.

"No no no, I am not joining the break-in team!" Amit exclaimed in alarm as he finally understood Garreth's deranged ramblings.

"You needn't fear my brother. I have fail-safe means of breaking into offices, and I will teach them all to you!" Garreth slung his arm over Amit's shoulder, seemingly immune to the other boy's attempts to wiggle free.

"I'm not sure I want to know why you have such means…" Natty muttered, watching Garreth warily.

Poppy giggled, looking entirely happy with the situation and the Keeper absently wondered what exactly about it was so ticklish.

A moment later, Poppy tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. "We should probably make sure the bullies are distracted when we do that."

The Keeper hummed. "I could hang about Hogsmeade while the operation is in play, that'll get the attention of at least one of them."

"Have you got any more polyjuice, Garreth?" Poppy asked, her cheeks going pink at the thought of drinking the Keeper's essence again.

"Ah… sorry." Garreth smiled sheepishly. "I got caught by Sharp when trying to steal ingredients, so I wasn't able to brew another batch."

"Hmm, we'll have to think of something else then…" Poppy frowned and the table went silent again in contemplation.

A few moments later, Natty sighed, opening her eyes and raising them towards the Keeper. "Perhaps you can ask Gaunt to distract the other one."

"Ominis?" Poppy murmured dubiously, she didn't really know what to make of the pair recently.

Sebastian used to be one of the few people that Poppy found easy to talk with and Ominis had been nothing but polite to her in classes. Yet recently, they'd both begun behaving increasingly hostile towards her. She'd been doing her best to remain cordial with them for the Keeper's sake, but it was definitely unsettling not knowing what had caused the change.

The Keeper nodded. "Sure, I'll speak with him."

"Why would he be able to help?" Amit asked in confusion.

"He's one of the people being targeted by those bullies." The Keeper answered nonchalantly.

"Oh, that explains why I saw Macnair in detention earlier." Garreth nodded sagely. "I also know from my aunt that the professors do their marking on Sundays."

The Keeper hummed. "In that case, I'll ask Ominis to spend his Saturdays in Hogsmeade as well, that'll keep the bullies out of school while you guys are stealing the assignments, then we can meet here on Sunday after."

"I'm not sure you should be alone, after what happened last time." Natty frowned. "Poppy was attacked on Thursday too, so it'd probably be better to spend Saturday together, you can look out for each other."

Natty gestured towards Garreth and Amit. "The three of us should be enough."

"W- wait, couldn’t I stay with them instead?" Amit tried. "I- if the bullies try something in Hogsmeade, three is safer right?"

"Oh no, you don't." Garreth grinned, tightening his arm around Amit. "We need one person as a lookout, so three of us in the essay team is a good number."

"Good luck, Amit." The Keeper chuckled as Amit's face crumpled in despair.

Poppy's cheeks flushed when Natty surreptitiously winked at her, while the Keeper watched Amit struggling to breathe, as Garreth showed no sign of loosening his grip. She turned towards the Keeper with a shy smile. "I- I guess we'll start next weekend then."

"Yeah." The Keeper nodded, if they spent their Saturdays publicly with Poppy, perhaps the bullies would target her more than their partners…

"I still don't see why you have to spend half the day with her." Sebastian grumbled, and the Keeper sighed as the two strode down the path to Hogsmeade together. Their partner had been sulking all morning and they really couldn't understand what was so bad about the plan.

"Because if I'm with you and Ominis, the bullies won't both be in Hogsmeade." The Keeper rubbed their thumb over their temple. "What about this is not making sense?"

"I- well, it does. I just don't like it." Sebastian kicked a rock irritably and the Keeper felt a wave of frustration, reminded of how obstinate he'd been when they were scaling that mountain near Marunweem in search of Isidora's portrait canvas.

"Well, if you think there's a problem with the plan, just spit it out." The Keeper bit out in annoyance, they'd thought they'd gotten past this whole non-communicative nonsense with Sebastian.

Their partner remained silent, and the Keeper heaved another sigh.

Several minutes of tense silence later, Sebastian inched closer to the Keeper as they walked, bumping his shoulder gently against theirs, with a tentative glance at them out of the corner of his eye. They regarded him warily, but his expression was plainly apologetic.

They considered ignoring him, but the idea of making this unpleasant atmosphere continue any longer was decidedly unappealing and the thought of legitimately hurting Sebastian's feelings, even more so. As such, the Keeper sighed and brushed the back of their hand against his, catching his fingers against theirs for a brief moment, mindful not to make it too obvious, lest their tail notice.

His face immediately brightened and the stuffy air that had been hanging over them dissipated, to the Keeper's relief, they really hated seeing Sebastian upset.

The two continued walking for a few more minutes, before the Keeper spotted a familiar pile of galleons sitting inconspicuously in the middle of the road. Again? Those idiots sure were persistent. The Keeper almost felt offended that the bullies hadn't gotten the hint that they weren't going to fall for this trick.

Pointedly ignoring the pile of gold, the Keeper made to walk past, when Sebastian stopped beside the pile. He reached downwards and the Keeper quickly caught him by the wrist.

"Fallen coins don't roll uphill." They replied in response to the questioning expression on Sebastian's face. His eyes widened in understanding and the Keeper chuckled as they let go of him. "They were so busy trying to make it noticeable, that they forgot about gravity."

Sebastian straightened, nodding as he realised that the coins were sitting on top of a mound. Now that the Keeper had said it, it was plainly impossible for the coins to have stayed on that spot if they'd been dropped.

Leaving the gold coins, the two of them continued down the path and Sebastian smiled wryly. "It's kind of scary how good you are at catching these, the poisoned letter on Wednesday would have gotten me for sure."

The Keeper shrugged. "Not going to lie, that one was pretty close, we were just lucky I was outdoors, and the sunlight reflected off the oily paper before I pulled it from the envelope."

"Pity Ominis didn't let us test it on something, I'm still wondering what they'd dipped the letter in." Sebastian sighed wistfully.

"Hopefully it was something expensive." The Keeper smirked and Sebastian let out a bark of laughter as they crossed the bridge leading into Hogsmeade, joining the bustle of people meandering about this pleasant Saturday afternoon.

Weaving through the crowd, the two stopped by the tea shop, Steepley and Sons, where Ominis should already be waiting inside, with a bully on his tail.

"I'll see you later in the evening." The Keeper gave Sebastian a small smile. "Just be careful and stay on guard while you enjoy your date with Ominis."

Sebastian nodded, a strange look on his face as they parted ways with him, leaving him standing by the flowers and elegantly designed white tables and chairs, to seek out Poppy over by Gladrag's as planned.

The Keeper glanced around and quickly spotted Poppy standing beside a cart of trinkets, they distinctly remembered this cart carrying an assortment of fireworks last time they'd been by. Perhaps the vendor had a rotating stock.

"Hello, Poppy." The Keeper greeted, as they joined her by the cart.

The girl jumped slightly, before turning to them with a brilliant smile and rosy cheeks. "Oh, hello."

The Keeper blinked a few times, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden, unsure of exactly what the expectant look on Poppy's face meant.

After a few moments of silence, Poppy brushed her hair behind her ear and gestured at the cart. "Um, I was just looking at some of the necklaces here, do you think any of them would match my dress?"

The Keeper found the request both odd and unexpected but acquiesced, giving Poppy a once-over, noting the cream yellow dress with black ribbons that she was wearing, before examining the tray of necklaces. Most were simple in design and none of them had any magical properties that bolstered one's magical strength or resistance.

After a few minutes of scouring the uninteresting baubles, the Keeper spotted a golden snitch pendant and remembered the young snidgets they'd found with Poppy. She was the sentimental type, so she'd probably appreciate a reminder of her little ones. It was yellow too, so with no other factors to consider, it was probably a safe bet to just go with the same colours already present in her attire.

Picking up the pendant and selecting a simple black chain, the Keeper offered them to Poppy. "Here, I think these should work."

Her eyes widened and the Keeper tensed as those brown orbs became alarmingly shiny. Poppy turned away briefly, her eyelids fluttering to dispel the wetness, before accepting the necklace from them with a soft smile.

"Thank you… I think it's a wonderful choice." She turned to the vendor and quickly made payment for the selected items, before turning back to the Keeper with pink cheeks. "Um, do you think you could… help me put it on?"

Somehow, the Keeper was starting to feel like they were missing something, but they saw no reason to refuse the request. So, with a shrug, they took the necklace and moved behind Poppy to help her fasten the chain.

"There, that should do it." They muttered as they finished their task, moving to stand before her again.

With an embarrassed smile, Poppy spun in a circle once, her dress’ knee-high and frilly skirt fanning out around her legs as she asked nervously. "What do you think?"

The Keeper tilted their head in confusion and she quickly elaborated. "About how I- um, my outfit looks, I suppose."

"Ah, I guess it looks more comfortable than our uniforms, considering that it's starting to get warm." The Keeper replied nonchalantly.

Poppy deflated slightly but smiled anyway. "...I see, um, shall we go inside then?"

"Sure, what did you need to get?" The Keeper nodded, turning towards Gladrag's, surprised when Poppy slipped her arm around theirs, holding their arm against her chest.

"Oh, just a few things." Poppy replied vaguely with a nervous smile, seeming to be avoiding their questioning glance.

The Keeper found themselves once again uncertain on how to react, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as they allowed her to guide them towards the shop.

That discomfort peaked when the shopkeeper gave the pair a strange smile as they entered through the door and the Keeper gently but firmly removed their arm from Poppy’s grasp. To their relief, she allowed them to do so without protest and they took a breath to recenter themselves.

"Hello there. Ready for a little change in fashion, are we? Let me know if you need help finding anything!" Mr. Hill greeted with a genial smile, taking a sip from his ever-steaming teacup.

Poppy shifted awkwardly, clearly also struggling with the strange atmosphere that had formed after the Keeper's withdrawal and they stifled a sigh, forcing on a smile instead. "So, what were you looking for specifically?"

"Oh, um-" She seemed oddly at a loss as well, glancing around the shop, her eyes darting about anxiously before settling on a rich amber orange dress on display. Without another word, Poppy grabbed the dress and ran for the dressing screen.

The Keeper watched her disappear behind the partition with a raised eyebrow. Poppy had always been a bit unique but she was behaving so weird today.

Well, at least she knew what she wanted, the Keeper shook off their confusion and turned to Mr. Hill. "Could I see what scarves you have in stock?"

Ominis had been a scarf short since their fever and he hadn't had a chance to replace it when they were in Hogsmeade because of Selwyn's damn Descendo. So, the Keeper had been planning to get him a replacement.

"Of course, there are plenty to choose from here!" Mr. Hill beamed and with a quick swish of his wand, a wall of scarves rolled out from behind the counter. The Keeper blinked at it for a moment, where did that even come from-

They carefully considered their options, Ominis never gave much consideration to colours, for obvious reasons. He cared more about comfort and functionality, as such it was usually Sebastian who chose colours for him, because according to Ominis, it was Sebastian who had to look at him, so it made more sense to give him that privilege.

They were honestly impressed at Ominis bravery and disregard for society's view of him, for the Keeper wasn't sure anyone else would blindly trust Sebastian to actually match clothing colours for them. Even though Sebastian was surprisingly picky about his own outfits and seemed to have a decent fashion sense when he was bored enough.

The Keeper did wonder if Sebastian had only developed a fashion sense to help Ominis dress, it felt like something their selfless lover would do, devoting himself to helping Ominis with something that their blind lover would never truly be able to appreciate his efforts in.

Regardless, this was the first time the Keeper was choosing clothing articles for their partner, and they were feeling unexpectedly nervous.

They knew Ominis wasn't fond of his house or his House, but they felt that he looked good in Slytherin green. An opinion that Sebastian clearly held as well, since most of Ominis' closet consisted of varying shades of green and silver, it'd probably be best to get something that matched his established wardrobe.

Just as the thought drifted through their mind, they spotted a deep castleton green scarf with reflective metallic threads weaved through it in streams of glimmering silver. Reminding them of the glossy sheen that shimmered over the twin snakes body when they moved.

The Keeper's eyes lit up, knowing Ominis, he'd want Mira and Kira to draw as little attention as possible if they were with him. When the girls were older they'd probably enjoy draping over his shoulders for warmth and this scarf's design would provide a good camouflage for them to blend into and hide under.

It looked like it had some defensive magic weaved into the fabric too, which was definitely a nice bonus. Touching the long strip of cloth, they found it to be soft, thick and comfortable against their skin, perfect.

"I'll take this one." The Keeper gestured at the scarf.

"Your special someone won't be disappointed. That's a Gladrag’s promise." Mr. Hill winked as he rang them up. They huffed lightly in response, it better, considering the rather steep price, but they didn't mind, Ominis was worth it.

The Keeper smiled fondly as they tucked away the package, looking forward to gifting it to Ominis later.

Meanwhile, behind the screen, Poppy was busy calming herself down from the mortification of her advances being so plainly rejected. Merlin save her, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to look the Keeper in the eye again. She never should have listened to Natty, this whole thing was a mistake.

But the necklace moment earlier had been wonderful… maybe they're just shy? The thought made Poppy pause. The Keeper was so stoic and collected all the time, so it was hard to imagine them being embarrassed, but surely everyone could get embarrassed, maybe it just displayed differently on them?

Perhaps Natty's suggestion of linking arms was just a little too fast for the reserved Keeper, they clearly cared about her deeply, to have gotten so angry when she was hurt and to put such thought into the pendant they'd chosen for her.

Poppy nodded to herself, it made sense, she was just rushing them too much, what did Natty know about romance anyway. What she and the Keeper had was special, and probably had its own pace.

Feeling more comfortable and assured, Poppy lifted the dress she'd impulsively grabbed. Well, they'd expect her to try it on, so she began changing into it quickly, hopefully it happened to look good on her.

A few moments later, she took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the partition. The Keeper looked up at the sound with the most gentle smile she'd ever seen on their face and Poppy practically felt her heart stop at the sight of it.

Her confidence bolstered, Poppy spun once on the spot, plucked up her courage and asked. "H- how is this?"

The Keeper's eyebrows rose as they analysed the dress, that was probably pretty expensive, from the amount of magic weaved into it, they would wager it had the highest defence of any article of clothing in this store. Poppy was indeed one of their most sensible friends, considering that she was also being targeted, it was a wise decision to shore up her defences as much as possible.

"That's a good choice." They nodded approvingly and Poppy's face lit up.

The Keeper smiled wryly as Poppy went to purchase the dress, they did admire how the girl always seemed to be bubbly and happy. The amount of effort she put into their friendship was endearing, understandable, considering that they were her first friend.

They knew that feeling, Sebastian was their beloved, but he was also their first friend and that was something that would always make him special. So, the Keeper took the responsibility of being a good friend to Poppy, someone who also hadn't had any friends before, fairly seriously. While they were technically using Poppy as bait, in return they would at least protect her from harm as much as they could.

"I never thought you had much interest in fashion." The Keeper commented as Poppy hugged the shopping bag to her chest happily.

"Oh, not normally, but it's nice sometimes." Poppy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a blush.

Avoiding their gaze, Poppy's eyes wandered over to the other shop sharing the same building. Spotting a bright blue globe, she eyed it curiously, trying to guess what it might be and whether it was worth going over to take a look at or if it'd make her seem too childish to the Keeper.

Noticing her indecisive gaze, the Keeper huffed lightly and began making their way over, deciding for her. Poppy blinked in surprise before beaming and following at a trot. The two came to a stop beside the globe and Poppy's eyes widened in delight at what turned out to be a constellation globe.

She leaned closer to examine the patterns, when a loud snap came from somewhere above her. Suddenly, she felt a tight grip around her arms pulling on her, the world spun, and then her face was pressed against a warm chest.

She distantly noted a loud crash behind her and Mr. Hill's exclamation of alarm, but she was too overwhelmed by the strong arms around her to pay it much mind.

The Keeper glared at the large bird-shaped wooden flying contraption previously attached to the ceiling that had been inches from crushing Poppy. Fortunately, they'd reacted fast enough and pulled her out of the way in time, before the wooden thing crashed to the floor.

Those fuckers, the Keeper looked around quickly, spotting the backdoor behind Mr. Hill slipping closed.

They grimaced, nothing to be done there. The Keeper looked down at Poppy, who was still frozen in their arms, her body was trembling slightly, and they felt a pinch of guilt for putting her in this situation.

"Are you okay, Poppy?" The Keeper asked gently, not wanting to alarm her.

"Y- yes…" Poppy muttered and they carefully released her, giving her some space to calm her breathing.

"Oh, my goodness, are the two of you alright?" Mr. Hill hastened over to their side and began fussing over them.

"Yes, we're alright." The Keeper assured.

"That's a relief to hear!" He placed a hand over his heart dramatically, before turning to Dervish and Banges' owner with an angry expression. "See, this is why I'm always saying that you shouldn't hang things up on the ceiling! Especially not something so big and heavy, you don't see me hanging up my mannequins, do you!?"

The man in the heavy coat rolled his eyes. “Maybe you'd get more business if you did.”

“Why, I never!” Mr. Hill exclaimed.

The Keeper tuned the argument out and returned their attention to Poppy, who still seemed rather shaken. "Come on, let's go sit down at the Three Broomsticks, we can have dinner there in a bit."

"R- right, good idea." Poppy nodded, trying to will her heart to beat at a more reasonable pace as she followed them out the door.

Sebastian ground his teeth in agitation, his spyglass rattling against the glass window as he watched the Keeper walk towards Gladrag's, arm in arm with that airhead. "What the bloody hell, first they help her put on a necklace all intimate-like and now they're letting her hang on their arm like she's their girlfriend!?"

"M- maybe they're just being nice, you did say it was Sweeting who grabbed their arm." Ominis shook his head, the skin around his eyes tight with stress.

"Well, they sure aren't doing anything about it." Sebastian grumbled, adjusting his monocular scope, trying to see through Gladrag's' windows. "Blast these small damn windows."

Ominis took a sip of his tea anxiously, it was awful having nothing but Sebastian's descriptions of what was going on. He'd almost rather Sebastian stop describing what he was seeing because it was terrible envisioning their lover with someone else.

There was a strange tinkling sound from above their table and Ominis was hit with a wave of unease. "Sebasti-"

"Fuck-" Sebastian cursed and Ominis felt the other boy pull him from his seat.

A second later, there was a loud crash and the two girls seated at the table beside theirs screamed. Ominis clutched Sebastian's robes in alarm as he felt several small unknown objects bounce off his side, feeling the other boy breathing heavily against his hair.

"You're okay, we're okay." Sebastian murmured soothingly, brushing a hand over his side and Ominis could hear the crinkling sound of glass falling from his robes.

"W- what happened!?" Ominis asked shakily in confusion.

"Our tail cut the chandelier hanging above our table." Sebastian explained quietly and Ominis heard the shopkeeper apologising to them profusely, before casting Reparo on the shattered chandelier.

There was the sound of glass swirling before the shopkeeper cleaned the table and brought them another two fresh cups of tea as an apology.

Ominis sighed in relief as they returned to their seats. "Maybe we should sit outside next time."

"Well, at least I doubt they'll try this one again today." Sebastian chuckled, taking a sip of his tea, and swirling the aromatic liquid in his mouth as he peered through the spyglass again.

Almost immediately Sebastian spat his tea right back out and Ominis flinched, when the liquid hit the window and rebounded, a few drops landing on his arm.

"Ugh, you're supposed to swallow that Sebastian." Ominis complained, wiping his arm with a serviette.

When he received no reply, Ominis frowned in concern. "Sebastian?"

There was a clink as Sebastian set down the spyglass.

Ominis was starting to feel really worried now, he tried again. "Sebastian? What happened?"

".......ing."

Ominis frowned, unable to hear what he'd said. "Say that again?"

"....they're hugging…" Sebastian's voice was uncharacteristically emotionless and Ominis found himself at a loss as to what he was saying. Or perhaps he just didn't want to understand.

"They're hugging? Who's hugging?" Ominis echoed distantly.

"They're hugging her." Sebastian repeated, rage bleeding into his voice.

"No, that's- you must have seen wrongly." Ominis laughed shakily, forcing his hands to steady as he took a gulp of his scalding tea.

"I know what I-"

"No, you don't." Ominis interjected, slamming his teacup back down on the saucer. "You don't know what you saw, it could have been anything and I won't hear another word till we've spoken with them to clarify."

"..."

Ominis took a calming breath, forcing his shaking hands to still and carefully taking his fear, wrapping it up tightly, and burying it as deeply as he could. That's right. Don't think about it.

Nothing happened.

Notes:

Wow, that was such unfortunate timing, that the chandelier dropping onto Sebastian and Ominis, made Sebastian miss the bird-thing dropping on Poppy and thus he only saw what looked like the Keeper hugging Poppy.

Such bad luck, it's really just too bad.

…

…I feel so terrible for doing this to them. I am so sorry-

In a way, you could say that the Keeper's utter oblivious-ness is because they don't know what a normal date looks like, and their relationship with Ominis and Sebastian is such an exception in their brain, that they can't apply the same logic to anything else besides their partners x')

The very idea that anyone would think that they have romantic feelings for Poppy is so absurd to the Keeper, that it just doesn't occur to them at all xD

Also, the Keeper is so fucking whipped, all Sebastian needs to do is give them puppy eyes and they cave instantly. If he can actually put what he wants into words xP

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #gender neutral mc #mc x sebastian sallow #mc x ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #sebastian x ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #fanfic #jazlr welcome to your life #jazlr #lgbtqia #nonbinary

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mimisempai · 2 years ago

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Sweet revenge

Summary

Greg finally gets the chance to make a pest understand that his Mycroft is not to be touched with impunity.

Continuation of "Nobody touches Mycroft"

Notes

Mystrade Monday 3.0 #43 - “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

1128 words - Rating G

"Are you sure you don't mind?" asked Greg as he adjusted his bow tie before entering the reception hall of the French Consulate.

Mycroft turned to him and replied, "Do I mind being escorted by a magnificent specimen of the forces of law enforcement to what promises to be an extremely dull reception? No, I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm surprised you insisted on coming, knowing your distaste for such events."

Greg shrugged and replied, "You know me, it's my sense of sacrifice." He chuckled, hiding the real reason for his presence behind the joke.

Ever since Mycroft had returned from one of his social dinners annoyed by the French Consul's wife's repeated advances, Greg had been looking for an opportunity to make her understand the impropriety of her behavior. So when Mycroft had mentioned this reception at the French Consulate, Greg had seen the perfect opportunity.

Having been there for over an hour, now sitting at the dinner table with the Consul and his wife, he could see with his own eyes that what Mycroft had told him was true. This woman was all bluster, smooth talk and fluttering eyelashes. She put her hand on Mycroft's forearm at every opportunity.

Greg was like a cat watching its prey, waiting for the slightest opportunity to make the importune understand that this would be the last time she would have the chance to behave like this with his lover.

So when he felt Mycroft flinch slightly before shifting his chair back slightly, he knew she'd moved up a gear and it was time for him to take action. Carefully, he leaned over to Mycroft and said quietly, so that only he and the importunate could hear, "Mycroft, love, what's the matter? You look a little pale." He winked at him, trying to get him to play along. Mycroft, of course, immediately caught on and replied, "Yes, I think I need to get some fresh air for a few moments."

Greg asked, "Do you need me to come with you?"

Mycroft shook his head gently, "That won't be necessary, my dear, I'll be back in five minutes."

Greg followed him with eyes that wore a fake expression of concern when suddenly the woman's high-pitched voice rang out, "Remind me, what's your connection with Mr. Holmes?"

Greg replied, a sweet smile on his lips and his tone as honeyed as possible, "We're engaged."

The woman tried to hide her expression of displeasure, but Greg had time to catch a glimpse of it before she asked, falsehood personified, "Really? But you don't seem to be... how shall I put it... of the same world. I mean, you don't move in the same social circles.

Greg, though inwardly irritated, let nothing show and replied, "Well, there's nothing you can do about love at first sight."

The woman, with a mischievous look on her face, said defiantly, "It's really surprising, the last time we saw each other he was alone and didn't mention you for a moment.

Greg, seeing right through her, replied in the same tone, "Well, we're very private and generally speaking, Mycroft knows I don't enjoy this sort of evening. So if a partner isn't required, he goes to these events alone."

The cheeky girl replied, "But tonight, no partner was required either."

Greg, having got her exactly where he wanted her, leaned over and said as sweetly as ever, "Well, you see, Mycroft is like a honeypot, he often attracts bees without meaning to, they tend to stick to him even if he doesn't want them to."

He saw the woman's cheeks flush with anger as she took the hint.

Then he stepped back and spoke louder, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make sure my fiancé is all right."

The woman replied in the same pinched voice, her tone unmistakably ironic, "How sweet of you to care so much about him."

She obviously didn't mean a word of it.

Greg stood and bowed slightly before replying, "Madam, when you love someone, you care about everything, even if it means ridding them of an insignificant little bug."

He didn't wait to see the woman's reaction and turned on his heels, heading for the balcony where Mycroft had gone.

No sooner had he stepped through the French window than he found himself wrapped in Mycroft's arms, who whispered into his hair, "My knight in shining armor."

Then Mycroft let go of him before cupping his face in his hands and pressing his lips to Greg's in a passionate kiss.

As they parted to catch their breath, Greg chuckled softly, "Not that I mind, not at all, but to what do I owe this sudden outburst of passion?"

Mycroft ran his thumb over Greg's kiss-swollen lips, "It's your own fault. Seeing you so protective, you can't imagine the state it puts me in."

Greg pressed his hips lightly against Mycroft's suggestively and replied in a hoarse voice, "I think I can imagine," then he continued, "You realize, in this state, there's no way we're going back to the table. We risk a diplomatic incident."

Mycroft's smile turned mischievous as he said quietly, "Don't worry, I'm not a diplomat for nothing."

They adjusted their outfits and Greg followed him to their table. Arriving at the table next to the Consul and his wife, Mycroft said sheepishly in French, "Monsieur le consul, je vous prie de m'excuser, je ne me sens vraiment pas bien ce soir. Je m'en veux de devoir partir de cette manière, mais-"*

The Consul shook his head and said in a friendly voice, "Mycroft, we'll have none of that between us, I understand. Go home with your charming fiancé. There will be plenty of opportunity, won't there?"

Mycroft bowed gratefully and they both greeted the other guests before leaving.

As they left the room, Greg couldn't help but look back as he ran his hand possessively over Mycroft's lower back.

He saw that the Consul's wife was watching them and seemed to be smoking in anger, so he gave her one last challenging smile before walking out the door.

Mycroft, not fooled, said in an amused voice, "Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Greg replied, "Some bugs are tenacious, so you have to make them understand."

He pulled Mycroft against him and continued, "Nobody touches my Mycroft."

Just as he was about to press his lips to his lover's, Mycroft stepped back and, taking his hand, said in a voice heavy with desire, "Let's go home before we start something even diplomacy can't fix."

They were still laughing as they hurried out of the consulate, eager to get home.

_________

Translation of Mycroft french's words to the Consul : *"I must apologize, I really don't feel well tonight. I'm sorry to have to leave like this, but-"

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mycroft x greg #some fluff as always #sherlock bbc #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #mystrade monday #mystrade monday prompts

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dhampiravidi · 1 year ago

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my portrayal: DC's Shayera/Hawkwoman

Full Name: Shayera Thal

Alias(es): Shayera Muñoz, Hawkwoman, Kesi & others

Race/Ethnicity: Thanagarian (claims to be Latina on public records)

Citizenship: Thanagarian (& verse-dependent)

Gender: Cis-Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

DOB: (Kesi) Feb. 20, 2402 BC; (Shayera) Oct. 28 (verse dependent)

Appearance (21st Century FC is Juliana Harkavy, FC from Kemet is Freema Agyeman)

Shayera appears to be a somewhat tall (5'8"/1.73 m) woman in great shape for her age and height. She's toned, definition easily seen in her abs and arms when she moves. Her skin is light, but tanned thanks to all the time she spends outside. Her eyes are hazel, and her hair, which is naturally curly and hangs just below her shoulder blades, is auburn. Her wings are mainly white with brown speckles on the front, and brown on the back, resembling that of a red-tailed hawk. As Hawkwoman, she wears her Thanagarian armor. In her civilian identity, she tends to wear casual, form-fitting clothes--always with shoes that are easy to run in.

Background

Kesi was a daughter of the ruler of Kemet during the Old Kingdom. She fell for a man (Tanus) who loved her well, but he was too poor for her father to ever approve of their relationship. When Tanus was found sneaking into the palace for a nighttime rendezvous with Kesi, the pharaoh was furious, disliking the man's defiance. Kesi would find Tanus in his home, bleeding out from a knife in his gut. The young woman tearfully prayed to Aset (aka Isis), asking the goddess to use her mortal life force to save Tanus. Aset did as Kesi asked, neither of them knowing that the knife was made of Nth Metal, an alien element with mysterious properties. The knife, in conjunction with Aset's magic, would throw Kesi and Tanus into an endless cycle of love, drama, and reincarnation. In the 21st century, Shayera Thal was a Thanagarian cop, who had traveled from her planet to Earth in order to apprehend a violent shapeshifter hiding in the rainforests of Bolivia. Once she caught him and sent him back to Thanagar, she decided to stay on Earth to study human law enforcement. She used an Absorbascon to help her learn Spanish, and was surprised to find that humans thought she was Latina, due to her Thanagarian accent and facial features which surprisingly helped her "pass". (Her current location on Earth is entirely verse-dependent.)

Personality

Some people are put off by Shayera's brave, determined nature, but when she wants to achieve something, she won't let anyone or anything get in her way. When she's fighting as part of a team, she has no problem leading the charge. Despite all this, she has a hidden capacity for compassion, which is part of what drives her to help people. Within reason, she believes in second chances. She's also adventurous, always willing to try out new activities or visit new places when a friend offers. Her biggest faults lie in the way she handles guilt (when she feels like she's done something wrong, she's hard on herself for a while) and her tendency to make sarcastic quips when she's irritated (these usually don't do much to raise morale). Shayera's hobbies include hiking, cycling, meditation, and playing chess.

Power(s) all those of an average Thanagarian...

Flight, using their natural wings to steer and glide

Superhuman strength, durability, reflexes, hearing & stamina

Superhuman sight, which is 8x better than a human's

Ability to communicate with birds using empathy

Slowed aging, as a 100-yr old will look 30 by human standards

+ the ability to retain brief memories (& therefore certain skills) from her past lives (like Wild West-style gunslinging in the 21st century)

Abilities

Fighting Skills - she's proficient with handguns, knives, her mace & her fists (using a Thanagarian form resembling kickboxing)

Languages - Thanagarian, any Earth language as needed

Misc. - stealth, investigative skills, intimidation techniques

Equipment

Nth Metal mace - can generate lightning and/or heat, not to mention disturb/counter magic

Image inducer - bends light around her wings to hide them

Extra

On Thanagar, Shayera was part of the Spec Ops department.

She has other kinds of clothes from Thanagar, but she constantly has to buy backless stuff (halter tops, backless dresses, low-waist bras) to accommodate her wings. Her wingspan is 12'6"/3.81 m. 6'/2 m is a standard mattress.

Hawkman's strength has been shown to be somewhere between that of 10 human men (half a ton) & enough to throw a car (a ton), so Shayera's does as well.

Shayera prefers to just sleep in her underwear, arms cushioning her face as she flops onto her stomach.

She's claustrophobic & occasionally she has nightmares about being buried alive.

She commonly has to tuck her wings in, in order to get past people or rush through narrow corridors. It hurts after a while.

Shayera knows a guy who forges legal documents for her as needed. In return, she doesn't turn him in.

Swimming is a shitty situation for her, considering her wings.

In her primary verse, she works as a "freelance" forensic photographer, who takes pictures at crime scenes. But she enjoys taking photos of animals more & some of her photos have been posted in magazines.

Possible AUs

Empress of Thanagar

Green Lantern Shayera

A Past Life (Historical AU)

#admin #dcau rp #dc rp #dc indie rp #hawkgirl #hawkwoman #shayera: headcanon #biggest inspo is Maria Canals Barrera who voiced her in JLU #dc universe rp

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electrasev5nwrites · 1 year ago

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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.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity

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