#she took one look at Lassie and said 'i can fix him through the power of friendship'

[mytardisisparked]

I miss him (my best friend, Carlton Lassiter)

#i am actually Juliet OHara #spiritually #she took one look at Lassie and said 'i can fix him through the power of friendship' #and then she did #i love Psych

[curvynerdfan]

Bookkeeper and the Biker

Thank you @xx—day-dreamer—xx for requesting and being patient! This piece was a lot of fun to write but took forever, sorry about that. I hope you like it! 💕

Also sorry for the overload of samcro gifs lol! I just love when you find gifs that fit the storyline

Jax x Reader

Y/N felt like her heart was gonna jump out of her chest. She was headed home. Well, her hometown, she hadn’t been “home” in over ten years. Her dad was killed on a run when she was sixteen and her mom used the opportunity to get her out of Charming. Not that Y/N wanted to leave. She always saw the club as her family but her mom despised SAMCRO after her dad passed. Y/N thought her mom blamed the MC for her dad’s death.

Y/N had flourished in her time away from Charming but still felt like something was missing. So she was going back. Over the past ten years, Y/N had grown her skills and felt confident in her decision to come back.

She loved growing up in Charming. She could remember running around the autoshop with Jax and Opie, driving Gemma insane because it wasn’t exactly safe. The clubhouse took hide-n-seek to a whole nother level and family dinners were her favorite club activity.

She called Gemma about a year ago and the mama bear of the club was ecstatic. At that point Y/N had no plans to move back. She just missed the rest of her family. They reminisced and caught up on each other’s lives. Gemma let her know how the club was doing and Y/N kept her second mom up-to-date on her life.

At some point, Y/N mentioned that her dream life consisted of running her own eclectic bookshop and living above it. She never thought her dream would become reality but Gemma had other plans. A two story shop in downtown Charming popped up on the market and momma Gemma called Y/N before a sign was outside the building. Once Gemma sent her all of the pictures and told her the price, Y/N snatched it up. While she had some savings, the purchase price was being covered by money her dad had left her in his will.Plus, her association with the clube convinced the owner to lower the asking price. She was given access to the fund when she turned 25 and she couldn't think of a better way to spend her money than to pursue her dreams. She even had money left over to purchase books and some furniture for her new place without dipping into her own savings.

Gemma told her she could stay in a clubhouse dorm until her apartment was set up. She pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow and parked her car. Y/N felt the anxiety build and took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves.

“There is no reason to be nervous. It isn’t like you abandoned Jax or Ope. Hell, they may not even remember me, no biggie, no pressure”, she mumbled to herself, “Gemma invited you. No one goes against Gemma, right? And it’ll be nice to see my SAMCRO family. It’ll be great!” Y/N said, but she didn’t feel as confident as she sounded.

She opened the door and quickly stepped out before she could change her mind. Once completely out of the truck, she stretched her arm up high and arched her back. She grabbed her backpack and her duffle bag and locked up her truck before heading to the office to look for Gemma.

“Can I help you lassie?” A dark-haired Scotsman asked.

“Umm, yes please. I’m looking for Gemma.” she said.

“Ah, is she expecting you?” he questioned.

“Yes, you can just tell her Y/N is here.”, she clarified.

The Scotsman disappeared around the corner and Y/N took the time to take in her surroundings. Very little had changed. The Teller-Morrow signage was rusted and worn in some places, there was newer equipment It also looked there were members in SAMCRO than before based on the number of bikes parked in front of the clubhouse.

“Y/N! There you are baby!”, Gemma shouted as soon as she walked into the office.

Y/N couldn’t help but squeal when she launched herself at Gemma. They had always been close as she was growing up. Gemma taught Y/N how being a nerdy, tomboy didn’t mean that she wasn’t a beautiful badass too.

“Hey, momma.” she said when Gemma squeezed her tight.

Gemma leaned back to look her over and then kissed her cheeks in greeting before pulling Y/N out of the office and across the parking lot, ranting and raving about how great it will be to have a powerful woman back in Charming. Y/N just giggled and let herself be dragged around.

The momma bear had cleaned up a dorm for Y/N to have for however long she needed. While it still looked like a typical clubhouse dorm, there weren’t any posters of naked women or trash scattered around the room. There was also a gift basket of goodies on the bed for her.

Y/N hugged Gemma, “Thank you for going through all this trouble for me. I am happy to be home.”

“Not any trouble at all sweetheart. You’re not the only one happy that you’re back in Charming.I know Jax has been asking about you for a while!” Gemma said, nudging Y/N with an eyebrow raise.

Y/N’s face flushed, “Don’t start with that Gem! Neither one of us should get our hopes up.”, she mumbled.

Y/N has always been close to Jax and Opie but Jackson never fall into the brotherly category. She didn’t want to get excited about the idea of a relationship with Jax and possibly ruin the amazing friendship they have. Plus, she didn’t think she was his type. Gemma said he dated Tara for several years and was really hung up on her when she left. From what Y/N remembered, Tara was always snooty, looked down on the club, and had no desire to live a small town life.

“Baby, you know me, I wouldn’t lie to you. Jax has been head over heels for you from the get go. He kept asking if you remembered him, how you were doing, how he can help you find your place here. Hell, he stocked that top drawer over there with Reaper and SAMCRO shirts so anyone new knows you are important to us. I would wear one of those tonight if I were you!”, Gemma suggested, “Give him a chance before you close yourself off again”

Y/N nodded and decided not to argue when Gemma gave her that all knowing look. Gemma helped her unpack your bags before leaving the dorm. Y/N used the hours before the party to lay on the bed and order more materials for her shop. When she had about an hour before the party’s start time she decided to take a shower and get dolled up before joining the excitement.

After her shower, she rummaged through the drawer that was handpicked by Jax. Y/N ended up grabbing a black “fear the reaper” t-shirt, a pair of her ripped jeans and some old sneakers. Y/N knew better than to wear nice shoes to a SAMCRO party. Y/N decided to tie the t-shirt up so it showed a little bit of her mid-riff and enhanced her natural curves. She dried her hair and applied basic makeup before heading to the party.

Y/N weaved her way in and out of the crowd of club members, their old lady’s, croweaters, and wannabe bikers. She made it to the bar and ordered a double before making her way to Gemma. She was starving and knew the momma bear could direct her to the food.

“Damn babygirl! You are just trying to give these boys a run for their money huh?”, Gemma said approvingly, “Atta girl!”

Gemma fixed her up with a full plate and got her settled in with Tig and Piney. Y/N caught up with the guys and dug in on the delicious food Gemma cooked. All of the sudden to mammoth arms wrapped around her from behind and lifted her into the air.

“What in the world!”, Y/N squealed.

A hefty laugh was the only response she received before she was dropped back down onto her feet. She spun around quickly and then gasped.

“Opie!” her shout pierced his ears and he flinched.

“Damn, you still have pipes!”Ope exclaimed as he wrapped Y/N up in a hug.

Y/N and Opie spent the next thirty minutes talking about life and joking around. Opie knew she was moving back so it wasn’t a surprise, but it was finally true now that she was in front of him. He was going to get married soon and wanted her to be there on his special day. Y/N and Opie had always agreed on the simpler things in life. They wanted to find their person, fall in love, get married, have kids, and live in Charming surrounded by friends and family.

Y/N gave Opie a hug and promised to visit more. The noise was getting to her though, after such a long drive the party wasn’t really her scene. She made a quick stop at the ladies room before getting a refill at the bar.

Jax made his way through the party, greeting members and partygoers as he made his way to Opie. His friend had a massive grin on his face and Jax couldn’t help but laugh. It was rare for the giant man he thought of as a brother to look like a silly puppy.

“What has you smiling so big, brother?” he asked, looking over.

“Y/N” was Opie’s one word response.

“Where?”, Jax couldn’t hold back his excitement.

Opie laughed and reached out to physically turn Jax around. His best friend laughed even harder when Jax’s jaw dropped. She was stunning. Y/N was still the beautiful girl he grew up with but he could tell she was more confident and her curves had developed even more. She was wearing one of the shirts he had picked out for him. That caused an odd sense of satisfaction. Y/N got her drink from the bartender and made her way down the hall and away from the party, more importantly away from him.

Opie slapped his back, “What are you waiting for man? Go get your girl!”

Jax felt his cheek warm and shook his head before swaggering after her. At some point she drifted out of his sight. Jax wracked his brain for where she could have snuck off too. After checking her dorm and finding it empty, he realized where she was. He climbed the stairs but paused before opening the hatch to the roof. What was he going to say to her? He hadn’t seen her in almost ten years. His mom assured him that she would reciprocate his feelings but how do you tell your childhood friend you want to be more.

Y/N jumped when the hatch creeped behind her. She didn’t think anyone would find her up here, but if anyone could it would be Jax or Opie. To her surprise, it was Jax. ‘Dear lordy, he is even hotter now,ah and that clenched jaw oof’, Y/N shook her head to clear her mind.

“Jax, you found me.” She whispered in awe.

It was real now, she was really in front of him “Y/N… of course I found you.”, he said with a sigh.

“Wow! I mean, you look really good, umm, not that you have ever looked bad. Well i guess you look bad in the baddass biker MC VP kinda way, congrats by the way. You don’t look bad ugly, not that you have ever looked ugly, you still take my breath away. I am not some flustered sixteen year old anymore and,” Y/N paused awkwardly, “ Oh my god, that is not how I wanted this to go. It’s been such a long time.I’ve missed you and your mom said you missed me to but now I’m not sure because all you’ve done is stare at me so far, so maybe your mom was wron-” Y/N paused when lips were on hers.

She could feel Jax’s lips smirking against hers, “I missed you too”, he whispered before kissing her again.

Y/N hummed, pulling away from him, “That is the best way anyone has ever made me shut up”

She leaned against his chest before looking up at him again, “What does this mean, Jax?”

“Are you really staying this time?”, he asked.

Y/N nodded, smiling at the sheepish look on his face.

“Then, I want to make you my old lady someday. For now, we can just see how things go. I always pictured us ending up together, but I don’t want to force anything. Biker and a bookkeeper, who would’ve thought?” He smiled.

“I did”, Y/N grinned.

She pulled on Jax and had him join her on ‘their ledge’. He chuckled gently in her ear as he wrapped an arm around her. He couldn’t wait to see where this was going to go. The idea of the bookkeeper and the biker felt good.

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

#sons of anarchy imagine #request #jax teller #jackson teller #gemma teller #chibs telford #tig trager #opie winston #samcro #sons of anarchy #samcro imagine #sons of anarchy request #jax x reader #jax oneshot #momma gemma #big brother opie vibes #bookkeeper and the biker #my work

[soniabigcheese]

Dare and Double Dare

Inspired by this post and I'm not sorry

Thank you to @bonsaiiiiiii for the inspiration. Hope you like

A Scott and Havoc fic

*sigh* he tries so hard

It was a dare that she wished she hadn't offered. And ... she was now bitterly regretting it as she wiped beer from her chin (she wasn't a classy lassie who sipped on cocktails and other fancy drinks, Havoc was hardcore and beer was her thing).

The bartender tutted as he wiped the splatters from the mahogany surface. She could have apologised but ... nah. Besides, her attention was fixed on a certain smug looking Scott Tracy as he stepped up to the small stage and grabbed the microphone.

A cheeky wink in her direction, as well as finger guns - his way of telling her he got this - and he waited as the DJ shuffled the songs.

He didn't have a bad voice, pfft, he'd heard more that his fair share of music growing up, so he had an extensive knowledge of pop music over the years.

So yeah. He can do this.

Easy peasy

But then ... he froze as the opening notes blasted through the club and his confidence shattered.

Oh god no, not this song , not in front of her

The Numa Numa song continued playing and he swallowed hard, casting an unusually rare nervous glance at his date, propping up the bar.

Gulping, he took a deep breath and launched into singing.

Havoc, in the meantime, was barely able to hold in her laughter, her face turning crimson and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Well well ... the mighty Scott Tracy. Look at him now. Not so cocky after all.

In the meantime, the off duty field commander was hating every moment as he tried to sing this .. his most hated song of all times.

Gordon was so going to pay for this

Finally, after several excruciating minutes, the song finished. And he was rewarded with a round of applause, from the now inebriated crowd who were so drunk that they probably didn't care that he was out of tune ... and wishing the floor would open up.

Threading his way through the punters, face beetroot red, and doing his own personal 'walk of shame', he reached the bar where Havoc was sat. She was wearing a gleeful expression on her face. Which told him that she had now stored this humiliating experience away for a later date ... and was prepared to use it.

A whisky was waiting for him and he gulped it down in one go, thankful that she'd had the courtesy of buying it for him.

"Can we go now?" He muttered, shamefaced.

She smirked at him and slid off her stool.

"Nah," she responded, planting a wet kiss on his cheek, "the night's still young ... and I haven't had my turn yet."

As she sashayed away, Scott tugged his collar

Is it getting warm in here?

And activated his comm. John's voice came over.

"Sup Scott? Having ... er ... fun yet?"

"Hardly." Scott groaned, watching as Havoc grabbed the microphone and gave the DJ the thumbs up.

"Just been on the karaoke."

Silence, then a cough.

"Ah ... um ... sorry about that."

Scott blinked. Excuse me? Surely not?

"Gordon dared me," John continued, "he said that I'd have to endure grandma's cooking if I couldn't make you sing that particular song. And that's a risk I'm not willing to take."

Scott facepalmed and groaned. He should have known.

The bartender asked if he was okay and he said he was fine and ordered another whiskey.

Sod staying sober. He was going to get absolutely and thoroughly drunk out of his mind ... and deal with his brothers later on.

Just as he was about to sip it, Havoc launched into a power ballad ... and killed it effortlessly.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #havoc #karaoke night #the numa numa song #john tracy

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 5

Hello all, and welcome back to another exciting rendition of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Eda grumbled, shifting her weight as she hunkered through the crowds, King prowling along beside her. She despised the Night Market, as it was basically a physical embodiment of justification for Bonehead’s rule; hard to stand up against the person who’s keeping you and your family safe from scummy criminals selling shady and dangerous stuff, even by the standards of the Isles!! She snorted. If only those same people knew that Bonehead’s goons were perfectly aware of the Night Market and could shut it down and round up its proprietors whenever they liked, and kept it around BECAUSE it was a convenient, tangible justification.

“Ugh! This place smells like failure and backstabbing.” King complained, warily scanning the surroundings, a spell prepped and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

Eda huffed. “Yeah, but if this ‘Grimm Hammer’ guy has Curse-Suppression potions, I can’t afford to stay away.” And didn’t it burn that she had to deal with scum like this for her health? She liked Morton, he was a good kid, but DAMN if his habit of testing his products, particularly the dangerous ones, on himself wasn’t grating at times like this. At least when he did it before he still had something in stock for her to use until he got back in shape.

King nodded solemnly, by his standards at any rate. He glanced around, idly taking note of the various comers and goers wandering the market, all doing their best to stay at least partially inconspicuous; it was probably pointless, considering just how unique and diverse appearances could get on the Isles, but at least they were putting in the effort. ‘I wonder if this is how Lilith got that curse.’ King wondered, his temper boiling at the thought of Eda’s sister stabbing her in the back like that. Aloud, he said, “You think this guy will try and screw us over?”

Eda laughed bitterly. “Oh absolutely! But,” She added with a feral grin, “If he does, we can always wreck the place.” She and King cheered at the thought of destroying private property.

With a snort, Eda glanced over the directions Mort had given her, comparing it to the shop before her. It wasn’t anything really special, just a stand aiming to draw the eye and lighten suckers’ wallets, but it had the signs of wear and tear you only got from long-term use and dedication. The owner was probably a scumbag, true, but they were a scumbag with pride in their business and property. Raising an eye at King, and getting a raised eyebrow in return, the two headed inside. A tall figure landed onto the ground in a crouch behind them.

Odalia marched down the halls, burying her worry under maternal fury. This was absolutely unacceptable!! She could not believe Amity was acting so disgracefully, cutting her off like that! With a huff, she finally crossed into the room, primed and ready to start shouting, heedless of the damage her outburst would do to her daughter’s social standing, only to blink in numb surprise at the sight of the humans, Amity’s guard notwithstanding, now in the room. “Um, Mittens? What is going on?” She asked as diplomatically as she could.

Amity sighed, and what proceeded was another rapid-fire round of introductions between the group and Odalia. Odalia’s eyes sharpened at several key points, namely that Neon was an heiress, and had been granted guards as a result of her magic, important details. “So,” Odalia drawled, a calculating gleam in her eyes, “You mentioned that you gave predictions, Miss Nostrade?” She stated more than asked; as annoyed as she was at Amity’s antics (and it was definitely annoyance, absolutely nothing more), this was admittedly an opportune moment to gain a better look into Human Magic, particularly in an area of overlap such as Oracle magic and predictions.

“Yeah, it sounds super interesting!” Selena piped up, engaging in the conversation. “I LOVE Oracle Magic, so seeing how Humans do it is like Oracle Magic times two!” She cheered, scooching close.

“Okay, if you really want!” Neon agreed, oblivious to the sudden tensing of her guards. She quickly pulled out a sheet of paper and a cat-themed pen. “I just need your names, date of birth, and your blood type!” She hummed, a blissful grin on her face. Odalia and Selena blinked, but both complied, much to the interest of the others, save Luz who’d seen what was coming in action before. The group reared back, startled at the deep blue aura that surged up around Neon, her normally bright and clear eyes fading and turning glassy, like a doll. Her hand pulled back, a winged thing manifesting around it, intoning “Lovely Ghostwriter.” In a blur, Neon rapidly inscribed a series of poems upon the paper, her hand blurring across the page that they couldn’t make out the actual words she was writing down. Suddenly, her hand stopped, a total of eight stanzas composed before her on two seperate sheets, which she promptly handed over to the correct recipient. “And there you go!” She beamed.

“Wow, what do they say?” Skara asked, powering through the confusion and shock that had come over her at the sight of Neon’s spell.

“No idea!” Neon blithely replied, causing all the Witches to blink in shock, save Odalia and Selena, who were busy going over their poems.

Luz snorted at their surprise. “Yeah, Neon’s magic is totally involuntary after the activation point. She has no clue what she writes, isn’t aware that she was even writing until after the fact, and is physically incapable of reading whatever prediction she gives.” Luz clarified, admittedly relishing the looks of confusion she got in response.

“How does that even work!?” Amity asked, utterly bewildered. It was completely outside any known form of Oracle Magic, and she couldn’t help but notice the blanching faces of her mother and Selena.

Neon gave a pout, trying not to feel insulted at the slight at her skills. “Predictions are for the people, not for the predictor!” She childishly stated, huffing in displeasure.

They turned to Luz, a look screaming for an explanation upon their faces. “Hey, it makes as much sense to me as it does for you all.” She lightly protested. Seeing they weren’t convinced, she ultimately relented, clarifying, “I’m not sure why it turned out like that, but Neon is completely self-taught, but no one has ever said she’s not good at what she does.” She fixed them with a strong stare, almost daring them to question her. “Neon’s predictions always cover the month of when she gives them, offering insight as to what will happen later, with advice being given for dangerous or difficult moments coming up, and clarity as to what led to events that have already happened. And Neon’s predictions are always perfectly accurate to boot.” She sat back, letting that sink in.

Willow was the first to recover. “B-But that goes outside any known example of Oracle Magic!” She stammered, shock coloring her eyes. “Even the best Oracles have some level of failure or inaccuracy!”

Luz shrugged. “I don’t know what to say, but that’s never really applied to Neon.” The girl in question merely beamed in pride at that, puffing out her chest.

“Neon is the greatest! Ohohohohoho!” She cheerfully laughed, pulling one hand to her mouth in a look of haughty delight, only for Luz to playfully chop her on the head. “Ouchie!”

“Please don’t strike my charge again, Miss Noceda.” Kurapika sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, even as his fellow guards just snorted at the by-play between the two mages.

“Yeah, the lassy needs her brain intact, you know?” Basho called out, a cheerful smile on his face. He winced at the swift jab to his rib Baise gave him.

Baise snorted. “Maybe don’t insult our boss, idiot.” She drolly stated, arms crossed.

“I’ve honestly been wondering, but if you guys are guards for a mage, are you mages yourselves?” Gus asked, tone casual, if you discounted the notebook primed for writing held before him that is.

“Well, as a matter of fact, we are.” Kurapika cordially replied, showing the chains affixed to his hand, small steel rings linking a separate chain to each finger. “I myself employ Chain Magic, allowing me to manipulate and command my chains for a variety of effects.” He gave a mysterious grin. “Though, some of my best spells are unfortunately kept rather limited.”

“Huh, why is that?” Gus asked, furiously scrawling down the enigmatic blonde’s answer.

“Well, I won’t go into the specifics, but it is possible to augment one’s spells, particularly complex or unusual ones, by infusing them with limitations as to how and when you can use them, or giving them conditions as to when they can be activated.” Kurapika explained. “A solid example would be, say, creating a spell that would allow you to defeat a specific foe, and then altering the spell so it literally cannot be used on anyone but that foe. Doing so would make that spell all the more powerful and flexible to use, but only when it’s conditions are fulfilled.”

The Witches paused, staring in shock at Kurapika, whereas his fellow guards and Luz just looked at him in amusement. Luz shrugged. “He’s not wrong, but most mages don’t usually do that, unless their magic works best under specific circumstances to start with. It’s usually something found in more exotic forms of magic, or with people who are self-trained.” All the Witches carefully took note of that for later.

Willow cleared her throat. “And what about the rest of you?” She asked politely.

Tolico puffed out his chest, grinning. “Well my magic is almost ideal for bodyguard duties, and just for messing with people. Observe!” He cried, swinging his arm up, before clapping it against the ground. “Thankless Soldiers!” From the point of contact, a dark purple aura billowed up off the floor, flexing and morphing into the image of 12 dark figures in robes, standing at attention. “Now, you guys go outside and patrol the area, we don’t want any intruders, alright?” He stated, and the constructs moved out, silently and without issue.

“Wow! You can create soldiers to fight for you!?” Gus exclaimed, stars in his eyes.

“Yeah, but they’re fragile to any trained mage, can’t move very fast, and their only solid advantage is numbers.” Baise said, instantly taking the wind out of Tolico’s sails. Baise smirked at the pouting glare Tolico shot her. “As for myself… my magic isn’t something kiddies like you should learn about until you’re older.” She stated, the aimless leer on her face sending nervous shivers down the group’s collective spine.

“HA! My Haiku Magic allows me to compose poetry, and gain effects based on those poems by sacrificing them!” Basho proudly stated, crushing a tablet of paper in his fist, causing it to erupt in flames, to the awe of the crowd.

“My magic isn’t really anything special,” Squala stated bashfully, rubbing his head. “I can manipulate and command dogs, but not a whole lot else.”

“And I can create effects by playing my flute.” Melody added in a soft tone. The Witches pondered that briefly, but accepted it, not every form of magic was going to be out there and radically different from what they knew.

“W-What is this!?” Odalia whispered, drawing the group’s attention to her and Selena, who were both shuddering over the predictions Neon had given them. She whipped around, wild eyes staring at Neon, who cocked her head in confusion. She marched over, oblivious to the stares her actions were garnering from the group, and the level glares of Neon’s bodyguards, all prepped to intercept her. “Are you certain this is accurate!?” She demanded, almost rabid fear in her eyes, waving her prediction in emphasis.

“Hmm?” Neon made a questioning noise, uncomprehending? “What do you mean? Neon’s predictions are always right!” She huffed, confused and annoyed at the idea of her predictions being wrong. Didn’t this old lady know anything!? Whatever was written would happen, completely true! Silly old lady! ...Why was she still getting closer?

With a scowl, Odalia drew level with the childish girl, her temper and fear mixing into a recklessness-inducing cocktail. “Now listen here!” Odalia hissed, reaching out towards the girl, oblivious to the mounting anger of her guards, as well as the fear flickering in Neon’s eyes. “Do you have any idea-”

“Miss Blight.” Luz called out sharply, drawing the woman’s attention. Glancing around, she blanched at the scene; her daughter’s guests were staring at her in a mix of fear and disgust, while Amity and the Park girl were glaring at her in a mixture of disappointment and rage. Her daughter’s guard, the human girl, Luz, was watching her with a carefully blank face, idly flipping a glowing knife in between her hands. The Neon girl’s guards were preparing to attack her, she noted with dread, and when she turned her gaze back to Neon, she finally noticed the way she was trembling, along with the faint tears in her eyes. Flushing, Odalia quickly pulled away. “Oh my dear, I am so sorry, child! I-I have no idea what came over me-” Odalia hastily explained, twitching slightly.

“Save it.” Luz said flatly, subtly moving in between Neon and Odalia, and also between Odalia and Neon’s guards. “Don’t worry, people have reacted a lot worse to Neon’s predictions in the past, they just usually aren’t in the same room as her when they do so. I would recommend heading back to your husband for the night.” She ‘suggested,’ idly cocking her head to the still upset group surrounding them.

Odalia flushed, but didn’t argue. “I believe you are correct in that respect.” She gave a shaky bow. “I bid you all a good evening, and I hope the Conjuring goes well.” And with that, Odalia beat a hasty retreat, mind swirling over what to tell Alador.

Skara cleared her throat, wanting to dispel the tension in the air. “Well then! Unless I’m wrong, the Moon should be in position for the conjuring to start!” She said, forcing a note of cheer into her voice. The Witches grumbled, still tense after Odalia’s little scene, but no one argued, wanting to move on from the uncomfortable moment. Amity sent a worried glance towards Neon, who quickly waved it off after noticing the attention.

“Oh, go have fun! I’m fine!” She said, a shaky grin on her face. With a scowl, Amity relented, heading over to the others. Amity, Cat, Amelia, and Selena formed a circle of four, while Gus, Willow, Bo, and Skara formed another, each surrounding one of Amity’s old dolls. As they started chanting, the guards, Neon, and Luz watched on.

Kurapika turned an inquiring gaze towards Luz. “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Luz snorted. “Apparently, this is supposed to be a Lunar Ritual that animates an object through the magical power of the Moon.” She explained flatly, her blank face showing how good of an idea she considered that.

Tolico stared, his dumbfounded expression mirrored by his fellow guards. “Are… they insane?” He croaked out, even as Neon cocked her head, not understanding.

“From what I’ve seen, the Isles has a very loose understanding of safety and wellbeing, beyond healthcare.” Luz replied, staring off into the distance. She leaned up against the wall. “Plus, from what I can tell, the Ritual is pretty minor stuff, and some cultural drift has more or less shot it in the foot.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow, perplexed. “Hmm? What do you mean by that?” He asked.

Luz jerked a thumb at the ceiling, a smirk on her face. “The Ritual works by calling the power of the moon into the target through its Light, or at least that’s my understanding of how it works.” She gestured around. “Kind of hard to draw light into a target when all but a fraction of it ends up colliding with a building first.” Her smirk shifted into a thoughtful expression. “Although, it would probably be a different story if the house was possessed or merged with an animate existence; then the spell would probably just use the house itself as the target instead.”

Kurapika gave a wry grin. “I imagine you won’t be telling them until after they fail, correct?” He asked rhetorically, Luz’s mischievous laugh being all the confirmation he needed.

Luz, growing serious, sidled up next to Neon. “Hey, NeNe, you feeling okay?” She asked softly.

“Huh? Of course I am, LuLu!! She just got a little m-mad is all.” Neon said in what she must’ve thought was a reassuring tone of voice, a few alarms starting to go off in the heads of her guards.

Luz arched an eyebrow. “Oh? But you flinched when she reached for you.” She said, slowly sliding closer.

“T-That’s because I’m not used to people t-trying to hurt me ‘cause of my predictions!” Neon blustered, eyes shifting back and forth.

Luz eyes glistened. “Neon, show me your arm.” She said softly.

“Nono! I don’t wanna!” She cried, yanking away from Luz. Her guards glanced between themselves. Technically, they were required to do something, but if their and Luz’s suspicions were correct…

“NeNe, please. I can’t help if you don’t let me.” Luz said in as kind but as firm a voice as she could manage, gently trying to coax Neon close, worried she might scare her.

Hesitantly, fearful tears in her eyes, Neon allowed Luz to creep closer, and slowly pull back her sleeve. Luz did her best to keep from hissing at the sight. Neon’s arm was coated in bruises, blotchy and smeared, running the length of it, with a few looking as if they were cuts! Luz had a sinking feeling that Neon had many, MANY more all across her body. The tears flowing now, Luz glanced up to Neon’s sorrow-filled face, the image of burning rage branded across her guards’ faces in the background. “How long has this been going on?” She said softly, trying to keep Neon calm.

“S-Since *Hic!* m-my-y 11th birthday.” Neon confused, hiccups breaking up her words as tears started spilling out. “I-I d-don’t know-w w-why he *Hic!* keeps getting m-m-mad! I try to b-be a g-good-d girl, b-but he k-keeps getting angry!” Neon cried, her tears staining hers and Luz’s shirts. “I-I just want P-papa to be happy, but I can’t! A-and he gets mad, and hurts me… is something wrong with me?” She asked, almost begged, as snot started bubbling up from her nose, her face covered in red blotches of tears.

“No.” Luz stated firmly, tightly pulling Neon into a fierce hug, pressing the sweet girl’s face into the crook of her neck, uncaring of the snot and tears that would end up staining the outfit. It didn’t matter nearly as much as the hurt girl in her arms. “You did NOTHING wrong. He’s your father, the man who’s supposed to raise you, to protect you, and he betrayed that. He’s the one with something wrong with him. Not you… never you.” With that, what little self-control Neon had kept vanished, and she pulled fully into Luz’s embrace, tears surging as she silently wailed into her friend’s clothing.

‘She feels… like Mama’s hugs.’ Neon thought to herself.

‘She feels… so fragile.’ Luz wondered at the feeling of the delicate girl clinging to her, previously in joy… but this time in sadness and heartbreak. Luz’s thoughts shifted into rage. ‘If I EVER see her bastard father again… he’s not walking away.’

As Neon cried, Luz turned to her guards, mindful of supporting Neon’s weight while she did so. “So… what’s the plan?” She asked, fully prepared to rip the group apart if they were even considering bringing Neon back to that man.

The guards exchanged glances, before nodding in unison. Kurapika stepped forward. “We are not letting Mr. Nostrade getting his hands back on Miss Neon.” He said gravely, his voice brooking no argument. “We all accepted this job knowing it would bring us into contact with unsavory individuals, and that we may end up being required to do rather horrible things. But we all have lines we will never cross; enabling an abuser is one of them.” He stated, the other guards nodding in agreement behind him.

“The fact that our contract states that we’re supposed to be protecting the lassy from anything wanting to harm her just adds extra incentive.” Basho said, giving a humorless laugh. “We never expected that meant keeping her safe from her own father!” His grin shifted, showing all teeth. “We let the little miss down, ignoring the signs. If that piece of trash even comes near her, he dies.”

“Good.” Luz said flatly, turning a tender look towards Neon, who peaked her head up. “Hey, NeNe? You mind answering a question?”

“Okay.” Neon said timidly, cuddling up against Luz’s side. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, why did you come to the Isles?” Luz broached.

“Because… I didn’t want Papa to find me. I wanted to go somewhere he could never take me back.” Neon said softly, glancing away. “I wanna live like a normal girl. I wanna have friends.” Tears started pricking her eyes again. “I want to wake up, and see sunshine.”

Luz gave a heartbroken smile, clutching the girl tighter. “Don’t worry, you will.” She pulled Neon tight again. “I swear it.” She whispered to herself.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #luz noceda #odalia blight #amity blight #gus porter #willow park #neon nostrade #kurapika #squala hunter x hunter #tolico #baise hunter x hunter #basho hunter x hunter #melody hunter x hunter #skara the owl house #amelia the owl house #selena the owl house #cat the owl house #bo the owl house #magic

[mythriteshah]

Valide’s Vow

Several turns of the sun have passed since the first appearance of that strange arctic occurrence in Thavnair’s jungles.  There have been sightings and reports all around the region of similar happenings: glaciated waterways; rime-encrusted shrubs and small spires of ice which glistened like crystals beneath the moonlight, all wrapped up in a beautiful spectacle of snow and frost.

Though these were ephemeral, and would not last longer than a bell’s worth, the Near Eastern natives and tourists alike who came upon these sites beheld them in awe.

Yet as they would remain in the immediate area to bask in this irradiant scenery, their hearts and minds were overwhelmed by feelings of sadness – of longing and loss – so powerful that some knelt to tears at the stark beauty of it all.  These indelible waves of emotions moved even the dancers of Radz-at-Han’s troupes, yet they would find themselves hard-pressed to properly move, attempting to use these areas as backdrops for their performances.

Even the Kreigstanz’s efficacy was suppressed.

What was the cause of this breathtaking yet mystifying sight?  Where next would it arise?  Even the Angels of the Regalia were investigating these events, while others kept the looming threat of the Telophoroi at bay across the realm. For now, however, there was peace within Radz-at-Han, and the sun would begin to set over the land. 

Within the Regalia’s Main Branch Headquarters, Thiji Higuri sat upon his usual sofa, garbed in his exclusive Wamoura robe as he silently watched the Near Eastern sun fall over the horizon.  Nestled across his lap was a claymore made from pure mythrite he had brought over from the Aldenard Branch.  His fingers ran along the cool metal of the blade, staring down at the engraved statement as though he were in a trance.

“As long as you make it out of a battle alive, you are one step closer to fulfilling your dream…”

The words echoed in his mind, along with his memories of the past – some glorious, and some painful. Nyra, who had been perched atop the back of the sofa, was resting her eyes before she heard footsteps approaching behind them.  Her master was too engaged with his mulling to even acknowledge it until he would see another hand resting upon the hilt of the claymore.  Thiji lifted his head upwards to find his mother, Lady Mimizo, grinning with a tall glass of Winter Lassi ready for him.  He could never deny a glass of cool lassi, and eagerly took it, as his mother quietly removed the blade from his lap, resting it against the sofa with the blade down.  She sat next to him, taking another glass from the end table before taking a few sips of her own.

“Your generosity is boundless, my son,” she opened. “How are you faring after the Largesse?”

He was silent.  Not because he did not have an answer for her, but because he did not know how.  But Mimizo knew her son well, and could easily persuade him to speak his mind.  She reassured him with a soft hand upon his, staring directly at the Mythrite Sultan. “Naught but us are here, my beloved son. Do not be afraid.”

“Not afraid, Mother,” he began.  “I am merely… tired.  This realm always has problems arising, and despite all the efforts these ‘adventurers’ keep expending to stave them off, I had not dared to believe that things would soon arrive at our doorstep.  Our non-aggression pact with Garlemald maintained our neutrality between it and the other continents, and we flourished immensely as a result… Now the same sick drama unfolds again, and all the realm faces conflict.”

“And we will see it through together!” Mimizo stated.  “Yes, you may have hung up the mantle of adventurer, but that means naught.  You are still more than capable of defending our home without bearing such a title.  And perhaps this is all a sign!  You may have kept your edge sharp with your secret training, but perhaps it is now time to show Hydaelyn what the new and improved Mythrite Sultan can do.”

Thiji sighed, reclining in his seat as he took another long sip of his lassi.  He wasn’t in the mood to go charging into battle and felling scores and scores of whomever or whatever was unfortunate enough to stand in his path of carnage. Thiji may have enjoyed the life of battle and glory for a time, but that was behind him. He is now the head of one of Eorzea’s most prominent providers of the gemcraft and textile industry, not to mention one of its foremost fashion empires.  And just recently, he has essentially become a beacon of generosity and goodwill thanks to their Fourth Annual Largesse, which had just concluded not even a sennight ago.

“New?  Improved?  Perhaps…” he spoke.  “… But I don’t wish for that life again – stamping out primal incursions and the occasional onslaught of ravenous beasts; delving into parts unknown to pacify the surrounding area… Such stress would only accelerate my aging; my ice blue and silver white tresses would turn grey before I even reach thirty.”

And even if he did return to the forefront, a thought lingered in his head – more painfully irksome than any obstacle he has thus far faced.  He needed to finish the remainder of his lassi in order to get it out, however…

“And what of my dream, Mother…?  What of that?”

Mimizo paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder to inspect the claymore with Nyra.  She then placed her glass on the table and scooched closer to her son.  Thiji’s gaze remained fixed to the setting sun, his eyes welling up with tears, which made Mimizo’s motherly instincts kick in.

“Oh, Thiji… Let it out, my son,” she cooed, comforting him with an embrace only a mother could give. He did not sob, but silent tears did indeed fall from his smooth face, and Mimizo did her best to dry them, not wanting to see her firstborn’s face marred so.  “The dream you so cherished is a beautiful one indeed.  There is nothing nobler and purer than fighting to protect someone you love so dearly.  And when you return from the peril – when you emerge victorious amidst the ashes – your dearest is there, welcoming you back with open arms.  Even when the entire world was against her, you stood your ground – just like the knight did in the play.”

“But I am no knight, Mother,” Thiji replied with his head lowered.  “I don’t even have a sorceress… All my aspirations – all my desires – ‘twas all weighed upon realizing that romantic dream.  I pursued this for so many winters in a desperate bid to uphold the title of Sorceress Knight, only to be shunned again and again by the cursed Lover and Spinner both.  What am I now?”

“A man with nothing to lose,” Mimizo quickly answered, as if she had waited to say that for many moons. “There are many things in this realm to be feared, and one of which is a son of man who has seen much, been dealt enough cruel hands, and endured numerous hardships.  You became a Dark Knight after what transpired in Coerthas, and from there you channeled your emotions into a weapon.  You were younger then, but now those same feelings have been honed – refined into something deadly. You have tamed it, Thiji, and now you can control it into a power far greater than what you’ve wielded thus far.”

The lamenting Sultan looked past her mother to see the object beside the end table - the picture his niece and nephew drew of him holding hands with the Sultana of his dreams. It was a reminder that somewhere, she was out there, waiting for him… somewhere.

“Your heart is enormous and golden, my son.  Those who are the most gracious and kind are the loneliest; those who are the most downtrodden always wear the brightest smiles, and those who are the most damaged and broken… are the wisest.  This is nothing to be ashamed over – it is a universal truth.  Your sorrow… your grief… your loss… your longing... you’ve made it into something beautiful, and it stands before you to this day: the Regalia. Your Angels would agree, as would your father.  Your dream of becoming a Sorceress’s Knight is not dead.”

Nyra flew down and perched herself atop Thiji’s head, reassuring him with a nod.  “Even Nyra is with you, as is Glacius,” Mimizo added.  He still seemed unsure about that statement, given how long he has been without a Sultana.  Some people were even referring to him jokingly as the “Mythrite Bachelor” for arguably being one of the longest-running single nobles in the realm.  Little did Thiji know, however, that his mother would have plans for him in the coming summers.

Moments later, they would receive a ring from his linkpearl.  Thiji had immediately regained his composure as if nothing had ever happened over the past few minutes, answering the call while Mimizo listened in.

“My Sultan!  It’s Sesena!  We just spotted a sizeable army of Voidsent bombs approaching from the south!  We’re holding them off at the beachhead, but they seem to be attracted by all the ambient aether from these weird ice sites!”

“Or it’s probably due to the fact that the Moonfire Faire’s coming early…” Sosona joked.  “We’re not sure who or what’s leading them, but we know they’re close if they appearing in such numbers.”

“Ensure they are contained within the southern beachfront; if any of our native warriors are present, support them as necessary,” Thiji ordered.  “I will join you anon.”

“Yes, My Sultan!” Sesena and Sosona replied before ending the transmission.  Thiji’s countenance became one of tranquil fury as he jumped from his sofa to obtain the claymore, only to be stopped by a soft hand to his forearm.

“No,” his mother said sternly with a shake of her head.  Her son arched a brow, questioning Mimizo’s actions.  Then, she would lift the folds of her outer robe to reveal a pair of bladed fans that were holstered at her waist.  The Mythrite Sultan’s eyes widened upon acknowledging its appearance, meeting his mother’s gaze with a slight head shake.

“They’re not ready for this, Mother,” Thiji said in defense.

“Precisely, Thiji,” Mimizo immediately replied, “which is all the more reason for you to make them get ready.  Victory in battle is important, but so is making a statement. You, my first and greatest son, who has helped bring our slogan and motto into prominence, have all the capabilities to show our enemies why they should never cross the Regalia or the Near East’s finest.  Show them your true power, Thiji.”

He hesitated.  Thiji always tried his hardest not to reveal his well-guarded secret that was his redoubtable skill as a dancer.  However, there was no reason to fear, for the enemy was at his doorstep, and the only ones who would bear witness to his performance were natives of the Near East.  Realizing this, he sighed away his doubts and turned away from his mother, making his way to the dresser where he would begin donning his dancer attire: a shirt-and-sarouel combo, with babouches to match. After checking his nails for any blemishes or marks, he nodded to his reflection before Nyra provided the finishing touch: the blue hydrangea corsage, which was nestled right above his left ear.  Once his transformation was complete, he eagerly took the fans from Mimizo, who was grinning from ear to ear.  Grasping one in each hand, they gave off a soft hum, pulsing an icy blue as it resonated with his aetherial signature.  Thiji then flicked his wrists, unfolding them as they released tiny particles of frost from their bladed tips, beholding the majesty of these weapons for but a brief moment before folding them once more.

Mimizo approached her son and cupped his face with her hands before giving him a loving smile.

“Now you are most rightfully equipped, Thiji,” she spoke.  “Embrace your sorrow.  Accept it, and bring the beauty of winter to your friends and foes.  Steal their hearts; make them weep; leave them breathless. Everyone has their part to play, and you’ve been on an intermission for far too long.  And now the stage is set, my son.  Your finest hour awaits.”

With empowered resolve and vigor, Thiji holstered the fans at his waist and left the chambers.  Nyra flew in close after him as he would then begin to call for Glacius and his mate, Suki, to carry him into battle. And as the Mythrite Sultan would vacate the Main Branch Headquarters and the city-state proper, Mimizo watched silently as he disappeared into the jungle thicket, her brows furrowed in determination.

“Thiji… whether it comes a moon from now, or two summers hence, I swear that, on my title as Valide Sultan, you will have your dream restored; you will have your Sultana…”

“I swear it.”

#thiji higuri #Higuri Regalia #short story #thavnairian #hannish #radz at han #thavnair #Lalafell #lalafell master race #sorceress knight #dancer #winter

[jack-andthestalk]

Our Son, Arc II, Sunrise, Chapter 4.

Firstly a huge thank you to @missclairebelle who listened to my weird legal ramblings and made good on them, also for her shouty DM's and encouragement on this chapter, her talent is phenomenal across the board. @balfeheughlywed's feedback is so astute, and her support on this fic has been amazing and I just love the bants with her. This Arc is testing me and I was struggling to write anything for a while but I seem to have found a rhythm and that is partly thanks to @ladyviolethummingbird and @laythornmuse writing tips. So thank you!

A horrible feeling of bubbling nausea swirled relentlessly around in my tummy. Jamie's defeated face fixed on me, waiting for a reaction. Any words that were likely to come from my mouth would be so full of venom, that I dared not open it. Not to protect Jamie, it was to stop me sharing anything of my reaction.

   "I wouldna leave you for anything Claire" Jamie's eyes beseeched mine, “I had no choice”.

  I couldn’t look, wouldn’t let myself meet his eye.

    I had inhaled his every word since he woke me an hour before. A lot of it was things I had already known from what Jenny had explained. Right up until the end, when he came to that bit I knew it was bad before he started.

  Jamie seldom cried, maybe when Willie was born? I thought absently, apart from that I couldn't think of another time. Now standing on our cold cement door step, as the sun mounted the sky, he pinched his eyes to stem tears from streaming down his face, his cheeks stained with the ones that had already escaped.

  I couldn't muster one ounce of sympathy for him, it scared me, complete detachment. My brain was protecting my heart allowing me just numbness for a moment or two.

  It gave me the chance to look at him, really look at him as if he was another person's partner. What advice would I give my friend if she had moved herself and her son from their home thousands of miles to set up a life with someone she loved deeply, the father of her child, only to arrive and have he tell you that he actually was moving hundreds of miles away to run another business?

   I knew that I would tell her to pick up whatever dignity she had left and run, run, run.

  Thoughts of Willie fleeted through my addled brain. How would I tell him? When would we leave?

  “How long?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t speak and I felt the rage boiling in me again, this time now through gritted teeth,

“how fucking long Jamie?”

  He sniffed and cleared his throat, "two years as long as it takes to finish it."

“And how long until you go?”

“Claire” he whispered imploringly.

"I need to prepare Willie," I said briskly, ignoring his plea.

“Ten weeks.”

A nod and I was on my feet, brushing myself down. ”Ok”

“Where are ye going?”

“I am not sure,” I replied distractedly looking out at the vast amount of hills and fields I could wander through.

 Jamie rose to grab me back. “Alone Jamie, leave me alone.”

______________________

Four hours later with bleak black clouds hovering over me, I found myself at the stables, watching Brian brush down a great big stallion. Methodically covering each inch of the horses back with long even strokes.

  He swung around when he heard me approach.

"Just me” I said meekly, wrapping my arms around my waist, suddenly feeling the cold.

  Brian's startled expression softened instantly and he looked at me with utter sympathy causing tears filled my eyes abruptly. "Thank god, are ye alright?"

  A nod, while I stunk my teeth into my bottom lip. “Fine”.

    “He has been out looking for ye twice lass, his temper is frayed enough, I thought he might kill someone if ye dinna return to him soon.

    I snorted, but the downturn in my lips made it appear more of a sneer, "when I do go, I won't be leaving on foot", my tone was biting, and I regretted at once using it on Brian but the regret quickly waned when I pictured them all knowing, they knew before me and did nothing. Fuck them all.

  Brian's face creased in pity, I couldn't bare it. I turned to leave again not sure of where I would go. "Claire I ken ye are hurting ..."

  My voice was brisk now "Brian if it’s all the same to you...I don't want to..."

  His hand was firm yet gentle on my shoulder as he turned me, "ye have every right" he said softly. Jamie feared it most of all that it would hurt ye, lassie, ye were his only care, I can promise ye that."

  A dense lump climbed up my throat, painfully reminding me that if I spoke it would unleash a sob instead of words. I placed the flat palm of my hand to my forehead but it was too late, tears were coming again. It was as if my eyes were so practiced at it they couldn't stop. I tried breathing in and out deeply, in the hope of bringing back some calmness. Suddenly I could feel Brian's arms folding me into him, holding me to his chest. "Ach Claire...dinna weep a leannan."

  That was all it took before big rasping sobs escaped my chest and vibrated against Brian's.

  He held me for some time before he gently guided me over to a hay bale and beckoned me to sit, handing me a tissue.

  "Claire I dinna ken how much the lad told ye, and I dinna want to make things worse, but I hate to see the two of ye hurting...and I ken Jamie is too"

He looked down at his hands shamefully, "he might even feel worse because it's his fault", sighing deeply, trying to summon up words that could make things a whole lot worse or in the vien hope it might ease some of the pain. "having my own hands soiled in this sorry affair brings me nothing but shame too." he said quietly.

  I put my hand over Brian's hand, "It's not your fault" I whispered.

  He shook his head avidly, "I should have checked the contract with him, he was under such pressure...I shouldha kent."

  I couldn't follow the jumble of words falling from his mouth.

  I turned to him now, my brows creased "From the beginning" I said firmly.

  A long intake of breath, Brian rubbed his hands nervously up and down his thighs, after tapping his fingers lightly against his thigh for a moment or two, he began to speak slow halting words, "Jamie was trying to secure a deal” hands upturned now in demonstration…he dinna say it but I kent he wanted it for our pensions", another nod and he swallowed "mine and Ellens".

  "Since my accident, the lad has been very firm in that he wanted me to retire properly, have a life outside of here, ya ken?"

  I bobbed my head receptively, suddenly needing someone to fill in the gaps that I wouldn’t allow myself to ask Jamie. A red mist had blocked any further need for information.

  "When the Dunsany's offered him the contract to buy exclusively from Lallybroch...well we thought it too good to be true", "I shouldha fucking known that spineless bastard Dougal could only bring harm on us" he hissed, throwing a piece of straw he had been playing with forcibly to the ground, standing abruptly he began pacing over and back in front of me, temper subdued enough so he could continue. "Jamie saw it as a way to secure Lallybroch's future and allow Ellen and me a healthy pension to retire on. 

  They offered us a large amount of money to secure the right to exclusively buy any stock that was bred and raised here at Lallybroch. If there was stock, they had a need of, and  we dinna have it here, the contract included provisions for Jamie to buy on their behalf, train the animal and sell it on to the Dunsany's."

  Another slight tilt of my head acknowledging my understanding. 

  Brian ran his hands along the edge of a stable door, pausing over grooves with his long fingers considering. "They drew up the contracts a few months ago, but Jamie held off on signing…it was something he was thinking on. Then the stud got that virus, the poor lad was day and night with them, trying to keep the infection at bay. He missed yer birthday on the head of it.

  "I remember," I said hoarsely.

  “He returned from his last trip to Boston, and he had decided he would sign”.

   Brian looked imploringly at me now.

  "We were still reeling from nearly losing all our livestock if it hadna been for Jamie’s quick thinking…” he trailed off, and smiled meekily at me “for the first time we realised just how vulnerable we were…" He tilted his head shyly ", and I know now that Jamie had asked ye to marry him on that trip…so the lad had his plans too."

   My heart fluttered in my chest, and fresh tears slid down my cheeks. So much hope and now it was snuffed out. Thinking of the stress, Jamie must have been under yet he flew to me in Boston proposing during it all. My thoughts must have been apparent on my face because Brian's face softened "it puts things in perspective lass, Jamie was fair desperate to see ye."

  I wiped a stray tear from my face. "That is when Jamie signed the contract," he said sorrowfully, "When he came back from Boston" Brian pressed his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head dejectedly.

  "There was no reason to think the worst of them...it all seemed above board”.

"This trip was just to iron out the specifics, work out what stock they would need over the coming months, talk to them about what Mares were in foal, breeds, that kind of thing,"

Brian ruffled the thick black hair on top of his head, and it struck me how not only alike Jamie was to him but Willie too, absently thinking the Frasers had strong genes. "Then last night they turned around and said they wanted Jamie to oversee this big expansion at Hellwater!”

  My mind suddenly was in the drawing room watching this nightmare unfold, and I idiotically could see Geneva Dunsany, leering gleefully in a corner because she knew all along they had this trick up their sleeve.  

      Brian's foot started tapping agitatedly, "Jamie refused outright…said there was no way, and then they drew their sword." He finished bleakly.

My heart started hammering fast in my chest, I hadn't let Jamie explain earlier, he had looked at me, eyes empty and said "they have the power to shut us down if I dinna go Claire", I hadn't cared then what justifications he thought he had.

  To up and leave after I had given everything up to come to be with him. He had never been able to leave before when I needed him.

   I didn't want to hear it from Jamie, but now in the cold light of day and Brian's sad face before me, I had to learn the full truth whether I wanted to or not.

  "There were small clauses built into the contract Jamie signed; what he thought were insignificant details, they are using them against us Claire."

I opened my mouth to ask, had he not sought legal advice? could we fight these contracts?  The resignation of Brian's face somehow told me there was little hope for any of that.

     Brian sat down beside me again, putting his big hand over mine, “He has a huge talent, clever man when it comes to farming, horses, even business..but Jamie has a kind heart…he never wouldha thought that people would be capable of being so underhand.”

  "What are the clauses?" my voice sounded cold, I didn't mean it. I was trying to protect myself from something, and I wasn't even sure what.

“The Dunsany’s have exclusive rights to buy our stock, and they may take up to 180 days to decide if they want them and are entitled to the first refusal." They made it clear that if Jamie decided not to go to Hellwater, they would apply that right on every horse they look at. Even though last night they told us it would be their intention not to buy any. It means we wouldna be legally allowed to pursue another sale…for some time."

  Brian's head bent slowly, and he appeared for the first time as if he might breakdown himself. "the second clause is we canna sell within 200 miles of Hellwater Claire. They effectively can make it so we willna be able to sell our stock to anyone that could offer us a competitive price and by the time ye take in the delay they can impose on such a sale…well ye may as well close us down now.”

Brian’s head dropped and he clasped his hands together “I ken ye are angry with him and it willna help him for me to say this to ye but Ellen and I dinna want him to give into them…”

He sat up straight now, pride in his voice when he spoke again “Jamie isna an ordinary man, he was born to lead, and he saw hundreds of years of work by our kin about to be robbed by those bastards, and I knew we could argue all night, it wouldna mattered, he will sacrifice himself to help us.”

I said nothing, the stillness in the stables, grew thick.

    Brian's choked voice broke the silence, "It kills me, my son has to do this Claire…I would do anything so he mightn't have to but he willna leave us without a home or business, and we canna persuade him otherwise."

  I wiped the dust from my thighs and stood up.

   "I am so sorry a Leannan" he said quietly.

  I squeezed Brian's shoulder as he stood, pulling me to him and embracing me without another word. "We will be yer home still?” his face searching mine. I realised that they had just got used to the idea of Willie living here.

“I don’t know…Jamie doesn’t even know how often he is likely to be able to get home…and I would never go to him there…not now especially." I replied flatly.

  It was only then I heard rustling behind me that I realised Jamie stood watching me with hollow eyes, taking in the sight of my red and tear-streaked face and his father's arms around my shoulders comforting me, something I hadn't allowed him to do.

#outlander fanfic #ourson

[betweensceneswriter]

Second Wife-Chapter 15: By the Ballocks

Second Wife Table of Contents

Second Wife on AO3

Previously -  Chapter 14 : The Crowded Bed Two is company. Four is a crowd.

“There’s men as are sensible,” she said to me, with a wicked smile, “and beasts as are biddable. Others ye’ll do nothing with, unless ye have ’em by the ballocks. Now, ye can listen to me in a civil way,” she said to her brother, “or I can twist a bit. Hey?” (Outlander 588).

     “Daddy…Daddy…Da!!” The voice got progressively louder, until finally Jamie woke from his sleep. He opened one eye first. He had been sleeping on Jenny and Ian’s couch, and there was a patch of spittle left on the brocade where he must have been sleeping with his mouth open.

    “I’m an old man!” Jamie grumbled, his voice still gritty with sleep. “Snorin’ and droolin’!”

    Joanie laughed as he sat up, and came close to him to smooth out his hair and retie his queue. “Yer hair looked fair awful!” she giggled. “But I fixed it.”

    “Now, wee lassie, why are ye wakin’ yer father from his deep slumber?” Jamie rubbed his eyes, feeling ridges in the skin of his cheek. The pattern on Jenny and Ian’s couch was now imprinted on his face. Wonderful.

    “I want to go swimming in the mill pond,” she said. “But Ma said I canna go alone. Would you come watch me?”

    “But wee one, ye didna bring any extra clothes for swimming,” Jamie said.

    “That’s not stopping Ian, Michael, Janet, and Marsali,” she said, pouting. Jamie’s eyes widened.

    “What do you mean, Joanie?” Jamie asked, attempting to keep his voice calm.

    “They took their clothes off to go swimming,” Joanie announced confidently.

    Jamie stared at her, his forehead wrinkled. Then he jerked alert, startled, realization flooding his features. “Joanie, where’s yer ma?”

    “She’s upstairs, sleepin',” Joan answered. “Or, she was until I asked her if I could go swimming.”

    “But she went back to sleep after ye left her room?”

    “No,” Joanie responded reassuringly, shaking her head and frowning. “When I told her I didna need a swimming costume cause Marsali, Michael, and Ian weren’t wearing any, she woke up. And she said, ‘Go get yer da,’ so I figured she wanted you to help me swim.”

    “Oh, Christ,” Jamie swore, pulling on his boots as quickly as he could.

    “What’s wrong?” Joan asked, concerned. Jamie generally tried not to swear around the girls.

    “If Marsali is swimming wi’ boys wi’out her clothes on, yer ma is going to kill first her and then me…Or first me and then her.” He shook the last remnants of sleep out of his head, grabbed a large blanket, and headed quickly towards the mill.

    In the years since Jamie lost his shirt on the water wheel, Ian and the boys had excavated a large area below the mill which they had turned into a pond, for a reservoir. They used the power of the mill to pump some water to the grain fields, and it assured them a water supply in case of drought. Of course, it was Scotland, so that was rare. The children liked to use the mill pond for refreshing on hot days, or just to amuse themselves. Today fell into the amusement category, as it was May, and the sky was still gray and overcast.

    Jamie muttered to himself as he approached the mill pond. Looking ahead, he could see black and golden heads of hair, both on women’s bodies, wearing skirts and shawls. Jenny. . .and Laoghaire. For a moment, he considered turning around and heading back to the house. Jenny could oversee her own children; Laoghaire could take care of Marsali.

    But remembering Laoghaire’s reaction to Marsali starting her courses, he realized it would be cowardly of him and more traumatic for Marsali for him to stay away.

    “Ian Murray, Michael Murray!” Jenny was exclaiming sharply. “Get out of the water this instant!! What on earth are you thinkin'?” The boys were pulling themselves out of the water, cupping their hands around their ballocks and arses. Jenny sharply swatted each of them on the side of the head as they skittered past her to the piles of clothing on the rocks by the gravel entry to the pond. Jamie stretched the blanket out like a curtain and stood between the boys and the pond as they hastily tried to pull shirts and breeks on over wet skin. He told them with his eyes and eyebrows, no words needed, that as soon as they were dressed, they’d better make themselves scarce.

    “Thanks, Uncle Jamie,” said Ian, making a face.

    “Aye, thanks Uncle,” Michael agreed.

    “We didna do anything,” feisty Janet insisted to the indignant mothers as the boys dashed away over the grassy fields toward Lallybroch in the distance. She and Marsali were still huddled shoulder-deep in the water. “The lads turned their backs to let us get in first, and then we looked away for them. Ye canna see far in the water. We thought you’d prefer it to us getting our clothing all wet.”

    Jamie could see, from the tight set of Laoghaire’s lips, that Janet’s explanation was not adequate.

    “Shall we let the girls get out?” Jamie asked. “I can turn my back, Jenny, and you and Laoghaire can hold the blanket to give the lassies a place to dress. I dinna want them to catch their death of cold just because you’re angry at them.” He handed off the blanket and turned his back, shaking his head. Lassies were so much more complicated than lads, that was for certain. Of course, he wasn’t convinced that Ian and Michael would have kept their end of the bargain. He knew he’d seen Jenny a time or two as a teenager. Education, he figured. Living on a farm you saw a lot more than just private parts. It wasn’t a perfect education however, he considered ruefully, remembering a young man with some misconceptions needing to be kindly corrected on his wedding night.

    After attempting to squeeze any extra water out of their hair, the girls dressed, and the five headed back to the house. He’d warned Joanie to find something else to do. He imagined there’d be some heated discussions on their return.

    When they entered the house and found their way into the front parlor, Marsali and Janet huddled next to each other on one couch, and Jenny, Laoghaire, and Jamie sat on the other one, facing them. Jamie noted that Laoghaire was already starting to sniffle.

    “Where are the lads?” Janet snipped. “We arna the only ones to blame.”

    “No doubt they’ll have their own sort of consequence later,” Jamie said. “Ian and I will discuss it.”

    “Janet already told you,” Marsali said, stubbornly lifting her chin. “We chose to swim this way to save wash, and it wasna a problem. We didna do anything wrong.”

    “The boys didna touch you, Marsali?” Laoghaire asked, obviously speaking over a sizeable lump in her throat.

    “Ma!” Marsali exclaimed. “Ye dinna think I’d do any such thing wi’ my cousins, d’ye?”

    “Nor me, wi’ my brothers?” Janet piped up. “Other than that I’ve seen them nekkid since they were wee little things.”

    Jamie raised a finger, seeking permission to speak. “I will say, Janet, that yer bodies are not the same as when ye were wee little things. A time comes when it isna right for boys and girls to be in each other’s company nude!”

    Laoghaire had started quietly weeping. Jenny and Jamie met each other’s eyes in confusion.

    “Laoghaire,” Jamie said. “I dinna think ye need to worry. When Jenny and I were children, if I wasna listening to her well enough, she would reach under my kilt and grab me by the bollocks to make me listen to her.”

    Wee Janet burst out laughing as Jenny blushed and glared at Jamie. “Ma, really? Well, I never did that wi’ Ian or Michael.”

    Marsali got up from the couch and knelt at Laoghaire’s feet, then grabbed her hands. Looking up at her mother, she said seriously, “Mama, I know how important it is to you that I marry well. I willna do anything that could endanger that. We were just swimmin’.”

    Laoghaire tried to quell her tears. Jamie reached over to pat her shoulder. He felt her stiffen slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

    “I need to check the roasting chicken,” Laoghaire sniffled, getting up from the couch. She and Marsali headed to the kitchen, wee Janet following behind. Brother and sister sighed as they met each other's eyes.

    “Shall we walk?”

    They walked in silence for a time, Jamie moderating the length of his strides so that Jenny could keep up with him. Without intending to, Jamie turned them toward the Fraser cemetery up on the top of a hill, with a view of fields, lake, mountains, and farms.

    Since they were already there, the siblings met each other’s eyes and climbed up through the break in the wall, gently laying their hands on the precariously balanced stones as they passed them. Jenny followed as Jamie wended his way through the lichen-covered gravestones towards the ones that marked the graves of Brian Dubh Fraser and Ellen MacKenzie Fraser. And Matthew Fraser. They stood, looking at the trio of stones etched with names and dates.

    “Where shall we put ye, Jamie?” Jenny asked sharply.

    “Put me?” Jamie turned to her. “What an odd question, Janet. Where there’s room. By Da.”

    “No, ye clot-heid. Not when you die. Now. Because yer actin’ like ye’re already dead.”

    But he was dead, Jamie thought, absurdly. He had died back at Culloden Moor; no, he had died at the stones—at Craigh na Dun.

    He realized how foolish those thoughts were. “I’m not dead, Janet, nor am I acting like it. I came out and helped wi’ getting the wee fools out of the pond. I at least thought to bring a blanket. And I brought my family here for Marsali’s birthday."

    “I grant ye that,” Jenny said. “But yer heart’s not in it.”

    Jamie put his fingers to his temples. “Ye women weary me. I’m surrounded wi’ them all day long, and now ye’ve got more to add to the ways I feel like I will ne’er be enough.”

    Jenny looked at her brother, and saw the lines of weariness on his face. And yet, she didn’t relent. “Ye are a man, James, so be one. She isna coming back.”

    Jamie turned to her, eyes narrowed.

    “This life,” Jenny said, her arm taking in the surrounding view. “This? This is what you get. Down there in that stone house? That’s the wife you get. Those are the daughters you get. I’m the only sister you get. Ian’s the only brother-in-law.”

    “Now, Janet,” Jamie had bristled at the mention of Joanie and Marsali. “I love those little lassies like they were my own. I live each day as if it’s the only one I have because I know how precious time is.”

    “What about yer wife, then?” Jenny asked. She put her hands on her hips, making herself resemble a fierce little bantam hen.

    “What have ye been wheedling out of Laoghaire?” Jamie asked accusingly.

    “She says you try. But she also says that you come to her as if you expect something of her, and she always feels like she’s disappointing you!”

    Jamie turned away with a gruff grumble. “I dinna ken that I ever feel I’ve ended a day with Laoghaire happy.”

    “Ye canna expect this marriage to be the same as what you had with Claire. This is what there is, Jamie. Did you hear me? Stop lookin' for what ye had before.”

    Jamie gazed out over the countryside, then began to speak contemplatively.

    “Tell me, Jenny, having known love with Ian, would you be satisfied with a shadow of that love?”

    “I would try,” Jenny responded.

    “I have tried, Janet,” Jamie said quietly. “But ‘tisna even a shadow. She’s a wall, a darkness that absorbs everything I give and shines nothing back to me. I’m weary. I canna be myself with Laoghaire. I make a wee joke? It hurts her feelings. I come to her in our bedroom, and the next day she’s screamin' and cryin' and willna tell me what I’ve done.”

    The two stared at each other, foreheads wrinkled. Finally, Jenny chuckled wryly.

    “D’ye think marriage is easy, Jamie?” Jenny said. “Ye were married for three years; now ye’ve been married for four months. Ian and I have been married for twenty-four years. Do ye not know that sometimes Ian and I hate each other? Sometimes I canna bear the sight of the man. Sometimes he thinks I’m a shrew and a harpy.”

    She saw the look on her brother’s face and glared at him. “And dinna say that sometimes I am a shrew and a harpy. For I ken that’s what ye were thinkin’, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.”

    Jamie recited a proverb he’d heard from his father:

    “Ceannsaichidh a h-uile fear an droch bhean, Ach an duin' aig am bi ì,”*

    At Jenny’s lowered brows he translated: “Everyone can rule a shrew, Except the one she’s married to.” Jamie drew his sister to him, her head underneath his chin. “Ah, Janet,” he said. “Ye are a shrew and a harpy. And I love ye anyway.” He kissed her on the forehead, grabbed her by the hand, and led her away from the stones.

    They stopped at the crest of the hill to look over the land.

    “This, Janet?” Jamie asked, a question in his voice.

    “This is what there is, Jamie.”

    Jamie sighed deeply. “Janet,” he asked, as he stepped down before her and reached a hand back to help her down. “I’m no wearin’ a kilt. But why do my ballocks hurt?”

    She scoffed, and gently boxed his ear. “Gille gòrach*. I love ye, too.”

* foolish boy

On to Chapter 16 : Comfort She needed to go somewhere for comfort...

#Jamie fraser #Laoghaire MacKenzie #CanonCompliant #Why did Jamie marry Laoghaire? #Why did their marriage fall apart? #Outlander fanfic #BetweenSceneswriter

[youre-on-a-starship]

Prompt - “Can you please do a fic w Scotty and the reader being someone who works in engineering. Scotty low key knows the reader likes him a lil, but doesn't do anything bc he's older. Reader has no idea he likes her back, til one day it just happens (like tension is too much, I dunno). If you don't feel like it could work, it's all good, I just love your writing haha. Thanks!” - Anon

Word Count:  1,773

Author’s Note:  It gets a little cracky in the middle? I think it opens and closes well in any case. I hope you like it!

Edit: I literally just realized that all my italics went way in the copy/paste process, so I’ve fixed that. Sorry!

“You know she likes you, right?” Jim folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the console.

Scotty just kept tapping at his work screen, ignoring you at the far end of the corridor working on your own problems.

“Aye,” he muttered.

“So? You gonna make a move?”

“Ach, I don’t, shit,” Scotty hissed as he jabbed his thumb into the display. “Has anyone ever told you you’re the worst damn distraction?”

“So? Are you?”

“Probably not,” Scotty said with a wave. “There’s nearly ten years’ difference there. She’s nice and everythin’ but… I don’t know. I don’t think those kinds of relationships tend to work verra well.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. And anyway, my parents were like, five years apart.”

“And how did that turn out?”

“Well, they seemed to be doing fine.”

“Sorry,” Scotty shook his head and leaned on the heels of his hands as the screen in front him began to restart. “Tha’ was a stupid question. I don’t know, Jim, I don’ think so. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

“Well, it’s just sort of unfair, you know? I mean, with ten years you’ve grown up in different times, you know different things, you’ve got different levels of experience. And sure, it’s all well and good now if ye can look past all that, but the further on you get… I just remember my grandparents. They were thirteen years apart and it nearly killed Gran to take care of him,” Scotty shook his head before bursting back up to full height. “And anyway! I’m busy! I don’ have the time to be entertaining anyone, least of all a twenty-six year old. Or you, for tha’ matter, why are you even here?”

“I’m just checking in with my senior officers,” Jim said with a shrug. He pushed off from the console and clapped Scotty on the back. “Let’s call it health and wellness.”

“May I get back to work?” Scotty snapped.

“As you see fit,” Jim said before wandering off between the machines.

---

“Mr. Scott?” you asked as you stepped into the doorway of his office. You kept your eyes glued on the PADD screen until you didn’t receive an answer. You looked up to see if he was even in the room and you froze when you saw him in his seat behind the desk. It was those eyes. Disarming. And he just stared back at you.

“Uh…” you started.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “Scotty, sorry.” You returned your eyes to your PADD. “I was just going over the terminal C-12 diagnostics, we’ve got some kind of bug preventing the readouts from collating properly.”

“Can ye fix it?”

Wouldn’t it be nice to hear that voice every day?

“Probably? I’m not sure, Lieutenant Rogers is probably a better fit for the job,” you said, lifting your eyes again.

“Well get him on it then; I think he’s just getting in Kelly’s way downstairs,” Scotty said, lowering his hands to his lap. “Is there anything else?”

“Um…”

Can’t you come up with anything?

“I don’t believe so.”

“A’righ’ then. Back at it.”

Blink.

“Back at it,” you repeated.

---

“Don’t do that!” Scotty shouted as you went for the door panel.

“Do you have a better idea?” you quipped back.

“No, but-”

You didn’t wait to listen for the rest of his speech. Pounding your fist on the control panel, you held your breath as the door swished open, a deafening roar of rushing wind and a gush of heat met you and you lurched into the transporter room.

Scotty’s panicked voice cut off suddenly as the door swished shut behind you.

The creature was curling in circles on the transporter pad like a dog chasing its tail. The fiery spine blinded you to look at, but you weren’t going to let it get the jump on you if you turned away.

As the perspiration started to boil under your shirt, you wished that you’d taken the garment off outside.

You stumbled through the thick air and punched a series of commands on the scaldingly hot console.

A tube of golden rings appeared around the creature and it disappeared. You collapsed to the floor, contemplating why you thought that the heat would disappear with it.

The door swished open and a pair of cool hands appeared on your shoulders.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

“Mmm?” you hummed. “Can you… can you keep the door open? It’s so hot…”

“Are y’okay?”

“Yeah,” you said through a heaving breath basking in the rush of cool air from the corridor.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“You have to do something every day that scares you,” you mumbled, trying to sit up. Scotty scooped his hands around your arms and helped you. “That and if he melted the transporter console, I don’t know how else we’d deal with him. And I don’t want to have to rebuild the transporter console again.”

---

“Lieutenant.”

“Sir.”

Your back stiffened as Scotty stood next to you while you waited for the turbolift.

“Mind if I ride with ye?”

“Not in the least,” you said with a smile, strategically turning so that you could look past his nose instead of directly at his face.

He nodded and waited in silence with you. The door swished open and you both walked in and turned around.

“Where are ye-?” Scotty asked as a siren wailed and the lights turned off.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you whined, watching as the crew outside the double glass all slowed to gawk.

“Tha’s real helpful! Thanks!” Scotty waved them off with a grimace. “I dinna have anything with me.”

“Me neither; I was going for lunch,” you admitted, digging your thumb into the bridge of your nose.

Scotty put his hands on his hips and started pacing.

“Of all the days…” he muttered.

You took your comm unit out of your pocket.

“Hawkins,” you barked.

“Forget something, Lieutenant?” came the response.

“Lieutenant Commander Scott and I are stuck in turbolift two.”

“Lucky you.”

“Shut it. Can you boot it back up?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute.”

Your comm went silent and you stuck it back in your pocket. You folded your arms and leaned back against the far wall from where Scotty had planted himself.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumbled, reinserting your thumb into the bridge of your nose. “He was just being funny.”

“I understand.”

You opened your eyes and looked at his chest past your thumb.

“You understand.”

“Aye.” Scotty shrugged and looked at his shoes, sniffing.

You let your eyes crawl up his neck to sneak a peek at his face. It was turning red.

Say something.

“Where were you headed, Sir?”

Good job.

“Keenser had something he needed me to look at up on deck 6,” Scotty said, looking up and catching your eyes.

Silence descended and you dropped your hand from your face.

Say something better.

“I-”

The comm in your pocket blipped. You sighed and pulled it out.

“Go.”

“You’ve got power in 20 seconds.”

“Thanks Hawkins.”

You clapped your unit shut and pushed off from the wall, turning back toward the door.

“You what?”

You half turned back to Scotty.

“It was nothing, Sir. Just making small talk.”

He didn’t answer so you grinned and added, “When I’m hungry I’m bad at having real conversations.”

He snorted and the lights came back on. You tapped the command screen for the recreation deck as well as that for deck 6.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” you said quickly before pressing your lips together.

Scotty turned redder.

“Old guy li’ me… don’t pay much attention to birthdays anymore.”

“You’re not that old,” you said, glancing sideways. “In any case, have one on me tonight.”

The door swished open and you left before he could respond.

—

You laid spreadeagled on your back on the mat wheezing.

“You gonna make it, lassie?” Scotty’s voice came from somewhere above you. It made the ache in your shoulders ebb as you relaxed into the sound. You lifted two fingers and tried waving.

“‘M fine.”

“Hawkins, ta’ five, I think she needs a rest.”

“She will decide when she needs a rest,” you groaned, tucking your elbows under your waist and pushing yourself up to a 45. Your head fell back, but you stayed up. “Hawkins, take five.”

Hawkins snorted and padded out of the ring.

“Engineers aren’t made for hand-to-hand,” you mumbled, letting your throat stretch as your sweat-soaked hair weighed your head down toward the mat.

“Ye can say tha’ again. Are y’a’righ’ though?”

“Sure,” you quipped, opening your eyes and pushing yourself up to sitting in earnest.

Scotty stood up and offered you a hand.

Take it.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grasping his hand and letting him pull you up.

You tipped forward and he steadied you with his free hand. You blinked at him; this was closer than you intended to get.

Scotty’s cheeks started tinting pink in the middle.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling yourself back a few inches. “Thank you.”

Scotty just grinned before pressing his lips together.

Say something!

“Are you going to that thing in Rec C tonight?” you blurted.

“I wasna especially planning on it,” Scotty said, his eyes suddenly darting back and forth between yours. “But if you’re going, I could reconsider.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you sealed your lips and swallowed.

“I mean, unless you weren’t going-”

“Oh, no, I am. Or, I was. I could still,” you stammered, feeling yourself flush.

Scotty was pinker now as well.

You can just say it! Since when are you this nervous?

“If you’re not sold on it, I - I mean, I dinna know if you drink - I’ve got a really nice collection of scotch; I could bring a bottle to the observation deck. We’re getting close to that nebula that Spock’s been on abou’ for ages,” Scotty ventured, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he petered off.

“I, yeah. That, yeah,” you stuttered, looking at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You looked back up and he was grinning. “What changed?” you asked.

Scotty shrugged.

“You have to do something every day that scares you,” he said, tipping his face down in preparation for your response.

You couldn’t help but smile. Reaching up, you wiped the sheet of sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm.

“Then I guess we’re going to see a nebula tonight. Meet you there? Eight?”

“Eight,” Scotty agreed with a sigh and a smile.

#montgomery scott x reader #scotty x reader

[fireladybuckley]

A Shocking Incident

Fandom: Star Trek AOS Pairing: Bones/Carol (established) Prompt: This image for @outside-the-government‘s Winter Blues Challenge Word Count: 3024 Warnings: Some injuries, a bit of blood Rating:Teen? Tag List: @outside-the-government @feelmyroarrrr @littlecarowrites @trekken81 @lurkch @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @yourtropegirl @answer-the-sirens  @alwaysinnarnia @mccoymostly @dolamrothianlady @stormsnevercometostay Author’s Note: Just some McCarol hurt/comfort fluff.  I enjoyed writing this one.  I know McCarol isn’t the most popular pairing, but I hope people like it nonetheless.  Sorry for the cheesy AF title, hah.

               Carol Marcus swore softly to herself as she fiddled with the delicate internal parts of a hand phaser.  The damn thing kept malfunctioning and she was determined to figure out what was wrong with it, despite the Captain’s indifference.  He had told her several times that they could just get a few new ones on their next supply run, but Carol wanted to know what was happening.  The hand weapons didn’t often malfunction and she was curious as to what was actually causing the issue.   The problem was, the internal workings of the phaser were so very tiny and delicate that it was incredibly difficult to locate everything she needed to check without taking the entire thing apart – a task that generally took longer than it was worth – but which she was seriously starting to consider doing.

                 Her comm buzzed a moment later and she sighed, setting the phaser back down on her desk and reaching for the comm instead.  As she opened it, Scotty’s voice came out immediately, and he sounded rather frantic.

                 “Lieutenant Marcus, are you busy righ’ now?  I could really use a hand down here.”

               “Of course, Mr. Scott, I’d be happy to help,” Carol replied, smiling.  There wasn’t a lot for her to do on board in regards to her own specialization of weapons technology, so she was always happy to help out in engineering, where her skills were often useful.

                 “Excellent.  Report to the aft torpedo launcher.  I’ve just received an auto-report that something down there isn’t running correctly but I’ve got my hands full near the warp core.”  Scotty’s voice sounded harassed and distracted, and Carol got to her feet immediately.

                 “Right away, Mr. Scott.  I’ll let you know if it’s something urgent once I’m down there.”

                 “Sounds good, Lassie.  I’ll meet ya down there soon, as long as I can get this damn thing working.”

                 Carol snapped her communicator shut, picked up her small messenger style bag of tools that she always brought with her when she was working on any of the ship’s systems and slung it over her shoulder before heading out into the corridor from her small lab.  It was a short walk to the lift and she hummed to herself as she went, mentally running through all the systems that the aft torpedo launcher ran on as she descended to the M deck where the launchers were located.

                 Carol frowned as she approached the launcher in question and saw several warning lights flashing, text scrolling on the control screen. She hurried to the console and began to type, quickly learning that there was some kind of issue with the wiring in the guidance system.  It needed to be fixed right away, or the ship would have no way of aiming one of its torpedos, which could have disastrous consequences.

                 “Mr. Scott,” Carol said, flipping open her comm, after Scotty had answered her call.  “There’s an issue with the wiring in the guidance system, shall I investigate further?” She heard him swear and then sigh, and she could just see the look of exasperation on his face.

                 “Third damn time this month that thing’s gone off,” he grumbled. “Aye, check it out.  I’ll be down there in just a mo’, I’m just wrapping up here.”  

                 Carol stashed her comm and began to type away again, running security protocols and entering passwords so that she could have access to the insides of the launcher.   After a few minutes she’d gotten access and heard a metallic clicking as the panel nearby automatically unlocked itself, popping open slightly so she could get in.

                 Carol pulled the panel door the rest of the way open and peered inside.  At first glance everything seemed to be alright, but she suspected that there were some wires loose along the side of one of the internal panels.   Carefully, she began to slip her hand along the side of the panel she was interested in.  It was hard to see, as it was a bit farther back inside the unit, but she could picture perfectly in her mind where everything was located.  

                 Her arm had disappeared to the elbow inside the unit now, as she felt along the side for the part that she needed to remove and run diagnostics on, according to the console control display. However, as her palm brushed some wires that were supposed to be perfectly aligned and functional, she received a strong jolt of electricity to her palm.  Her muscles immediately seized up and she made a strangled noise as the current began to flow through her body.   She was frozen in place, her hand continually touching the live wire because of the way her muscles had seized- the angle of her arm when the muscles stiffened was holding her upright, the limb wedged into the unit.

                 Agony coursed through her for what felt like an excruciatingly long time, though in reality, it was only seconds.  Suddenly, she could hear shouting, and a second later, the unit had completely powered down.  Immediately her muscles relaxed and she let out a whimper as she tried to suck in a breath, feeling winded.  Her muscles had relaxed so much, however, that she could no longer stay standing. She tried to cling to the outside of the unit but she was unable to control her limbs and she let out a strangled cry as she fell back, her arm snagging and cutting on the outer panel of the unit before she toppled to the ground.   There was a loud metallic clang that echoed around the area as her head cracked into a railing behind her, and she crumpled to the catwalk, unconscious, a trickle of blood creeping down her neck from under her blonde hair.

 ---------

                 When Carol woke a few minutes later, everything was a confusing blur.  It took her a few long moments before she remembered where she was, as she slowly began to regain the feeling of the cold metal slats of the catwalk digging into her side and the arm she was lying on.  She could hear, but the sounds were oddly distorted and there was a ringing in her ears that was hard to ignore.  She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before she finally started to shift a little, groaning softly as the pain came back to her.

                 “What happened?” Leonard’s words floated over to her, warm and familiar, comforting even through the badly suppressed hint of panic in his voice.   She could hear clanging and feel the vibrations of footsteps approaching her and wondered, groggily, who it was.  She tried to will herself to open her eyes, but she was feeling sluggish and slow, her body resisting her urges.

                 “I got here just as I saw her stiffen.  Realized it must be a live wire so I shut down the power, but she fell and hit her head on the railing, there.”   An accented voice swam in her ears now, another familiar sound. Who was that, again?  Oh, right, Mr. Scott, head of Engineering.  Carol groaned a little again as her muscles ached fiercely, the back of her head throbbing where she’d hit it.

                 “Hold still, darlin’,” Leonard’s voice said soothingly, now startlingly nearby.  “Can you open your eyes and look at me?”   She felt his hand, warm on the cool skin of her upper arm, and slowly opened her eyes through sheer willpower.  She blinked sluggishly as she stared up at him, trying to bring him into clearer focus.

                 “Leonard,” she breathed, her voice weak and somewhat hoarse.

                 “Hi darlin’,” he said softly, giving her a small smile before reaching for her wrist.  He easily lifted one of her limp hands and pressed two fingers to her pulse point.   She could feel the faint thumping of her pulse against his fingertips, and even she could tell that it felt off. Leonard looked unhappy - but unsurprised - by what he felt.  Still, he left his fingers there for a few moments longer while she struggled to continue looking at him, her eyes stinging at the bright lights creating a halo around his head, making his features hard to distinguish.   Carol shifted her hand so her fingers could gently brush against his wrist, finding comfort in his warm touch, even though he was mostly in doctor mode.  He finally let go of her wrist a few seconds later and shifted his weight, kneeling down beside her.

                 “Can you feel your fingers?” he asked, gently squeezing the tips. She breathed a ‘yes’ at him, and he moved to her feet, pinching her toes through her shoes.  She nodded this time, though she stopped quickly;  it was making her head hurt more.   “Try not to move your head or neck,” he said quickly, reaching out and bracing her head, his hand resting gently on her hair. “Let me scan you first, I want to make sure there’s no skull fracture.”  

                 She lay still as he moved his tricorder around her head and neck, trying not to whimper at the continued agony in her muscles.  She felt like she’d had a body-wide Charlie horse, and her limbs were not happy.  It didn’t take him long to scan her, and she could tell without him saying a word that he was relieved.

                 “Well, you got lucky,” he said, taking her hand and examining the electrical burn in the middle of her palm.  “No cranial fractures, no brain bleed… just a cut under the hairline, and not even a deep one at that.”  She gave a weak half-smile and attempted to nod, cringed at the pain and stopped immediately, letting out a shaky sigh.  “Easy, darlin’,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently for reassurance. “I’m going to lift you up onto a stretcher now, okay?”

                 “I- I can try to stand…” Carol said, pushing her hands against the catwalk and trying to lift herself into a sitting position, but her arms were trembling violently under the weight and Leonard leaned forward, stabilizing her as she gave a little hiss of pain, both from the muscle ache and the burn on her palm.

                 “Carol, your muscles are weak and tense from the electricity.  You’re going to be in a hell of a lot of pain if you try to walk.  Please just let me take care of you for once, instead of being stubborn?”  His tone was somewhat frustrated, but she could hear the note of pleading in it and she sighed, then smiled a little at him.

               “I suppose the doctor knows best,” she conceded, tipping her head slightly in a deferral to his judgement.  His smirk was one of triumph and he gave her cheek a gentle stroke before wrapping his arm behind her shoulders, slipping the other under her knees.

                 “Are you ready?” he asked, holding her tight to his front, crouched in position. She gulped and held tight to him with her uninjured arm, holding onto his shoulder.  He took that as agreement and pushed himself to his feet, lifting her with him.  She let out a soft cry of pain as her muscles protested fiercely to the sudden change, and he apologized quickly as he turned with her in his arms.  Waiting behind him were two nurses and a hovering biobed, which she hadn’t been able to see from her perspective behind Leonard.   He set her down on the bed and one of the nurses positioned the pillow under her, so that her head was well supported as she tried to let her body relax.   As she winced, trying to adjust herself so that she was somewhat comfortable, Scotty appeared in her line of vision, looking worried and relieved at the same time.

                 “Y’alright, Lassie?” Scotty asked, stepping up to her bedside.  “I should’ve known there was something more going on with that system.  I’m sorry ye got injured,” he said, frowning at the system and then back at her, and she could see the concern in his eyes.

                 “I’ll be fine, Mr. Scott,” Carol said, her voice quiet and tired, but otherwise fairly normal.  “I’m in good hands.”

                 Leonard smirked slightly at this comment as he pulled the rails up on either side of the biobed to prevent her rolling off in the event of any turbulence, then clapped Scotty on the shoulder.

                 “She’ll be fine, Scotty, not to worry.  A couple of rounds with the dermal regenerator and a few days rest and she’ll be right as rain.”   Scotty smiled and nodded, and Carol gave a little wave as the nurses began to direct the bed away from the area, back towards the turbolift.  

                 They were in medbay within minutes and she was put into a curtained room, both of the nurses dispersing at Leonard’s request.  He paused before he got started on the medical things, reaching out and stroking her hair as she looked up at him, a small smile on her face despite her current discomfort.

                 “How’re you doin’?” he asked quietly, his fingers rhythmically and gently stroking her blonde strands.  

                 “I’ve been better,” Carol said, scrunching up her face a little as she shifted and her muscles screamed in protest again.  “But all in all, it could have been much worse.”   Bones made a snorting noise of displeased agreement, but offset the unpleasant sound by leaning down and kissing her forehead gently.  Her eyes closed and she let out a soft sigh at the tenderness, feeling comforted by his touch.

                 “Here, I’ll give you something for the pain and the muscle tension,” he said, turning his back on her and prepping a hypospray.  She winced slightly as he injected the medicine into her neck a moment later, but sighed in relief as, within a few seconds, the tension had started to ease.  Within a minute or two most of her pain had ebbed, and her limbs were feeling heavy as her muscles relaxed.  She let out another sigh and turned her head to look at him, miraculously not feeling much pain as she moved.

                 “Thanks,” she said, her words a little thick from the meds. “That’s much better.”  He smiled as he got his supplies together and came back to the side of the bed with them.

                 “Anytime,” he told her, pulling on a pair of gloves and taking her injured hand, carefully cleaning the burn on her palm.  She winced slightly at the sting of the saline-wet gauze, but the pain disappeared nearly as fast as it had come.  Carol faded into a twilight-like state, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as her body relaxed further, making her feel extremely sleepy and weighed down.

                 Before she knew it, he had cleaned both the burn on her palm and the cut on the back of her forearm she’d sustained as she’d fallen, dragging her skin along the metal of the electrical unit.  She heard the vague humming sound of the dermal regenerator and told herself to stay still, though there was not much need;  she was feeling so relaxed now that she wasn’t sure she could move, at least not without a very good reason.

                 “I’m gonna sit you up now, so I can clean the cut on the back of your head, okay?”  His voice seemed far away, and it took her a moment to realize he was speaking directly to her and might require a response.

                 “Mhm,” she said slowly, not opening her eyes.  She thought she heard him chuckle, but wasn’t quite sure if she’d imagined it.  She was fairly sure she was slipping between the real world and dream land, but it was hard to distinguish between the two.   She let out a soft gasp of surprise as the bio bed began to shift, raising her top half so that she was in a reclined sitting position.  

                 Leonard reached out and gently pulled her into a more natural sitting position, with her back mostly straight, supporting her with an arm.

                 “Can you put your head down?” he asked, keeping her steady as she swayed a bit.  “Chin to your chest.”   She eventually did as he’d asked, once the request had penetrated her foggy mind properly. She could feel the cool dampness of the gauze on the back of her head but it didn’t hurt, and she was feeling groggier than ever as she leaned sideways against his chest, unaware that she was making it more difficult for him to do his job, though he didn’t complain.

                 “All done,” he said after a moment, gently guiding her back down onto the bed, where she sank her head gratefully onto her soft pillow, feeling heavy and sleepy once more.  “Now, your heart rate is fast and weak because of the electricity, so though you’re fine and don’t have an irregular rhythm, I’m going to keep you here at least twenty-four hours, just as a precaution.”

                 “Okay,” she agreed, her voice soft and barely audible as her eyes drifted shut.  “As long as I can sleep most of that time.”   She let out a soft sigh and lay still for a moment, before she suddenly remembered something and her eyes opened, faster than they had since before he’d injected her with the meds.  “Is my kit still down by the torpedo launcher?” she asked, her voice a bit more clear.  She’d been building that kit with very specific tools for a long time; the thought that it might just be lying on the floor in Engineering was causing her a bit of anxiety.

                 “Your kit’s right here, don’t worry,” Leonard said, lifting the strap and showing it to her.  “Scotty gave it to me as we were leaving, said you’d miss it.”

                 “Ah,” Carol said, visibly relaxing with a relieved sigh. “Mr. Scott knows me well, it seems.”

                 “Indeed,” Leonard agreed, putting her kit back down on the floor. “Now, you need to rest.  Just let me take care of you.”   She smiled drowsily, her eyes closing again, but she didn’t speak.  Leonard reached out and stroked her hair again, smoothing it back off her forehead, watching her face as she slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

#write away the winter blues #star trek fanfic #star trek aos #leonard mccoy #carol marcus #leonard/carol #bones/carol #mccarol #bones #leonard mccoy/carol marcus #prompt #mine #starshiphufflebadger

[eccentricandanachronistic]

Tuva – Reeking of Mysticism…

I was well into my second week of my dream Trans Siberian Railway ride. So far, I had had a 50 hour train ride from Moscow to Novosibirsk, a couple of days of exploring the town of Barnaul with the help of my Couchsurfing host Sasha, scouting around for tent and camping equipment, and almost a week of trekking up in the Altai mountains. One part of Siberia that needed a bit of a detour, but fascinated me enough to be willing to jump through all hoops required, was the majestic Republic of Tuva...

I took the night train from Barnaul to Abakan, and I knew right away that I was in a part of the country that was absolutely off the tourist radar because, for the first time, I felt conscious of hard stares from fellow passengers. Many curious people came and struck up a conversation (and even took pictures for their Instagram!). I reveled in the attention for a bit, till digging deep into my limited vocabulary and answering with strain in incoherent Russian became a little too stressful, and I feigned ignorance of the language for the rest of the evening and went off to sleep on my berth.

Early the next morning, I arrived at Abakan. There were quite a few 'marshrutkas' (mini-buses) outside to depart for Kyzyl, capital of Tuva. I sat in and more curious stares and questions followed. I felt more conscious than ever, for I hadn't freshened up or even once checked myself in the mirror in the last 24 hours, so I knew I must look a sight (and a downright ugly representative of India, to boot). I refrained from talking much, but before long, was most pleasantly surprised to find one of my fellow passengers come up to me and speak in impeccable English. She introduced herself as Serji, a native of Toora-khem – a small Tuvan village, more than a half day's bus ride from Kyzyl – but having worked in St Petersburg in the past, and volunteered as part of an International Student Run Organisation at exciting places like Colombia! I sensed in her a fierce desire no different from mine to see the world and understand as much as possible of the cultures beyond hers, and was highly impressed. She donned the hat of guide and translator for the rest of the bus ride; I was relieved that all questions about me were now directed to her!

Once we reached Kyzyl, I started looking for a 'Student's Hostel', a reference to which I had found online somewhere on only one page in English. With Serji's help, I now did a search in Russian on Yandex, and she was of great help in mining the exact name of the building and street from among all the Cyrillic the search results bombarded back. Turns out it is the local University students' accommodation, which is let out for tourists during the summer holidays – only there aren't many visiting this part of the country. Serji decided to stay at the same hostel for the night, for she had missed the day's bus to her village. We also met Roman, an ardent photographer originally from the Urals, who had also just dropped in earlier that day.

Right on the opposite side of the road was Vostorg – a place for cheap eats, which is where we had lunch. Later that evening, we walked around the City Centre and took in the sights around – the museum, theatre, and other pretty edifices. The sight that stayed with me however was the mandatory statue of Lenin erected at the Centre and, in the distance inscribed on the hills overlooking the city, the letters 'Om Mani Padme Hum' in Tibetan script, visible in the same frame!

I next walked up to the 'Center of Asia' Monument at the Heritage Park that evening. Right next to it was the Kyzyl Tourist Information Center, the upper floor of which had a lovely Café with a balcony. From here, one could see the river Yenisei running alongside the Park.

Presently I was joined by Roman, who said he had managed to hire a car to visit southern Tuva the next day, and invited me to join him to split costs. I said yes, but was forced to change my mind not too long after when I learnt that the following evening, the National Tuvan Theatre would be playing host to the Annual International Concert for 'Khoomei' – the mystical art of throat singing, and emitting multiple octaves of sound, prevalent in this region as well as Mongolia. I jumped – this was the thing I was most hoping to see in Tuva! And to think the Annual Concert is at the very time I am here – if this isn't serendipity, what is?!

I went out early the next morning to the theatre, and just as it opened, secured a ticket to the concert that evening. The rest of the day was spent at the National Tuvan Museum , which has a fabulous collection of artefacts, and the star attraction of which is the 'Scythian Gold' (no photography allowed unfortunately). Serji took me to an authentic Tuvan café for lunch, where I had some local lamb soup, 'chorba', and 'snezhok', which is very similar to our own lassi! I then saw Serji off at the bus station and thanked her for everything…

The concert began as scheduled at 7.00pm in the evening, and no time was wasted in getting the performers to show off their incredible vocal magic – my hairs stood up from the word go! Over the next two hours, local music groups as well as other national and international participants put up a spectacular show. This certainly goes down as one of the most unique and surreal experiences I have been privy to EVER!

The next day, Roman was bound for Western Tuva, and was kind enough to ask again if I could join in. After the concert, I felt I had pretty much seen what I had come to Tuva for, and now anything more would be a bonus. We were to be seeing some nomadic families in action as well as their 'yurts' (tents), so I was excited about that. My plan was to return that night to Kyzyl and head out by bus or train.

We started with seeing the Buddhist temple of Ustuu-Khuree, which had plenty of prayer flags around it. We'd bought prayer flags ourselves, and tied them along with our 'zhelanie' (wishes). Now that I write this a year later, I can indeed happily confirm that my wish did come true!

Next was 'Aldyn-Bulak', an ethno-village recreation nestled amidst the hills. Pretty, albeit a bit too 'set up' for my liking.

Some breathtaking sights greeted us the rest of the way. I had lost count of the rainbows I had seen on this trip; while the sight of the vast steppes amidst the backdrop of rolling hills looked otherworldly indeed…

Soon after, however, the car broke down, and could not be fixed no matter how hard our driver and co-driver tried. It had turned pitch dark, and there was not a source of light close by save for our torches.  Obviously there was no going back to Kyzyl to catch the bus out now. Roman had a reservation at a 'yurt' that night, and called them for help. Soon after, a car came our help; we were ferried to the closest village of 'Bizhiktig Khaya', where the nephew of the lady who managed the yurt stayed, and we were to spend the night there. The following morning, another car arrived to take us to the actual yurt, which was about an hour's drive away. Once there, we settled in, and I took in every bit of the well endowed tent; there was sheepskin all around, meant to help keep the place warm. We were then treated to a delightful spread of salad, 'lepeshka' (bread), and soup – all lip-smackingly delicious!

We hired yet another car – a 4x4 and quite the fuel guzzler – and went out to see some more places around; first to another yurt, this time not part of a camp, but owned by a real nomadic family. I enjoyed having the spotlight on me all over again, and for good reason – Indians did not drop by in these parts everyday (though turns out they know of the singer Bittu Malik!). It was time to head back – sunset views were a delight to take in, as was the sight of horses and cattle herd returning to their farms.

That night happened to be 'Rakhi Poornima' (August Full moon)… and also my birthday! I kept running over a thousand thoughts in my head, while snuggled in my sheepskin blanket, and couldn't sleep for excitement. I came out to admire the yurt lit up by the glorious moonlight, and froze the frame in my eyes and lens forever…

The next morning, after a wholesome breakfast, we climbed up the nearby hills to see 3000-year old peteroglyphs carved on the rocks.

We were presently joined by an Italian girl, Alessandro, who had just come back from a week-long trip among the reindeer herders, and was heading back that afternoon to Abakan; we decided to take the ride back with her. Just before sending us off, our host performed a shaman ritual on us, blessing us with closed eyes and deeply resonating chants – very mystic, very powerful…

We passed by the beautiful region of Khakassiya on the way, and reached Abakan by late evening. This is where I bid goodbye to both my new friends – Alessandro and Roman – for I would be staying the night at a hostel in town before heading out the next morning. I had the rest of the night to ruminate over the overwhelmingly different and transcendent experience the last few days had been, and marveled at my destiny – I had come seeking so little, and ended up getting so much more than I bargained for; not very different from what they say about God – you take one step towards him with pure faith in your heart, and he will take ten closer to you…

On to Krasnoyarsk next, where more exciting adventures await…!

#travel #tuva #tuvan throat singing #republic #russia #trans siberian railway #khoomei #tuvan

[mythriteshah]

Dinner with Violet & Steel

Within the mythril-blue halls of the Higuri Regalia’s Main Branch Headquarters was a vast dinner table made of that same blue metal.  Precious fabrics of tulle were placed evenly along the length of the table, as plates of exquisite food from all corners of Hydaelyn were being placed.

The Angels – Lord Thiji’s personal retinue of assassin-maidservants – were gathered around the table.  At the head was the Mythrite Sultan himself, being poured a glass of his Winter Lassi by his Main Branch Advisor, Veeveena Veena.  He and his Angels were regaling one another over their recent success in the Bloodsands…

Lilina: So how’d it go?! I wanted to witness the spectacle myself, but I have been so busy with my Summoner training…

Veeveena: Oh, it went quite well, Miss Lilina!  In fact, we would be honored if Miss Susuna could recall the story for us in full detail!

Susuna: Hey, can I at least get in a glass or two of wine first?!

The Angels chuckled as Susuna gulped down her caelumtree wine.  All the Angels were garbed in the uniform of their respective branches, save for a few who were wearing items from the PiB Catalogue: Veeveena in her Impurity’s Sampot as per usual; Isja in her Life-Warden’s Veil, and Himmeya in the Griffin-Mistress’ Choil.

After a good half-bell into their feast, Veeveena popped the question to her fellow Angel once more, who took another long sip of her wine before jumping up to the table in a dramatic fashion, startling her sisters.

Susuna: So there we were, surrounded by the typical Ul’dahn crowd of nobles looking for bloodshed! Even Ishgard’s own nobility came to spectate!  The Mythril Cup was nigh, and it was here that our latest operation would unfold: Violet Steel!

Luluma: But wait, I thought Miss Himmeya didn’t use weapons?

Susuna: I’m getting there! So anyway, the contestants were lined up in the Bloodsands: a big, burly Sea Wolf Gladiator; a not-as-big but just-as burly female Sea Wolf Marauder; a Midlander soldier of the Immortal Flames; a female Duskwight Lancer; a Sun Seeker male from the Black Shroud – a Redbelly Wasp; a pair of male twin Dunesfolk Thaumaturges, and a Highlander Thief!

Isja: Hm… I counted nine, including Himmeya.  Who was the tenth?

Susuna: She was a Far Easterner, by the look of her armor.  She had a pink scabbard which obviously housed a Doman Steel katana.  At the time, she was masked, so her face was obscured from view.  So as they welcomed the combatants, I placed a hundred thousand gil on Himmeya winning. The odds at the time were 100 to 1.

Lelena: What?!  Then that must mean –

Susuna: That’s right! Ten million gil was going to belong to the Regalia once Himmeya won!  Of course, the real victory was getting word out on the PiB Catalogue, which my sisters and Miss Shiro were manning just outside the coliseum at the time.

Umimi: Oh, when does the fun part come?  Let’s hear about the fighting!

Sesena: Oh, don’t be so impatient, Miss Umimi!  Suna’s gotta set the mood first!

Susuna: Whaddya mean? The mood is already set!  The fight started and everyone was goin’ at it! The Gladiator and Marauder ganged up on the swordmaiden while the Lancer and the Redbelly Archer did their thing.

Umimi, taking a sip of water: Now that’s more like it!

Susuna: The Flames soldier made good use of his shield, deflecting the elemental onslaught from the Thaumaturge twins!  Then here comes the Highlander Thief from out of the shadows, looking to draw first blood by taking out Himmeya!

The Angels gasped as Himmeya simply shook her head, biting into another piece of baklava.  The Enforcer was amazed by the taste that she had to stop and appreciate the flavor for a moment…

Himmeya, thinking: Damn.  Now I see why this is Lord Thiji’s favorite dessert.

Susuna: Unfortunately for him, Miss Himmeya was in her exclusive Fists of Ice stance!  When the Thief jumped onto her shoulders for an Assassination attack, she caught him off balance using Arm of the Destroyer, then quickly grabbed him by the leg, hung him upside-down for a mean Touch of Death to the gut, and chucked his tattooed ass across the arena, taking a shield bash and Scathe combo as he was sent flying into the wall!

Umimi & Veeveena: Nice!

The other Angels applauded Himmeya’s performance.  The Fist of Rhalgr disciple found it difficult to respond to such an ovation, so she simply waved sheepishly.

Isja: Who knew the Treasurer had such a talent for storytelling?

Sosona: Susuna may be the youngest between the three of us, but her expertise at information gathering and gossip is second-to-none.

Susuna: With the first combatant knocked out, Himmeya took up a new stance: the Fists of Water!  The Lancer incapacitated the Miqo’te bandit with a straight kick and went straight for the Flames soldier!  Meanwhile, the Thaumaturges enhanced their defenses with Manawards as they prepared a mean spell to throw at Himmeya!

Lelena: How would she be able to close the distance in time?!

Susuna: She didn’t have to. Much like the Fists of Ice slowing down opponents she struck, this stance had a unique effect as well!  The Fists of Water increased her effective striking range by at least ten yalms!  So she was able to instantly break their barriers with another antiquated technique: the One-Ilm Punch!

Meriri: Goodness, lass! Ye be puttin’ Pugilists to shame with yer skills!

Koyuki: It was at this point that the crowd had its eyes fixed on Miss Himmeya, and some had even inquired as to where she obtained her clothes!  You can only imagine what we told them in response!

Shishira: Lord Thiji dearest was spectating from the other end, cloaked in black and violet, signaling the next phase: bringing in the masses!  But for now, Miss Susuna should continue.

Susuna: Thank you, ma’am! So, with the Thaumaturges’ defenses shattered by a single hit, the Archer managed to recover and shot an arrow at the older brother, which really pissed off his younger sibling!  He gathered his might and dropped an orbital laser on his head – the Skyshard!

Isja: Heavens…!

Umimi: He died, right?

Susuna: He should have!  It’s a Limit Break, for Thal’s sake!  But capitalizing on this, the Marauder chick took out the exhausted younger with a mean Overpower, wrapping up the triangle knockout!

Meriri: So how was the swordmaiden doin’ in the midst of all this?

Susuna: She held her own no problem!  In fact, I was going to get to her in a minute!  So, the roster was down to half at this point, with only Himmeya, the Far Easterner, the Roegadyns, and the Flames Soldier remaining!

Yuanji: But you missed the Duskwight – what happened to her?

Susuna, taking another sip of her wine: Oh, right – her.  She got slashed right below the tits by the Flames soldier.

The Angels broke out into laughter yet again from the Treasurer’s remark.  Umimi nearly spat out her water as a result.  Thiji only shook his head, the only thing escaping his lips being a soft chuckle.

Susuna: Which is even funnier considering how she was talking so much good shite to Miss Himmeya before the fight began! 

Himmeya: Said I was better fit for ballroom dancing.

Lilina: Ballrooms can be arenas, too!

Susuna: Well-stated, Miss Lilina!  Very true! So anyway, he was up next. Himmeya readied her third trump card: The Fists of Lightning!

Lilina: Ooh! Ooh!  That stance had to have paralyzed her foes, right?!

Himmeya: Correct. Though my attacks kept hitting his shield, he would eventually find it harder to hold it up as the electric current danced around the metal and eventually shocked him.

Susuna: And that was when she gave him a double Tiger Claw Strike!

Himmeya: “Couerl Paw”, Miss Susuna.

Susuna: Eh, semantics! The point is, he was knocked on his ass and was eliminated!  All eyes were on Himmeya now, and the nobles were starting to see the meaning of “Power in Beauty” through our star performer!  So we directed them outside to the booth we had set up.  Those who stayed, however, were in for a treat! That Marauder chick was furious now, and charged at Himmeya full speed!  But she was able to stop her dead in her tracks with the Steel Peak technique, stunning her long enough to charge her power move… Uh, what did you call it again?

Himmeya & Sosona: Chesed (pronounced “heh-sed”).

Susuna: Thanks to Sona’s fine-tuning, Miss Himmeya overclocked her Fists of the Fiend and brought the full power of life and growth onto the face of the Marauder, sending her bouncing into the wall where she made a nice Roegadyn-sized hole in it before landing on her neck!

The Angels winced in pain.

Susuna: That left only Himmeya, the Gladiator, and the swordmaiden.  At this point, the Roegadyn was getting frustrated as her opponent was getting the upper hand, so he tried to draw her away with a Bloodstain – or Circle of Scorn, if you prefer!  But then she did this thing where it looked like she foresaw the incoming attack and instantly evaded it, sliding backwards a full 360-degrees before advancing and retaliating with a slash which disarmed him!

Luluma: So some sort of… Foresight Slash?

Susuna: Yeah, that’s what it sounds like!  Anyway, she sent the man into the air with a Tsubame-Gaeshi, then bisected the fool with an Ougi – some Far Eastern word meaning “Hidden Technique”.

???: The Hana-no-Fukei – the Scenery of Blossoms.

Everyone looked around to find the source of the voice.  Then from the entrance to the dining hall was a petite Midlander Hyur wearing the uniform of the Othard Branch, with a pink scabbard identical to the one Susuna described in her retelling.  She had auburn hair tied in a ponytail and golden eyes, flawless skin, and an air of poise.  She greeted everyone with a bow and immediately took a seat beside Himmeya.

Susuna: Introducing our newest Angel: Kaori Hanabira, the Petaldancer!

Kaori: Truly, it is an honor to be part of such a wonderful company.  It is grand to see my old friend Himmeya again.

Meriri: Wait, you’re the same lass who cut down the Gladiator?  Then how’d the rest of the match end?

Kaori: After I struck down that ruffian, I revealed myself to Himmeya.  We had befriended each other during the Rhalgr’s Beacon operation when she was still in the Resistance.

Himmeya: She stowed away on an East Aldenard vessel all the way to Limsa Lominsa, where she sought to return the favor of the brave westerners who helped liberate Doma.

Thiji: We are honored to have you among us, Miss Kaori.  You will serve us well as the Othard Branch’s Enforcer.

Kaori: I shall not disappoint.

Umimi: With all due respect, my lord… who won the Mythril Cup?

Thiji: That honor belongs to Miss Himmeya, of course.  They had shared a dialogue before sparring.  Both gave their all, but in the ensuing clash, Miss Kaori’s blade would shatter upon Himmeya’s enhanced fists.  Without a weapon with which to fend herself, and her own martial arts proving inadequate, the only logical choice was to concede.

Kaori: But it was an honorable duel, and I only entered to find Miss Himmeya in the first place. She enjoys fighting – as do I.  So I thought a coliseum battle would be the ideal event to find her.  The kami smiled upon me that day to find her there, though I was unaware of a greater scheme in the works.

Yuanji: Ahh – of course! Miss Sesena’s team was swamped after the match, were you not?

Sesena: We would have been were it not for the fact that Miss Shiro is a master assassin!  She gave everyone a copy with lightning speed!

Sosona: And now we have an easy 10 million gil in the bank; more exposure for the Regalia, and a new Angel. An awesome profit was won that day.

Susuna: The bookmaker was appalled by the outcome, but that’s the thing about gambling: sometimes –

Sesena and Sosona join in: You lose!

Umimi: But not for the Regalia!  This gamble was a victory for us all!  A toast to our success, and to our newest Angel – Miss Kaori!

Thiji: To Miss Kaori.

Yuanji & Koyuki: Kampai!

(Picture commissioned by Dizzyfuture)

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