#Hunter hasn’t been the same after he fell off a mountain

[giganonyx]

I’m crying

[lore-of-the-silvereyes-rwby]

You had me with your words but you lost me with your action

This section will relate to the main theme of Volume 7(Trust) and how it relates to Ironwood. Basically despite all of his talk about cooperation and trust he has always been the one that has both rejected and withheld the most of these 2 concepts. Now some of this can be related to his questionable upbringing and past violent experiences. But the core idea is that for all his talk and promises he has never once kept them or bothered to see the error of his ways. As stated before his actions have done more harm than good.

He demands that his subordinates follow his orders without question because he thinks he is right and will always be right.  And he never once afforded Ozpin that same loyalty, trust, or authority.  Since his debut in the show, he was constantly questioning Ozpin’s choices, even though HE was the subordinate to Ozpin.  Kinda hypocritical given his demand for it. He thought differently from Ozpin and could never accept Ozpin’s ways, nor listen to them.  He expected the council, Ozpin, his soldiers, and the main heroes to follow him without question and he truly, honestly believes he is right.  This is scary, especially when you compare him to Ozpin, but I will get to that in a moment.  The big point is that people who are so sure that they are right, even if they are dead wrong, are the scariest adversaries.  

What we have here is a narcissist with a superiority complex who can not accept that he is wrong. He was unbalanced since he came into the picture, and Ozpin knew it.  But here is where things get interesting.

Prior to the fall of beacon Ironwood condemns Ozpin’s choices for keeping things secret and not sharing with the world everything.  And, yes, Ironwood does the EXACT same thing after the fall of Beacon.  The difference here is in intention.  Ozpin’s purpose was to protect the people and ensure that as few people died as possible.  Ozpin’s choices were not based on control or the need to be RIGHT.  They were based on experience, a bit of fear, and concern for the people he needed to protect.  To Ozpin, sacrifice on a great scale was never an option.  He tried his best to make sure that the causalities were as limited as possible.  A difficult thing to do, given that hunters and huntresses were constantly fighting Grimm and such.  But  creating a mythos around the Maidens and eliminating Salem from history allowed him to save many many lives.  And I can guarantee that he attempted what Ironwood planned to do, at least on some levels, and met with staggering deaths.

Ironwood, however, is keeping secrets to keep control and out of fear.  He needs control, and he is frustrated that people do not agree with him automatically.  After the fall of Beacon, these traits became enhanced to an unbelievable level.  We see something else surface, though: Ironwood’s ability to manipulate people and be charismatic.  Ironwood is looking to survive: for himself( or his legacy that is Atlas).  He will manipulate others and sacrifice millions of people’s lives to protect himself (legacy), though he clings to his mantra of “it’s for the greater good.”  It will become the sign on the wall of the slave labor he creates. “For the Greater Good”.

Another thing you can do to really get an idea for the type of person Ironwood is, is by looking back to the round table discussions orchestrated by Ozpin versus Ironwood.  Ozpin was constant in listening to his people, sometimes taking ideas from them, and allowed them to question him–even yell at him.  He was patient and understood what they were trying to say.  He demonstrated this with Ironwood and Qrow the most.

You would never see that kind of discussion with Ironwood.  RWBY and co are new to the scene and it does throw him off.  You can tell he is trying not to pressure them too much because he knows they are not on his side yet. Hooking them up with the Ace-Corps and Winter was a move to help sway them more, a subtle kind of brainwashing tactic that never worked on them as he had hoped.

“You're a good person, James. You've always done what you think is best for the people, even against strong protest. It's admirable. But it's high time you stopped talking about trust and started showing it.”

—Glynda, to Ironwood in "Mountain Glenn"

“This is the right move, Ozpin. I promise, I will keep our people safe; you have to trust me.”

—Ironwood, to Ozpin

“Many have described these as uncertain times. And while that may be the case for the rest of the world, I can tell you what is certain: the Kingdom of Atlas will remain strong... and it will remain safe. That is my promise.”

—General Ironwood, reaffirming his promise to the people of Atlas over the Atlas Broadcast System

“I will sacrifice... whatever it takes... to stop her.”

—Ironwood, declaring his conviction to Watts

How many of these promises did he actually keep and how much trust did he give?

According to Jacques, Ironwood does not trust anybody but himself, something that Ironwood does not deny; instead, he believes that his methods are justified. This leads Ironwood to a more proactive yet headstrong approach to problems, attempting more preemptive measures, as opposed to Ozpin's more subtle, reactive and analytical methods.

Ironwood's heroism is because of his lack of trust - he has to do everything himself, no matter what, because he doesn't trust anyone else to do it.

He doesn't trust others because he thinks of himself as the hero, that only he can do things right, that everything that goes wrong is because people didn't listen to him.

Following Orders was also another theme of this volume, but it was hinted at back in V2 and other interactions between him and his subordinates.  This is a huge red flag when RWBY and co come to him in Volume 7. Ironwood has surrounded himself with Yes men, people who only follow orders and never once question them.  It is a dynamic theme throughout this volume, about controlling and crushing down your emotions to follow orders–or manage your semblance? Winter started alluding to this back in V3, which really set the stage for her and future Atlas soldiers.

Because of this Ironwood is often portrayed as the least worst character while in a company of other worst characters( or other Atlasians and antagonists to be specific)

For example Volume 4 chapter 2; Remembrance; we see Ironwood and Weiss after the fall with Jaques Schnee.

This is our first proper onscreen interaction with these characters that allows us to explore their new dynamic after beacon. From a visual standpoint we can sorta see Ironwood being somewhat humble after his failure at beacon but really he hasn’t changed from the arrogant warmonger that he is from his debut.(I’ll explain that later)

During his meeting with Jaques is where we get this misdirection of his character due to the exposition from their conversation. Ironwood talks about the dust(trade) embargo being necessary as to ease tensions with the other kingdoms due to Atlas being framed is an understandable and reasonable decision in comparison to Jaques argument being that it's costing him potential Millions of world currency to profit from. The meeting ends with Ironwood leaving before making a proposal to weiss which leads to this line of dialogue with her father;

“I suppose the council trusts him, for better or worse.”

—Jacques, in "Remembrance

“I trust him.”

—Weiss Schnee, responding to her father's bad faith

Just like that the fandom is being swayed to see Ironwood in a more positive light for 3 reasons

Because best girl Weiss trusts him

Because Jaques is a greedy a**hole(As well as other Atlaisans)

Because Ironwood sides with her against the rich(V4 ep.6)

But the question that must be asked here is why does Weiss trust Ironwood?

Prior to Volume 4 she has had little to no interaction with the General. Her only point of reference for his character is only whatever Winter has told her about him, the Military propaganda and her first scene with him when he chastised and disqualified  Yang and her team in Volume 3(potentially her first real and true friends by the way)

If we were to add in the factor of Ironwood's incompetence and failure at beacon, Weiss should really have no real reason to trust Ironwood who she should see as the reason why beacon fell since it was his army that he brought only to be used by the villains to kill her and her friends and destroy beacon. As well as the man who’s failure had led her back into the custody of her father.(Remember she went to Beacon to get away from his abuse) She should at least harbour some sense of Scorn or resentment for him.

The Only reason why she apparently doesn’t is because her father was in that scene. Who prior to his debut was hinted to be a greedy abusive bastard. So just like winter she sides with Ironwood simply to defy her father. The difference between her and winter though is that she doesn’t see him as a potential father figure that he may have presented himself as when he first met winter. Instead she sees him as someone she would prefer to be around instead of her father.

This is further explored during Volumes 5 & 6 where Ironwood was absent leaving her free to continue throwing shade at Jaques, Whitelty, etc. To reiterate Weiss is not pro Ironwood because she thinks he might be a good guy. She is pro Ironwood to spite and defy her abusive father.

We possibly covered what was going on in the mind of the ice queen during volume 4 that had allowed her mind(as well as us) to be swayed to favor Ironwood. Now we will cover how she ( and the audience) was wrong by relooking at Ironwoods character by the end of Volume 4( his last on scene appearance before his return in V7)

Since Ironwood was largely absent from Volumes 5 & 6 and only mentioned during those volumes we were left with our opinion of him  after V4 to hold us over till his return in V7. The problem however is that we only had 3 scenes and one mention of him during the whole of volume 4. So what are those 4 moments of Ironwood that you may ask? In order they are;

His first argument with Jaques where Weiss sides with him

Taiyang telling Yang that it was him who gifted her a new arm(For whatever reason?)

Ironwood siding and defending Weiss against the rich a##holes of Atlas

His second argument with Jaques while Weiss escapes, where he reaffirms his power to the greedy bastard

This is literally the entirety of Ironwood's impact on the story during volume 4. Not much if you were to think about it.  But if you did you would come to realise that all of it was a major red hearing for his character. For you see at the start of this volume we were led to believe that Ironwood had changed for the better after his failure at beacon, but in truth he didn’t.

To further explain let's look at the narrative symmetry of his arc during the volume. It starts with him arguing with Jaques and ends with an  argument with the same man with both arguments ending with Ironwood on top Winning the argument. The difference between the two is how Ironwood is portrayed. The first argument as stated before tricks us into believing that Ironwood has become humble and wiser after his failure. But the second shows us the truth. Ironwood hadn’t changed at all. Instead it shows us that he is still as blunt and arrogant as he was during Volumes 2 & 3.  To best explain let's look at the transcripts of the argument;

Weiss is soon creeping outside her father's study door when she hears a glass crash followed by the rising voice of James Ironwood. She crouches behind a cushioned chair against the wall.

Ironwood: You need to control yourself!

Jacques: You're talking to me about control? Do you even hear what you're saying?

Ironwood: I am basing everything on my reports from your daughter.

Jacques: A daughter you stole!

Weiss moves closer to the door to listen.

Ironwood: Oh, we are not getting into that again.

Jacques: Oh, yes, we have far more pressing matters to discuss, starting with your apparent lunacy!

Ironwood: Jacques!

The scene changes to an overhead view inside Jacques' study. He is seated at his desk while Ironwood has both hands on it, leaning over him from the other side.

Ironwood: (sighing heavily) Winter is one of my best. If she's telling me there's a threat in Mistral then I am not going to take that news lightly. She's been there for weeks, people are mobilizing, sudden spikes in weapons and Dust trades. Someone is about to make a play and I do not trust Leo to stop them.

From this first half of the scene we are only shown the middle and near end of the argument and we are left to interpret what led to this escalation of opinions. Prior to this we are swayed to believe that Ironwood is in the right while Jaques is in the wrong. But before we are shown the cause of the argument via its resolution, we get this interesting bash from Jaques claiming that Ironwood stole her from him(or to be accurate her family).

I find this interesting because we don’t exactly know why Winter would be so loyal to Ironwood to the point of saying that her life doesn’t matter in V7 and why she would be so against her family to the point that she makes no effort to see Weiss, and Whitely included and only bothering to be apart of weiss’s life only because she seems to be following the same path of defiance against their father. In other words she only chooses to interact with her sister only if she is rebelling against their father. If she is not, then WInter wants nothing to do with her.

Now who or what exactly would cause Winter to have this unhealthy mindset in regards to her own personal existence and relationships?

The answer being Ironwood.

If we were to consider Jaques words being serious than it is more than likely the truth. Ironwood did steal Winter, not just from her father but from the rest of her family. I don’t know what exactly Ironwood said or did to turn winter away from her family but it wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart. He did this  just to have a loyal subordinate with incredible power( her hereditary semblance) & status( her grandfather's legacy and accomplishments) just to give his power and status more legitimacy.

By doing so Ironwood had brainwashed Winter into believing that her family as well as herself is beyond redemption due to the actions of her father thus leading her to abandon them and only believing Ironwood can redeem her hence why she values her life so little and is willing to die for whatever Ironwoods says.

Now we move on to the next part of the first half where Ironwood doesn’t trust Leo to handle the situation in Mistral. He first starts this off by listing all of the things that obviously would be of concern in regards to potential riots and war. Understandable and reasonable to be ready for an attack. Especially for a paranoid military leader. But here’s the thing: this is a foreign affair that has to be resolved by the people over there. In other words, that is Leo's problem to resolve, not Ironwood’s. (Keep in mind this is Ironwood before he is told the truth about Leo.)

Lionheart who is also another member of Ozpin's inner circle like him is trusted with the safety of an entire kingdom. The difference between the 2 however is how leo seems to be a most trusted member of the group given how fondly Ozpin speaks of him to the point of giving him gifts as well as being trusted with full autonomy trust, and independence in comparison to the scorn and micromanagement Ironwood gets from Ozpin and the other members(Qrow Glynda, Theo, Etc).

In other words Ironwood should at least have some trust in Leo's abilities to handle the situation in Mistral before he learns of his betrayal. But instead he claims he doesn’t and says that he could handle the situation better. Remember this is before either we or Ironwood are shown that plot twist and betrayal. For all we know when Ironwood said that Leo may have been a decent guy.  This is just simply another example of Ironwood’s ego and need for control being shown but in a subtle way that we don’t even notice

We covered the first half now we will continue with the rest of the scene.

Weiss is listening outside.

Jacques: You've never trusted anyone other than yourself!

Ironwood: (shouting) And for good reason!

Weiss covers her mouth with her hand as she gasps at the sound of Ironwood slamming his fist onto the desk.

Ironwood: If Oz had just listened to me from the start...

Jacques: You need to get a grip.

Ironwood: That's exactly what I'm doing. Our people need protection. By this time next week, the Kingdom of Atlas will be officially closing its borders. No one in; no one out. Without the council's permission.

Jacques: You mean, without your permission?

Ironwood: And if that becomes the case, I would think you'd want to be on my good side.

Ironwood walks away from the desk, leaving Jacques to sigh and fold his hands.

Those first 3 lines help better clarify that despite all of the apparent good Ironwood did during the volume it exposes the truth that hasn’t changed and he is still the same narcissist authoritarian from Volumes 2 & 3. As well as a potential foreshadow of his nihilism as he ignores and rejects the fact that it was his fault beacon fell and instead chooses to continue blaming Ozpin; who if he had it his way with dealing with the events of volume 3 wouldn’t have been as disastrous as when Ironwood had his way. Simply put had Ozpin had his way continued;

Beacon possibly wouldn’t have fallen

A droid army wouldn’t have been used to frame an entire kingdom

Global communications would probably still be a thing

Fewer people would have died

Trade would still be a thing as well

The threat of another world war could have been avoided

Instead Ironwood pulled a power move against Ozpin, and it backfired immensely. Instead of learning from his mistake he chooses to blame others for his mistake  and fails to realize that he is doing more harm than good.

To continue with the rest of the scene where Ironwood tells Jaques that he will be closing the borders and that nobody can leave or enter without the council's approval leads to  Jaques pointing out that he really means with his permission, only for Ironwood to taunt jaques in a smug gloat to tell the greedy bastard that he has already won. The final line of that scene is probably the highlight of Ironwood’s ego being stroked as he (in his mind) has crushed and won against the last of his local opposition. It also shows us that Ironwood had amassed too much power and that it has further validated his mind into believing his own hype regardless of what the sane and reasonable characters are saying.

Now it is pretty clear Ironwood has a very toxic mindset and very manipulative personality, but why is it that after volume 4 we consider him to be a good guy till the events of V7 even though his last scene in V4 clearly shows that he is still the same as V2 & V3 Ironwood?

The reason being that his last scene was confronting Jaques Schnee who earlier had slapped his daughter in the face, revoked her inheritance, and was only presented as a corporate d##chebag. Because of this we the viewer would rather side with anyone that isn’t Jaques Schnee. But in that schnee we are tricked to side with a Paranoid Warmonger who had only a few good moments to make us believe he had changed for the better against a man who was presented as one of the most awful characters of this volume. But in truth they were both terrible when it came to morality and eventually we had to pick a side and we the audience chosen wrong(Jaques is still a villain no argument there but I think we would have no problem beating his @$$ vs getting destroyed if we challenged Ironwood on his bull$#17)

“His heart is in the right place. He's just... misguided.”

—Ozpin, about Ironwood in "Never Miss a Beat"

“Sometimes, I'm not even sure he has a heart.”

—Qrow, about Ironwood in "Never Miss a Beat"

Back in V2 and V3, Ironwood showed his ability to be both charismatic and manipulative. His subtlety in his manipulation is a statement to his rise to power.  He puts himself into the position of a Father Figure to lure in the people he wants.  It worked with Winter and the Ace-Ops, which is why they are his right-hand yes men. During Dance Dance, he was praising Ruby and fueling her admiration for him.  Even when team RWBY came to Atlas, all his actions were calculated to manipulate the team into trusting him.  Unfortunately, his actions never really lined up with his words, which was why the team was on edge.

“people only did wrong when at the moment the perceived benefits seemed to outweigh the costs.”

This is exactly what ironwood did.

To Ironwood, the world cannot be saved without Atlas(or to be accurate him). He truly believes he and Atlas are the key to victory against Salem. But Victory is not in a single person, group or in strength of power. Victory is only achieved by cooperation, teamwork and in unity.

(real quick i want to give credit to @rwby-etc for they're post that I used to help better summerize this section)

I am power I am due process I will smite

[i-write-about-anything]

Returned Part 5

Prompt: The reader left Beacon Hills three years ago after her break up with Scott and hasn’t returned, not even after her friend Allison has died. But Stiles calls her up when the hunters are after everyone and only then does the reader find some secret everyone was hiding.

Pairings: Scott McCall x Allison Argent, Scott McCall x Reader (I meant at least i hope so)

Warnings: Death, Suicide talk

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Third Person POV

Screams erupted in the hallway of the hospital, (y/n) could hear the pounding of everyone’s hearts increase but she focused on only one heart, Mateo’s. He has been in the room when Scott burst in, not a word coming out of his mouth. Stiles backed up to the back wall, scared out of his mind, he knew what was coming and who it was coming for but the words weren’t coming out of his mouth, not now. (Y/N) stood up from her bed, regarding the pain that shot through her when she hit the floor when her legs failed to keep her up. Isaac rushed to her side, covering her with his own body when the window shattered only seconds later. Mateo’s screams followed the door bursting open. Everyone struggled to focus their eyes at the creature standing in front of them, only it wasn’t a creature at all, it was. “Allison.” Scott whispered out. Allison, it couldn’t be, but it was. Her eyes shining bright purple, something that stood out when Stiles looked at her. Scott kept Mateo’s face close to his chest, he couldn’t be too sure and he wasn’t going to be, or at least he thought. Scott got up, Mateo in his arms as he walked towards what he thought was Allison, and maybe it was, but after all of these years could it have been? (Y/N) struggled to get up, looking at Stiles who shook his head, answering her unasked question. Isaac helped (y/n), not taking his eyes off of Allison. “Is it really you?” Scott whispered. Allison looked at Scott, her eyes moving slowly to Mateo before looking at (y/n). Her eyes shinning once again, she moved towards (y/n) in only two strides, Isaac standing in front of her not wanting (y/n) to get hurt. Allison titled her head, smirking before whisking her hand to the side causing Isaac to be thrown against the wall. “Allison.” Scott spoke out, Mateo crying loudly in his arms when he heard the loud thump from Isaac’s body colliding with the wall.  

“I’ve been looking for you.” The sound of Allison’s voice traveled into everyone’s ears, they hadn’t heard it in years. She looked at Stiles and smiled. “I knew you’d be the one to get her here, you two always had some kind of bond.” Stiles tried moving towards her only to be thrown against the wall, Allison kept him there with whatever power she had.  

“Leave him alone.” (Y/N) growled out causing Allison to laugh.  

“Go ahead, try and stop me.” She smiled causing the blood in (y/n) to boil. Scott tried to walk passed her, trying to get Mateo out of the room before something worse happened but Allison stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going, babe?” She didn’t look at him, instead she continued to look at (y/n).  

“You’re not Allison.” Isaac groaned out causing her to laugh.  

“Good job.” She clapped her hands and before anyone noticed she had shifted into (y/n).  

“Shapeshifter?” Scott breathed out, he tried to be as silent as he could, he didn’t want Mateo to see nor hear anything.  

“I’m not just a shapeshifter.” She smiled.  

“Witch.” (Y/N) spat out, she looked at herself, it felt surreal.

“The name’s Rebecca, you should have stayed hidden behind whatever was guarding you.” She moved closer, putting her hand on (y/n)’s neck. “You took something from me and I want it back.” She hissed.

“I took nothing.” (Y/N) pushed her back causing her to laugh before putting her hand out that caused (y/n)’s leg to break. She screamed out in pain as she fell to the floor, she was already having a hard time healing and with a broken leg, there was no way she was going to be able to heal any quicker.

“Leave her alone!” Isaac yelled causing the witch to smile once more.  

“Silly boy, she’s not worth it, trust me. She’ll use you then kill you the same way she tried to do to me.” She snapped (y/n) other leg causing her to scream once more. Rebecca shifted into another body, a body (y/n) knew too well.  

“Cami?” (Y/N) groaned out.  

“Surprise.” She smiled. “I was surprised to find out you had moved, I had been looking for you for years. Turns out you do always leave when things go wrong, the boy you were so deeply in love with.” She looked at Scott who cradled Mateo closer to him, the small boy still crying his eyes out. “He left you for Allison, and do you know why?” She smiled looking at her fingers. “I may or may not have put a spell on him.” Isaac looked at (y/n) who looked down, tears running down her face, from pain, from memories, from betrayal. “I needed you alone, I didn’t think you’d run, not from these people. But that’s what you do, you run away. That’s all you’re ever good for.” She spat out before kneeling in front of (y/n), lifting her head. “You left me to die.”  

“We were twelve, they said it was a risk.” (Y/N) groaned once more, the wounds Scott had inflicted weren’t healing anymore and she could sense it.  

“But you left me in those woods, dying, alone. We were supposed to be in this together, you wanted it, so I had them do it for us! Turns out, I wasn’t dying. The bite turned me into something other than a werewolf, something more powerful. I was found by a pack of werewolves, they helped me heal, they gave me a new name, they helped me control everything and when I was in control of it all, I came searching for you. I found you here in beacon hills four years ago, happy as you could be so I blended in.” Rebecca shifted as a boy (y/n) had seen one too many times back in beacon high. “And just when you and Scott were close enough I figured it was time to repay you, I didn’t know you were going to run, you had always been a fighter but now, you’re a runner.” She shoved (y/n) to the floor before standing up. “So, when you didn’t return nearly a year later, I killed your friend.” She smiled looking at Scott, his jaw clenched. “And to my surprise you didn’t come back to say your goodbyes to her either.” (Y/N) looked at Scott who’s eyes were not shining red. “I searched for you for years, I couldn’t find you not even when I heard Stiles talking about you, it was like you were shielded by me, by something.” She looked at Stiles. “So I did a small spell on Scott, had him warn Stiles, I knew he was the only person who could get you here, and here you are.” She smiled picking (y/n) up and throwing her to the wall next to Isaac. “I’ve dreamt of this day for years.” Her eyes shined purple as she walked towards the groaning (y/n).  

“Leave her alone.” Isaac growled, standing in front of (y/n), he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her, not again. Rebecca laughed before flinging Isaac across the room. Scott still glued to his spot, Mateo crying as the hospital went silent. A loud pitching sound causing Isaac and Scott to close their eyes for just a second and when their eyes opened once more, both Rebecca and (y/n) were gone. The noise in the hospital returning as Melissa burst into the room, frantically looking around before taking Mateo out of Scott’s arms and comforting him. Isaac looked around for the girl he cared deeply about but she wasn’t anywhere to be found. “Where is she?” Isaac asked Scott who’s eyes were still red. “Where is she!” Isaac shouted but Scott didn’t answer, he had just learned that the reason Allison was gone was because of (y/n) and he wanted nothing to do with her, nothing. Stiles looked out the window, a single tear running down his face.  

_____

Scott sat on his couch, Mateo was with Melissa, he hadn’t stopped thinking about the things he had just heard, (y/n) was the reason for it all, Allison’s death, and now, the newest threat in town, only that’s where he was wrong. Although the shapeshifting witch was in town, it wasn’t the thing that was after them, and even though Scott knew that he couldn’t help but think (y/n) was responsible for that too. “We have to get her back.” Isaac paced back and forth Stiles and Scott’s living room, it was still trashed but Stiles was doing his best to clean it up.  

“Get her back?” Scott chuckled. “She’s the reason we’re in this mess, she’s the reason beacon hills is under attack, she’s the reason Allison is dead!” Scott screamed causing Isaac to gulp.  

“It isn’t her fault. You know that.” Isaac spoke softly tying not to get Scott angrier than he already was. Scott laughed.  

“Isn’t it though? You heard the witch, she killed Allison to bring (y/n) back to beacon hills.” Scott stood up from the couch. “(Y/N) deserves everything that’s coming for her.” Scott growled out his teeth and Isaac shoved him.  

“No, she doesn’t. She protected you when you could give two shits about her.” Scott pushed Isaac back and just like that, a fight broke out once more in the living room of Scott’s home.  

(Y/N)’s eyes opened, she was in a dark room, chained to wall, mountain ash surrounding her so she couldn’t leave, not this time. Her head pounded, her legs, still broken and her wounds not healing. “What are you doing to me?” (Y/N) whispered out when she saw Rebecca standing in front of her, arms crossed over her chest.  

“Making you suffer, kind of what you did to me.” She smiled, walking closer to (y/n), kneeling down before reaching the mountain ash. “You’re going to die a slow and painful death, and I’m going to enjoy seeing you die.” (Y/N) looked around, a small window boarded up caught her attention. “Oh don’t worry, your little boyfriend will be here soon, I'm sure he would love to see you die too.” She smiled before looking back, a small figure catching (y/n)’s attention. “After all, you are the reason for Allison’s death and I knew he wouldn’t come willingly so, I had to steal something he cared about.” She snapped her fingers and in a matter of seconds Mateo appeared in front of (y/n). “Oh don’t worry, i won’t hurt him.” She shoved him into the small circle, he had been crying non-stop. “It’s up to you to take care of him while he gets here.” She smiled before leaving the room, locking the door in the process. Mateo looked at (y/n), she was covered in blood as she desperately tried to take a deep breath in without feeling pain, but there wasn’t a chance she was going to. Mateo cried, wiping his small hands over his eyes before looking down.  

“It’s going to be okay, your dad’s going to come get you.” (Y/N) whispered ad Mateo looked at her once more. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered, she felt responsible for him loosing his mother, he would had a family if it wasn’t for her and she knew that. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated as the tears spilled from her eyes. She didn’t know what caused Mateo to put his small hands on her cheeks but he did. He wiped away her tears as his own kept spilling from his own.  

“Daddy will help us.” And his words were half true, Mateo would be saved, but would (y/n) be? 

_____

forever tags; @bojabee @imperfect-circle

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Story tags; @spongebob3526 @myangelarcade @16wiishes @teenwolfbitches2 @2007rh

If you want to be tagged in this or any other story message me!

[ben-j-man]

The Angaran Chronicles: An Ulterior Motive- Chapter 1

After the destruction of her village, the only survivor: Emilia is saved by a stranger: an elf named Anargrin. Who claims to work for a mercenary organisation known and respected all over the continent of Angara: The Hunters. He asks for no payment and to help her with the sickness that threatens to overwhelm her.

But why?

Cover art by: http://d1sarmon1a.deviantart.com/art/Anargrin-607964404

I update every Monday!

An Ulterior Motive by Benjamin Agar

Year: 2379 A.H.V. (After Holy Victory)

Age: The Medivale age

Country: The Kingdom of Camaria

Emilia awoke, back to the pain, back to the bitter cold. Back to the blur of the starry night sky and the branches looming above.

She'd been dreaming, a good dream, a warm dream.

She shivered. The cold, it burned through the thick fur blankets wrapped around her. Her whole being ached, it almost made her forget the agony of the bite, the ragged wound on her shoulder covered in bandages.

Emilia cried out as the agony returned. She writhed, clutched at her shoulder, but a strong hand stopped her.

'Emilia. Emilia. Please.'

Her breaths shuddering, Emilia rolled over to find Anargrin, the handsome, elf leaned over her. His large eyes were wide with watering concern.

'Anargrin?' she managed. 'How...long?'

'About three hours,' said the Hunter and stood to his slight height, his eyes darting, surveying their surroundings.

'Can you walk, Emilia?'

'I don't know.'

Anargrin sighed. 'I'd thought so, and I'm sorry to say, it's only going to get worse.'

Tears welled in Emilia's eyes. 'Why? Why did this happen to me?'

Anargrin hissed and turned to her with wide-eyed sympathy.

'In all honesty, I'm sorry, I don't know. Sometimes life is...well for want of a better word, shit. I could tell you many a myriad story that has contributed to this horrid tragedy: some fact, some pure conjecture. But we haven't the time. I'm sorry.'

Emilia tried to blink back the tears and sniffed. Sometimes the Hunter would say words she found too big to understand.

Anargrin turned and began to pack away their makeshift camp. Emilia managed to make out the expensive black leather armour he wore but the sword he'd fought with weeks ago was nowhere to be seen, she had no idea where he could be hiding it.

'Why did Jaroai abandon me?' she cried. 'Why?'

Anargrin rounded on her. 'He doesn't exist, that's why. And it was all because of your precious Jaroai that this happened in the first place.'

Emilia found she couldn't say anything. Never had she heard someone speak against Jaroai. Emilia knew what happened to non-believers, she'd seen what happened to non-believers, and it was beyond horrible.

No one deserved such a punishment. If Jaroai truly cared and loved her as much as they said, surely with all his power he'd have helped her or her mother and sister like Anargrin had helped her?

This non-believer had done far more for her than Jaroai ever had.

Maybe he was right, maybe Jaroai didn't exist, or didn't care. She...she always had her doubts, her questions, but had always been too afraid to voice them- if Jaroai was so powerful, why did people need to die for questioning him? Why? If he was loving why did so many of his followers have to be so cruel in his name?

Either way it angered her, saddened her. With a sigh of her own Emilia rolled on her side.

It took Anargrin a minute or so to pack up the camp; then they were moving again. Emila rode on his back as he jumped from branch to branch, tree to tree. Making what must've been good two to five-metre leaps surefootedly, despite the snow coating everything- he didn't disturb the branches even with both Emilia and the pack on his back.

Emilia fought for sleep but just couldn't, the bouncing about, and sickness in the pit of her stomach prevented her.

'Why can't we just walk on the ground?' she said.

'Because it's nowhere near as fast,' Anargrin said. 'They're still after us, and if they catch up, we'll have the high ground.'

Emilia's heart sank. 'They are?'

'Of course, it's in their nature,' he said. 'They won't stop chasing us until they find us and kill us. They were created that way.'

Emilia couldn't help recall the ancient fable- she'd heard time and time again. 'They were created by that elf sorcerer, during the holy war? Who cursed that town of humans?'

'That's propaganda,' said Anargrin. 'History says that it was, indeed an elf mage, but he'd cursed an army of humans in vengeance for them invading and slaughtering the people of his city. All in Jaroai's name.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' said Emilia.

'You have no need to apologise, Emilia. That was over two thousand years ago; you weren't even a thought back then. You had nothing to do with it, and it's not fair, not right for you to have to suffer for it now.'

Emilia frowned, unsure what to think of that. She couldn't make much of the Hunter. She'd known of the Hunters since she was young. The mysterious organisation made up of many different races, they travelled from town to town, slaying vampires, but always for a price. The priest of her village had spoken against them, hated them. He said they were selfish and evil. The Hunters doing what they did for the sake of gold, not for what mattered- the people and Jaroai.

Emilia's priest had never mentioned them to be non-believers, but Anargrin was one and if he was, could other Hunters be the same? They said that non-believers were soulless and cruel, yet Anargrin had saved her. He'd risked himself for her. That didn't seem to be the act of someone soulless and cruel, was it?

'Although it doesn't matter whether we leave a trail or not, in all honesty,' said Anargrin, bringing Emilia back to reality. 'They've your scent, your taste, that's all they need. Not leaving a trail will only slow them down. Slightly.'

'Where are we going?' Emilia slurred.

'The only place we can go where I know you'll get the help you need,' he said.

'Like a cure?'

Anargrin didn't answer for a good while; he just continued leaping across gaps no average person would be capable of.

'No,' he said. 'I'm sorry; there's no cure for lycanthropy.'

Emila's heart sank again. 'So why are we-?'

'Because while there isn't a cure,' he said. 'There is a way for you to learn to control it, to save your humanity and personality. Prevent you from becoming like the mindless beasts that slaughtered your people. I can't save you but I know those that can, we just have to...have to...'

'Have to what?' trying and failing to hide her disappointment.

'Have to cross the border,' Anargrin said, it sounded like he said it through clenched teeth.

'Cross the border to where?'

Anargrin sighed, 'I...I guess you'll find out eventually. We...we need to cross the border to Valandri.'

Emilia's insides turned to ice. 'But-but that's the vampire nation.' She gasped and with her hazy vision, looked west, through the trees and to the enormous mountain range still miles away- and the pitch black clouds that covered the skies beyond.

'We can't go there,' she stammered.

'We can and we will,' said Anargrin.

'But, how can we get through the mountains?'

'We have ways,' said Anargrin. 'You needn't worry.'

'And the vampires?'

Anargrin sighed. 'They won't hurt you. They aren't all evil as the church constantly claims. In fact, the majority aren't.'

Emilia was finding it even harder to breath. The fear gripped her heart, and she began to struggle.

'Please, calm yourself,' Anargrin snapped. 'You'll make me fall.'

'Please. Please, I can't go to Valandri. Please don't make me.'

'I'm sorry, Emilia. But unless you wish to turn into a mindless beast, or for me to cut your throat and leave you for dead, you have no choice.'

'But-'

She was interrupted as he stopped and leapt off the last branch. They dropped a good six metres straight toward the forest floor. Emilia screamed, her guts falling. He landed, sliding a metre more, through the snow before stopping. Somehow not destroying his legs.

Emilia slipped off Anargrin's back and onto her bum, into the wet snow, and covered her face behind crossed arms, fighting hard to hold back the tears.

'Listen to me!' Anargrin said, turning to her. 'Listen to me. I swear to you, Emilia. You have nothing to fear.'

'Why?' she whimpered, her voice muffled by her arms.

'What?'

'Why!'

Anargrin sighed and fell to one knee, so they were face to face. He looked into her gaze with his large hazel eyes, and it was then she realised just how very pale he was.

'Because, Emilia. There aren't just vampires in Valandri. There are werewolves as well, Werewolves who, for all intents and purposes, are still human. They can help you; they will help you. That's why.'

'That's not what I meant,' Emilia roared. 'Why? Why are you helping me?'

Anargrin's eyes widened then before she could blink he was standing, turning his back to her.

'Do I really need a reason?' he sighed. 'Tell me, Emilia, how old are you?'

'Seventeen,' she said.

He turned back to her, smiling. 'Isn't it enough for me to want to save a young girl from such a fate because she is so young, she hasn't had the opportunity to truly enjoy her life? Because she truly didn't deserve such a horrific fate?'

Emilia didn't answer. She just stared up at him. Her vision blurred with tears.

Anargrin sighed yet again, scratched his head and said. 'Alright, I can understand your suspicion, and I will admit I'm not exactly the typical "squeaky clean" saviour like in the storybooks, okay?'

He smiled and held out his gloved hand to her. 'And let's leave it at that.'

Emilia just glanced at his hand, then to his face and there and back again for what must've been a good minute. But Anargrin didn't seem to mind, he just stood, smiling.

Eventually, his smile proved infectious, and she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

'I'm sorry, Anargrin,' she said, ashamed at her actions and she swore to herself she'd do anything to try and repay him for saving her. 'And thank you.'

'No,' he said, shaking his head but still smiling. 'No, thank you, Emilia.'

[themysteriouslou]

Of night talks and decisions to make.

Just a little Jess Black x Mary May fic for @elusetta ❤ also found on ao3!

In retrospect, Mary May should've known.

It all started with one of the deputy's visits to the Spread Eagle, every bit of them as exhausted as they were proud for the progress the Resistance had made in the county. Mary May couldn't help but feel the same: it was only a matter of time until the valley returned to their hands, until they took back the properties and supplies John Seed had "bought" over the years.

Until they avenged the loved ones the peggies took with them in their crusade. Mary May shook her head, blond hair spraying over her chest as she moved to greet the deputy in person, images of her family lingering in the back of her mind as a reminder of her previous thoughts.

"Deputy," she grinned at them, "I suppose you want the usual, ain't you?"

Rook chuckled, darting their eyes from the window alongside them to her, "Thanks, Mae," a grateful smile lit up their wearied features as they rubbed the skin under their eyes to focus, "I'm starving."

"Casey will have it soon," the barkeep comforted, looking over her shoulder to seek confirmation from the cook. He raised his thumbs at her, mouthing the time it will take for the order to be up, "ten minutes, if you wait."

"Perfect."

"But in the meantime," Mary May took seat in front of them, her usually animated tone switching to a serious one, "Jerome told us you've been helping our folks in the mountains. How did it go?"

She didn't miss the way Rook's shoulders slumped slightly, leaning away from the table to give a quick scrutiny of their surroundings. There were a few people scattered through the bar enjoying their drinks, however, no one of them were close enough to hear their conversation. Everything’s clear.

"What's the last thing you heard from the militia?" they asked.

"They kept losing men to Jacob Seed's hunters," she furrowed her brow, recalling the radio messages Jerome used to get from Eli before the cult blocked their only connection to the northern region of the county, "peggies were enclosing places associated with militia, even capturing people when they had the chance."

"It was worse than I expected." Rook's eyes glazed over and singled on a dust moot beside their hands, both on top of the table. Whatever they saw in the Whitetail Mountains, it was enough to bother them more than anything the peggies had done in the valley. "People are kept in cages, Mae, like animals —I'm sure those were animal cages, considering there were Judges next to them. The peggies there have more training than John’s; they have stealth in their arsenal and definitely won't play around when it comes to shooting you on sight. They’re ruthless, just as their leader."

They lowered their voice until the words died down, staring at the table with a frown on their face, hands turning into loose fists. Mary May didn't doubt they were angry at the cruelty displayed before them—all of them were, but Rook must have felt the weight of it as part of their oath to serve and protect the people in the county.

She slid from her chair, hands palming the bottles under the table until she found what she was searching. A vodka bottle as well as two small glasses was put on the table, which awarded her a thankful look from Rook.

"Dutch kept me updated on every radio call he could catch from the region," they continued, as she poured the drink on the glasses, "once I crossed the border, he asked me to go check on his niece at the Baron Lumber Mill-”

Her eyes widened, "Jess was captured?"

It was like receiving a sucker punch to the stomach, except all attempts to take a breath were completely useless.

Mary May had known Jess Black for years. She had been a regular to the bar, back when her parents were out working and she hadn't anywhere to go. It had taken some time for Jess to open up, as distrustful as she was, but when she did, it was easy for Mary May to see the troubled and soft soul hidden under layers of conflict and harshness. Even when she ran away to live with her grandmother, she kept returning to the bar, if only to talk to her.

The bar was my sanctuary, Jess had told her once, and you were the first that tried to understand me. You never gave up on me, so why should I give up on this place, on you?

Those words, as well as the raw vulnerability revealed on her mien, touched something within her heart to such an extent that Mary May swore she'd always be there for Jess Black even if it killed her in the attempt. A quiet promise, one she kept close to her chest, of always cherishing her—full of anger, but oh so wonderful as she was.

"She was." Rook confirmed her deepest fear, lips drawing into a tight line while reaching for their vodka glass. "Not for long, though."

A sigh of relief left her lips, thoughts running wild in her mind. Maybe I should give Rook free food deals after this disaster ends. She could felt her muscles loosen up from the stiffness she had experienced mere seconds ago, and by instinct she raised her hands up to her face to soften the clenched muscles of her jaw, choosing to continue the talk lest Rook noticed something wrong with her.

"Was... was she okay?"

"Relatively unharmed, if we're speaking of physical injuries. Emotionally?" They have her a wry smile, "Jess was furious. She explained to me what Jacob's plans were while I followed her and rescued some hostages along the way. He's building an army, Mae," their eyes found hers, and there was strange glint in their eye which she recognized quickly. Horror, "the Whitetails can barely defend themselves with the supplies they have now. The Wolf's Den is the only thing protecting them."

Mary May reached over the table and placed her hand on Rook's shoulder, squeezing it gently in support of the discouraging prospects laid in front of them. "We'll get out of this, Dep. Don't doubt it."

"Of course not." Rook sighed, drinking another mouthful of vodka before continuing their report. "While Jacob's training his men in the mountains, he left the command to his most direct subordinates to execute the holding of outposts and such. One of these subordinates was the... "man" in charge of the Baron Lumber Mill and the Quarry, although "monster" is a more accurate term for him."

"Who was he?"

"Jess called him "The Cook".

Mary May hissed. "Oh, him."

The deputy blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her words. "You've heard of him?"

"Who hasn't heard of him?" Mary May's fingers curled around her vodka glass, disgust filling her chest at the memory of that man's actions. "Even here tales of his devotion to culling the herd aren't quite as uncommon. Crazy motherfucker from what I've been told."

"You aren't wrong," a shadow fell over their features, the events of that day vividly playing in their mind over and over again as they recounted them. "Jess hated his guts, which is understandable, seeing he was the cause of the most traumatic episode she'll ever live."

"What did he do to her?" she was aware of how she had raised her voice considerably, along with the way her voice wavered between a protective and fierce tone, but it didn’t matter. Not now. “What happened?"

The deputy shook their head, dark expression shifting to an apologetic and sympathetic one. "It's Jess' story to tell, not mine. I'm sorry, Mae."

Her whole body deflated at their words, letting all her weight fall in the chain. She wanted to find Jess, wanted to check if she was okay, wanted to hold her in her arms, keep safe and sound and away from those who tried to harm her. Wanted to hear her story, to chase the pain away from her wounded heart.

But she couldn't, not yet.

"Jess killed him in the end," Rook said lowly, "but she wasn't relieved of her anger, she didn't feel any different from before. That's when she understood what Dutch had tried to tell her: revenge doesn't bring back what you've lost."

Revenge doesn't bring back what you've lost. It made her head spin, consider the situation from a different perspective. She could see herself in Jess' shoes, could see her family in the corner of one eye, and John Seed's smirk in the other.

It alarmed her how dangerously simple it was to believe the anger that boiled deep within her would disappear once he was deal with, until all that was left of him was reclaimed by nature while his soul rot in hell. It was even easier to believe her pain would go away with it, that she would find peace in her parents' deaths and Drew choosing the opposite side of the destructive war tearing their county apart. That everything would return to how it had been, before the cult settled and started taking everything from them. Jess knew, and now Mary May did as well.

They had a lot more in common with each other than what she had thought.

Just as she was about to ask Rook about their other endeavors in the Whitetail region, Casey yelled from the kitchen about the order being done and waiting. The barkeep stood up from her seat and went to retrieve it, setting the dish in front of the deputy and watching with a little smile as their face lit up at smell of it. I know the North has more than enough wild animals to satisfy the whole county if necessary, but...

I wonder when was the last time they ate a full meal without hunting for it first.

She went to assist her other clients, trying to take off her mind from a teal-eyed archer whose whereabouts were unknown for her. Jess had always been restless and wild, couldn't leave an injustice happen if she knew she could prevent it. Surely she must be wandering in the forests, risking her life for the hostages and civilians the cult was threatening. Is she eating well? Mary May wondered, has she found somewhere to stay the night?

Is she thinking of me, just as I'm thinking of her?

When she finished, giving out a sigh as she inspected the bar, she noticed Rook was getting up from their seat, collecting their bag and weapons along the way.

"You leaving, Dep?"

"Yup. I left Boomer at Nick and Kim's and I have to go to check on them before going to the Henbane." Rook slung their bag over their shoulder, making sure there wasn't anything they were leaving behind. "The mayor said the Jail was a safe spot for the Resistance members, so I guess that will be my next stop following this."

"Don't forget to go talk to Pastor Jerome while you're there."

"I won't!" They turned to leave, giving a few steps towards the door before stopping in their tracks. Surprised, Mary May saw their shoulders shaking slightly as they looked at her over their shoulder, a shit-eating grin present in their lips.

"Oh and, Mae?" Rook said sweetly, hands searching deliberately slow through their pockets until they found what they were looking for. Mary May swore there was an evil twinkle in their eyes, observing her possible reaction with hardly restrained glee, as they handed her a radio that they must have picked as a backup in case the one they had stopped working. "You should contact her, y'know. Jess told me you two were close. She could use some comforting and encouraging words from you, don't ya think?"

The barkeep froze, feeling the heat bloom in her cheeks. "If you don't get outta my bar in ten seconds so help me God, not even the Seeds will find you, Rook."

The door closing with a subdued thud, as well as the amused chuckle that could be heard from outside, were the only replies to her threat. Even if she was joking, Rook knew Mary May was capable of delivering what she promised and they preferred to take preventive steps away from the bar. Just in case, of course.

What's life without some risks, after all?

Mary May stared at the door, disbelief painted in her face for all to see. That rookie, she took the lone and empty glasses from the corner of the table, cleaning them distractedly. I can't believe they had the gall to tell me that.

She should've known Rook would notice and tease her for her crush on Jess. It was expected from them, part of their lighthearted manner of attempting to nudge her to have something from herself following the tragedy and death she experienced in the past months.

Perhaps… Perhaps they were right.

Her blue eyes darted to the radio they gave her, considering her options.

I have to make one last radio call before closing the bar. Then... we'll see.

[agrimtotem]

horns

“Did it hurt?”

Dyanisi blinks, startled by the question, and turns to look over her shoulder. Her hand, which had dropped to the hilt of her sword in warning, goes back to its place at her side once she recognizes the speaker as non-threatening.

Eisha Sparrowsong, or Sparrow, as the rest of the Braves call her, is staring at the small, blunted stubs where Dyanisi’s horns used to be. Sparrow is small, barely more than a calf, with soft sorrel-colored fur and hooves that she hasn’t grown into, and looks about as intimidating as her namesake. Dyanisi had quietly disdained being placed in the same Brave squad as the youngling, but understood the reasoning; she was Grimtotem, and she wasn’t to be trusted. She’d have to earn her place in the Bluffs.

When Dyanisi doesn’t respond immediately, Sparrow gestures towards her head and then at her own horns, as brown as her fur and curled out slightly. “It looks like it hurt. I can’t imagine what that felt like. When they, you know.” She clears her throat. Dyanisi stares at her silently, one eyebrow raised. “...cut them off,” the calf finishes on a mumble, clearly having lost her confidence in the question.

Dyanisi holds her gaze for a long, awkward moment before turning her eyes back out across the horizon and answering simply and bluntly, “No.”

There’s a sharp chuckle to the other side of her, deep and throaty, and Dyanisi and Sparrow both turn to look at Tahno where he leans heavily against the axe he’s planted into the ground. “Of course it didn’t,” he huffs, resting his massive chin in one massive hand. “Haven’t you heard? Grimtotem don’t feel pain.”

Where Sparrow is small and unimpressive, Tahno Steephoof is massive, a mountain of a bull. He wields a greataxe nearly his own height and his chestnut fur stretches over comically large muscles. Dyanisi is not petite by any stretch of the imagination, and truthfully has been a bit disappointed with the warriors that Thunderbluff has had to offer as a whole, but even in comparison to her Tahno is large. He’s the second in command of their squad, is quick for someone his size, and more clever than he pretends to be.

Dyanisi hates him.

He smirks at her, then looks back behind her to Sparrow, whose eyes have widened in surprise. “They make special totems and bleed over them,” he says to the younger girl airily, “and after that they can’t feel pain as long as the totem is close by. But where, I wonder,” he continues, eyes cutting back to Dyanisi and narrowing as his smirk grows, “does she keep it? She’d have to carry it on her, but I don’t see it.”

Sparrow goggles at her and Dyanisi snorts derisively. “He’s lying, child,” she says, her voice tight and sharp with warning, her ears tipping back.

“Oh,” Tahno says brightly, as if struck by a sudden realization. “I bet it’s right up there with the stick she’s shoved up her--”

Dyanisi lunges for him, sword halfway drawn from its sheath, before her sense catches up to her and she stops. Tahno hasn’t moved, but she can see his muscles tighten and tense in anticipation, and his smirk has shifted into a sneer. Do it, his expression seems to dare her, dark brown eyes glittering, give me a reason.

It takes a long, long moment before Dyanisi can control her breathing, stomp down on the rage building in her chest. Once she’s sure that her next movement won’t be to see how much of his muscled neck she can cut into with one swing, she releases her grip on her sword once more and moves back to her previous position, rocks shifting and crunching under her hooves. The valley below is calm and peaceful, and the winds are calm enough today that she doesn’t have to brace against them while standing at the edge of the bluff. She has a very brief, very fanciful daydream where she just-- shoves Tahno off the cliff and waves at him cheerily as he plummets. Then she takes a long, deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, and turns back to look at Sparrow. The younger girl’s eyes are wide and horrified, darting between Dyanisi and Tahno in concern.

“You don’t have feeling in your horns,” Dyanisi says dryly. “If a warrior were crippled every time a horn broke then none of the tribes would have warriors.”

She wonders if she should be embarrassed by her horns, if she should feel dishonored. They’re shorn flat close to her skull, as close as can be safely done. It was a requirement: if she wanted to become a Brave of Thunderbluff, she would have to give up her horns. After all, the Grimtotem aren’t the only tribe with dark fur, and without the trademark facepaint there would be no way to recognize her as one of the defectors. She could be a craftsmen with horns or a warrior without them, and she knows no craft well enough to support herself. A shu’halo who cannot support herself is left behind, and a shu’halo left behind is as good as dead.

She may not walk with the Grimtotem anymore, but she remembers what her tribe had taught her: the strong survive, and the weak die. It’s easier to be stronger with a sword.

Sparrow glances from Dyanisi to Tahno as if looking for confirmation, and he shrugs noncommittally, seemingly disappointed that Dyanisi didn’t rise to his bait. She looks back to Dyanisi, eyes wide and questioning. It’s uncomfortable, and Dyanisi shifts away from her. For all that Sparrow is, technically, an adult, she still seems so… calf-like. Dyanisi has never enjoyed calves, never bothered to spend much time with them. She’s a warrior, not a breeder, and besides, most of the calves of her old clan didn’t make it to adulthood. Not much point in getting attached.

“There’s a… pressure,” she answers finally, relenting. “And blood, but it doesn’t hurt, mostly.” Sparrow’s eyes widen nervously at the mention of blood, and Dyanisi makes a mental note to keep her distance from the calf. She’s untested and unbled, and she’ll be more of a hindrance in battle than a help.

“But won’t that make it harder to fight?” Sparrow asks, leaning even closer. Dyanisi throws a harried look at Tahno, but he’s back to smirking at her and just raises his brows, which is fair she shouldn’t have expected any help from them. “Do you… do the Grimtotem use their horns to fight often?”

Dyanisi chews on her response for a moment, trying to decide if she’s loyal enough to her old tribe to keep their secrets, and then shrugs. “No. Horns mostly just get in the way. Sometimes,” she says pointedly, “bulls keep them long to compensate for something.” The comment goes right over Sparrow’s head, but Dyanisi hears Tahno muffle a snort of laughter that he cuts off short and when she glances back over at him with a smirk he’s glaring at her, as if offended that she’d said something amusing. “Chieftains might let them grow to look intimidating, but shorter was generally preferred.” She trails off for a moment, lost in thought. “One of my brothers got his horns stuck in briars during a raid on the Kraul. It was one of my first hunts. He’d been shot in the leg with an arrow and was having trouble keeping up, and when he tripped and fell he got tangled in the thorns.”

“Did you have to cut him out?” Sparrow asks nervously, as if hoping for a good answer but fearing a bad one. Dyanisi hesitates, and looks back at Tahno for a brief moment. The expression on his face is stony. They both know that she didn’t.

“...there was no point,” Dyanisi finishes. “After he fell he didn’t get back up.”

Sparrow falls silent, eyes going even wider than usual, and Tahno is a mountain of judgement behind her. Dyanisi turns her eyes back out to the plains below.

What actually happened was this:

Brannen had been shot and he’d tried to keep up, but he’d fallen and gotten tangled. Dyanisi and her other brothers and sisters had paused long enough to determine that it’d take more time than he was worth to cut him out, and they’d left him. He’d been enough of a distraction to the Quillboar that the rest of them were able to get through the Kraul without pursuit. For a week or so following, Dyanisi had heard his screams in her sleep, his shouted pleas for his siblings to come back and help him, the sick wet sound when the Quillboar had descended on him. She’d heard them in her sleep and woken disgusted that she’d once called someone so craven a brother.

“Give me a sword and take my horns,” she says finally, glancing over her shoulder to make eye contact with Tahno once more. All the humor is gone from his face, and he eyes her like an assessment, like he’s determining a threat. Good. Let him remember who she is. She stares at him and says, “I kill better with a sword anyway.”

------------------

(( dyanisi is a grimtotem defector who joined the horde following cairne’s death. while she personally was not part of the grimtotem branch that took control of thunderbluff, not having been in the area at the time, she still faced exile with the rest of her tribe, and was among those who chose to submit to baine. she became a bluffwatcher, though admittedly under heavy scrutiny of the squad that she worked with, from the time of the cataclysm up to the events of the battle for azeroth.

her squad was led by osso brighthorn (Ret Paladin), and consisted of herself (Prot warrior), tahno steephoof (arms warrior), eisha sparrowsong (or just sparrow, MM hunter), and maiyra steephoof (resto druid, tahno’s cousin). eventually she and her squad settled into each other, but it’s fun for me to think about their early dynamics.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still unused to horde stuff and i’m slowly learning lore as i go but i like writing and i like tropes and i like tauren so here’s my very tropey tauren))

[fantasticworldoffanfics]

PETER/STILES

                                           ——— (part 4) ——–

Fandom: TeenWolf

Even a longer list of fanfics :)….

top favourites, more top favourites, part 1, part 2, part 3

Bittersweet Creek

Author: Guede

Summary: When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

The Glade

Author: makingitwork

Summary: We do what they want and what we want they make us want.

Hollow Moon

Author: Bootsrcool

Summary: What if Stiles got bit instead of Scott?But wait! Is that Peter? The man he gives flowers to in the hospital cause he never sees anyone give the comatose man flowers? Peter? Your awake?!Its a fix-it, cause I cant resist!

The Shepherd Boy and the Wolves

Author: Guede

Summary: After Derek’s nearly seduced by a hunter into betraying his family, his mother thinks it’s a good idea to send him out into the world and learn how not to fall for traps like that. Peter comes along, because Peter likes exploring, and that’s why they decide to explore a haunted mountain.Stiles lives on that mountain. With his sheep. They’re very tasty-looking, and well, Derek and Peter are werewolves.Hah.

Temporary Claim

Author: run_for_me

Summary: Some, of course, are off limits. Queen Talia and her husband have their special favorites who join their marriage bed from time to time. Laura has several young strapping men that are hers and hers alone. Even Derek has a few favorites—the quiet ones, the sweet ones.Peter? The Duke only has one.

Hooked

Author: Udunie

Summary: The car stopped right by him, so he pushed himself away from the wall, walking up to it, licking his lips as he saw the window being lowered.“Hey there,” he said. The first contact always felt awkward, no matter how many times he did it. But at least he knew that he would be A-okay once he was on his knees, sucking the guy like there was no tomorrow.He was a bit taken aback when he saw the driver, because… well, the man was hot as burning. Older, around forty, with a goatee and eyes so blue they sent a shiver down his spine.Stiles had the instinctive urge to back away. It didn’t add up. The guy oozed confidence, had money and was handsome. Absolutely no reason to hire a hooker, when anyone would have wept in joy to get on his dick.“How much for a night?” he asked, giving Stiles a long, calculating look.He should have just sent him away, he knew it. But the deadline on the rent was scratching at the back of his mind, not letting him think clearly. Stiles bit his lip. Fuck it.

The Pack Comes First

Author: RebaK1tten

Summary: The Hale Pack and the McCall Pack have bordering territories and both can benefit from being affiliated with each other. And the surest way to do that is for a mating between a member of each pack.

Soul Hates

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Summary: Stiles always knew that Peter Hale was his soulmate, he just didn't expect that Peter's was somebody else.“I found the documents, Peter,” Stiles said, his teeth grinding together in a hiss. “I found them. My name was never on your arm. You. Lied.”

Wrong But You’re SO Much Fun

Author: sneksonaplane

Summary: The first night Stiles added Ian on snapchat, they sexted for half the night and he came three times. And now Stiles was...here. He’d been talking to the older man for three weeks now and was officially hooked. It wasn’t like they had anything official going, there certainly weren’t feelings involved, they were just friends who sexted a lot. And talked every night, usually until Stiles passed out from exhaustion. And he called Ian Daddy sometimes when they messaged each other. No big deal.

OR

the one where Stiles runs a porn blog and has a major daddy kink, and he starts anonymously sexting with Peter without either of them realizing it. Both of them use nicknames to avoid giving out their real names on the internet, and Peter's fake name/nickname that he uses when he first starts talking to Stiles is "Ian" because I'm garbage. Expect errors and poor formatting because I'm betaless.

Worn Out Shoes

Author: moonstalker24

Summary: When the dead rise, and the world comes to an end, the McCall Pack must learn to live in this new world, or die in the attempt. This is the story of the end, and of the year that follows.

Taste, Touch Fuck

Author: about_two_cats

Summary: Peter comes home to the smell of Omega filling up the apartment. He knows it can come from only one source, the adorable little omega he’s with, Stiles. He follows his nose and finds Stiles ready for a good fucking.

Not Meek, Not Biddable, Too Unconventional So Very Stiles

Author: ladyoneill

Summary: In a world where Betas have become the norm, but Alphas are still the leaders, the wealthy, the powerful, Omegas are very rare and the only ones who can birth or sire Alphas with other Alphas. Born to two Betas, raised as a Beta, of course Stiles presents as an Omega on his sixteenth birthday because his life sucks that way. One month later is his ceremony where technically he chooses an Alpha as his mate for the rest of their lives, and Stiles is given three options. One isn't ever going to happen, a second doesn't really want him, so he chooses the third--a man twice his age, scarred and just out of a six year coma. Scared, because he has very few rights and this stranger can do anything to him, control any aspect of his life, and Stiles isn't a stereotypical submissive Omega happy to be home ironing shirts and suckling babies, he's surprised to find that Peter isn't a stereotype either (for one, he's a damn good cook). Is it possible that his life won't suck that much after all?

Whose Woods These Are

Author: moonstalker24

Summary: Stiles chooses the house simply because it’s far enough out in the wilderness to be away. His… reticence for human contact on any given day coincides entirely with how much pain he’s in when he wakes up the morning. His patience is limited, and he has more bad days than good… So Stiles moves into an old house out in the woods like a creepy serial killer. Reminds himself that other people suck on a regular basis and just sort of gets on with it… It isn’t until after several sightings that Stiles realizes that the wolf is following him. If the wolf decides it wants to eat him, Stiles would be a pretty easy meal….

A Little Too Ironic

Author: RebaK1tten

Summary: Stiles is an omega who needs to find a trusted alpha, purely for legal reasons. Peter Hale is probably not his first choice.

Love What is Behind You

Author: KouriArashi

Summary: Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Misconception

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Summary: After weeks of trying Stiles is still unable to get pregnant. He struggles with depression and anxiety, and worries his alphas might choose to leave him for another omega.“Oh god,” he breathed, fumbling out another test from the box. He almost dropped it twice. Twenty minutes later he had another result, just as conclusive as the first. Not pregnant. Not pregnant. Not pregnant.

I Don’t Like You, But I Love You

Author: sweetbutterbliss

Summary: He smells him before he sees him, the scent competing over the sticky smell of stale beer and sweat. It smells like burnt sugar, a little bitter mixed in with the sweetness. He leaves the paperwork on the desk and steps out of his office, passing the bathrooms that he can tell Erica still hasn't cleaned.A lithe, what Peter could only describe as a boy is standing in the middle of the empty bar, one hand gripping the dolly's handle full of boxes of Hair of the Dog; one of the few werewolf beers that doesn't taste of ass. (And Peter would know.) His mouth is slightly parted as he surveys the bar and Peter suppressed thoughts of what he could put in that mouth.

Stiles the Strange Pet

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Summary: Peter welcomes a strange new house guest.

All Hale

Author: dornfelder

Summary: Stiles wakes from the absence of warmth at his back and the sound of a toilet flushing. He moves his tongue from where it’s stuck to his palate and filling his mouth with the taste of stale death. Blinking gritty, itching eyes open, he finds the world too bright, too real to deal with just yet. He snuggles up closer to Derek, burrowing into his bulk. Derek’s reaction is a content rumble. He pulls Stiles closer. Beard stubble grazes his neck as Derek opens one sleepy eye.Wait – wait. What. The fuck?Stiles sits up. Derek’s arm falls from his waist and he watches Derek’s eyes grow wide with dawning horror that mirrors his own.“Good morning, my lovelies,” Peter’s cheerful voice announces from the doorstep. “Rise and shine. Early wolf catches the deer.”

Starverse

Author: Green

Part 1: All My Stars Aligned

Summary: Stiles needs to find an alpha ASAP. Actually, the doctors say he really needs two. Damn biology.Chris and Peter are two alphas in hopeless, doomed love with each other.

Part 2: Starcrossed

Summary: That was where it started, when their eyes met, and Chris smiled. Peter melted and fell in love in an instant, and kept falling in love every single time he dared to look again.

^sidenote: nearly made it to my TOP FAVS list

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills

Author: Guede

Summary: Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

Talia’s Master Plan For Love

Author: Irukashi_Narukib

Summary: Basically Peter wants nothing to do with this but can't avoid it. Same with Stiles but shit happens anyway. HAHA fuck them both.

Born Of Shadows

Author: xxxillusionxxx

Summary: Something is strange about Stiles and Peter is the only one who seems to notice.

Wake Me Up

Author: ToAStranger

Summary: Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

The High is Worth the Pain

Author: thegirlwhoknits

Summary: Stiles is an emissary-in-training whose teacher has sent him to Peter for his first-level initiation tattoo. The only problem is, Stiles has a kind of embarrassing reaction to pain...

Suppressants are Dumb Anyway Series

Author: vaudevillian_villainess

Part 1: Good Little Omega

Summary: Stiles is such a good little omega for his Alpha.Series

Part 2: The Price of Love

Summary: Peter and Stiles have to tell everyone about their mating...fun times!

A Welcome Arrow

Author: 1001cranes

Summary: The wedding is small and grim, because Stiles is being carted off to parts unknown, married to a thirty-something year old dude who wants to marry a seventeen year old dude - totally not creepy at all. Regency AU.

Name

Author: Corpium

Summary: When Stiles goes back in time to save Paige and stop Gerard, he doesn't expect Peter Hale.

Pigments and Pentacles Series

Author: SushiOwl

Part 1: Magic Needle

Summary: “One--” He stabbed the needle right through skin and cartilage, pulling a loud squawk out of Stiles.Stiles sucked in a few quick breaths then started to laugh. “You son of a bitch,” he snorted. “You said on three.”“I lied,” Peter replied, smiling down at him.Series

Part 2: You Give Me An Oral Fixation

Summary: "So, I want more piercings.""Oh? And where would these piercings be?""Guess."

Part 3: Time To Improvise

Summary: "Want to hear something weird?""From you, I've come to expect it.""Well, this time it's about your penis.""Do tell."

Part 4: Pillow Talk

Summary: “You’re going to have to move if you want to fuck me, y’know,” he murmured in Peter’s ear.Peter smiled. “I don’t plan on moving,” he told him. “I’m so comfortable.”“Then how are…?” Stiles asked, sounding adorably confused. Peter gave him a moment, and he let out a soft ooh. Peter looked at him over his shoulder and saw him lick his lips. “You serious about this?”“I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise,” Peter told him, before he snuggled back into the pillow. “Think you can handle doing all the work?”

Part 5: Back In Black (Fur)

Summary: “What are you doing?” Stiles asked as the backs of his legs hit the bed and he flopped down on his back. “You’re not seriously going to molest me in my father’s house, are you?”“The concept absolutely tickles me,” Peter admitted, climbing over Stiles and bracketing him with his arms and legs. “I want to make you scream in your old room and know that I’m the first.”Stiles snorted. “Narcissist.”“Most definitely,” Peter agreed, leaning in to kiss him.

Part 6: Mark My Skin

Summary: There's a new wolf at the shop.Series

Part 7: Moon High

Summary: “You did that purposely, didn’t you?”“Of course I did,” Stiles said, putting his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “I know about that possessive streak of yours, and I like to see it come out.” He started to pull Peter back towards the bar.“Do you now? Do you want me to stake a claim? I could jerk off on your face right here, but we’ll probably get arrested.”Series

Part 8: And Then There Were Three

Summary: "You okay, Carina?" Stiles asked, sitting down in his chair.Carina chewed at her bottom lip a second. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to ask you guys something," she said, straightening up. "Formally."

Part 9: You Two Are Dorks (But So Am I)

Summary: "I need an apprentice," he said as he lined up his ink cups. He wanted someone to make everything ready for him so he could focus on just the tattoos."You should make Stiles do it," Carina said, not lifting her eyes from the Plants vs Zombies design she was working on. "Since he doesn't contribute.""Hey," Stiles said, turning away from his studying to look at her. "I'm doing very important work here. So nyeh." He stuck out his tongue.Series

Part 10: Alliances

Summary: “Aw, Peter made a friend,” Stiles cooed.

Part 11: For You, For Me, For All Of Us

Summary: A few days later, the doorbell jingled, and a familiar scent hit Peter’s nose. He turned, already smiling, and there was Vince at the door, grinning ear to ear.

Part 12: Red Splash

Summary: "Can we keep him?"

Part 13: Wild Run

Summary: “I can’t just get naked in front of you guys like that, jeez,” he said, turning and heading for the trees. “I need some privacy!”“Performance issues?” Carina called after him.“It happens to everyone!” Reggie added, before he and Carina started to giggle.

Part 14: Hold Me Down

Summary: Some birthday cake and a birthday dance.

Ecosystem Engineering and the Werewolf

Author: Guede

Summary: Stiles and his dad work for the U.S. Forest Service, which sends them to Beacon Hills. It’d be nice if Stiles could stop running into the Hales. He’s got bodies to get rid of.

more fics: part 5

[alittlestarling]

Welcome Home, Good Hunter

Their quest into the Hinterlands to meet with the rebel mages doesn’t go as planned and an upsetting discovery brings Roz and Vincent closer.

Read on Ao3

Part 1

Part 2: The Hinterlands

“Can you hear that?” Roz pulled gently on the reins of her mare as they crested over the final few hills, dipping lower into the valley.

“Hear what?” Vincent asked, her ever-constant companion in the last week as they made their way from the mountain pass and into the heart of Ferelden. Where Roz was uncertain in her riding, Vincent was a natural, murmuring gently in a foreign tongue that she didn’t know to soothe his steed as they trekked onward. The mere fact that he was there, that this wasn’t a fever dream, was still hard for Roz to believe. Staring was hard as well and she had tried to keep her gaze from lingering too long on him.

Instead, she smiled as she gazed out along the vast expanse before them. “Quiet,” she replied after a moment, relishing the sounds of nature instead of fighting that had so often surrounded them in these hills. With the encampments gone for both warring sides, the survivors in the Crossroads could enjoy a little peace before they rebuilt their lives in the hills.

Patting her mare along the side of her neck, Roz couldn’t stop herself from giving what might have been a far-too-early sigh of relief. Fewer fires to put out, less time placing themselves into the crosshairs of danger and more opportunities to see exactly what the people needed here.

What they truly needed.

Leading the way, Roz glanced over her shoulder as they trekked down the steep incline their horses seemed to take with greater ease and confidence than she would have. Vincent had, of course, come along, but he wasn’t the only one. Iron Bull held up the end of the group, shooting the breeze easily with Varric and, right in the middle, Vincent’s older brother, Rolfe, had been flirting with Cassandra at a steady clip since they left Haven.

Though they had only just begun to grow closer, Roz could tell that, despite the rebuffs and irritated sighs, Cassandra wasn’t completely indifferent to the lighthearted teasing and flirting Rolfe offered. Resistant, stubborn to admit it, but Roz didn’t think anything with Cassandra came particularly easily. Especially when it came to close relationships, not just romance.

“Do you think your brother will tire of flirting with Cassandra?” Roz leaned in conspiratorially, glancing back a moment to let her gaze linger over Rolfe riding alongside Cassandra.

“I doubt it,” Vincent had leaned in close, the warm scent of cedar and salt making her dizzy a moment. She tried not to think too hard as the pair of them shared a moment; his laugh was low, rumbling from his chest while Roz stifled a giggling snort before straightening along her saddle again.

“He has his work cut out for him,” Roz shook her head with a little laugh. “She’s a tough one to crack.”

“And my brother isn’t so easily dissuaded, so long as she hasn’t outright rejected him.”

“It doesn’t seem that way,” Roz snickered lightly but leaned back away from him, straightening once more. “I wouldn’t discount his chances just yet.” Besides, despite her tough exterior, Roz had caught a glimpse of what she had discovered was a rather delightfully dirty romance novel during their first night on the road to Redcliffe, sworn to secrecy once Cassandra realized her secret was out.

Without the threat of attack looming over them, the people of the Crossroads looked a little less world-worn, the weariness gone from their postures. Tents had been set-up for those still transitioning and efforts to rebuild homes that had burned in the fires were underway.

Even with their need to reach the rebels in the village, Roz couldn’t just leave without making sure things were doing alright.

“Rosalind,” Cassandra gently interjected as Roz finished dropping herbs off with a healer that had finally taken up residence in the small camp (with a quick chat about some tinctures that could be brewed with spindleweed that grew in abundance along the creek nearby), “we should make our way towards Redcliffe.”

“I know, I know,” Roz blew a small strand of red that had strayed from her usual braid, the small wispy hair refusing to stay put, “I just have a few more things to look into.” The caches had been marked, food was being distributed and the land may have been safer to hunt on now, but Roz felt the itch to simply do more. Their worlds had been torn apart, flipped off their axis, and if she couldn’t help with the smaller things, how could anyone trust her to help with some of the larger, more overwhelming tasks that stretched before her?

As if to counter her thoughts, her mark sparked and she curled her palm tightly into a fist to extinguish the green light that constantly haunted her.

Her mood soured slightly as she passed along a letter from a templar; despite her own, personal feelings towards the establishment, she wasn’t about to let anyone’s last words to someone they loved go without remark. Vincent noticed, stepping into stride behind her after she’d finished recruiting Ellandra to their cause.

“You seem troubled.” It was a statement rather than a question, an opening for Roz to speak her mind if she decided to. Finding the words, however, were hard, especially when her own feelings were a mixed bag these days.

“I don’t understand how anyone in the Circle could have a romance with a Templar,” she began, dropping her voice low, pausing to pluck fresh elfroot from standing water beside them. “All the Templars I knew were…well, no, let me start again.” Frowning, she started over, trying to find any shred of tact she had left for the order.

“Not all Templars were terrible, but enough of them knew how to abuse and use their powers to benefit themselves. I’ve seen too many of them remain passive while others held the leash over mages tighter than necessary.” An image unbidden came to mind, those last moments before Alderis was dragged away playing before her. She shook her head, as though she might be rid of them if she tried hard enough. “Perhaps she was lucky. I just can’t understand it.”

“The more I hear about the Circle, the less I like it,” Vincent commented gruffly. “I can’t imagine spending my life living in fear of my gifts.” He glanced to her, holding her gaze a long moment as he added, “And neither should you have gone through such a thing.”

“I survived it. Not everyone did.” Perhaps it was easier in the long-run to lie about her involvement with the rebellion, especially when it helped gain allies to continue to help them seek to bring peace to the regions once more. But it still stuck to her tongue, the bitter pill she had to swallow after lying to Ellandra about exactly where she stood with the rebellion. It was the one thing she didn’t say aloud in those moments, glancing about the Crossroads once more.

Peace, relative quiet and stability. They’d be alright for now. “Come on,” She turned, Vincent falling easily into step with her again, “Cassandra’s been eager to get to Redcliffe. As am I.”

As they mounted back onto their horses, Roz sent a quick prayer to the Maker, her own quiet hope a burning ember in her chest.

Maker, please, please, please, let me find friends among them.

“Something’s not right,” Varric was the first to comment once they’d made their way down to the docks along the lake. Roz’s mind was reeling, piecing together information that didn’t quite make sense. From the first moment they set foot in the village, Roz could feel the unease rolling off the villagers. They whispered behind their hands, eyes wide with uncertainty but that was expected, especially when she considered that they hadn’t anticipated the Inquisition to arrive there at all.

“I don’t understand it,” Roz murmured, playing with the folds of her tunic, pacing back and forth along the shoreline. “We saw Grand Enchanter Fiona in Val Royeaux,” She shot a quick glance to Cassandra and Varric. “I’m not imagining that, right?”

“No,” Cassandra agrees, her own expression grim, sitting on a nearby rock. “I saw her, too. There is something afoul here.”

“If we believe the ‘Vint,” Bull interjected with a dissatisfied grumble, “magic’s to blame.”

Roz closed her eyes tightly, lips pressed together in a thin line as she let out a huffing breath. “Perhaps,” she murmured after a moment, allowing herself to catch her temper in time. Bull, she was realizing the longer they traveled together, didn’t have a high opinion of magic. While she couldn’t discount his suspicion towards the Tevinter mage who had just happened to be there with a far-fetched explanation, she knew better than to write it off completely.

Nothing felt right here. Tevinter was on their doorstep, had indentured the Grand Enchanter herself and, if she believed that time had been altered? Well, the implications were too vast for her to name. She felt a headache coming on, pressing the bridge of her nose with a muted sigh.

“I don’t think you’re going to like my decision, Cassandra,” Roz turned to face the Seeker, pulling her into private conversation as the others peeled away from them.

“Oh?” Perhaps she was gruff and a little too blunt, but at least Roz knew she could be honest with Cassandra, regardless if they shared the same viewpoint on the situation. “And what would that be?”

“I don’t think we have time to seek out the Templars.” It was a relief, in a way, knowing that she wouldn’t be walking into the viper’s nest. Even with support, Roz couldn’t shake the fears that rested in her bones, the knowledge that she had often known through her life with the Order. “With everything we’ve seen today, we have to act, and soon, before things spiral out of control here.” If things fell apart here, it would spread; all the good they had done would be destroyed and the people they had helped would have to flee for their lives once more.

“I can see where you’re coming from,” Cassandra tilted her head, pausing as though to parse out a thought, “but I do not think we should act without the facts. And we do not have any facts from the Templars that abandoned their post in Orlais.”

“But how can they possibly help us close the breach?” Roz snapped back, “Shall we go chase down Lord Seeker Lucius, who I might remind you isn’t our biggest fan, and convince them to, what? Wave a sword at the breach? Compel it to close itself with the power of smite?” The comments clawed from her throat before she could stop them, pacing once again before the Seeker.

“I know what people say, how they view me and all others like me. They did in Orlais and they will do so again if I try to reach them. I know,” she held a hand out as Cassandra made a move to interrupt, stopping for Roz to continue, “not all of them, but enough of them seem against us. To them, we’re a danger that needs containing, a threat that needs to be brought to heel again.” Enough of them wanted to stop the Inquisition before Roz had found herself in the middle of it, never mind now that a mage had the gall to be “chosen” by Andraste.

“You should not judge the Order too harshly.” Cassandra added softly once Roz had finished rambling off all the reasons not to seek out the organization that did not want them.

“And yet that’s exactly what they do to me.” Roz offered a sad sort of smile, the truth of her words seeming to sink slowly into the Seeker. “I do not see that changing anytime soon, Cassandra, do you?”

Tense silence followed and, had they been given a moment longer, perhaps Cassandra would have come up with a different opinion, a new way of looking at things despite what Roz felt in her gut was true. The Templars weren’t the way to go and she just knew that it was a waste to leave things precariously as they were here.

Varric’s voice, however, broke the spell, calling out from down the shoreline. “Seeker, Rosebud, you two might want to see this.” Roz felt her own guard go up at the apprehension in his tone, taking careful strides away from the spot she’d been pacing to approach what she had assumed was an abandoned home along the water’s edge.

The moment she stepped inside, the very air seemed to change. Her breath caught in her throat at the sheer wrongness of it all. Magic rippled from the shelves, the strange whispering echoing in her ears that accompanied any discovery of the strange skulls in the countryside.

What she saw before her were those exact skulls. Dozens of them lining the walls, a few piled along the ground. A bundle of cracked and shattered skulls lay in the corner, abandoned in their lack of usefulness. A shiver ran down her spine, stuck in the doorway a moment longer before she dared to reach out. Her fingertips grazed across the nearby skull, snapping her fingers back quickly at a tingle that slithered down her hand upon contact.

Vincent wasn’t far, his own eyes gazing warily at the skulls before him. “Magic,” he muttered, their gazes meeting for a brief moment; Roz nodded in agreement, struggling to take another full breath as she turned.

“You’re right,” It was Rolfe, however, who found the answer, papers held firmly in his grip. “What do they mean by ‘tranquil’ in these papers?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Roz was dizzy, her stomach coiled and knotted, nausea rising up hard and fast along with horror and grief hot in pursuit. “No,” She whispered, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch the nearest skull. “Oh no, no, no, no.” Faces of those she had known flashed before her eyes, the unspeakable horror of this acting as a sinking pit in her stomach.

“Rosalind?” Vincent had a hand on her elbow as she swayed a moment. His touch was warm, grounding a moment as she turned to him, her mouth opening to try and find her words.

“Poor sods,” Varric murmured.

“Not like the Tranquil were doing much with ‘em.” Bull’s comment cut through the air and Roz felt all the breath leave her lungs with a sharp hiss. The grief, the sorrow, the anguish all burned swiftly into anger that she’d felt mounting since they arrived in the region. There was nothing gentle in her as she abruptly pulled away from Vincent and his comforting grasp on her. Instead, she whirled on Iron Bull with a snarl.

“You have no right to say those things,” Roz growled, heat rolling off her in waves. Despite their height difference, she walked to him, one finger against his chest, blue eyes hard as steel. “They were people. Their lives should have been their own. You do not get to judge them.” Her teeth gnashed together as she let out an angry huff, adding, “You are not better than them.”

Still shaking, she continued, “I’d think over my next words carefully, The Iron Bull.”

Tense silence followed and, had she been in a better mood, Roz would have laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it. She was no match in height to him, aware that she barely came up to his chest. But he met her gaze levelly, his own expression hard (and, if she were right, a hint of surprise), neither of them moving from their spot.

“Boss.” He rumbled and the moment broke. Roz pulled away swiftly, turning on her heel.

“I’ve seen enough here. I’m done.” But there were words still unspoken, caught in her throat as she stepped back out into the open air. I don’t want to be here anymore.

For the first time in a long while, Roz let herself slump by the fire, the weight of the world pressing hard against her shoulders. Guilt and grief were warring internally as she wrapped her blanket tighter around her body. It didn’t fit all the way, made for a slim cot and not a plush body, but there was still something comforting in the act itself. As though she could make a cocoon of it, keeping the world at bay a moment longer instead of letting the chaos and the anger eat her from the inside out.

Exhaustion was a constant companion but sleep hadn’t come. Instead, Roz had pulled herself from her cot, slipping to sit by the fire. The sounds of Lake Luthias were almost comforting, the waterfall and chirping of crickets making the world seem a little softer and perhaps more peaceful than it felt in her mind.

Every single one of the skulls they had come across, each ocularum, was from a tranquil that had been killed. The thought made her sick, her stomach continuing to knot and roil in her gut. How many of them had they seen? How many had been lost when the Circles fell? Was he-

It was the one question she didn’t want to answer, squeezing her eyes shut to will the thought away. Spots blinked before her vision when she opened them again, disoriented for a brief moment. Any answer to her own lingering doubts would only add more guilt to her already troubled mind; no answer was better than the alternatives that were far more likely than the idea that he may have survived it all.

“May I join you?” Vincent’s voice murmured quietly from her side, causing Roz to jump. The blanket slipped a bit from her shoulders as she attempted to wrap it closer around her body again.

“If you like.” Running a hand across her face, letting the blanket slip again, she frowned into the fire. “I’m afraid you’re not seeing me on my best day,” Roz sighed apologetically, unable to lift her gaze from the fire. Everything felt like a constant fight the last few weeks, growing more and more apparent the last few days as the time to make a choice loomed ever closer on the horizon.

“You’re allowed to have feelings about it all, Roz,” Vincent reached out, a hand gently resting upon hers, “you’re only human.” The contact was brief, but she felt it again: a soft shiver rolled down her spine, but this was a pleasant sensation, as though stepping into a warm bath. It was gone as quickly as it came, her own expression confused before she shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s what they want from me.”

“Aye, but what do you want? It can’t just be about them and their needs. You’re the one they call Herald and you have more power than you think you have.”

Roz snorted, a ghost of a smile tracing her lips. “Don’t tell them that. I think the idea of a mage in power scares them, even if they don’t admit to it aloud.” She twisted, reaching for the blanket edge that kept slipping. Vincent reached for it instead, lifting it to her shoulder. The action paused in his hands, a frown shifting his features.

“They have you sleep with these scratchy things?” He questioned, experimentally rubbing the fabric between his fingers in obvious distaste. “How can you get comfortable with this scratchin’ and itchin’ at you all night long?”

“I’m certain they’re made to be more utilitarian than comfortable,” Roz commented dryly. “Honestly, I think the fact that we even have supplies really shows just how far we’ve- wait, where are you going?” Right in the middle of her sentence, Vincent stood abruptly. She watched with a strange curiosity as he moved away from the fire, all but stalking back towards the tent he had set up with Rolfe earlier in their evening.

Vanishing into his tent, he reappeared looking a little ruffled in the firelight, carrying something she couldn’t discern in his hands. “Here, this should be better.” He was careful with his movements, gently placing a sleek, soft pelt across her shoulders. Not before, he course, he helped pull the other blanket off of her.

“Oh.” Roz felt a sigh bubble up from her lips, marveling at the softness and the warmth that encompassed her effortlessly. “Maker, this is lovely.” She paused, adding softly, “Thank you. You didn’t have to-”

“Aye, I didn’t, but I wanted to.”

It was the earnestness that caught her off-guard; cynicism followed her every step when it came to anyone getting closer with her. The members of the Inquisition she was learning to trust, but part of her always wondered how much they wanted from her.

Roz pressed her cheek against the softness of the fur, closing her eyes again. “Still, thank you.”

The silence was interrupted only by the flowing water and crackling fire. Then, so softly, Vincent asked the question that had Roz’s stomach coiled in knots once again. “What does it mean to be made Tranquil?”

She didn’t speak for a few, long moments, eyes opened again as she stared into the fire. Her frown deepened as she tried to think of a way to explain it easily, but she knew there was no easy way to do that.

“If a mage is a danger to themselves or others, Templars have the choice to use the Rite of Tranquility upon them,” Roz murmured, bitterness lacing her words as she lifted her gaze from the fire, meeting his. “It means they are cut-off from the Fade. They become shells of themselves: docile, able to enchant, but unable to be who they once were.” She swallowed hard, adding softly, “Not all who are made Tranquil are dangerous. I’ve seen it used as punishment as well.”

“So those skulls belonged to-”

“Mages who had been made Tranquil, yes.” Roz paused, her face screwed up in an attempt not to weep at the fresh onslaught of emotion that welled up in her throat. It was a wound that she didn’t know would heal, a scar that kept opening every time she thought it was closed.

Vincent met the statement with horrified silence, his own expression darkening in the glow of the fire. He muttered what Roz could only assume was a curse in his native tongue. “To be cut-off from your true self,” he muttered, “must certainly be a fate worse than death.”

“Yes,” Roz murmured, her voice thick as she pulled the pelt tighter around her shoulders, “it is. And to see them and know that they’re not truly there, all of their light just…gone.” She swallowed hard again, letting out a shaky breath.

“You’ve known those made Tranquil.” Another statement of fact came gently from his lips and Roz swore she could feel his gaze on her as she stared directly into the fire.

“Yes,” She whispered, blinking back tears unsuccessfully. “Some I didn’t know very well, but others…” She trailed off a moment, brushing a hand across her cheek with a sniffle. “Someone I loved was made Tranquil.” It was the one story she had never truly told amongst her new companions, uncertain how to even begin. But Vincent reached out, tentatively, his hand resting over hers.

“You don’t have to tell me,” He reassured her gently, “if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Roz gave him a watery smile, “but I think I want to.” The truth was a hard burden to bear alone and, even though she knew this changed nothing of what had happened, there was a small part that needed to simply speak the words into existence.

“His name was Alderis, and I loved him desperately.” And so she spoke, weaving the story in soft tones about her mentor who had turned into her dear friend and then lover. How smart he had been, how passionate about their freedoms, how kind he had been to her and others.

“He wanted our freedom as much as anyone in the Circle,” Roz confided, “and perhaps not all of his methods would have been viewed upon with kindness from the Chantry.” Blood magic never was, but that was part of her story that she kept tucked away. “Suspicions were flying and everyone was tense in the Circle in the weeks leading up to it. In the end, I think it was easiest to make Alderis an example, if not to stop him from preaching of just what we might gain from autonomy and life outside the Circle.”

Those last moments Roz knew she’d never forget. The classroom where they were working with a few of the newly Harrowed students before the door was shoved open. Alderis had been smiling a moment before they grabbed him, the Templars showing no mercy as Roz surged forwards. She’d been stopped and charges were laid at their feet.

“I don’t know why I was spared yet he was not.” Her voice dropped so softly, shaking her head as a few errant tears slipped down her cheeks. “None of it made sense.” She had her suspicions that her mentor, Lydia, had kept her from the same fate, but that had meant little when faced with the results of the rite done on Alderis. Blank eyes, a monotone voice and the mark on his forehead for everyone to see.

Taking up his mantle in the search for their freedoms had seemed easy comparably. Her grief had turned to rage and resolution in the face of rebellion.

“I heard few survived the uprising at Ostwick. I don’t know if he or the others found their way out.” Roz had planted the seeds, pulled away to the Conclave when her friends and comrades in arms rose up against the Templars. The story had been spun to sound peaceful, as though a compromise had been sought by both sides. It was an effort to keep the peace; Roz knew the truth, though, clutching tight the hope that her students and friends had made their way from that place in one piece.

His hand squeezed hers, fingers gently lacing between hers to hold tightly to her. “That sounds like it’s been a heavy burden to carry, Rosalind.” And that was the truth, murmured to her by the campfire, thousands of miles from the only place she had known as home. She let out a sharp, soft laugh, bitter and sorrowful as she sniffed hard again against more tears.

“Sometimes I prefer to think he died that day when they cut him from the fade,” Roz admitted, her features twisted again in grief as she continued in a broken whisper, “It was kinder to me, as selfish as it sounds. I’d rather remember him with life and passion. I can cherish his memory of what was rather than what they made him.”

“If you found him tomorrow, would you still care for him the same way as before?” He asked her and the question had her pause, deep in thought as she stared at the fire.

“I don’t know. Maybe? Or maybe not?” There were too many factors at place in her mind, wondering exactly how she might react to finding him again after all that had happened. “In the end, I feel he was a dear friend to me, a companion to share ideas with. If he were alive, if I found him, I would want to make sure he was safe and cared for, not left to the whims of the world and those who would exploit him.” She swallowed hard, adding softly, “I’d owe him that much.”

Alderis had given her hope, a spark that had grown into a fire that burned inside her. There would always be an ache for what could have been or what she could have done, but nothing could change that. And, while she wouldn’t say it aloud, Roz had long since come to peace that nothing could sway her from the path she walked now. She had been willing to die for the rebellion, yet she had been offered the chance to live and see parts of it some to fruition.

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was a start.

They sat in quiet, his hand still intertwined with hers. His thumb rubbed soft, soothing circles along the back of her hand, a gentle comfort that left her with feelings she couldn’t quite put to words. And maybe now wasn’t the time to do it, not with her emotions raw as they were.

There was relief in having shared though, a wave of it washing over her with a suddenness. There were tears again as she leaned against Vincent’s shoulder, her cheek pressed against him, but there was no sorrow in them this time. His hand slipped free and Roz nearly pulled back, afraid she’d overstepped, but instead he tucked her close, an arm resting gently at her shoulder.

“Thank you for listening,” Roz murmured thickly against his shirt.

“Of course, Rosalind,” He whispered against the crown of her head, “of course.”

Roz didn’t remember going back to bed, but she woke with the pelt still tucked gently around her. She pressed her nose against it, breathing it in, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. The sounds of the camp waking up and the scent of rashers being cooked on the fire were enough to draw her from the tent at last. An idea had struck her late in the night that wouldn’t leave her alone, swiftly rubbing the last winks of sleep from her eyes as she exited her tent.

“Iron Bull,” Roz called, arms wrapped tightly around herself, “can you come with me?”

They walked in slightly awkward silence; it wasn’t a long trek back to the ledge, but the moment seemed to linger on and on. Roz knew she didn’t want to apologize for getting mad, but she didn’t want to leave things as they were. Instead, she had a different idea.

The skull sat upon the strangely carved pedestal at the edge, the faint whisperings of magic brushing against her ears.

“What do you need, Boss?”

Roz tilted her head a moment, gesturing to the skull. “I need you to help me get this unstuck.” She blew a strand of hair from her face, adding quietly, “I don’t think I’m strong enough physically to get it to move without a little help.” When she used them, they only rotated so far and never had she been able to shift and adjust it. With her smaller hands to pry it a bit and Bull’s strength, she assumed they might make a go of it.

The request seemed to surprise Bull, who raised a brow and then nodded. “Sure.”

As she had predicted, the effort took both pairs of hands to remove it. Roz whispered some ice magic into her fingertips, turning the base brittle in an attempt to get it off without completely shattering the skull. There was a small crunch before Bull had it in his hands, finally, after a few minutes of their work.

Bull held the skull aloft a moment, the light filtering through it a moment, magic slowly dissipating from it once it had been removed from its place. Only when it dulled again did he hold it to her, letting her gently lift the skull from his palms. Roz wished she knew how to describe how she felt to him, the hurt that came with the discovery, the pain at knowing that she may have known these people. She swallowed hard though, cradling it close to her.

“You told me about Seheron,” she began softly, meeting his gaze with misty eyes, “and the people you lost. Know the pain that you felt, the kind that led you to the Re-educators, is the same pain I’m feeling right now. I wish I didn’t know this, but I do and I have to live with it.” There was no turning back from this new information, no pretending it didn’t exist or changing how they discovered the cabin. Now she knew and she could try to do something good with it.

“I get it, Boss,” Bull rubbed the back of his shaved head. But even the spy didn’t have the right words to truly encompass everything Roz was feeling or to untangle the complications that surrounded her heart in that moment.

“What’s done is done,” Roz intoned gently, “and now we can move forward.” She gazed back out to the expanse of the land that stretched out before them from the spot. “I don’t want their deaths to be in vain. We continue to pull the shards from the field, but after we’ve marked their locations we take the skulls and give them a proper burial. They deserve that.” She didn’t know how or where, but they would be laid to rest.

Bull had a hand resting between her shoulder blades, a weight that pulled her from the depths of her emotions. There was a moment, soft and quiet as she smiled at him sadly. “Some of our brightest were made this way. I hope something like this doesn’t have to happen again. I hope to change it.” Perhaps the pair of them would never see eye-to-eye, but an understanding passed between them as she walked back into the camp, finding a spot for the skull and a map marked with the locations of the others in the region.

“I’ll only be a few moments,” Roz argued with Cassandra as the pair of them trekked up the sloping incline to the top of the lake, “I don’t need an escort to gather spindleweed and blood lotus.” They’d be leaving the region soon enough and Roz already knew the Adan would appreciate more stocks to add to his stores back in Haven. She had her own concoctions to test out, but first she needed ingredients to work with beyond what they’d already gathered.

“It’s no trouble,” Cassandra followed dutifully behind Roz as they crested the hill. The banks of the lake were teeming with plant life and Roz was careful each time she stepped further to the water’s edge to gather what she needed.

Lost in her own thoughts, Roz hummed gently to herself as she plucked and picked and moved closer to the edge of the waterfall. Their camp was well within sight and there was a soft swell of encouragement to see most of their party relaxing in the late morning sunlight.  And then her gaze drifted to the lake below.

“Oh.” Nearly dropping her satchel, Roz felt all the breathe leave her lungs, eyes wide as she caught sight of the brothers below. The mist and water kept much shrouded from her eyes, but there was quite a lot for her to see. And, Maker, it was a sight that she couldn’t help but drink in.

Both brothers, swimming and splashing in the lake below. Completely and utterly naked.

“Roz, what have you-” Cassandra began but Roz grabbed the Seeker’s arm to tug her down and out of sight before they could be spotted in their peeking.

“Shh!” Roz jerked her head down, unable to stop the rising heat in her cheeks as she glanced back down at the bare forms of Vincent and Rolfe in the water.

To her surprise, Roz caught Cassandra blushing when she realized exactly what they were watching. “Oh!”

“Yes.” Roz let out a slow, shaky breath, her eyes tracing the whorls and tattoos that decorated Vincent’s chest and shoulder. She had seen some peeking out from under his clothing, but nothing with quite so much detail as she saw in the moment. Water dripped down Vincent’s shoulders, flexing and stretching as he swam away from Rolfe’s splashing. It was innocent, playful as the brothers sent water flying at one another, Rolfe’s baritone laugh and an undignified squawk from Vincent when he was dunked under.

She swore softly, swallowing hard. “I…Andraste’s frilly knickers, we shouldn’t be doing this, should we?”

“Probably not,” Cassandra muttered, though she made no move to leave just then. Despite her own apparent indifference towards Rolfe when they were together, the Seeker was very quiet now, her eyes fixed on Rolfe below. Roz glanced to Cassandra and then back down to the lake below.

There wasn’t any harm in this. It wasn’t like they planned to do it again. She cleared her throat, settling down, allowing herself a few moments longer to enjoy the view and the wild workings of her imagination. Cassandra broke the silence with a gruff murmur.

“We’ll never speak of this to anyone.”

“You have my word.”

[ins-sertraline]

[Genzo] As someone heads home this windy, snowy night.

*The original text is Chinese.

My English writen is ……just mess（……）。sorry

Thank you.

***

"God says to man "I hurt you, because I can heal you; I love you, so I punish you. " *

***

A pair of larks fell from the bronze elephant in front of the sanctuary, and the little figure was drawn into a line in the rosy rosy clouds, casting itself upon the woven tapestry of the incantation。

The calm atmosphere spread over the mountain peaks, along the outline of the Rock on the mountaintop to let everyone's mind be gentle. Time seems to change the speed of flow in the thin air on the top of the Nepalese mountains, slowing down everything around it. But winter's short day was cut by the black riddermark in the sky, and with her rose-colored clouds she took away her grey-black Mantle, and trod through the snow-white of the snow-capped mountains, and finally crumbled into the stars.

As the bells began to ring back to the monks at the temple path, Genji leaned his arms against the bottom of the Veranda, picking his own faceamor and watching the monks come out. Although most of the way in and out of the room were ONI, the metallic footsteps they made seemed to be in some kind of rhythm without any confusion.

Once upon a time, he thought. He was usually on the alert, and must have kept his hands on his knife, as if he were escorting them.

"One, two, have a nice day, sweet dreams -- " Genji nodded to the monks he knew, relaxed his posture, smiled and waved. "See you tomorrow, " he whispered to the last monk who stepped out of the door, and at last breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head and put his facearmor back on. Genji felt as if he had grown accustomed to the transcendent atmosphere of the top of the hill, even if it was just a break between assignments, the respite he could take would be enough to rejuvenate him.

But there may be another reason for him to relax, and this year he has brought in an unplanned visitor, compared to one person's walk over the past year. Dusk was the time of the weary birds, but he had not seen the visitor's trail all day.

The first snow of this winter fell to the ground, and there was only an inch above the eaves. Genji looked up at a few of the snow that was falling, as if there were a rest of the birds to leave before falling down.

Fortunately, the “bird” left with a hint of plumage. Genji narrowed his eyes, and the“ bird's feather” fell in the shadow of his eyes, but it was a beautiful cluster of sea-cloud bands.

"Ah, you must be so scrupulous, Hanzo. " The Ninja shrugged, and a wandering heart was settled. "It's a sad time to be on the roof, " he said, even though he was still complaining, Genji was quick to act.

The night had come, and whether or not his guests were patient enough to accept it, he was now determined to provide some service.

***

"I brought some sake, which you may not like, but it's much better when it's warm. "

At the end of the stone steps, Genji's right hand was raised at the man who was leaning against the stone carvings,the same metal pot, which was making a muffled noise.

"... ."The answer to the Ninja was indeed silence and the thud of the bow.

"Ah, take it easy... " Genji sensed that the other side was hesitating, probably because he was not yet in the shadow—— half of his figure. "Did I say hot sake? " The Ninja hid under his forehead, his hairy eyebrows trembled, and he work out the shadow, and the blast furnace he held in his hand. "I've got the sake and blast furnace, brother. Remember the Moonshine old day? "

"I’ll try. " The silent hunter nodded coldly, straightening up and patting the falling snow on his shoulder, Hanzo taking off his bow and Arrow, and coming up to Ninja, patiently waiting for Genji to step up the steps and bend over to receive the sblast furnace. "It's not a fun place to sit around ，bue have a drink to warm up, will be joyful." Hanzo said

The Sky remained large clouds after the snow stopped, and the black robes of the night were torn by the stars and the Moon, made the clear light was squeezed through the cracks of the broken clouds, turning the arc of the firmament as silver sea. Genji sensed that Hanzo's fingertips were cold as he reached out, causing a drop in his sensitive artificial touch along the gentle temperature of the blast furnace.

A stubborn and withdrawn man, and that hasn't changed a bit from the past. His hands, Genji thought, had been whirled into the warmth of his own hand, even with the smallest of calluses on his hands.

"Ah, what did I expect。" GENJI quickly lowered his head and banished the thoughts from his mind, and he laughed as if he were covering something up. "You wait here a little longer, and there is a burning charcoal in the blast furnace, which is just a moment away, " Genji said, looking at Hanzo as he lifted the sblast furnace away from the green fence on the roof, and deftly waved the cup, it's like you don't care if you react like that.

Hanzo was so much like him as he remembered it, but he expected it. Since the guest is keeping his distance, it may mean that Hanzo needs some time to get used to it.

And on the other side of it. Hanzo picked up the blast furnace and put it on the floor with a ceramic sake bottle lying on it. The delicate celadon in a ceramic sake dish is a far-flung object compared with the rough local pottery outside. The Scarlet Koi, painted with water marks on the porcelain pot, appears to be alive into the moonlight.

He opened the porcelain bottle, the highland barley sake with some astringent rustic flavor straight mouth and nose, although not his favorite , but it is also a rare localy sake.

Only then did he discover that Genji had not brought water, and that Hanzo was not confined, and he took Pottery in his hand, and took some snow in the place where the snow lay on stone shadow, and poured them into it until he had determined that there was enough snow and water to place the pots on the top of the blast furnace, the flaps of his fingernails were removed and gently fanned under the blast.

Hanzo squinted at the fiery flames rising from the hearth, and could not help stirring up the corners of his mouth. Alpine vegetations, alienated travelers, fresh sake in the snow,. It is also not to lose the youth of the Hanamura in the years of indulgence, full of a graceful.

As the snow began to melt along the edge of the pots, the water beads clung to the heads of the Koi on the Celadon Pot, gradually turning from pieces of crushed ice and water to water droplets, turning them into tiny pools of water, red Fish Swim in a smoky aroma, softening the cold winds over the high mountains of Nepal.

"You back, " Hanzo heard someone close behind him, and his footsteps creaked and cracked on the mottled snow. "The snow had just begun to melt, and it would take a while for the sake to warm. "

"I brought the water bag up, but I didn't think my elder brother had found a solution, " Genji said. Raise your hand and throw the water bag to Hanzo. "In the old days, you would have said I couldn't match the snow. "

"Even if it is snow, it will take a while for the water to be used. " Hanzo took over the water bag and sat cross-legged to look after the fire as Genji placed the seat behind him. He glanced at Genji, who was also seated, and drew a sake-glass from the snow-water which had been boiled in the pot,  thrust it to Genji. "If it had been the snow that had been stored, it would have been cold and pure. "

Warm sake in their throat. Hanzo's previously cold fingertips were dipped in warm water, and Genji, sensing the change in temperature during the brief transition, he just relaxed.

"So, are you used to it in Nepal? I was told that most of the time you would go up the hill and only go back to the guest room at night, what attracted your attention? " , so he just tilted his eyes to Hanzo's wrist, and, through a thin layer of mist, the dragon scales of his semi-hidden wrists seemed to follow suit.

"I, I have never been here, so I am doing my best to acquaint myself with the terrain, " said Hanzo, holding the warm sake in his hands. He had been on the roof for too long, and now, with his little blast and his warm sake, he was at least a little relieved and relieved. He had been separated from Genji for so long that he had been on several missions together, and Genji had extended an olive branch to invite him to Nepal, which disturbed him, for he still had a heavy sense of shame and guilt in his heart.

And the question about Genji. Hanzo thought that he had accepted an offer to come to Nepal, which led him to try to get to know the life of Genji, and that he would not stay in a Zen temple or a guest house, as most visitors do, but instead did his best as a mercenary, to conceal his whereabouts, or to look at Genji close or far. In the early morning, he stepped on the sun to see Genji into the temple, cleaned the knife-holder for him at the end of the day and left, and at nightfall -- probably the same bird as Genji had glimpsed -- and disappeared into the night.

Hanzo raised his head and looked at the moon with open eyes, and he felt insignificant under the constancy of the stars.

"It's peaceful here, " Genji asked, taking a deep breath and making up his mind to raise his head and smile . "Calm, peaceful, like the Cherry tree top ，that you were took me on the shimada castle, when I was three years old, and I saw for the first time the whole picture of Shimada castle, it was such a magnificent and serious atmosphere. "

The man I am looking for is like the moon in my heart, and he is in the same coordinates as me, bathed in the same moonlight.

Hanzo's figure was completely imprinted in his pupils, no longer separated by the cold surface of the facearmor, Genji carefully scrutinizes the Hanzo's every detail, whether it is the stain of the other side's sideburns, or gradually appear the mature eye horn fine lines, it was all in the moonlight, and it was driving him thoughts.

I love and my first half of the life of the brotherhood, but at this time he just looking at the moon into sky,not aware of my mind.

At Genji's eye, he caught a glimpse of the slack of Hanzo‘s hair behind the half-body, and down the broad ridge of the other, and the Golden Satin was illuminated by the fire, and he could not help reaching out his hand along the blue stone fence, cross the snow mark and the weathered carving to touch the edge of the headband with the tips of your fingers. For the first time, Genji felt that he was so close to Hanzo and alienated as if he were across the galaxy .

"I remember that time... " the Pale red colour of the sake-drinking rose from the face of Hanzo, and Genji's words touched his soft heart and made him bury his face in the sake and smile. "You'll hold on to my clothes, and you won't know what to say, just squawking, "big brother, big brother -- "

At this point, the archers suddenly shivered and drank the remaining half of the sake which had been cooled by the north wind.

"... I also want to hear you say a little more..."Genji murmured, lifting the jug to refill the half-hidden bottle. "It's been a long, long time since we've talked like this. "

The Silver Moon in the sky is immortal and bright, but the legend associated with it is accompanied by loneliness and cold. Genji pulled out the thin blanket that had been under his knees, and pulled a small bag from the folded outline. He carefully unwrapped the straw rope above his head, unwrapping the paper bag and dipping the contents in the half-hidden sake. "I've been to the Hanamura a few times before, when you didn't know it，but as you know, I once hid a box under the tree where you carried me, and I had a golden Plated brush in it, and my MaskedRider toy,also all the other weird little things... "

Genji smiled and turned his wrist and poured the powder from the paper bag into the bottle.

"The contents of one of the boxes increased until I was fourteen years old, and I added a comb that you had used. It sounded strange... " he shook his head. "I don't know why I took your stuff, but I'm sure it was the last time I put something in it. But now that I think about it, Legend has tell， it that there are bodies hidden under the cherry trees, and perhaps I also have hidden my fate in it at that time,"Genji's voice is less clear than before, even with a dry metallic hum, you can still hear the faint sense of regret. "So when I go back, I always take some of the petals, dry them and crush them, When I drink，I used put them in sake， when I miss my hometown. "

Gradually the snow was boiling, and the warm smell of sake mingled with a slight astringent smell, is the taste of Cherry blossom. The beauty of the Nepalese landscape mingled with the fragrance of the garden, causing inexpressibly; indescribably's sense of weightlessness to be worrying for a while.

"I don't know, after that, that, after. " Hanzo had lost sight of the warm sake in the sake, the pink-brown petals of which floated in the sake, and a small moon broke up in his glass, and stuck it in his eye so he couldn't read it. "after that, I had people take care of everything, about you, about us, for all the years we had spent together, we, we, were born as brothers in a courtyard like that, growing up as brothers, Genji, you're like a gift from heaven, my mother told me, making me believe it, too. " , hurried as if the beating of his heart in his chest popped into his throat and stuck in his throat. "I can't accept that after that, we, who no longer exist, what I did, I killed my brothers with my own hands, even though we weren't close for a while, but every time I think about the years I spent with you, Genji... those years that drove me crazy, the years that we had. "

Hanzo had unconsciously laid his hands on his knees, his hands hanging down, a pair of vain hands as if in the past in the hands of blood, noiselessly whipped him to drive him back to the nightmare of theHanamura.

"And all those years that we lost, Genji, I couldn't imagine, " said Hanzo, licking his dry lips as he gently blew a strand of his hair down his cheek as he fluttered his head, with his thumb and forefinger pressed against his forehead to open the small wrinkles above, it is his living proof and evidence, he can not escape in any way. "I can not, and will never, ever imagine. "

The Archer did not raise his head, but repeatedly touched the corners of his eyes in the shadow with his fingers, and the folds of the fish's tail extended his years, and he did not want to let the tears fill it up, the world for him once a wilderness, there's nothing left to fill him with.

"brother... " Hanzo suddenly indulged to let Genji be unprepared, out of instinct he has also unconsciously risen.

"At times like these, Genji, I always question myself. If you were alive and away from me in the company of someone who was not me, what dreams would you have, and whether you would still have love someone perfectly and satisfactory -- "

The Voice of Hanzo was astringent, and he shielded Genji's shoulder with his wrist, curling back and covering his entire face with his palms. It's like the cover-up he made of Genji's face when he was a kid. Genji, however, He also is no longer the dashing young man.

"But, but I. . . If that one wasn't me, that couldn't have been me. What would I have done, and could I…might blessing you with peace and serenity? " , with a heavy sense of powerlessness, fell in Genji's ear to let the latter lose a moment of strength.

What to do about it? Genji felt a voice echoing in his head, and over and over as if he were young, standing on the top of Hanamura's attic, screaming.

"Look at me and tell me what you miss, and make me believe that even death can not stop me from believing in you, even though I am on the brink of death and touch the cycle, my soul is still yearning for your love and hate. So look at me. "

The voice in his heart was so loud that it had not changed in all these years, with his strong heart beating.

The wet lips of the sake were thick and soft, and Genji closed his eyes at the moment of the lip transition. He feared the appearance of weakness, because in his memory, even in Hanzo and his last face, the elder brother was still resolute and abnormal, in the face of the face is still not the slightest retreat and sadness.

Genji uses a kiss to crack open the Hanzo’s lips, and the smell of the Cherry blossoms in his lips has not dissipated, and it is accompanied by the intertwining of the tip of the tongue as a medium to calm one another's emotions.

"What is unimaginable to you, even to me, as heavy like your feeling either. "

Has there ever been an immortal longing? If such a yearning exists, how can I better tell you something other than a nostalgic kiss?

Genji did not know where to prove such a yearning had ever existed, but he knew that if he just let it go, at least until the night was over, he just place Hanzo in great pain. The charcoal fire in the blast furnace was extinguished, and Genji wrapped up Hanzo with the soft open-up in his lap, forcing the man to leave the zenith despite opposition.

***

You will see my scars, know that I have been hurt, and have been healed. *

***

"I have wandered the earth, and what you see now is the dwelling place I found in my wanderings, and I left the island, only to find that my love was irreplaceable, " Genji said, he pressed the Hanzo on a slightly worn mattress and poured out the love words in an adoring tone. At the same time his kiss was slipping down the outline of the half-hidden jaw-tip Mustache until it reached the Adam's apple, touching his brother with the same respect as the language of love.

"respond to me. " Genji lowers his voice and raises his head. The lights in the room are dim and his pupils are slightly dilated, like a round of flowers that do not wither. "I took my knife-holder from hua-cun, a roll of photographs, and my feathers, which seemed to attract me and keep me safe, but it wasn't until just now, brother, that I realized that you were the only one I wanted to stolen away. "

I wanted to compete with a family for his core, and then I wanted to compete with the world for a soul.

GENJI's vision, burning in the eyes of Hanzo, is far brighter than the distant bright moon, let him can't help but hide the line of sight.

I couldn't face him, but I wanted him so badly.

A fleeting thought turns into an impulse, and the mere impulse of the moment can be enough to turn everything upside down. The voice in Hanzo's heart also grasped the gap of momentary doubt, and all his guilt and avoidance began to melt, forcing his body to rise and kiss the source again.

The hunter's robe was stripped of the desire to give, and Hanzo, with his still warm human chest, was open to Genji, who took his opponent by the wrist and pressed his hard but still dexterous fingers to his left breast.

"It will all end when we touch the cycle, Genji, " answered Hanzo,he pushing Genji's wrist down and nudging the metal along the outline of his body. "But now, please touch me, and this is the only way we can get an answer. "

I've peeked into your heart somewhere, and I believe that it belongs to me.

"If that is your answer, I know that nothing has changed, brother. "

* All quotations, Rabindranath Tagore.

[dsmadmin]

#WingBrothers

Written by @Defenderguard & @Dark_Torement

Ethan ~ Where is that brother of mine? Reaper……… It’s been year’s since I’ve heard from him. I hope he’s still alive.

Reaper ~ -chuckles- Did someone miss me? You know, it’s hard to get rid of me. So here I am in all my glory. -smirks-

Ethan ~ “There you are. Missed you. Fuck no but I think I need my wingman around here. What do you think? Are you finished being a pussy and getting back to work? -Chuckles-

Reaper ~ I should be offended by that. *smirks chucking. Cracking his neck, as eyes flash silver.* You know, I’ll always come when ya need me. Pussy? Need I remind you why I’m called Reaper? *grins* Bring on the bitches.

Ethan ~ *He walks over to meet this one.* The last time I saw you. You were busy twinkle those toes of yours all over the place over some chick if I recall. What was her name again? You maybe be Reaper to the other but I think I said your name was #Twinkle to me *He burst out laughing* Your secret is safe with me. But if you want to share by all means go ahead. I could do with a good story from you. Since it’s been a while.” *He walked over to the bar picking up a bottle of JD and two glasses. Settling them on the table as he begins to pour* Do you fancy one?

Reaper ~ *He laughed with a shake of his head.* I’m offended now. *he walked over to his brother and leaned his hips against the wood of the counter. Snorts* Twinkle? I never twinkled a day in long ass life. *smirking he crossed his arms over his wide chest. His brother would be in for rude awakening about him.* I don’t remember that far back. A passing face in the crowd. *It had been many years. And the love of his life. Well..yeah fuck thinking that right now.* You should remember the story. Or is you mind getting to old and you’re losing it? *he arched a brow.* Get to pouring snuggle buns. *he joked.* So what have you been up to all these years? *it had been a long time since they caught up with each other.*

Ethan ~ -He let out a laugh listening to him.- it’s about time you came to visit me twinkle. Yeah, you always twinkle your away across this world. -He picked up a glass and passed it over to his brother- Maybe my head hasn’t been the same for the last few months. Maybe I am losing it, but I know I need to hurt something badly. Do you have anything for me to torture? -picking up his glasses of JD and downed it in one. With the dark liquid going down slowly - Reaper how long do have you got to talk about my life?

Reaper *it had been a long time since he heard his brother laugh. It was nice to hear. Wrapping his inked fingers around the glass. His brows furrowed.* Nah, snuggle buns. I don’t have anything you torture. *knocking back the shot, he chuckled darkly.* But we can find something We are the best of the best. *points at him setting down the glass, and pour more.* I’ve been in one place for years now. Well, we could talk until you got more pissed off. But I can’t do that to you brother. *pushing another shot to him.* That bad huh? You know..I could help with it. *smirks*

Ethan ~ Ethan was happy that his brother Reaper aka Twinkle was here. The fire in is stomach had burned out and had become a softer side for the ones he cared for, Now with Reaper here was lightening the old fire and was ready right now. To return to his old ways. He didn’t need an excuse to go and hurt something. He was born ready. Reaper wasn’t wrong they were unstoppable when they were united.

-Ethan wrapped his large hand around the shot and flew it back-

Come on you going to drink up. I want to hear everything you’ve been up too?. It’s been good and bad in this land, at the same time. I’ve teared up his world many times without a second thought. Then things changed for me when I wanted to help the humans without being the angel I /Was/ when I signed up for the Seals. It helps them with their wars. And I have news Would you believe it I fell hard for someone and changed everything for him?

-Picking the bottle up to refill his glass and throwing back another shot straight away-

I bet you could help with that but it wouldn’t be the right thing to wipe a certain human memory. But I think it would be best to do this for this person to remove his memories of our relationship. To allow them to be happy and have their happy ever after.

*He filled up another shot of JD and took the shot. wiping his mouth*

Reaper ~ *Reaper watched and listened. Pulling up a chair and flipping it around. He straddled it, hands hanging over the back of the chair. He was ready for drinking the night away with his brother. Knocking back the next one he poured them another.

He had seen many sides of his brother. Fuck, they had been through the endless war of good and evil together, for eons. Pushing another full glass to his brother. He was hurting, he could see it. And it seemed for the very same reasons that Reaper hurt years ago. Hell, it still hurt. Loving and caring for someone. He drank deeply.* I’ll tell you, but first. A little heart to heart, ya? *Reaper pulled out a seat for his brother.* Sit. *pointing this shit was going to get deep.* Taking away memories might seem easy. But, as the years go by, bonds are formed. Some run deeper then others. If you or we did this. It would wipe out time in their lives. It could make them go crazy. *Taking a big breath and letting it out.* I’ve been there, thinking that wiping those memories would be best. Make things easier. But then, all those wonderful memories that are there, would be lost too. You see, brother. I fell from heaven for a human. I loved him deeply. I wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with me. But, out of a sense of duty, he picked the mother of his child. I watched over them, he died in my arms. Then I watched over his child. I protected him and her. My point though brother, don’t take that away from them. Those memories mean something. *sliver eyes meeting his, as he looked up from his glass.* I know you’re hurting. I can see it. Coke with me for a time. How ever long it takes. Let yourself heal, through whatever means. And by means I mean, doing what we do best. Since my years here on earth, I’ve lived mostly as a hermit on my mountain, after my stint in the Marines. It healed some part of me. I offer that to you brother. I’ll help you, through this. And don’t fucking tell me you aren’t hurting. Remember I know you. *he poured more and drank more.* Your anger was always a shield for your hurt. What do you say, brother?

Ethan ~ Ethan tan over the next shot and the next without anything happen. This was going to be a long night with his brother with no side effects with the alcohol. The alcohol was just there and was going down very easy. When he came over to his brother and took a sit on the chair. He lay on the arm over the back of the chair and the other hold the large glass of Whisky gulping it down. Putting the glass on the table. He tapped his fingers against the glass. His eyes glowed looking over to Twinkle. Listening to him reaper had gone deep with his heart to heart about his life that I didn’t know. He was sorry that Reaper had to go through this experience of losing a loved one in his arms. * why didn’t you call for me Twinkle? *Getting myself to drown in my demon over a past love. Wasn’t the finest. *Ethan looked down moving his finger to run the rim of the glass. he wanted to wipe his someone mind from everything they shared. Reaper was right that was an easy option. And might eventually make him mad. Deep down Ethan never wanted him to hurt or go mad with his memories wiped. He knew the best thing to do was to have time. He knew what he had to do because twinkle was right. It was time to go back to being the true angel that I am and not this messed up angel.

“Okay twinkle you’re right. I’m not hurting as much as I did get over him, but he has this hold over me when I keep running back. I just don’t know-how to break this bond. That why I wanted his mind wiped. Which isn’t best for us. I need to do something. I just can’t be here and waiting around for a prayer to be called. This country is in safe hands of the hunters. I need to make myself useful and help you, my brother. Let’s return to our old ways and take on wars as we did before.

Reaper ~•How was he going to explain this? Falling in love with a man. Snuggle buns had seen him with women. The human would call him a man whore. But the moment that Reaper saw /him/. That was it, there was no women or other men. That man had claimed his very heart.

Angel reached for the bottle. Pouring another full glass. He wished this shit did something, effected him somehow. Slamming the drink back. Now it was his turn.• I honestly didn’t know how to tell you, brother. I, fuck, •he ran his fingers through his hair.• I didn’t want you to see me different. I dealt with the looks of our brothers and sisters. They looked at me like was fucking shit. •he hated them for that.• I wish I did call you. I wasn’t ashamed of him. I fell from our home to /be/ with him. I was angry and fucked up. I didn’t want you too see that brother.

•he pulled out two cigar’s handing one to snuggle buns. He cut and lit his own, passing the lighter his brother.• Bonds form and they never break. You lean to live with it. It’s hard as fuck. But possible. •meeting his brother’s eyes.•

Some of the best fucking shit I have heard in years. We can head to my mountain. And then we take those evil fuckers by storm. •he smirked•

Ethan ~ Ethan would never judge or betrayed his brother Reaper was his brother in life when they hadn’t seen each other in a year. They were too simpler to each other without even knowing it. Ethan reached over putting his hand on his shoulder. Ethan’s eyes glow to the thought of his brother had gone through this on his own. Now Ethan wasn’t ever going to let his brother go through such experience never again without him being at his side. When he took the cigar from him. Preparing the cigar cutting the tip-off and lightening it up. Taking a draw from it. When Ethan wanted a list of these jackass pussy feather cocksuckers looking down on his brother.

“ Can you give me names? I don’t care if they are supposed to be our brother and sisters but no one is going to be judging you. As we both have said we can help you we have fallen for in the past. Right now I think we should throw the gauge down to them. Just to remind them who we are and what we stand for?

Ethan took a draw from the cigar and tapping the ash into the ashtray. Letting the cigar sit at the side of the ashtray to pick up the bottle to refill his brother and himself a larger glass.

“sounds like the perfect plan to get moving and do some damaged for sure”

[defenderguard]

#WingBrothers

Written by @Defenderguard & @Dark_Torement

Ethan ~ Where is that brother of mine? Reaper......... It's been year's since I've heard from him. I hope he's still alive.

Reaper ~ -chuckles- Did someone miss me? You know, it’s hard to get rid of me. So here I am in all my glory. -smirks-

Ethan ~ “There you are. Missed you. Fuck no but I think I need my wingman around here. What do you think? Are you finished being a pussy and getting back to work? -Chuckles-

Reaper ~ I should be offended by that. *smirks chucking. Cracking his neck, as eyes flash silver.* You know, I’ll always come when ya need me. Pussy? Need I remind you why I’m called Reaper? *grins* Bring on the bitches.

Ethan ~ *He walks over to meet this one.* The last time I saw you. You were busy twinkle those toes of yours all over the place over some chick if I recall. What was her name again? You maybe be Reaper to the other but I think I said your name was #Twinkle to me *He burst out laughing* Your secret is safe with me. But if you want to share by all means go ahead. I could do with a good story from you. Since it's been a while.” *He walked over to the bar picking up a bottle of JD and two glasses. Settling them on the table as he begins to pour* Do you fancy one?

Reaper ~ *He laughed with a shake of his head.* I’m offended now. *he walked over to his brother and leaned his hips against the wood of the counter. Snorts* Twinkle? I never twinkled a day in long ass life. *smirking he crossed his arms over his wide chest. His brother would be in for rude awakening about him.* I don’t remember that far back. A passing face in the crowd. *It had been many years. And the love of his life. Well..yeah fuck thinking that right now.* You should remember the story. Or is you mind getting to old and you’re losing it? *he arched a brow.* Get to pouring snuggle buns. *he joked.* So what have you been up to all these years? *it had been a long time since they caught up with each other.*

Ethan ~ -He let out a laugh listening to him.- it's about time you came to visit me twinkle. Yeah, you always twinkle your away across this world. -He picked up a glass and passed it over to his brother- Maybe my head hasn't been the same for the last few months. Maybe I am losing it, but I know I need to hurt something badly. Do you have anything for me to torture? -picking up his glasses of JD and downed it in one. With the dark liquid going down slowly - Reaper how long do have you got to talk about my life?

Reaper *it had been a long time since he heard his brother laugh. It was nice to hear. Wrapping his inked fingers around the glass. His brows furrowed.* Nah, snuggle buns. I don’t have anything you torture. *knocking back the shot, he chuckled darkly.* But we can find something We are the best of the best. *points at him setting down the glass, and pour more.* I’ve been in one place for years now. Well, we could talk until you got more pissed off. But I can’t do that to you brother. *pushing another shot to him.* That bad huh? You know..I could help with it. *smirks*

Ethan ~ Ethan was happy that his brother Reaper aka Twinkle was here. The fire in is stomach had burned out and had become a softer side for the ones he cared for, Now with Reaper here was lightening the old fire and was ready right now. To return to his old ways. He didn't need an excuse to go and hurt something. He was born ready. Reaper wasn't wrong they were unstoppable when they were united.

-Ethan wrapped his large hand around the shot and flew it back-

Come on you going to drink up. I want to hear everything you've been up too?. It's been good and bad in this land, at the same time. I've teared up his world many times without a second thought. Then things changed for me when I wanted to help the humans without being the angel I /Was/ when I signed up for the Seals. It helps them with their wars. And I have news Would you believe it I fell hard for someone and changed everything for him?

-Picking the bottle up to refill his glass and throwing back another shot straight away-

I bet you could help with that but it wouldn't be the right thing to wipe a certain human memory. But I think it would be best to do this for this person to remove his memories of our relationship. To allow them to be happy and have their happy ever after.

*He filled up another shot of JD and took the shot. wiping his mouth*

Reaper ~ *Reaper watched and listened. Pulling up a chair and flipping it around. He straddled it, hands hanging over the back of the chair. He was ready for drinking the night away with his brother. Knocking back the next one he poured them another.

He had seen many sides of his brother. Fuck, they had been through the endless war of good and evil together, for eons. Pushing another full glass to his brother. He was hurting, he could see it. And it seemed for the very same reasons that Reaper hurt years ago. Hell, it still hurt. Loving and caring for someone. He drank deeply.* I’ll tell you, but first. A little heart to heart, ya? *Reaper pulled out a seat for his brother.* Sit. *pointing this shit was going to get deep.* Taking away memories might seem easy. But, as the years go by, bonds are formed. Some run deeper then others. If you or we did this. It would wipe out time in their lives. It could make them go crazy. *Taking a big breath and letting it out.* I’ve been there, thinking that wiping those memories would be best. Make things easier. But then, all those wonderful memories that are there, would be lost too. You see, brother. I fell from heaven for a human. I loved him deeply. I wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with me. But, out of a sense of duty, he picked the mother of his child. I watched over them, he died in my arms. Then I watched over his child. I protected him and her. My point though brother, don’t take that away from them. Those memories mean something. *sliver eyes meeting his, as he looked up from his glass.* I know you’re hurting. I can see it. Coke with me for a time. How ever long it takes. Let yourself heal, through whatever means. And by means I mean, doing what we do best. Since my years here on earth, I’ve lived mostly as a hermit on my mountain, after my stint in the Marines. It healed some part of me. I offer that to you brother. I’ll help you, through this. And don’t fucking tell me you aren’t hurting. Remember I know you. *he poured more and drank more.* Your anger was always a shield for your hurt. What do you say, brother?

Ethan ~ Ethan tan over the next shot and the next without anything happen. This was going to be a long night with his brother with no side effects with the alcohol. The alcohol was just there and was going down very easy. When he came over to his brother and took a sit on the chair. He lay on the arm over the back of the chair and the other hold the large glass of Whisky gulping it down. Putting the glass on the table. He tapped his fingers against the glass. His eyes glowed looking over to Twinkle. Listening to him reaper had gone deep with his heart to heart about his life that I didn't know. He was sorry that Reaper had to go through this experience of losing a loved one in his arms. * why didn't you call for me Twinkle? *Getting myself to drown in my demon over a past love. Wasn't the finest. *Ethan looked down moving his finger to run the rim of the glass. he wanted to wipe his someone mind from everything they shared. Reaper was right that was an easy option. And might eventually make him mad. Deep down Ethan never wanted him to hurt or go mad with his memories wiped. He knew the best thing to do was to have time. He knew what he had to do because twinkle was right. It was time to go back to being the true angel that I am and not this messed up angel.

“Okay twinkle you're right. I'm not hurting as much as I did get over him, but he has this hold over me when I keep running back. I just don't know-how to break this bond. That why I wanted his mind wiped. Which isn't best for us. I need to do something. I just can't be here and waiting around for a prayer to be called. This country is in safe hands of the hunters. I need to make myself useful and help you, my brother. Let's return to our old ways and take on wars as we did before.

Reaper ~•How was he going to explain this? Falling in love with a man. Snuggle buns had seen him with women. The human would call him a man whore. But the moment that Reaper saw /him/. That was it, there was no women or other men. That man had claimed his very heart.

Angel reached for the bottle. Pouring another full glass. He wished this shit did something, effected him somehow. Slamming the drink back. Now it was his turn.• I honestly didn’t know how to tell you, brother. I, fuck, •he ran his fingers through his hair.• I didn’t want you to see me different. I dealt with the looks of our brothers and sisters. They looked at me like was fucking shit. •he hated them for that.• I wish I did call you. I wasn’t ashamed of him. I fell from our home to /be/ with him. I was angry and fucked up. I didn’t want you too see that brother.

•he pulled out two cigar’s handing one to snuggle buns. He cut and lit his own, passing the lighter his brother.• Bonds form and they never break. You lean to live with it. It’s hard as fuck. But possible. •meeting his brother’s eyes.•

Some of the best fucking shit I have heard in years. We can head to my mountain. And then we take those evil fuckers by storm. •he smirked•

Ethan ~ Ethan would never judge or betrayed his brother Reaper was his brother in life when they hadn't seen each other in a year. They were too simpler to each other without even knowing it. Ethan reached over putting his hand on his shoulder. Ethan's eyes glow to the thought of his brother had gone through this on his own. Now Ethan wasn't ever going to let his brother go through such experience never again without him being at his side. When he took the cigar from him. Preparing the cigar cutting the tip-off and lightening it up. Taking a draw from it. When Ethan wanted a list of these jackass pussy feather cocksuckers looking down on his brother.

“ Can you give me names? I don't care if they are supposed to be our brother and sisters but no one is going to be judging you. As we both have said we can help you we have fallen for in the past. Right now I think we should throw the gauge down to them. Just to remind them who we are and what we stand for?

Ethan took a draw from the cigar and tapping the ash into the ashtray. Letting the cigar sit at the side of the ashtray to pick up the bottle to refill his brother and himself a larger glass.

“sounds like the perfect plan to get moving and do some damaged for sure”

[wonderlandinrope]

Not All Monsters Part 8

Sam X Reader

Summary: After running into an old friend brothers Sam and Dean catch another case. While on the hunt becomes clear that the friend they left behind isn’t the same person anymore.

Warning: Violence, cussing

Hope you enjoy. This one is a little shorter than usual. 

Part 8

Settling in at the bar, Aris couldn’t help but get the lookout of Deans face out of her head when he had reappeared from his short walk earlier that day. She was halfway up the cliff when he came out of the woods so she couldn’t be sure that she had seen it correctly. It was the same look she’d seen on his face when fought the vampires a year ago. Sam was also on edge when they began their trek back to vehicles. It was obvious they were trying to distance themselves from the group. They had gone from overjoyed to see Aris to trying to get her to move on to her next adventure sooner rather than later.

Jill interrupted Aris thoughts waving her hand and a drink in front of her. “Earth to Aris? Girl you ok?”

“Huh?” Aris looked at the group sitting in front of her.

“Where to next? George wants to start planning the route. Maybe we could hit up rocky mountains next.” Chloe smiled looking forward to the adventure.

Aris frowned her head spinning with memories both pleasant and excruciating. The smell of alcohol still triggering her when things got bad. It was unlikely to ever go away, she had seen a therapist the first few months that she’d stayed with her sister but it never seemed to help. It was too intrusive, instead, she joined a women's support group for abuse victims. It was more supportive, made her feel less like a victim, and gave her the strength to keep going. It was where she got the idea to travel.

“I can’t do this right now guys.” Closing her eyes tight she pinched the bridge of her nose choosing to walk away. “Going to clear my head.”

The girls shrugged, by now they were used to her going off on her own with no explanation. Often times only returning in the morning exhausted, before they moved on to the next city or state. George, on the other hand, couldn’t get used to it, he knew what she had been thrown and worried about her more than the others. He took on the role of an overprotective big brother. He caught her just as before she ran out the door.

“Where do you think you're going?” George stood at an angle, partially blocking her way.

“Out.” She shrugged avoiding his gaze, not wanting to give out more information.

Looking down he shook his head, only to try to catch her eyes. “We both know I can’t stop you, but can at least keep your cell on you this time?”

She looked up at him in surprise it was the first time that George hadn’t at least try to put up a fight. She caught the slight grin on his face. Nodding he gave his approval it meant more to her than she thought. Agreeing to do so a weight fell off her shoulder but her heart felt heavy. It was time to lift the weight.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Aris made her way back to the trail she had staked out earlier that day. The moon was full making a flashlight unnecessary, which in turn just lightened her the load she had to carry. Having gotten used to hiking, spending time in the outdoors, she knew how to get in and out without leaving a trace. She had just about made it to the caves when she heard a gunshot, forcing her calm exterior to one of panic. No one else was supposed to be out here, the park was closed it had been since sunset. Taking off toward the shots it no longer mattered if she left a trail if it meant losing another person suffered.

Heart raising, blood pumping through her veins, the adrenaline was her addiction it was the only thing that made her feel normal. Ironically it was the only thing that could bring her back to a time before Sam and Dean, or monsters or even Dan. Just like any addiction when she needed a fix she would find it, it would make her feel normal again for a time being, then as time went on it would wear off. Then the cycle would repeat itself again, get a fix, feel normal, wear off, repeat.

The cliffs were in view now but something was off, there was a flickering light, a smell that was disgusting, but familiar. Slowing slightly, she listened she could hear voices. One was gravelly, the other smooth and deep. Unfortunately, it didn’t surprise her in the least to hear the two brothers, voices, but it did make sense now as to why they were in such a hurry to get her to leave not wanting her to be in the line of fire.

At least George will have peace of mind when she got back early. She thought to herself getting ready to retreat not wanting them to know she was there. A snapped branch moved her from amusement and relief back to adrenaline-filled ready to fight. It happened again this time behind her. Whatever was stalking her just beyond the trees.

“Come on out you coward, I’m ready.” It was a whisper but it was enough to draw the creature out of the trees. A tall lean thing, pale, with long claws and dripping teeth. “Come on big boy I ain’t got all night.”

It was faster than she expected to charge at her just missing the claws by a few inches. Firing a few shots at it let out a shriek as they pieced its skin, but it didn’t slow down charging again this time managing to get ahold of her foot as she tried to jump back. Falling to the ground she hit her chin, the pain was bad but she not enough to keep her down. Pulling a flare and gas bottle from the inside of her pocket as the Wendigo held her above the ground. Using her teeth to open the small pouch of gas squirting it on the creature, then lighting the flare. Tossing it to the creator it went up like a roman candle.  She fell just narrowly avoiding the flames herself. Howling as it burned she knew the sound would draw attention, but at this point, it didn’t matter she had gotten her fix. The image brought a smile to her face.

“Aris?” Sam exclaimed

“What the hell?” Dean said shocked.

Aris still grinning turned her head looking at them over her shoulder. “Nice of you to join the party.”

In the motel room, they sat in stunned silence as Aris spun a tail a year-long about everything she had really been up to the past year. Leaving only out the parts that she knew they wouldn’t understand or they may not have approved of. She told them about feeling lost needing closure, how she didn’t mean to fall into hunting that it only happened by accident. She was hiking alone for the first time after leaving her sisters. The first night a werewolf showed up and tried to take her out but luckily she had been prepared for it.

“So what you just dive in after the first time you kill something on your own?” Dean was pissed. “You could have died out there!”

“No.” Aris waved her hands trying to defend herself.

“Then what? If you were going to hunt why didn’t you call us?” Sam was a little more understanding but still hurt nonetheless.

“I didn’t want to be a burden so I thought it best to stay on my own.” Shrugging it off as if were no big thing. “The only reason I stopped going out on my own was because of George and the girls.”

“So what they hunt too?” Sam asked. “Because they didn’t seem like the type.”

“What? No! They have no idea about what I do. Well, George does I helped him out with a monster a few months back. But that’s not the point I’m doing fine you guys seem to be doing great.” Aris was still avoiding looking them in the eye.

“We are not talking about us right now we are talking about you and how much of an idiot you’ve been!” Dean was raising his voice, his broad shoulders pulled back making him seem bigger than he already was. While he wasn’t trying to be threatening it came across that way, turning Aris from calm and relax too fidgety, ready to fight. Her eyes wide, she pulled back holding in a deep breath. Noticing the change in her he let down his shoulders he took a few steps back. “Sorry, Sam and I just didn't expect to find you of all people, becoming a hunter.”

Aris had to walk away stare out the window, ready to boil over with embarrassment from how easily she was pushed to the edge. But also knowing that it was something that was out of her control. She wiped away a tear hoping they didn’t notice. Putting on a brave face she hoped that her voice wouldn’t betray her.

“Don’t tell me that no one you’ve rescued hasn’t turned hunter.” Leaning against the window she focused on Sam.

“Yes but you’re not the type to usually go out hunting.” Sam offered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aris scoffed.

“What Sam is trying to say is that the last time we saw you. You were nearly falling apart at the slightest unexpected sound. You were a bit of a reck, to be honest.” Dean states bluntly, sitting down at the table next to his brother.

Slightly offended but completely understanding what they were saying Aris crosses her arms trying to hide her shaking hands. “My life has never been normal. Not when I was a kid, or after high school. Hell, you saw the shit storm I was living in. I tried to do the whole normal life thing when I was living with my sister! But the only thing that came out of it was me feeling like a freak. Everyone watching me waiting for me to break down or flip out. I couldn’t stand it. Life on the road gave me a chance to start over, and hunting just seemed to fit in with that. Sorry to disappoint you.”

What Aris was saying they could relate to on more than one level. maybe not in the same way but enough to a point that the brothers didn’t feel the need to question it. They looked at each other for a moment Sam tilting his head slightly while Dean only nodded. Aris was used to this silent communication that occurred between the brothers finding it both adorable and obnoxious. Sam got up without a word he made his way over to Aris who was tense waiting for the other foot to drop.

“If your going to hunt you should be with professionals.” Sam was smiling ear to ear.

Aris let down her guard for just a moment trying to get the words to make sense in her head “you mean it?”

“Of course. I know we may not be as fun as scooby doo crew but we sure know how to party.” Dean winked leaning back in his chair again.

Her mouth opened but she remained speechless it was more than she could have ever asked for. “I don’t know what to say!” She jumped into Sam's unexpecting arms making him stumble back a step. Catching his balance they locked eyes for a moment Aris’ never seemed so clear and bright. This was exactly what she wanted it only took til that moment to realize it.

“Thank you would be a start.” Dean laughed “Then maybe give us an idea of when you want to get this show on the road. I don’t know about you but I am ready to head back home. Also getting Jills number wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yes thank you. Of course first thing tomorrow ok? I just need to say goodbye to them and get my things.” Aris was giddy barely holding in the overwhelming joy she wanted to scream out. “I’ll see you guys first thing!”

When the door shut and all was quiet except for the soft snore coming from Dean, a soft light came through the curtains landing on the wall.  Sam lay staring up at the ceiling he couldn’t get that smile out of his head. The genuine true smile that made his heart race, He had seen it for the first time today, then again tonight when they asked her to join them. It moved something within him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. As he finally began to drift off to sleep the smile kept the darkness away lighting up his dreams, he only hoped that it wouldn’t fade as the night went on.

Before they went their separate ways Aris insisted on having a picture of everyone together. Setting the timer on her phone they stood a pile misfits smiling under the morning sun. Chloe, and Jill stood arm in arm, Dean trying to squeeze his way in between them. George was between Jill and Aris. Sam had his arm around Aris shoulders unable to take his eyes off her. Aris looked back up at him butterflies in her stomach. After the photo was taken the goodbyes seemed to go too quickly.

“Don’t be a stranger now, call anytime.” Dean flirted with Jill.

Jill laughed. “Sorry, bud, I’m Taken.” Chloe leaned over giving her a kiss.

Clearing his throat trying to recover he let out an uncomfortable laugh adding “I can handle that.”

Embracing George with a full body hug Aris felt herself tear up. “I’m going to miss you.  Please call me if there’s anything you need.”

“Of course and same goes for you. I’m only a phone call away.” George patted her shoulder, turning to Sam. “Take care of my girl ok? Next time I see her she better be in one piece you hear me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Taking her hand Sam squeezed it knowing that his promise to George was one he wouldn’t dream of breaking.

As they drove off Aris’ mind became a buzz looking forward to the future for the first time since she’d last gotten in that old sleek muscle car with the Winchesters. In her life, she’d gone from lost to caged, to lost again, but looking at the two men sitting in the front seat passing insults back and forth as easily as they passed compliments for the first time she felt like she was home. A pair of hazel eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror holding her up keeping her afloat on a cloud.

[jsmulligan]

“You've got to hold those zones!” the voice of Lord Shaxx, Crucible Handler, rang through the arena, frustration evident in his tone.

Shaxx was a legendary figure, a mountain of a man who had lead famed charges into harrowing conflict, then built the Crucible as we know it to train Guardians to be ready for anything that would come their way.  He was very hands on with his creation, monitoring each match that happened.  He served as announcer for some matches, others he would just chime in from time to time with comments directed toward the competitors.  Normally, hearing him getting so caught up in a match was nearly as entertaining as the action itself.  When it was directed at your team, the entertainment value dropped substantially.

“Oh, is THAT what we're supposed to be doing,” Hunter Celeste Etain muttered to the left of me.  “And here I thought we were just supposed to dance around them and look at the pretty flags.”

As she spoke, Celeste spun out into the open, drawing her Void bow and loosing an arrow at Zone B.  The arrow pierced through one defender.  Where he fell, a ball of purple Light blossomed with tendrils of energy lancing outward to snare the other two.  I followed her action up by tossing grenade that attached to one and exploded.  The energy of the explosion transferred through the Void tethers, killing both of them.

“Maybe that's what Baruch was doing,” Titan Kana-4 chimed in over the comms, her tone teasing.  “It would explain why we lost C just now.”

She sprinted into view, performing a crisp slide into the circle that marked the Control point.  Celeste and I quickly moved into it as well, the three of us watching for approaching enemies while waiting to be awarded the capture.

“I was not dancing,” Titan Baruch Maor groused after a few seconds, his usual lack of humor evident in his tone.  “They shot me out of the air before I could land my slam.  I had them dead to rights.”

“And that is why you don't leap high in the air before you do it,” I chided.  “At least until you've managed to better control you speed of descent.  We've talked about that.”

He did not reply to that, but I could imagine the Awoken man grumbling under his breath.  Despite being newly risen, Baruch was very self-assured.  That could be a good thing, but it often turned into arrogance or just thick-headed stubbornness.  If I could manage to shape it properly, it could result in a stalwart Guardian that others would follow into anything.  For now, however, it just made me want to beat my head against the Wall until visions of prancing Thrall filled my skull.

“Tanton.  Astrid.  How are you progressing?” I asked.

“Got one,” was the Hunter's terse reply.

“We found her by A and took her out,” Astrid's young voice replied.  “About to move to capture.”

“Nice work,” Celeste complemented.

“Thanks,” Astrid said, the mini-Titan's voice full of joy.  “She never saw me coming.  Dove into the back of her knees, then Tanton finished her off with his knife.”

“You and knees,” I muttered, not necessarily intending to be heard.

“It's fun,” she said.  “No one ever expects it.”

Motion to my left.  I turned and fired, three rounds leaping from my Parthian Shot pulse rifle.  They found their mark, striking a Guardian who had tried sneaking up on us.  Kana reacted and fired an inaccurate spray from her auto rifle.  It was not the best bit of shooting, but enough rounds found their mark to finish off the enemy combatant.

“Heavy ammo inbound,” suddenly sounded through the arena.

“We'll get the close one here,” I said.  “We'll do out best to wait for the rest of you to get here before opening it.”

“Not me,” Baruch stated.  “I've still got a Fist of Havoc that I need to hit someone with.  I'm going after the other drop.”

The heavy ammo crate trasmatted into its designated spot.  I erected a Ward of Dawn around it, giving us protection while we grabbed the ammo synths and loaded our weapons.  Across the bottom of my HUD, I saw several notifications scroll by in rapid succession:

BRAVO has picked up heavy ammo.

Baruch Maor killed Baris-7, Fist of Havoc

Baruch Maor killed Lee Christoph, Fist of Havoc

Baruch Maor killed David Ryn, Fist of Havoc

ALPHA has taken the lead.

Jarus Corbin killed Baruch Maor, sniper rifle

“Four of them got the heavy ammo, but I took out three,” Baruch said moments later, after being revived and transmatted back into the arena.

“Nice work,” I replied.  “Let's finish them off.”

Having five members of our team with heavy weapons available, versus only one of theirs, gave us a strong advantage.  We stuck together, working to take out approaching Guardians before they could pick us off or unleash their Light.  This let us stretch out the slim lead Baruch had gotten us, and we were able to hold on for the victory. It wasn't the prettiest match I had ever been part of, but a win is a win.  The team seemed to be coming together nicely.  Well, the team and Astrid, the irrepressible “Wild Child”.

Once the match was called, Celeste made her way to the nearest control point and was started dancing near the flag.  Kana cheered her on while clapping a beat.  Baruch, Tanton, and Astrid gathered nearby and were watching the two of them.

“Alright everyone, let's call it a day and get out of here,” I said.

“Aww, but I'm holding the zone like Shaxx said,” Celeste jokingly pouted.

“Yeah, someone has to show Baruch how it's done,” added Kana, casting a glance at the other Titan.

“Try it out next time we're in a match and see how it works for you,” the other Awoken man grumbled.  

“Well, if you want to stick around, that's up to you,” I replied, “but Fireteam Painted Truth is officially off duty for now.”

“Fireteam?” a familiar voice questioned behind me.  I turned around to see Jarus Corbin approaching.  He had already removed his helmet and a broad smile was creasing his dark features.  “Claney Beamard in an honest-to-goodness fireteam?  And here I thought I'd seen everything.”

“Jarus,” I nodded, extending a hand which the Hunter shook. “It's been a while.”

“Yes it has,” he responded, glancing past me at the other five Guardians.  “I thought you'd sworn off fireteams.  In fact, I remember you making a big deal about it when Iniko tried to get you to join ours a few years back.”

“It's a long story,” I said.  “But the short version is that it was something that I'd thought about for a while and the Vanguard assigned three kinderguardians to work with me and Celeste.”

“And the half-pint?”  Jarus asked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said quickly, holding a hand up.  “Don't let her hear you say that, unless you feel like eating a Hammer. What's the phrase?  '… though she be but little, she is fierce'? And to answer your question, she's not fully part of the team. Astrid is still only allowed to participate in the Crucible. Officially.  Unofficially, I'd be willing to wager just about anything that she manages to slip out and get herself more field experience than anyone would guess.”

A warning appeared on my HUD just then.  We had remained too long and needed to clear the arena before the next match.  I'd seen people ignore those warnings and had no desire to be cleared from the arena by the Redjacks.

“Let's finish this conversation back at the Tower,” I said to Jarus before turning my attention to my team.  “Now it's really time to go.  Clear out, head back home.”

…

I changed out of my armor into something more casual while on transit to the Tower.  Jarus, the team, and I all transmatted into the Courtyard about the same time, and it looked like they all had the same idea.  We briefly discussed heading to the Hangar bar or the City, but decided to continue the conversation at the fireteam quarters.  Astrid opted to head back to the Anusky's.  We reached our destination and the Hunter paused at the door where Celeste had painted the team's name in large letters.

“Painted Truth?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Celeste picked the name,” I replied with a shrug.

“Don't be jealous your team didn't think of something as interesting,” she smirked and passed through the doorway.  

Jarus just shook his head and followed her in.  I let Kana, Baruch, and Tanton enter as well before stepping in last.  By the time I entered, Jarus and Celeste had each found seats in the common area. Baruch and Kana were looking for seats, and Tanton was disappearing into his bunk.  I watched him go and then dropped heavily into an empty armchair.

“Jarus Corbin, this is Celeste Etain, Kana-4, and Baruch Maor.  The one who disappeared into his room is Tanton Holter.  Team, Jarus.” I indicated each member of the team as I said their names, and they each nodded or waved in turn.  “I've worked with Jarus a few times in the past.”

“Yep.  And I saved his life every single time, regardless of what he tells you,” the Hunter said.  “So, I take it we have time for the longer version now?” Jarus asked.

“I suppose we do,” I said, then took a moment to gather my thoughts.  “Well, it starts with a woman...”

“The best stories always do,” Jarus commented, winking at Kana who gave an impressive roll of her optics.

“... named Zillah Arvid,” I continued, ignoring both him and the sound Celeste made at the mention of Zillah's name.  “An Awoken Warlock.  She, Celeste, another Warlock named Scott-20, and I went on a mission that turned into something much bigger.  She suggested we form a team.”

“I can't help but notice there's nobody here that matches that description,” he said.  “Is she...”

“Dead?  No.  She left shortly after making the suggestion and hasn't been seen since.  The other Warlock suffered some injuries during the events and decided he preferred life in his study to the field.  He is our unofficial sixth member, acting as an information maven as well as facilitating communications and tinkering with gear.

“That left me and Celeste.  We work together all the time, but two people do not a fireteam make.  It seemed like the end of it.  I've spent the better part of the last year stationed at the Tower helping to mentor and train newly revived Titans.  Celeste stuck around for a time, but then ventured back into the wilds as you Hunters do. Still, I couldn't seem to shake the idea of putting a team together. Eventually I convinced Celeste to come back and brought the idea up to the Vanguard.  They assigned Kana, Baruch, and Tanton to us to make the team, though there wasn't a sixth at the time.”

“Dad and I...” Celeste began before Jarus interrupted again.

“Wait.  Dad?”

“I was there when she was resurrected,” I said quickly.  “Right after helping you and Iniko, actually.  Have you seen any old cartoons where the baby bird hatches and thinks that whatever the first thing it sees is its mother?  Same basic concept.”

“Shush,” Celeste laughed, tossing a throw pillow at me.  “Anyway. Yes, my dad.  We agreed to the assignment and have been spending way too much time in the Crucible ever since to, as the old man put it, 'build team report.'”

“Well that just sounds super boring,” Jarus remarked, smirking at me.

“Oh, it is,” Kana agreed.

“Well, if you get tired of it, Team Tosia could always has room a few extra members.  We'd actually let you out to shoot stuff.  Just ditch the 'old man' here and come on over.”

“Poaching from my team and inciting mutiny.  Remind me to not invite you back,” I said, shaking my head.

“What can I say?  I like to stir the pot,” the Hunter replied.

“I'm well aware of that.  Speaking of Team Tosia, how are things?”

“Knew they had a boring name,” Celeste muttered under her breath. Jarus either did not hear or just ignored it.

“Not bad, not bad.  Broke in a new member not too long ago when someone left the team.  We've been keeping active; taking strikes from the Vanguard, doing work for the factions, the usual.  It is getting a little weird out there, though.”

“How so?”

Jarus shifted as he spoke, leaning forward, “The numbers of enemy combatants we're seeing and the way they're moving.  I mean, given everything that has happened over the last few years, taking the Black Garden, killing Hive Gods, stopping the Devils and SIVA, it would stand to reason that we would see changes.  But... I don't know.  Something feels off about the way it's going down.  I can't really put my finger on it, though.”

I nodded, thoughtful.  Baruch and Kana seemed to listen intently with a definite hunger in their eyes.  Maybe it was time to get them out in the field instead of just drilling in the Crucible.

“I will say one thing for sure,” Jarus continued, “there is something going on with the Cabal on Mars.  Something seems to have lit a fire under them and they are starting to push harder against us and the Vex.  Mobilizing in a way I haven't seen since they were right before Oryx wrecked them on Phobos.  Tosia has recommended to the Vanguard that we increase our presence there.”

“You think they're planning to try to move against us?”

“Maybe.  Or maybe they're a canary.”

“A what?” Baruch questioned.

“A canary,” Jarus repeated.  “Back long before the Golden Age, when people would mine underground for minerals, they would sometimes have a canary with them in order to detect lethal gas.”

“Did the birds offer some sort of warning?” Kana asked.

“No,” Jarus replied, “they just died faster than people.  So if the canary dropped dead, they miners would know there was a deadly substance in the air and get out.”

“Oh,” was the only response the Exo offered.

“And you think that the Cabal are reacting to something big coming that we haven't detected yet?” I asked.

“They were like an ant hill someone kicked over before Oryx came in, they're starting to get that way now.  One doesn't necessarily mean the other, but...,” the Hunter shrugged.

“You may have a point.”

Just then, my Ghost Elgan materialized and floated over to me.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the Vanguard are calling for you.”

“Okay.”

“They want to speak to you in private,” he said.

I excused myself from the conversation and crossed the room to my bunk.  I closed the door and sat on the far side of the small room. Elgan flittered over to hover just in front of me, the pieces of his shell rotating in opposite directions.  I looked at him, and he connected me to the Vanguard.  The calm, deep voice of Commander Zavala emerged.

“Claney?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“There is an urgent matter that the Speaker wishes to discuss with you.  He is requesting that you come to his study alone.  He says it is something of a sensitive nature and would prefer no one else know that you are coming to speak with him.”

“Any idea what so I'm not going in blind?” I asked.

“No,” the Commander replied, a slight hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.  He did not seem to be thrilled to have the Speaker keeping him in the dark either.

“Fair enough.  I will head there right away.  Claney out.”

The connection severed and I sat still for a moment.  For the life of me I could not figure out what the Speaker would need to speak to me about.  No point in keeping him waiting, however.  I emerged from the room and all eyes turned to me.

“I have to go deal with something.  I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Celeste gave me an inquisitive look, and I shook my head then headed out the door.

...

AN:

This is the first chapter of my recently started fic over at fanfiction.net.  I saw posts about Destiny week, and that it was fireteam day.  I hadn’t contributed up ‘til now, but better late than never?  The story itself is a sequel to A Not So Simple Patrol and lead in to Destiny 2.

As always, Astrid is the property of @yourspunkpunk

[tiamat-zx]

Mending Bridges (Revisited)

Synopsis: Before departing for Whitestone to face the Briarwoods, Vax tries to make amends for angering Keyleth to the point where she refused to speak to him. Keyleth, in the meantime, starts thinking about what may lay ahead. This takes place during Episode 27, “The Path to Whitestone”.

Notes: “The Path to Whitestone” was and still is one of my least favorite episodes for several reasons. Still, I was wondering as to how Vax and Keyleth ended up being on speaking terms again due to his blunder in mentioning the child. So, despite my discomfort, I had to make myself rewatch at least enough to remember a few things. And also, I’d like to believe that Kiki’s Season 2 attire was actually the clothes she had bought in Vasselheim for their infiltration of the Velvet Cabaret.

This is my most recent revision. It’s about twice as long as it once was. I do hope you guys like this new version. Also, if you want to, please leave some feedback on ao3.

ao3 link can be found here.

Everything was going downhill very fast ever since their return from Vasselheim two weeks ago, and there was a very high chance that things would only continue to do so for them.

Vax could only mull over the events that transpired since their return to Greyskull Keep as he lay in his room. Everyone in Vox Machina were greeted with the news that a Lord Sylas Briarwood and a Lady Delilah Briarwood would be attending a feast at the royal palace of Emon. Hearing this news made Percy very nervous and agitated as he had vacated to his workshop to work on a “surprise” for the nobles. But when they inquired with him, they were greeted with a rather depressing story of the human’s upbringing and the fall of his family at the hands of the Briarwoods. Naturally, they all agreed to help him achieve revenge for those who died.

And then on the night of the feast, everything went to shit extremely fast when he tried to spy on the Briarwoods after the fact. Unfortunately, he had gotten caught by the two of them and even nearly died when he attempted to escape their clutches. Vox Machina managed to come to his aid with the help of a white tiefling named Lillith, who happened to be a cousin of Zahra Hydris, whom Vex’ahlia worked with during their Slayer’s Take trials. Despite their efforts, the couple escaped and vacated back to Whitestone, leaving Percy to vent out his anger and rage on not only their carriage driver, but also a group of bounty hunters hells-bent on capturing Lillith.

As if that were not enough, the party was removed from the Tal’Dorei Council for their actions that night despite their attempts at trying to plead their case. And now Percy wanted to take the fight to the Briarwoods themselves by returning home to Whitestone, far up in the Alabaster Sierras. They had a week to prepare themselves best they could, as they had no chance of proving their innocence just waiting in Emon.

It was the night before they decided to leave for Westruun to procure transportation for the mountainous hike. As he lay still on his bed, Vax’s gaze wandered towards the window and looked at the moon in the sky, rubbing the base of his neck where Sylas had bitten him the other night. So many things had happened, and he had been thrust into peril time and time again over the past month alone. He was surprised that he was still alive despite the odds. He worried so much about his life and that of his sister, especially after seeing her get struck by Delilah’s magic. He worried about Percival and the struggles he no doubt had faced five years ago haunting him once more, seeing his family’s killers in the flesh and only just barely keeping himself from shooting them during the proceedings. He worried about everyone in the group, knowing that they were about to go into danger with hardly any chance to rest, feeling as if they were fated to constantly be thrust into danger over and over and over again.

His thoughts then wavered towards what he had seen when he fell in the courtyard outside the palace. He had seen the others, and he had seen Vex’ahlia and how she had grown over the years into the strong, confident woman that she became. He couldn’t be more proud of his twin sister, who had handled the death of their mother and the scorning of their father much better than he thought. She had a strength that Vax wish he had, the strength to not be fazed by anything no matter how dire the circumstances and still come out on top as the exact same person. In fact, if it ever came to it, he would die for her so she could live on.

But in that instant, he also saw Keyleth. He saw her the way he had grown to always see her: beautiful, powerful, and full of grace despite her general awkwardness. His thoughts about her had changed greatly ever since the Underdark. At first he considered her as just another friend, not exactly as close as his sister was to him but close enough. But over time, ever since that one moment where he realized something was wrong with her, he found himself falling in love with her. He never even considered that particular outcome, but after the Underdark, he began to appreciate her much more such as when they were partnered up together for the Slayer’s Take hunt or during the trip to Pyrah for her Aramenté.

He was hoping to eventually find the courage to confess his feelings to her but not pressure her into making a choice right away. But after having angered her due to mentioning the child that she had accidentally killed, despite having good intentions, Vax began to wonder if it was even worth the trouble. It really made him feel depressed when she wouldn’t even talk to him after it happened. In fact, it broke his heart.

He sighed as he reached for the nightstand next to his bed and picked up the flower he plucked from her garden, still lost in his own musings as he stared at it. He was in love with a woman who didn’t even want to hear him out, even if it was for an apology; he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. In fact, there were many conflicting emotions within him, such as fear, anger, and shame. And yet, he knew that her anger was justified considering the hell she had gone through ever since destroying the Dread Emperor, the incident prompting her to leave for her sojourn to the Earth Ashari six months ago.

Vax continued to hold the flower in his hand, thinking things through. He wasn’t sure how he ended up falling in love, especially with someone like Keyleth, but regardless it had happened. He also wasn’t sure what to do since he hadn’t even told Gilmore yet about this. The sorcerer really took a liking to the rogue, and Vax often found Gilmore’s company quite pleasing. Not to mention that Vax trusted the man implicitly enough that he shared all the secret details regarding the Horn of Orcus. And yet, he knew that as much as he loved Gilmore, he couldn’t ignore his newfound feelings for that beautiful druid that started showing up in his dreams night after night.

At some point I should tell him about Kiki, to try to soften the blow. But I really don’t want to break his heart. Gods, why must this be so complicated?

And speaking of Keyleth, is she even interested in me? Hard to tell, especially considering she had a crush on that Kashaw fellow. Do I even matter to her at this point? Is it even worth going to talk to her right now?

Fuck it, I should at least try one more time. If she’s still angry, I suppose that means I have no chance whatsoever.

Sighing once again, Vax placed the flower back on the nightstand, got off his bed, and put on his boots. He then walked to the door and quietly slid past it, closing it silently. He had to at least try to apologize one more time.

Vax then quietly made his way to Keyleth’s door, and his nostrils could barely make out the scent of herbs and incense coming from that direction. He was surprised that she was still awake at this hour. In fact, the door was still slightly ajar, candlelight filtering out into the hall as he could hear her muttering to herself. Vax briefly debated in his head what to do at this point before deciding to just let himself in.

To hell with it, Vax told himself. I need to at least try. I need to not be a coward for once. I can’t just walk away like I always when things end up not going the way I would like.

Gods, this is complicated. Then again, what hasn’t been in my life?

Steeling himself best he could, Vax reached for the door handle to Keyleth’s room. He was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but he fought the urge to do so as he gently pushed it open.

He had at least try one more time.

Dressed in her Ashari nightgown, Keyleth was poring over her alchemy book in her room in Greyskull Keep, trying best she could to create potions that could aid the group. But due to her inexperience and only having learned how to be an alchemist recently, many of her efforts were a failure. And she was growing increasingly frustrated with each failed attempt on top of the events of the past two weeks.

In fact, everything was going wrong in so many ways. The Briarwoods had escaped, especially after nearly killing Vax, and they had gotten kicked off the council due to Uriel being charmed. Seeker Assum later told them all that Sylas was responsible due to the nobleman being vampiric in nature and having no problem in addling the sovereign’s and the seeker’s mental states. And she was getting very scared of not just Percy’s well-being but the rest of her companions, especially after seeing Tiberius brutally murder that old woman and showing no remorse for it.

And then there was Vax, who just had to open his damn mouth about the child and comparing that incident with the old woman. Keyleth was still feeling very sore about it, even making a point to outright ignore or brush off anything he had to say. The fucking idiot was so insensitive that he totally deserved a taste of his own medicine. The situation with the roc didn’t help matters, either, as some of the group wanted to kill it and its druid protector. Instead, she put her foot down and, with help from those who didn’t want to deceive or kill them, figured out a peaceful solution for both sides.

Keyleth’s thoughts went back to the confrontation with the Briarwoods. Sylas’s ferocity in combat was something to be feared, having seen him go toe-to-toe with Grog with that rather menacing blade and managing to handle the goliath on equal ground. Delilah was also frighteningly powerful as she was able to neutralize Tiberius and nearly kill Vex with her powerful magic. She had a feeling that their strength was far beyond what Vox Machina was capable of.

But what else are we supposed to do? And what can I do about Vox Machina themselves? Is it even worth it to try to make them understand what they are becoming?

Keyleth let out a long, deep sigh as she lay back in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes. She still couldn’t believe that she was still traveling with such a group of volatile people. Many times in the past she wanted to just leave them all, that they would be nothing but a negative influence. And yet, as the months passed by, she came to see them as being her dearest friends. She also knew that they would do anything for her, much like how she had for them. That fact only served to really confuse Keyleth even more, her desire to leave conflicting with her desire to stay.

And then a memory came to her. A memory of Vax comforting her during one of her more dire moments deep within the Underdark.

“Keyleth, I know you’ve had a hard time. We all have. I know we’re miles below the surface of the world. But we’re together. We are family. And everyone here is here for you as you have been for us. Now I say we camp for the night inside this schmuck’s tent. We stay here, we rest up, sleep on it, and see how we’re all feeling in the morning. We’re here for you, Keyleth. We’ll protect you as you have protected us. You got a family with us.”

“I only wish it were that simple...” Keyleth muttered to herself. And yet, she knew that Vax had a point. She truly considered Vox Machina to be her second family, especially since she had not seen her mother in twenty years. She recalled that Vax never really spoke about his and Vex’s family, other than meeting Syldor when they first arrived in Emon and met his elven wife and child. She then recalled that the interactions between the twins and their father were very stilted and frosty, contempt coming from both sides.

His childhood must have been rough. Not that he’s ever told us anything about it. I do really hope he tells us one day...

Keyleth couldn’t help but smile faintly when it came to thinking about Vax. Out of everyone in the group, despite her anger at him, a part of her still cared deeply about him in particular. They grew close in the past few weeks ever since she came back from Terrah, reaffirming the friendship they shared. He was very supportive of her during their Slayer’s Take trial and even during the journey to Pyrah and the Elemental Plane of Fire. Not to mention that even before then, she started to think about him more and more ever since their escape from Yug’Voril. She wasn’t sure how to process this feeling as it had never happened before. The closest equivalent to this sensation was her rather awkward infatuation with Kashaw.

No way. It can’t be like that... can it? Do I... love him? Maybe. And even if I did, it wouldn’t work out. After all, just the thought of falling in love scares me due to what still lies ahead for me.

Wait, why am I thinking about this?!

Keyleth tried to shake the thought out of her head as she resumed her work on another concoction. However, just like the rest, it was yet another failed creation.

“Gods dammit!” she yelled as she blindly threw the vial at the door, not even looking at or caring about where it was going to end up. But when she heard the shattering of glass against not wood but stone, she looked towards her door. It was standing open, and the vial’s contents were smeared against the stone wall.

What the—

It was then that she realized something else. Just as she had thrown the vial, she could’ve sworn she heard a gasp from the direction of the door and then a thud. Curious, she walked to the open door and began to look out into the hall. Other than Laina and Erwen and any of their guards, no one should really be awake at this time. Everyone needed their sleep before the big hike tomorrow, of course. And after the surprise visit from a couple of creatures after dealing with the roc, Keyleth was far more antsy about there being more of them.

She looked to her right and when she did, she almost wanted to laugh out loud at the unexpected timing. It was Vax’ildan, of course, leaning on the wall and looking down at his boots, avoiding eye contact. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing out of his room, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. For all she knew, he would open his mouth and make yet another stupid comment that would make her even angrier.

And yet, she couldn’t help but notice his expression. He seemed rather distant and depressed. In fact, he looked as if he didn’t have a lot of sleep at all, almost matching the kind of expression Percy had been making lately ever since the news about the Briarwoods coming to town. And seeing that same expression on Vax’s face made Keyleth feel a pang of guilt for her own behavior earlier, though she made a conscious effort not to show it. After all, she was still a little pissed at him.

Keyleth straightened up and then said to Vax, “What do you want?”

Vax slowly looked up but didn’t look her in the eye, as if he was ashamed to do so. Keyleth had seen that look before, and that realization made her feel ill. After all, she had made it herself several times before, back home and while she had been traveling for the past year, most notably after she had accidentally killed the child.

She couldn’t bear to look Vox Machina nor the parents of the child in the eye, especially after the boy’s mother asked what had happened to him. And when she was told what had happened, the mother grew furious and lashed out at Keyleth, refusing to hear the druid’s side of the story and pleading to Pike for her son to be brought back over and over again. But it was when Pike sadly told her that she lacked the power to do so that the mother broke down and sobbed.

That particular sight caused Keyleth’s own heart to break, especially since she caused this to happen. She came to realize that the power she was gifted with would carry with it the burden of responsibility, especially if innocent lives were caught in the crossfire in battle, and therefore there would be consequences for her actions if people got hurt. For a time, she believed that she could manage, that she would be able to avoid doing such a thing. And yet at that moment, when the vine she conjured tugged against the Dread Emperor’s chained charge and she heard the sickening snap of that tiny neck, she knew. She knew that she had just taken an innocent life. It was all her fault.

She knew there was no way for her to easily atone for her actions. She was a killer, plain and simple. Despite Vox Machina being there to try to support her, they never truly understood what it felt like for her. So thus the next day before sunrise, she made the choice to just up and leave the group before anyone else woke up, leaving behind only a single written letter explaining where she had gone.

Keyleth knew that it was the cowardly choice, and even then it didn’t help at all considering the difficulties she experienced during her training under Pa’tice. The vision she experienced did not help matters either, which only further shook what feelings of conviction she still had. It made her greatly think about whether or not she was even worthy of becoming the Voice of the Tempest. It also made her wish that her mother had never vanished, since due to that the burden of the Aramenté was suddenly placed on Keyleth’s shoulders. She even silently hated the fact that her own people—even her own father—decided that she had to be the one even though she never wanted the responsibility. Once again, no one ever truly knew or understood her suffering. Not her people, nor Vox Machina, nor anyone else.

But at the same time, she knew that she could not survive out in the world alone. And she still had a kinship with her party, even with her misgivings about them. So when she had finally returned six months later, and the party welcomed her back with open arms, she was such a sobbing mess that Tiberius hugged her tight, the dragonborn relieved that she came back safe and sound.

Having thought all of those things, Keyleth felt that Vax was acting this way because of how she treated him. Another pang of guilt formed within her.

“I, um... I wanted to see how you were doing,” he started to say. And he then glanced at the residue on the wall and said, “Having a bad night yourself, I take it?”

Keyleth let out another deep sigh and replied, “Yeah. Not exactly making a lot of headway in being an alchemist, that’s for sure. I’ve also got a lot on my mind about what’s to come.”

Vax nodded, still not wanting to look her in the eye. And every time he averted his gaze, it only served to make her feel even worse. “Same. Um, I guess that answers my question. I don’t want to, um, keep you from working or trying to get some sleep. So... I’ll just be going now.”

With that, Vax removed himself from the wall and, while still not looking her in the eye, began to walk off with his shoulders slumped. Keyleth looked down at her feet, unsure as to what to do next. She knew that she had to say something, but she wasn’t sure if he’d even stay put due to how she treated him. Indecision was always a strong flaw of hers every time she was faced with a choice.

She still had to try, though.

“Vax, wait.”

She then heard the rogue’s footsteps slowing and then stopping entirely before he could get too far upon hearing her words. Looking up, she could see that his back was facing her, head still drooped down and shoulders still slumped. She got him to stop walking away, but what next?

“If you want to talk, then by all means. Please come inside,” she said as she moved away from the door and waited for Vax to step in. And to her surprise, he walked inside and stood there as she closed the door and, as if on impulse, locked it. Behind her, she could hear him sigh heavily.

Wait, why did I just lock the door? It’s not like I’m planning to do... “that”. This isn’t exactly the right time and place for that. I mean, I don’t even know how he feels about me, nor what I’m supposed to do about it. Sure, I’ve been having dreams about him, but why have I?

Am I... dreaming about him because I am in love? Or is it out of concern?

Why can’t I seem to figure these things out?! It’s not like I can ask Scanlan or Grog about it; they are less about love and more about lust! Maybe Vex? I doubt it. Who knows how she’d react, especially since it’s about her brother?

I mean, Vax and I are only friends... right?

Then again, I can’t help but feel as if he thinks of me as more than that... if that moment was any indication.

Keyleth, lost in her reverie, couldn’t help but think back to a certain moment from back when they were in Vasselheim, waiting for Vex’ahlia’s team to return.

It had been only a few moments after Kashaw had made his abrupt exit. As Thorbir groaned at the sudden and unexpected display of affection and walked off to get himself a drink at one of the many taverns in the cold streets of Vasselheim, the rest of them were brought to another room for lodging.

“This is where you can stay while you wait for your companions to return. I’m sure they will be back quickly,” Murtin Cyndrial had stated, his jovial personality ringing true.

But Vax wasn’t as jovial about it. Instead, he let himself in without a word, not looking anyone in the eye as he crashed onto the bed. Tiberius, grumbling and muttering and complaining as usual, entered the room as well. The overall trial had been rough for all of them, after all.

“T-Thank you, Murtin,” Keyleth replied. “Will you let us know when they come back? Because... Vax gets very agitated if he’s apart from his sister for a long time.”

“Oh, certainly!” the halfling said with a laugh. “Also, I gotta say, that Kash fellow sure knows how to make an impression. Don’t you think so, missy?”

Keyleth’s face turned a scarlet red color, being reminded once again of the grumpy cleric stealing her first kiss, and without warning too. “Y-Yeah, he does.”

“Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. You’ve earned it!” Murtin shouted with nothing but cheer in his voice. He then walked off with a spring in his step, still excited about the news of the successful hunt of the rakshasa .

Keyleth still stood there in the hall as she stared off into space, still dazed about the kiss as her heart raced. This was something completely new to her, something unknown. That Kashaw was certainly something else. She wasn’t sure why she felt such an attraction towards him, as they had only known each other for a few hours. Not to mention that he seemed either disinterested or outright rude about everything she had said and done.

She also couldn’t help but feel as if the kiss felt awkward and weird.

I mean, he’s technically a married man. And up until that point, he didn’t really seem the least bit interested in me. What the hell was that about?

Although... it did feel good, at least a little. I wonder if that’s what it feels like for other girls who receive their first kiss.

“Ah, young love. So fleeting, yet so palpable. It’s truly amazing to witness, especially if it’s you.”

Keyleth jumped a little at the unexpected voice. She turned to where it was coming from, and her nerves were settled immediately. It was Tiberius.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘love’? I-I only just met the guy,” she asked him.

“Oh, did I misunderstand? My sincerest apologies, milady,” Tiberius responded, scratching the back of his scaled head. “Then again, I’ve never really experienced such a thing myself, being a scholarly fellow. It was always reading and research up in Draconia for me.”

“I see... I mean, I can relate. Back home in Zephrah, I had the same kind of upbringing in my preparation for the Aramenté. No time for socializing, no time for fun, no time for... love. So... this is very new to me. Although...”

“’Although’? What’s wrong, Your Highness?” Tiberius asked.

Keyleth hesitated. “It... It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Then out of the corner of her eye, Keyleth then noticed something. Namely, an empty bed where Vax once was.

“Hey, where did Vax go?”

Tiberius looked at where he was earlier and shrugged. “Poor boy. He must still be fretting about Vex. After all, he was very angry at the tiefling woman—”

“Vanessa,” Keyleth interrupted. “She has a name, Tiberius.”

“Sorry,” Tiberius said apologetically. “He was very angry at Vanessa for splitting us all up. And I’ll be frank, I’m just as worried about the others as you and Vax are.”

Keyleth nodded. “Still... I worry about him. I... have my reasons.”

What Keyleth didn’t elaborate on was that the root of her worry stemmed from having Vax on the forefront of her mind for the past two weeks or so ever since the Underdark. She wasn’t really sure if Tiberius would understand, based on his own admission.

“Um... I’m gonna go look for him,” Keyleth told the dragonborn. “Don’t wait for me to go to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Tiberius shrugged. “Very well, milady. I need some sleep anyway.”

Then, as soon as Tiberius closed the door behind him, Keyleth made her way through the hallways to the front doors that led out into the Quadroads. Making her way outside, she figured that she’d have a better chance of finding him from above. Focusing, she transformed into a raven and took to the sky. As she flew, she looked all over with her avian eyes. And after about an hour of searching, she could just barely catch the sight of a dark-haired half-elven man skulking in the alleyways.

Vax.

Keyleth flew in for a closer look and then carefully perched herself on his shoulder. Vax was only mildly started until he realized she was there. He then calmed himself down, his body becoming less tense.

“Hello, little birdie. What are you doing out here in the middle of this cold city?” Vax asked her, a faint smile forming on his face.

Keyleth cursed herself that she couldn’t respond with words. One of the many things she was upset about when it came to her shapeshifting abilities. Instead, she edged closer and did her best to brush her feathered body against Vax’s face. His skin felt chilled due to being outside this long.

Vax, you really should come back inside. You’ll freeze to death if you’re not careful.

“Aww, aren’t you really affectionate? Reminds me of Trinket whenever he nuzzles me or Vex. Or even the rest of the group...”

Vax trails off, the smile fading. He then looks up at the night sky, his breath visible due to the cold.

“My sister is out there, quite possibly fighting a dragon right now. I don’t even know if she’s alive or not. Sure, she has some of our companions with her, but that doesn’t exactly ease my worries. As if that wasn’t enough... someone I know had just met someone else. And... I don’t even know how I should react to that.”

Keyleth’s heart sank a little. She knew he was referring to her and Kashaw.

Wait, are you... jealous, Vax? I mean, why would you be jealous? We’re friends.

“I dunno, I’m not even sure how I feel about her,” Vax continued. “She’s an amazing person. She’s powerful and kind, and she may be an awkward and nervous wreck, but I like that about her. I... I don’t know how to process this feeling within me.”

Wait a minute... is he talking about...?

“Oh, who am I kidding?” Vax was still saying. “I’m probably just stressed from what’s been happening lately. Hmph, I never thought that a bird like you would make a great conversation partner.”

Vax took his finger and scratched Keyleth’s raven neck. She closed her eyes and felt a little more content. She wanted to just revert right then and there, but she wasn’t sure how Vax would react. He’d probably be so flustered that he would start avoiding her. Instead, she did her best to motion towards the direction of the guildhall, hoping that Vax would take the hint.

“Oh... Now that you mention it, I should be heading back. I’m only going to make the others worry. You should get going yourself. Don’t you have others to go back to?”

Keyleth did her best to nod in her bird form and then took to the sky once more. As she flew, her mind began to race.

Did... he basically just say he had feelings for me? He wasn’t exactly being direct with his words. Then again, maybe I’m overthinking it.

I still wonder, though.

Trying to focus, she managed to fly back to the guildhall and up through the window leading to their room. Seeing that she made it back before Vax, and that Tiberius was sound asleep (and snoring), Keyleth found herself crawling into bed herself. It was a long day, and it was seemingly going to be a much longer wait.

Three days. That is what the Huntmaster had stated in terms of the duration of the trial. They could easily wait three days.

But then three days became four, and it was not until midday on the fourth day that they finally came back. From there, they traveled to Pyrah and then finished some more business in Vasselheim before returning home... and then things quickly went to hell.

“Um, where do I even start?” Vax asked her, bringing Keyleth out of her reverie. She remembered that she merely asked him to come in for a talk.

Just a talk. Nothing more. At least, I think that is the case.

Sighing, Keyleth turned away from the door and found herself staring  at Vax’s back. Nervously, she reached out, grasped his arm, and pulled it with the intent to make him turn around. And without much restraint, he did so albeit his head was still dropped low.

“You can start by looking at me.”

When he didn’t, she took her hands and placed them on both sides of his face and made it so he could finally look her in the eye. And when he did, she could see something that she was expecting to see: tears falling down his face.

“Vax?”

Silence surrounded the two of them for quite a while. If anything, Vax was always the quiet sort when emotionally burdened, as well as when he was being distant. In fact, he was so quiet that she almost didn’t catch a whispered response from him. It was muttered too low for her to hear.

“Did you say something?” she asked in a quiet, gentle tone.

“I’m sorry.”

Keyleth frowned and tilted her head. “For what?”

Vax’s tears continued to flow down his cheeks, trailing down her hands and along her arms as he no doubt struggled to find the words to say to her. Every passing moment that he stayed silent only further served to depress Keyleth. And then, after a while, he finally said something.

“For making you angry. For being inconsiderate. For just being me.”

It was as if someone had lit a lantern in her head, as hearing those words made her want to cry herself. Deep down, she wanted to punch herself for not even taking into account Vax’s feelings at all. She was just as inconsiderate of them as he was of hers at the time. And that realization only served to make her feel worse. And little by little, her stoic expression started to crack.

“I... I didn’t mean to anger you so much. I didn’t even think of how you would react. I only wanted to tell Tiberius that he was in the wrong when he killed that woman and... out of everyone in our group, I didn’t want to make you angry at me. That’s... something I never want to do. Ever.”

“Vax... shut up,” Keyleth interrupted, not wanting to hear any more. She dropped the façade entirely and pulled Vax in for a tight, strong hug. And even then, she still tried to hold back her tears as she started to run her hand through his hair, trying to calm him down.

“Keyleth?” he asked, his voice quaking.

She shook her head as she couldn’t hold back any longer, the tears now falling down her face. It was her fault that he was acting like this. She caused yet another heart to be broken. Just like the mother of the child. Just like when she ended up reducing Lady Kima to tears when they had their argument in the Underdark.

Why am I cursed to make people cry?

Pulling herself together, she told Vax, “It’s all right. I should be the one to apologize. It’s true that I was angry at you, but I’m more angry at myself for allowing that past mistake to affect me so much.”

Vax nodded as he continued to cry and eventually embraced her just as tight. His embrace was warm and strong, much like how she remembered it when they mourned the loss of the flying carpet during the pursuit of the rakshasa. For that brief moment, all she wanted to do was to hug him and comfort him.

“I suppose we both have a lot to feel sorry for,” Keyleth told him as she still held him tight.

“I suppose we do,” Vax said to her. “I don’t want what happened to ruin our friendship. It means a lot to me. And... I don’t blame you for being angry at me. I was being quite a dumbass.”

Keyleth nodded. “I agree. I don’t want to lose our friendship, either. Not over a mistake like that. It’s rather childish of me to cut ties over such a thing, actually. It’s not something a future leader of the Ashari should do.” She pulled back and looked into Vax’s eyes and said with a surprisingly calm voice, “So... I forgive you.”

At that statement, he gave a faint smile. “Thank you, Kiki. I really appreciate that.”

Keyleth couldn’t help but return his smile with one of her own. Despite that brief feeling of anger and resentment towards Vax over the past week, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that even though she treated him that way, he didn’t hold it against her. Having thought that, something stirred within her, a rather pleasant feeling coursing through her body and warming her heart. It made her smile a little wider, and she didn’t even feel embarrassed about it.

So is it true? Do I... feel that way about him?

Breaking the embrace, and wanting to not dwell on such thoughts, Keyleth then said to Vax, “I know I’ll never get over that feeling of guilt. That’s not going to change. However, I do need to not go into a rage whenever it gets brought up. I know you had good intentions, and it was wrong of me. So... starting tomorrow, we can go back to how things were.”

Vax nodded slowly. “Agreed. It’ll feel good to do that.”

Keyleth nodded back. A thought then came to her as she asked Vax, “Well, since you’re still here, I was wondering if I could have your opinion on something.”

“Yes?” he replied.

Keyleth then walked to her closet and pulled out some familiar-looking clothes: a brown, sleeveless dress with gray leggings and a leather corset, with ruby-encrusted arm bangles and a matching choker. They were the clothes that she had bought in Vasselheim, recently mended and cleaned.

“I was thinking of wearing this tomorrow. I kinda need to break this outfit in some more. What do you think?” she asked as she showed him the dress.

Vax thought about it for a moment and then said, “I think it would look great on you once more. You should wear it.”

Keyleth blushed a little as she placed the bundle of clothes on the table after putting away all of her alchemical tools. “Thank you, Vax. That’s very sweet of you.”

Vax turned his head away, but not before Keyleth herself noticed a blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night, Kiki.”

“Good night, Vax,” she replied, choosing not to show that she noticed him blushing. The rogue then let himself out the door and back into the dark hallways, heading back to his room.

Keyleth closed the door and leaned back against it, feeling a little better after her talk with Vax. It gave her a chance to calm down after her failed alchemy attempts. And besides, she had to admit that seeing Vax blush like that was rather cute.

I still have to wonder. Does he have feelings for me? And do I for him?

Shaking her head, Keyleth made her way to her bed and crawled under the covers. She then allowed herself to fall asleep, and she ended up dreaming of their time in Vasselheim. Specifically, of the time before they infiltrated the Velvet Cabaret when they pretended to be married. It was rather amusing to tell Vex about that later on, but what Keyleth’s dream was focused on was how it felt to be in his presence.

She continued to sleep, oblivious to her door creaking open as Vax peeked through, watching her sleep as if she were the most amazing person in the world. And then, he closed the door and silently went back to his room, a smile forming on his lips.

The next morning, everyone began to gather together as Tiberius prepared his teleportation circle. Vax could notice that everyone was on edge due to the agreement they all made to go to Whitestone today. If they failed, they would no doubt all die. But it was still a risk that had to be taken, for Percy’s sake.

As Tiberius finished his preparations, he noticed Keyleth consciously standing close to him. The two half-elves looked at each other, a silent understanding between them of where they stood now, as Vax felt much more calm and serene after his conversation with her the other night. He truly felt as if he might have a chance to tell her one day, provided they survived their upcoming battle with the Briarwoods.

He heard a rather faint snarl from behind, a quick glance revealing the source to be Vex. He noticed Keyleth shrugging at the ranger when their eyes met, and Vax could only wonder what his twin was thinking. He hadn’t told her either, after all. But perhaps there would be a chance later on. And as Tiberius cast the spell, and the circle flared to life, Vax and Keyleth soon found themselves holding hands as they braced themselves for the inevitable confrontation to come and leaped into the portal together.

They didn’t realize it at the time, but their feelings for each other were quite strong even if they were unsure as to how the other felt. But by the end of their impending adventure in Whitestone, that would change.

[tact-and-impulse]

Eating Together Drinking Alone Chapter 29

It’s the climax of this entire work. And yes, I do reference an anime scene, because...parallelism. Also, Fujita Maiko’s song Hotaru pretty much defined the mood of this chapter. It’s also good for the actual scene too... Here is it on FF.net and AO3. 

Chapter 29: Unagi

It would have been a warm day, if it hadn’t rained in the morning. Wind blew through the streets, too cool to be refreshing, yet the air smelled wonderfully clean. Tae held the door open for Yahiko and Tsubame, who had arrived with fresh vegetables from the market.

“Thank you, you two. I hope it wasn’t that cold out there.”

Tsubame shook her head. “We didn’t take very long, so we were fine.”

“It’s nothing compared to training in the winter.” Yahiko set a bag of potatoes down, and then drew an envelope from within his shirt. “Oh, and here’s a letter from Kenshin’s master. He said he changed his mind about going to the post office, so I’m giving it to you.”

“Thank you, Yahiko-kun.” She resisted the urge to open it immediately and instead tucked it into her apron pocket. “How is he doing? Did he receive the wakame?” She had sent the dried seaweed through the mail, but she hadn’t received a reply until now.

“He said it wasn’t bad, and he could go home any day.”

She had expected as much, she had noticed how much better he was doing. But still, hearing Yahiko made it more final, more real. “I see. Well, it was nice to see him here in Tokyo.”

“But, you haven’t visited in a week, Tae-san…” Tsubame’s gaze was full of concern, but she smiled in return.

“It’s good that his leg has fully healed. That’s what matters.” Then, she urged them to prepare for the day while she continued to train the staff in advertising. Late last night, she had come up with a charming slogan, and practiced it out loud with them. Machi and Jun were in the front of the group; she made sure not to let her hand linger on her apron, any longer than necessary.

It wasn’t until after the lunch hour had ended, that she had a moment to herself. She had finished sweeping behind the restaurant and the quiet atmosphere was tempting. After glancing around, she drew the envelope from her pocket and opened it. One sentence was written in brisk brush strokes.

After you close for the day, come to that shrine.

She thought for a moment. Which shrine? Oh! The one where we took shelter, when we were caught in the rain. It’s not too far, but why not here or the dojo? Unless…it’s for privacy.

Tae abruptly refolded the paper, mentally berating herself.

Now I’m just being ridiculous! There isn’t any way he thinks of me like that, not at all!

Her cheeks burned, and she desperately wanted a fresh breeze. “Oh, dear.” She sighed. It was terribly bittersweet to like someone, and especially for her. She didn’t have the best luck in relationships, and she had thought she was content in encouraging others. But she couldn’t see how she could confess to Hiko-san, before he left. Or if she would. Right now, her feelings were like clouds that had just shifted, and she was only happy to be around him. She was sure it showed, she knew she had been more aware and attentive. However…

However, she doubted Hiko-san thought of her as more than a friend. Trusting her with his past or telling her to be strong in her situation, those weren’t the same as romantic love.

She reminded herself of that, for the rest of the day. When night fell and the last customer left, she told Tsubame she was heading out. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Yes, Tae-san.” She smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The walk was short, most likely because she was hurrying. In the dark distance, fireflies stirred, blinking in and out. Then, as she approached, a lantern’s glow caught her eye. Hiko-san was sitting on the steps of the shrine, his eyes closed.

“Hiko-san, good evening.” She greeted and joined him on the steps. They weren’t close enough to touch, but hyperawareness buzzed through her. “Have you been waiting very long?”

“No.” He cleared his throat, his eyelids snapping open. She expected him to continue, but he didn’t. He kept looking straight ahead, and she drew her own gaze away from his profile. The silence was apprehensive, before at last, he said. “The wakame was good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.” She tried to keep her tone light. “How have Kenshin and Kaoru been?”

“They’re the same, day in and day out. Ridiculously happy, with the brat. I grew tired of it.”

“But you’ll still visit.” She gave a knowing smile. “And I’ll let you know how they are, when I visit Kyoto in a couple of months.”

He didn’t reply for a long while. Then, he turned to look directly at her for the first time that night. “No, you shouldn’t.”

She was taken aback. “I shouldn’t? I think I can-”

“How’s the Akabeko?”

She swallowed hard. “We’re hanging in there. The situation hasn’t changed, from what I could tell.”

“I found out otherwise. Did you know about the rumor, that you’re getting married and selling the restaurant?”

Tae felt cold. “No. But…that would explain some of the looks I’ve been getting.” She had thought her acquaintances were being encouraging, not congratulatory. “Who on earth could I marry-oh.” Now, she blushed and hastily said. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

“And yet, that misunderstanding was exploited by the real estate hunter. He’s even gotten into your mail, he’s friends with a postal worker. So, it’s best that we shouldn’t have any contact, to have a clean break.” He stood, and his expression was surprisingly gentle. “I have no desire to take your livelihood from you. You’ve worked hard, to be established and respected. If my presence threatens that, then I can’t stay around you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond immediately. Because he was right. “I understand, the best thing is to let this relationship cool. If there’s nothing between us, there’s nothing to exploit to hurt me. This is goodbye.”

“Do you resent me?”

“I…” She stopped herself and carefully phrased her response. “When we first met at the Shirobeko, I didn’t think very highly of you. However, we happened to see each other more often since then, and I learned to see you as a friend. And now…” I think I’m in love with you, just when we have to cut off all contact. So, please-

“I’m not happy about it either. But I care for you, so for your sake, I’ll leave you.”

Care for me? How vague…could he really mean…?

She moved to stand. He didn’t touch her, but they were close enough that she could recognize the scent of his coat. When he handed her the lantern, their fingers didn’t brush. His face was perfectly calm. “Goodbye, Sekihara.” Almost in slow motion, he turned around and began to walk.

“Hiko-san!” He did look back, and she straightened. She couldn’t confess, but she would see him off with a smile. “Travel safely.”

He only gave that smirk, maddening and endearing and bitter all at once. Then he left, his shadow melding into the night.

Slowly, Tae went back the way she came. Her eyes began to burn halfway through, and she didn’t stop blinking, until she had returned to the empty Akabeko.

***

“How was the eel, Tae?” Her father asked.

“Delicious.” She did her best to smile. The unagi had been cooked nicely, the skin sweet and soft from the steamed rice. “You were right, that was the best stall.”

Obon would begin in a few days, and yesterday, she had stayed at her parents’ little farm. It was flourishing, the colorful array of vegetables ripening. Today, they ventured into the city, despite the heat, and eating eel was for strength and stamina.

“Okaa-san, are you alright?”

Her mother had been quiet, and she sheepishly shrugged. “I want to see Sae and the baby, that’s all. We look forward to meeting your friends too.”

“Yes, they’ll be here later in the week, Tsubame-chan first.” Kenshin, Kaoru, and Kenji would join them later, for they had to pay respects to a grave here in Kyoto. She set down her chopsticks. “Then, let’s go to the Shirobeko.”

The restaurant was busy, yet Toru met them at the door. “Hello, everyone. Sae’s upstairs, Makoto’s just woken up from his nap.”

“Thank you, Toru. You look well.”

His smile was wry. “We’ve had less sleep, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Sae practically lit up, as she patted her son’s back. Makoto’s face was red from crying, but he was adorably plump. Otou-san was pleased, and Okaa-san fussed over her grandson. Tae held him for a while, laughing at his confused expression.

“I do look like your mother, don’t I? Well, you’ll be able to tell us apart when you’re older. Be on your best behavior in the meantime.”

Sae beamed. “Don’t worry, he’s a good child.” Motherhood suited her sister, and Tae was happy for her.

Dinner was rowdy, most of it friendly teasing over Masa and Hotaka’s wedding plans. Yasu kept calling for toasts in their favor, and the laughter grew each time. The reverie lasted until evening, when they had to return to the farm. It was only for the day, they would back for Obon, but per usual, it was reluctant to leave. Amidst the drawn-out goodbyes, Sae approached her, quietly saying. “Are you alright? You seemed a little melancholy. Is it because of that friend you can no longer meet?”

She nodded. “I’m fine, it was for the best.”

Her sister took her hand, squeezing gently. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I’m always here for you.”

Tae squeezed back. “Of course, and the same goes for you.”

The next morning, she excused herself, explaining she would be returning to the city. “I’ll be back later, I want to buy some souvenirs for my employees in Tokyo.”

“Be safe.” Her father reminded, and her mother waved her off.

It didn’t take her very long, to buy enough sweets that would satisfy the girls, so she headed for Natsuko’s grave. It had been tended to, the flowers were starting to brown and wilt. Tae lit an incense stick for her and her family, the pungent smoke lingering in the heavy air. Cicada song rose and fell, and her gaze was pulled towards the nearby mountains.

She should have returned to her parents’ home. Instead, she changed direction, walking on the road leading out of Kyoto.

I want to see you. I want to tell you that the Akabeko is recovering. We still don’t have as many customers as we used to, but it’s slow progress. No one’s been offering to buy the restaurant, so it seems we’re in the clear. Perhaps, we don’t need to cut each other off completely.

But it didn’t turn out that way.

When she reached the clearing, he wasn’t there. She called out, and was met with silence. The house was empty, and so was his pottery workshop. Hiko-san was not at home.

Tae laughed, she couldn’t help it. She supposed he was selling his wares elsewhere, and it was just as well. It was foolish to be here, the current state of things was still so fragile. “Alright. Then, whenever fate decides it, we’ll meet again.” She murmured, before turning back towards Kyoto.

And hopefully, her feelings would not fade.

[badwolf1988-blog]

Winter Snow: Epilogue

10 YEARS LATER

“The reality show, Dog the Bounty Hunter, first aired twenty-three years ago and while the big Dog has been in retirement for close to a decade, his sons, fifty-four-year-old Duane Lee Chapman II and fifty-one-year-old Leland Chapman, as well as his thirty-two-year-old grandson, Dakota Chapman are keeping the family bounty hunting tradition alive.

Tonight on 20/20, the Chapman family opens up for the first time...including discussing the famous Chapman family estrangement.”

“I can't believe that we agreed to do this.” I groaned and buried my face in Dakota's chest. Who I thought I was hiding from, I had no idea.

When the producers of 20/20 had approached the family and asked us to do a special, I must have been in a really good mood to have agreed. Actually, I was in a good mood. That had been the day that I found out that I was pregnant for the fourth time.

As if on cue, my unborn son gave me a swift kick to the kidney.

“Urgh,” I moaned in frustration and discomfort. I was three days overdue and miserable. I shivered a little and Dakota reached to end of the bed and pulled the comforter up and over us. I turned my attention back to the television that hung on the wall over our dresser.

“For the past nine years, cameras have followed the second and third generations of Chapmans as they've hunted criminals in Colorado. The Dog House premiered in January 2018 on the A&E network and is currently in the middle of filming its tenth season.

Over the years, fans have grown to know and love Leland, Duane Lee, and Dakota as entities separate of Duane “Dog” Chapman.

We were there when Leland and his second wife, Jamie, welcomed twins Eliza Mary and Beau Lee in season one.

We were there when Duane Lee and his second wife, fellow bounty hunter and cast mate, Kasey traveled to Michigan to adopt son, Killian James. We were with them in Oklahoma when they adopted daughter, Penelope Amber. We watched as the couple welcomed son, Greyson Joseph in season four.

Cameras were on hand in 2019 when Dakota and wife, Winter became first-time parents to son, Maverick Leland.

Now, almost a decade after the show's pilot, only 20/20 can tell you what the Chapmans are up to now. We will start with fan favorite, Dakota.”

I started praying that I would go into labor so that I didn't have to watch this.

“Dakota resides in Aspen, Colorado where his wife, Winter, is the manager of her family's popular ski resort. We sat down with the couple in the three story cabin that they call home at the base of Aspen Mountain.

Reporter: How long have the two of you been married?

Dakota: Ten years this June.

Winter (giggles): We were still babies when we got married and started having babies.

Speaking of babies...remember baby Maverick? Well, he is a baby no more. He's eight-years-old and third grader who is homeschooled by mom, Winter...and he isn't alone. Dakota and Winter are also the proud parents of two daughters. Their six-year-old daughter, Scarlett Amiyah was born in January 2021. She was followed in August 2025 by two-year-old sister, Willa Cadence.

Reporter: So, you two have a houseful and it looks like that house is getting fuller. (She nods at Winter's barely there baby bump)

Dakota: Yeah, she swears this is the last one but we'll see. (He smirks playfully at Winter who just rolls her eyes.

Reporter: Do you know if you are having a boy or a girl?

Winter: It's a little boy...finally. Mav's been asking for a little brother pretty much from the moment he learned to talk. (laughs)

Reporter: Another Chapman man in the world. (shakes head) Does he have a name?

Dakota: Zane Dakota...and Winter is a saint for raising Chapman kids. For real, she's superwoman. She raises and homeschools the kids and she runs the resort. My world wouldn't turn and I wouldn't be able to do what I do if I didn't have her waiting at home for me. The day I met her, I was blessed.”

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” I asked as I leaned up and placed a kiss on his chin.

“It's always nice to hear it, sweetie.” He kissed the top of my head as he started to gently rub my belly. He knew from experience that it soothed my sore stomach muscles.

A sharp pain (that was very familiar to a mother with three kids) hit my back and traveled to my stomach. I had been having Braxton hicks contractions for over a month so I didn't think anything of it. I simply took a deep breath to try and relax myself and turned my attention back to the television.

“Reporter: How does Dog feel about his great-grandchildren?

Winter (smiles uneasily): Dog has never met the kids...I'm pretty sure that he hasn't met Leland or Duane Lee's youngest children either.

Reporter (clearly surprised): Seriously? But on his reality show, he always seemed like a loving, doting grandfather. It's hard to believe that he has grandkids that he's never met.

Dakota (stony look on his face): The reality of the situation is that Dog didn't play a huge role in my childhood...or the childhoods of my dad or uncle for that matter. Growing up, I saw him very infrequently, and when I did see him the cameras were almost always rolling to make him look good. The last time I spoke to my grandfather was in 2017. I remember because it was the same day that Winter and I got engaged. Dog and Beth spent most of the afternoon being very unkind to Winter and my stepmom, Jamie. Both are very sweet women who did not deserve to be treated badly simply because they fell in love with Chapmans and didn't fit Dog and Beth's image of a perfect Chapman wife. I can forgive, but I can't forget, and to be honest, in ten years, neither Dog or Beth has reached out to try and make amends.”

At this point in the interview, it's obvious that Dakota got a bit choked up. You see, he just couldn't wrap his head around his grandfather's behavior. In the last ten years, Dakota and Leland had grown closer than most father and sons. Dakota went to his when he needed advice or simply just to talk and vent. Leland had even been the good grandfather and paced the waiting room when I had been in labor with each of our three kids. He didn't even care that we made him a grandfather at forty-three. He proudly showed off pictures of Maverick, Scarlett, and Willa to anyone who was nice (and dumb) enough to say they would look.

My dad also fell into the proud grandfather category. Zane was to be his namesake and if he was proud of his grandsons, his granddaughters had him wrapped around their collective fingers.

Now that Dakota was a father himself, Dog's actions made even less sense to him. My husband couldn't imagine being estranged from any of our kids for any reason. He couldn't even go to bed at night unless he had checked in on the kids. He never left for work until he had hugged and kissed all three goodbye. Just like my dad and Leland, Dakota was an amazing father. Maverick was our oldest and only eight and I knew that, already, Dakota was terrified of sending him off into the real world in ten years.

As another Braxton hicks contraction that I was starting to suspect wasn't actually a Braxton hicks contraction ripped through me, I did my best to breathe and once again returned my attention to the TV. I knew that at this point in the interview I had stepped in for an upset Dakota.

“Winter: What matters most is that our children have loving grandparents and step-grandparents. They have a great aunt and great uncle who spoil them rotten. They have me and Dakota who would die for them. They are surrounded by love and acceptance. I said this once, what feels like a million years ago but I'll say it again...this group of Chapmans sticks together and that isn't going to change.”

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Dakota threw my earlier words back at me as another contraction hit. “Because I do, Luna.” He used the nickname that I had grown used to over the years. “You've given me the world – a happy marriage, beautiful babies. You're amazing, sweetie.”

His words were so sweet and I wanted to tell him how much they meant to me but another contraction hit just as I felt a gush of warm water between my legs.

“Dakota, baby, I love you too but I think Zane is finally ready to meet his daddy.”

FINIS

I want to say thank you to the following Tumblr readers: @alwaysdearie, @franceswells

Also thank you to my reviewers from other sites:

@emmaswan4real (wattpad), @HannahtheBanana1994 (wattpad), @JBJ1987SC (wattpad), @TheCurtainFalls77 (wattpad), @carlycorinthos (wattpad), @HerRoyalAsshat (wattpad), @LordMeyers1996 (wattpad), @LaceEmHonMi (wattpad), @mememe2005 (wattpad), @Waking-The-Fallen (mibba), @ComAPittSHorroR (mibba), @saiiax (mibba), @A7_girl21 (mibba)

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