#she's not very keen on listening to me when it comes to dog training

[phoenix-flamed]

Continued from here:

Even before dawn, when the darkened skies are gaining their first light of the day, and the colors begin to shift from blacks and blues to scarlet and orange -- The Hideaway is still abuzz with life. There is little time for rest; if past events have taught the people who call it home anything, it is the necessity of being prepared. Miles is, even long before his arrival, painfully familiar with how a mere second can make the difference between who lives and who doesn't, or turn the tides of an otherwise assured victory.

To be caught off-guard is to flirt with death. Oh, does he know it well.

Another round of training has run its course. The younger, less experienced Cursebreakers are fatigued from their drills, and even the older man feels worn down despite his dogged nature. (But if there is something else that can be said about Elwin Rosfield, it is that he is nothing short of stubborn, and thus unrelenting.) His own training sword is, for the moment, rested carefully against the rack where the wooden weapons are kept. A gloved hand raises, gesturing for those around him -- including his own training partner -- to take a short break. As hard as these men and women are keen to push themselves, they are of no use, especially not to themselves, if they push their bodies until they break entirely.

The chatter that follows is business as usual. Questions pepper the air, remarks leading to conversations are not far behind. For his part, the fallen royal offers feedback to those who seek it, as well as words of encouragement, both of which are equally heartfelt. But what is unexpected is not the arrival of a particular young woman to the scene, but the words she speaks -- or rather, the question she posits.

It's clear from the murmurs and uncertain looks that the poignancy of her inquiry is felt throughout most of the Cursebreakers that are present. Even Miles himself seems caught off-guard by it, despite his best attempts at refusing such a state for himself.

But there's something else that's curious about Jote; each time his ocean-hued eyes settle upon her, he can't help feeling a sense of familiarity, one that cannot seem to be shaken.

Lips part, only to purse instead in careful thought. A philosophical discussion is not what he had been expecting to have this morning, but he most certainly isn't going to turn her away or ignore her. No, instead he gestures for her to come closer, once he seems to have finally settled on the answer he wishes to offer in return.

"... I do." Initially, it's a simple response -- almost too simple, compared to how open her question is. His head tilts back slightly, a sigh escaping in attempt to better catch his breath; then a hand wipes across his brow, and in doing so brushes away the perspiration that's gathered most notably at his hairline and forehead. "I do believe in liberation, yes -- I wouldn't be here if I didn't." There's a hint of teasing to his tone, although the statement is very much true. Then a small yet warm smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "There is no one definition, for cherishing one's life means different things to different people. But were I to be bold enough to make an assertion... I would insist that there are two threads that tie my own personal answer to that of this place's purpose."

In contrast to his previous gestures, this time around Miles's head dips forward in further contemplation of how to phrase his thoughts. Slowly, too, does he begin to pace the creaking floorboards, lost in his own head -- and seeming to forget the various sets of eyes and listening ears that are focused on him.

"Liberation, to me, is the freedom to choose one's future. To hold one's fate in their own hands, without another to dictate their life for them. What does this mean per individual? Well, that depends on the individual and their circumstances." The smile slips steadily downward into a thoughtful frown. The furrow of his brow deepens significantly, and his hand curls into a loose fist, so that it can rest just below his chin. "Cherishing one's life, likewise, depends on the individual. We all come from different walks of life, yet the commonality that links us all together is exactly that: life. So long as we draw breath, we live, in the most basic sense. But cherishing one's life is far more broad and personalized. To me, it is not necessarily the appreciation of being alive... but the appreciation of one's liberation -- of the freedom to choose one's fate."

He stops. When his gaze finally seeks the young woman out once more, his expression is pensive, serious. As if he has finally settled on the right words to conclude his thought:

"Cherishing one's life is to appreciate the freedom of choice that has been granted to you by liberation, regardless of what you choose to do with that freedom and your life thereon. To live, or die, on your own terms -- a freedom that everyone deserves, and that none should have taken away by another. That is my definition of it. But what is yours?"

@devotionbled

#Encounters #Verse: From the Fire #devotionbled #I hope this reply is okay for you! adlkfg #If anything needs changing please don't hesitate to let me know!

[wondersofdreaming]

Third time’s the charm

Characters: Henry Cavill x 3rd person female reader (the reader in this story has been described as someone with long brown hair, hazel eyes and not very tall)

Word count: 1.705

Warnings: Fluff. Insecurity. Doubt. Chasing. Jumping. 

Author’s note: Thank you @radaofrivia​ for your guidance and your help <3

Go read her stories right here: Rada’s masterlist

Sentences in square brackets are Kal’s thoughts. Sentences in italics are Henry’s thoughts.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Not a cloud present. The birds were chirping in the trees, and people were chatting away around him.

His hulking size of a fluffball dog was trotting happily beside him. Kal’s long tongue was sticking out between his sharp fangs, panting and drooling all over the uneven pathway.

He watched as a couple walked past him. They were smiling, and the woman was laughing at a joke her boyfriend had just cracked. It made him long for a special someone in his life he could crack jokes to, a someone who would laugh at his sense of humour, someone with a genuine laugh.

Henry filled his nostrils with the fresh air. He felt the vibrations of children's laughter through the ground. His heart was yearning to hear the giggles of his own flesh and blood, and it clouded his already saddened mind.

He hadn’t noticed that Kal had been sniffing the ground. His ears perked with interest as his nose found a scent that made his mouth water. Kal galloped across the park without warning, making Henry lose his grasp on the leash.

[Something smells yummy!]

“Kal!” Henry yelled at the black and white dog, but it was too late. Kal was already out of sight, following his nose to whatever had caught his attention. Henry wandered around the park. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump out of his chest. A million scenarios ran through his mind: What if something happened to Kal? What if someone dog-napped Kal? What if Kal hurt someone?

Henry searched all over the park but to no avail until he heard a loud scream coming from behind a group of trees. Shit!

The run towards where the scream came from felt as if it took forever. Time was standing still as he neared the trees. He first noticed the bushy tail, then the rest of Kal’s body, standing atop a woman who was loving up all the licks Kal was giving her. She managed to push the large dog off her body, while her delicate hands were giving him scritches all over his fluffy fur coat.

“You’re such a good boy,” he heard her sweet silvery voice say, then a bark came from his wayward dog.

[Yes, Kal is a good booooy… oh yeah, right there. More scritches!]

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in since Kal went missing. Thank god!

“Kal!” Henry yelled over the sound of giggles coming from the woman. He started walking towards them but stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights when the woman looked up. Her hazel eyes shone with excitement, and the grin on her perfectly succulent lips made his heart skip a beat. Henry felt like he had been struck by lightning, suddenly unable to move as he watched the dark-haired angel stand. She dusted off the dirt from her jeans and walked towards him. She seemed unharmed even after having been hammered by Kal, who probably weighed more than she did.

“You must be this dog’s owner. He really scared me, when he suddenly jumped on my back,” she giggled a melodious sound.

Henry’s brain finally started working again, the gears turning behind his eyes as he was processing what she had just told him. Kal; his sweet mild-tempered fluffball, who wouldn’t hurt a fly; had jumped on this woman’s back, and yet she was still smiling and loving up the bear without being afraid. It didn’t seem she knew who he was, as he didn’t see the recognition sparkle in her eyes.

“I am so sorry that he jumped on your back, he normally doesn’t do that, I don’t know what came over him,” Henry knew he was babbling, he knew he needed to shut his mouth, but the words kept vomiting out between his lips.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t that scared. Besides, he is such a sweet dog, I don’t mind being jumbled,” she looked into his eyes, and his heart did a somersault as she smiled again.

“Be a good boy for your owner, Kal,” she told the bear, and then she was gone.

Henry was standing cemented to the place. He didn’t know what had just happened. Kal barked at him, his tongue dangling from between his lips; he was smiling.

“Well Kal, you sure do have great taste in women, but you should stick to the four-legged kind,” Henry reprimanded him softly. Kal wasn’t happy. There was a reason why he had gone rogue and run away from Henry. So, before Henry could pick up the leash, Kal darted through the bushes to find the mystery woman. Not again!

[But I didn’t get to know what smelled so good!]

Henry, having gotten out of his trance, followed his dog once again. Why was his dog so keen on pursuing that woman? It was starting to annoy him. Panic was beginning to make itself comfortable in his brain, what if the woman had something that would make Kal follow her on purpose? What if she was pretending not to know him, so she could steal his dog and ask for an insane ransom?

He rounded a corner just in time to see Kal jump on the brown-haired beauty, again.

“Oh, it’s you again, Kal,” she said with amusement hinting in her voice. Kal barked and went to sniff her jacket, burying his snout deep in her right pocket. He came back out with a bag of peanut butter cookies between his teeth.

[TREATS!]

“Kal! Stop! You pig, what are you doing?” Henry raised his voice sternly at his furry friend. He grabbed Kal’s collar and pulled him away from the lady, making Kal drop the bag of biscuits to the ground. Kal lunged forward, which made Henry think he was going to jump the woman again, so he moved between Kal and the lady, and gave his companion a hard stare, as to say not happening, pal.

“So that is what you were after all along,” she said and picked up the bag.

“I am so sorry, miss, are you alright?” Henry asked while jogging towards the two. She gave him an amused smile.

“I’m fine. He didn’t scare me as much this time. Apparently, he just wants some doggie biscuits. May I give him some? They’re homemade and don't contain anything that could harm a dog.”

“Oh, yes, of course, but he shouldn’t be rewarded for leaping on other people. I swear, he has been trained not to do that,” Henry was rambling again. He was spewing out nonsense while the gorgeous woman was telling Kal to sit before she rewarded him for listening. She even asked him to give her paw, which Kal did immediately, a rare thing as he only wants to listen when he’s in the mood, kind of like a cat. She is way too nice to want to abduct Kal.

“Good boy, Kal.”

[Miss with the treats is super nice. Hey human, can we take her home with us?]

“You said those were homemade, did you make them?” Henry asked.

“Oh, yes. I have a dog myself who is a picky eater. I’ve tried all kinds of doggie treats, but she would spit them out. I had no choice but to experiment on how to make dog biscuits,” the woman told him while she gestured for Kal to lie down, which he obeyed instantly.

“And does she like the homemade treats?”

“She gobbles them down like I didn’t feed her for a week. She’s becoming quite the diva.”

They talked a bit more about her dog, who was a rescue labradoodle, and about how it had changed her look on store-bought dog treats. It was healthier to make them yourselves, and people in her neighbourhood, who had dogs, had been asking if she would sell the biscuits to them. She had then started her own one-man company, making dog treats, and her most popular item was the peanut butter cookies. They were shaped like the femur bone, which was the most popular form for dog treats.

“I’m Henry by the way, may I ask what your name is?” Henry asked her carefully. She smiled brightly at him, and it chased all the dark thoughts he had earlier away from his mind. She told him her name, which was elegant and so fitting a person like her. He had been expecting the penny to drop when he mentioned his name, but she was oblivious as to who he was, which in turn made his heart leap with joy inside behind his chest.

She looked at her wristwatch and gasped.

[Oh boy…]

“Crap, I have to pick up my dog soon. It was nice talking to you, and please don’t let this beautiful boy out of your sight,” a chuckled left her lips as she walked away once again.

Kal licked his mouth for the crumbs that might have gotten stuck on the fur around his snout. He then looked up at Henry with an annoyed look.

“What?” Henry asked with a sigh. Kal tilted his head to the right. “I can’t just jump on her like you do and then ask for her phone number, that would just scare her away.”

Kal looked towards the woman, who was getting further and further away from them. He then let out a bark, and with a waggle of his puffy tail, he demanded that Henry make a choice before it was too late.

[You’re blowing it, human!]

Henry sighed and crouched down. 

“What should I do?” he asked the bear-like dog. Kal tilted his head to the side, looking at Henry as if he was crazy.

[Marry her! I want more treats!]

“You like her as well, don’t you, bear?”

Kal stood and bumped his head to Henry’s back, as to tell him to start moving, which made the human mountain chuckle, getting the hint from his dog. He released Kal from the leash and whispered: “Go get her.”

Kal licked his master’s face and darted towards the woman with the gorgeous brown curls.

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Third time's the charm #My story #Short story

[lady-o-ren]

The Dig

You can read this on ao3 // HERE //

Suffolk, England

1939

“What's going on in Sutton Hoo, then that has you in such a hurry?”

James Fsaser reluctantly looked up from where his head had been braced on his leather satchel, clutched atop his knees, and gave the old ferryman a one-eyed stare.

“I've a job. Digging,” he swallowed, trying mightily to keep himself from retching as the wee boat he was in bobbed up and down like a mad carousel.

“You came all the way from Scotland to dig like a dog?” He laughed hoarsely, hawking up a wad of phlegm into the murky river water as he swung his oars.

“Ipswich,” Fraser muttered, turning a bit more green.

Ipswich Museum to be exact.

He'd been hired to help excavate a centuries old burial site located at a rural estate in Sutton Hoo, overseen by the archeologist, Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. A woman much admired (or envied depending on the man) for her keen mind and boundless curiosity (and unrivaled stubbornness that often spiraled into outright defiance according to those same particular men) that had her uprooting half of Great Britain in pursuit of the secrets hidden beneath the mossy plains. And more often than not her instincts were right and another antiquity would be dusted off to be reborn again.

Fraser wasn't sure what he'd done to earn the right to work by her side but Christ, he wouldn't question how lucky he was.

The boat then suddenly coasted to an abrupt stop against the rivers side.

“Here we are, Mr. Fraser. All in one piece. And I thank you for keeping me boat and boots tidy,” said the old ferryman with a wink.

Fraser didn't bother with a retort, he was just happy that the world had blessedly stopped spinning and hopped onto wonderfully solid land.

Smoothing the wrinkles from his attire and fixing his father's old grey cap atop his head (taking special care to tuck in his dark ginger curls that always peeked out from just under the rim), he made his way down the brambled path that the old man said led to the big house. After a brief introduction with the owner of the estate, he was then directed to where he'd be working, and trotted past the trees and sprawling country green to an open field.

From afar, Fraser could see three burial mounds jutting from the earth, grassy topped with yellow dandelions sprouting all over.

But what made his breath catch was the sight of the woman he'd been so eager to meet.

She was surveying the site with her hands on her trousered waist looking like a general on the cusp of conquest. Sensing his approach, she turned away from her prize and future glory, her short curls bouncing and gleaming a rich shade of earth in the dewy sunlight, and met his gaze with her own.

Sharp with intelligence. Kindled with mirth. Shimmering like molten gold.

"A Dhia," Fraser whispered to the fragrant spring air, and took off his cap, twisting it between his hands that ached to trace and memorize every curve of the archeologist's face.

She waved him over seeing him linger and a terrible heat sprang to the young lad's face at having been caught staring at the beauty like a halfwit, and forced his legs to move. Prayed he didn't fall flat on his face.

"Hullo there," she greeted, and clasped her small hand to his, but there was nothing dainty about its grasp. Fraser could feel the years of hard-earned experience chiseled in her palm that held his hand firmly, letting him know exactly who he'd be working for.

It sent a thrill down his spine.

"I'm Dr. Claire Beauchamp. And you must be the very late Mr. Fraser I've been waiting for."

"Aye, and I beg yer pardon for that, ma’am," Fraser replied in earnest, detecting a subtle spike of irritation in her voice, seeing the annoyed flick of her brow. "The morning train was running late.” By three hours! “ Then I had to wait for the ferryman to take me across the river -" He'd been taking his "tea" in the pub " - all a lousy excuse, I ken, but I promise ye it willna happen again."

Beauchamp crossed her arms and tipped her head to the side giving Fraser a scrutinizing once over that made his throat bob and the blood in his heart to palpitate.

"Good," she smirked, nodding her approval from his noticeable discomfort. "If you're anything like how the stiffs at Ipswich Museum described we'll get along well."

He clenched his jaw at the mention of the museum, the cantankerous men who worked there. Especially a certain Dr. Randall, who valued a good cigar over the work of a “farm boy”.

"And what do they say of me, if I may ask?"

Beauchamp bit her full bottom lip (wonderfully pink Fraser bashfully noted), quirking wryly.

“Quite a lot depending on who you ask. From what I've gathered you're hardworking, painfully intelligent and have an innate knack for reading the earth. But that you're also highly unorthodox, difficult and the most insufferable Scotsman ever to step foot in Ipswich. So naturally I had to work with you."

He let out a tightly held breath and chuckled softly.

"Weel, who am I to argue wi' a reference like that. I'm passionate about my work and little else, apart from food and kin. And while I've never been disrespectful to reason, I haven't the patience for men who think a title is deserving of my unquestionable fealty."

"And why should you? The conviction of a Viking is something to be admired not belittled,” she praised, making Fraser glow. "I only wish I could've been there to witness how you earned the ire of half the museum.”

“I'm merely in the right and they the wrong, more often than not,” he shrugged.

“I'm just as terrible,” she proudly grinned. ”But I know we'll make a good team. We'll have to if we want to tackle this lot.”

She motioned her head at the site looming tall, brimming with excitement that spoke to Fraser's own spirit.

"If that's so then it'll be an honor working wi' ye, ma'am."

He shook her hand once more and thought he felt her thumb move against his knuckle, light and curious as a brush stroke.

//

Working with two assistants from her previous digs (the studious Jeremy Foster and the wide-eyed youth Elias Pound), Fraser and Beauchamp made great strides in plowing the core of the mound that was the larger of the three, even when logic argued that the dip in the middle meant thieves of the past had already plundered it's horde.

But Fraser's gut and bones told him that there was something different about this one.

Beauchamp had thought so too.

"There's something grand and marvelous here begging to be found. Don't you think? Can't you feel it?"

The deeper they dug only intensified that feeling.

As had his attraction to the irrepressibly brilliant Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.

However, after a fortuitous streak of good weather, the air started to blow with the sweet scent of rain and the leaves of the oak trees that dotted the lush clearing turned toward the skies, parched and longing.

"We have some time, I think, before the rain comes," said Beauchamp, gauging the skies westward still clear of thunderclouds.

Fraser leaned against his shovel in the hollow of earth he stood in, his dirt stained sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and could see the mad impulse to defy mother nature flash in her eyes.

"Usually I'd agree wi' ye, ma’am, but yer hair -" his mouth flicked upward in unbridled appreciation. "Is curling like a tumbleweed."

She pressed a dirt-flecked hand near her temple and felt the wild frizzy pushback of flyaway curls fallen loose from her twisted bun, springing around her face like a mane.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she huffed. “Have I been like this all morning, Fraser?”

"Pretty much," he grinned, enjoying how her usual regal self pinked across her freckled cheeks and the wee scrunch of her nose.

But Fraser's smile faltered, catching himself for a fool, and averted his attention down to the soil where his heart had fallen. Writhed. Burrowed with the worms and roots.

For what use was it for a man like him to yearn for a woman like her?

He swallowed the hopeless lump in his throat.

"Shall we go for lunch then, wait for the weather to clear?"

Hearing the word lunch, Foster and Pound looked up from their own end of the excavation with hunger in their eyes.

"Did that on purpose did you?" said Beauchamp, throwing an accusatory glance at the ginger lad while trying to gather her wayward curls back to partial respectability.

He gave her a half smile.

"The Almighty is the one making it rain, ma’am. Take it up wi' him."

She sighed and her hands fell to her waist as she took one last disappointing glance above.

"I would if He ever bothered to listen,” she frowned, then gave the other men a nod that made them hoot and holler.

“Numpties,” she mumbled, though did so fondly, and puffed at a rebellious forelock flirting with the wind.

After covering the ditch with a tarp secured to the ground, the men headed for the local pub raucously singing an old drinking song with a few choice words changed.

Our Lady must have been an Admiral, a Sultan or a Queen

And to her praises we shall always sing

A pint for our Lady Beauchamp who fills us up with cheer

A pint for our Lady Beauchamp . . .

Their lady laughed and rolled her eyes, before waving the lads off with a promise to catch up to gather her things, and headed to the shepherd's hut that had been provided by the estate.

Fraser glanced back watching her go, and after a moment's hesitation where he reasoned it would be rude to leave without her, he too told the others he'd forgotten something and went after Beauchamp.

Cursing himself an "EEJIT!" every step of the way.

//

Inside the hut was a small curtained window softly lighting the room from the back and two wooden scuffed chairs positioned along the side wall with a table snugly fit between them. Beauchamp herself was crouched by the table legs where Fraser had left his satchel but it was now laid open on its side, contents spilled over.

At his unexpected appearance that shadowed the doorway, she turned his way with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, I was just grabbing my bag when I tipped yours over and . . ."

She held up his small green fieldbook opened at the first page.

And white-hot panic flooded Fraser's veins.

"The writing caught my eye," she continued on, seemingly unaware that the poor lad was gripping the doorway for support. "I didn't know you spoke gaelic beyond the odd phrase here and there. That you can even write it too is something of a feat,” she said, impressed by the words secreted on the page.

“Aye,” he managed to breathe, relieved that she hadn't seen a thing. Not a thing! “I don't get much practice living away from home so I speak it in my mind and heart, write letters to my family when I can.”

“You've spoken of a sister, if I'm not mistaken. Older or younger?" She prodded, as if he were a new discovery, and he answered in hopes to distract her from what she still held in her hands.

Felt a fluttering warmth overtake him that she recalled him having a sister.

"Jenny,” he said, as he moved to kneel down beside her to stuff his scant belongings back in his bag. “She's older and feels the need to remind me of that fact whenever we see one another.”

“And you're the brat aren't you?”

Despite his predicament, Fraser couldn't help the grin spreading across his face.

"I was the devil's spawn, aye, but Jen was no angel. We once got into a terrible stramash about our chores on the farm, the way wee bairns do, and I ended up telling her she had a face uglier than a coo, smelled worse than one too. Next I knew, I was being tackled to the ground wi' my face shoved into a ripe pile of coo shite and my sister above me laughing her wicked wee arse off.”

Beauchamp broke into laughter and it made his stomach do a flip.

“I'm sorry, that must've been awful for you, but I think I may love your sister for that.”

“Everybody says so. Not sure it was worth it in the end myself . . .” said Fraser, his voice suddenly trailing off at the end seeing her attention turn back to the page.

His mind spiraled into action.

"But we really should get going before the rain catches us. It looks to be a downpour, a terrible one.”

“Well it's a good thing we're under a roof then isn't it?” She countered, eyes sparkling through her long lashes. “ Besides I'd rather have an impromptu lesson in gaelic on what,” she paused, squinting down at the book opened on her knees. “Baa-mia-’bruu -” means.”

“Bha mi a ’bruadar mun bhròn mhòr,” he begrudgingly corrected, wondering how rude it would be to just snatch his own fieldbook away. But then Beauchamp smiled as if charmed by his voice and echoed back his words with near perfect silky inflections, looking pleased as punch as she did so.

Endearing herself even more to the young Scot's already smitten heart.

“Verra good,” he hummed softly.

“Absolute luck,” she grinned, tapping her fingers atop his writing. “Now tell me what does it all mean?”

He shook his head embarrassed. "You'll think me daft, ma’am."

"I promise I won't."

She said it in such an earnest way, Jamie knew she spoke true. But then a deep rumble of thunder sliced through the air, enough to give Beauchamp a jolt that made her forefinger on the page slip and Fraser's stomach to rip and plummet to the old wood floor.

There, drawn on the page, was Beauchamp's face staring back at her.

“It’s nothing but some wee scribbles,” he stammered to explain, reaching for the book only for her to angle it away.

“You're right about that,” she agreed, her fine brows furrowing as she traced a slim finger to her pencil drawn cheek. “You've made one of my eyes bigger than the other, my nose a dash too long and -"

Her eyes went comically round as she pressed the pages to her chest, a sudden thought coming to her.

"You don't have anyone posed in the nude here do you?"

"O-Of course not! I'd never. I- I'd -"

"Breathe Fraser, I was only teasing you," she nearly giggled, but then her face softened with regret seeing his own face take on the horrible color of a split beet left to shrivel in the sun.

“But really, why bother with me?”

He had no answer but the one that pounded from his heart, a noise like a thousand drums that all struck the same adoring note. She could see it beaming from his face and a hushed silence fell between them as the rain finally came down, hitting the rooftop in a pitter-patter that enveloped her quietly spoken -

“Oh.”

That single utterance had Jamie wishing the rain would flood and swallow him up but it was now or never to speak his heart. No matter that hers would never be his to cherish.

Looking down at his hands, anxiously wringing the strap of his satchel, he spoke.

“There was never any helping it, me liking you. I'd never seen a sight sae fair as you, stubborn as you, nor wonderful as you. And I could never get ye out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried, but ye were always there like the sun and air."

He lifted his gaze to her likeness on the page.

"And then I just started filling my fieldbook wi' pictures of you if only to have something to remind me of you for when the job ends and we part ways. But I'm none so good as ye can see. I never could capture the grit and fire of yer spirit, the way yer curls bristle in excitement or the way yer eyes glow like a match to a candlewick . . . "

His heart tightened as his words faltered while Beauchamp remained quiet. Then like a blow to his chest she flipped through the small book once more, her face unreadable as stone. She looked through his sketches, one of her curls drawn like the ripples of the tide, another of her hands digging through the earth, and of her lush determined mouth curved into a beaming smile, bitten with impatience, beneath a perfect speckled nose.

And threaded between her gestures, her features were more bits of gaelic.

 A bòidhchead . . .

Tha pian orm . . .

Tha cho teann sa tha a ’bhriogais gam iomain

"I told you I was no good. I ken I should just rip up the pages -” Fraser began to miserably say, but Beauchamp hushed him by taking his hand in hers and softly stroked her thumb against the work-hardened skin. 

"You have a fine hand, Fraser. Especially for making my nose look as delicate as Garbo’s,” she smiled, cheeks touched lovely in pink.

Then in a moment that made it hard for Fraser to breathe, she simply said . . .

“Ask me for a drink.”

He blinked, thinking he misheard her, mouth agape. But there was no mistaking what brightened her eyes to shine like whisky.

“Ask me,” she repeated impatiently, almost laughing, as she squeezed his hand. 

Fraser inhaled sharply and tentatively squeezed her small hand back.

“Will ye join me for a pint, ma’am?”

“Claire,” she grinned, and coyly tilted her head . “And of course I will. Took you long enough to ask,” she winked, making Fraser stare at her in charmed disbelief.

And then Beauchamp closed the distance between them, hand light as a feather against his chest.

“But first you ought to kiss me, Fraser. It's still raining and I might catch a chill from all this waiting."

Still staring at her mesmerized, with questions that could wait another day flitting through his mind, Fraser wove an errant bonnie curl around his fingers and smoothed it behind her ear. Letting his thumb drag against her cheek.

“It's Jamie,” he murmured, in a brush of his lips to hers. 

And on and on it went.

//

Bha mi a ’bruadar mun bhròn mhòr. . .

I dreamt about the mourning. The deaths of great men. Terrible men. Old and young. Of Kings lost in battle buried beneath us. They cried out to me and the Earth came to life and twisted her roots around me, dragging me inside her womb. Dark and cold, breathless like a cave. But I wasn't frightened. I saw lights rushing around me, bright as the twilight sky. The souls that lie ahead. Surrounding us.

They brought me to you.

//

A/N: This had a ton of notes and explanations so you can read all those on ao3. But for sure I’ll say here this is very loosely based on the movie The Dig.

#jamie x claire #Outlander #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Four

“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.

Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.

And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.

The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.

And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.

But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.

For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.

No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.

And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.

“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.

And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.

Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.

It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.

Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.

The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.

I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.

Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.

But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.

“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.

“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.

“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.

And it’s still not enough to thaw me.

“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.

“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”

I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.

Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.

Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.

But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.

It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.

“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.

“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”

I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.

After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.

“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”

I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”

“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.

I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.

“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.

“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”

I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.

Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.

“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.

Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”

To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“

But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”

I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.

“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.

I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.

“That’s the best thing about her.”

/

It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.

“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.

Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.

“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.

“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.

“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.

No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.

When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.

And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.

And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”

Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.

In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.

But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.

However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”

That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”

In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.

“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.

I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”

“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.

“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.

In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.

And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.

It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.

Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.

And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.

“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.

“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.

Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.

It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.

I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.

Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.

I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.

“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”

“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”

“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.

“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”

I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”

Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.

“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”

“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”

“And what are you providing?”

“The residence the meal is served at.”

“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.

And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.

Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.

“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.

But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.

Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.

I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.

And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.

For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.

“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.

It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.

Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.

Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.

Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.

I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.

Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.

Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.

“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.

“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.

I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.

The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.

He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.

Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.

My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”

Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”

As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.

I can’t even fight my eye roll.

“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”

Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.

Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”

And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.

Read More On AO3

#everlark #thg #everlark fic #hunger games #fanfic #writing #dancing on my own 💔👸🏼✨

[saki-chan16]

Empty Bottles Ch. 2

First parts are here and here.

Let me know what ya think <3

Chapter 2

Kakashi Hatake takes pride in his intellect.

Being hailed a genius from a young age, he never felt the need to question his intelligence. His instincts are sharp, his awareness keen, and his deduction skills impeccable – those are musts when being a tracker and assassin. He trusts his instincts.

So when he meets his Genin team and feels an instant off-ness to one of them, his senses are on high alert.

The first two are predictable. His old sensei’s son has always wanted to become Hokage, and anyone who knows the boy (or can hear) knows how much he loves Iruka. And Sasuke, well, Kakashi working with his older brother gives him better insight into what the boy is and isn’t saying. Itachi and Shisui are aware of the torch he holds for them; they train with him when they can and, even if they won’t admit it, have a soft spot for the youngest Uchiha.

His last one though…Kakashi picks up on the other twos curiosity and wonders why they are looking at her as though they’ve never heard her speak before. Once he hears her speak – it sounds as though she doesn’t use her voice often. Her answers concern him too. As she answered, he sniffed at the air and had a hard time pinpointing what he was sensing.

When she got to her dream, he knew she lied. Her tells weren’t blatant – surprising, considering her age – but it was easier for him to nail it down when he finally understood what he was smelling: fear.

His little pink haired student was scared.

He wants to know why.

After they had introduced themselves, he told them to meet at a training ground the next day so they could come up with a training plan for them. He asked them to show up to training with an idea of their strengths and weaknesses, where they want to improve, and a few short term goals.

The bell test will have to wait. I need to figure out why she was so scared today.

Kakashi is on his way to the Jounin lounge – he knows just who to talk to.

It doesn’t take long to reach his destination. A quick walk through the door and down the hall, and he steps through the doors of the place he usually avoids.

“MY YOUTHFUL RIVAL, YOU’RE HERE!”

And there is the main reason he tends to avoid this place.

Kakashi looks over to his loud friend and sees he’s sitting with a small group of Jounin – one of which is the one he’s looking for. He walks towards them.

“Yo,” he greets, usual eye crinkle in place, “it’s nice to see you too, Guy.”

He stops at the table and takes the empty seat. He looks around and greets the others, “Asuma, Kurenai, Iruka, Genma – it’s nice to see you guys too.”

All of them nod at him, but they’re giving him a look. Kakashi can feel the eyes on him and sighs internally.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; I don’t usually come to them. They always seem to be chasing me around the village.

Guy, ever the best of friends and keen observer of all things Kakashi, breaks the silence.

“Kakashi,” he says in a normal tone, “what brings you here? It must be important for you to come and search us out.”

Kakashi could kiss the man.

He’s too good to me.

Kakashi looks at all of the people around the table and makes eye contact with each of them. He weighs what he wants to say before breaching the subject. What he’s asking could be nothing, or it could mean the start of a very ugly process; he doesn’t want to do this lightly.

Genma and Iruka share a look but wait to see what Kakashi wants. They’re silently hoping he brings up the topic of his female student – something he noticed or even a question to show that he saw something. If he did, then there’s a greater chance their thoughts aren’t unfounded.

“I have a…potential issue,” is what he settles on.

Iruka turns fully towards Kakashi and asks levelly, “A potential issue with what, Kakashi-san?”

An outward sigh leaves his lips before he answers, “The girl on my team, Haruno, Sakura, do you know anything about her?”

Kurenai, Asuma, and Guy look on the conversation with interest. They pick up on Iruka and Genma’s sudden interest and gather that they know something about the girl. Their interests piqued, they lean in slightly closer.

“I get the feeling you don’t mean academically, Kakashi,” Iruka responds. He can’t help the note of resignation in his voice. His fears being confirmed doesn’t feel pleasant, it means there might actually be something happening with the girl. And if he’s right, something that has been going on for way too long.

A slight narrowing of his eye, Kakashi looks to the academy teacher and says, “No, not academically speaking. I had the three of my students introduce themselves to me as an ice breaker – to feel them out. Sakura-chan…when we got to the roof her presence seemed odd.”

He pauses to think about how he wants to word the next part but decides bluntness might be best

“The boys went first; nothing surprising. When it was her turn, the first odd thing was that the boys were very curious to hear her answers. Not in the ‘she’s-cute-I-want-to-learn-more’ way, but in a ‘I’ve-never-heard-her-talk-before’ way.”

“Sakura-chan didn’t speak much during the academy,” Iruka confirms, “she preferred non-verbal forms of communication. The only person she ever spoke to was me.”

That’s a red flag.

Asuma speaks up, “She only spoke to you? That’s a little odd.”

Iruka nods and follows it up with, “She was always formal in her speech too – she always seemed tense. Most kids avoided her because of it and she never tried to reach out to anyone.”

Kurenai takes in these things and feels her gut start to drop. She doesn’t want to jump the gun, but her gut is screaming at her to say something.

“What about her other teachers?” she asks. “What did they have to say about her speaking?”

A wave of anger and irritation floods the table. Genma and Iruka can’t hold their emotions back, old wounds being ripped open after so long.

“Her other teachers,” Iruka hisses – hisses, “said that I was crazy. That they saw nothing wrong with her not speaking because her exams and homework were exemplary; they thought I was being paranoid for bringing it up.”

Genma adds, “They found her silence, and I quote, ‘endearing because it means she’s listening and making for a very obedient student’ as though she’s a dog.”

The wave of emotion intensified as the other Jounin listens to their colleagues' words. Varying degrees of rage and disbelief sweep the group at this revelation.

“Anyway,” Kakashi continues, “she introduced herself, but it felt off. I was trying to figure out the emotion she was oozing as she did so, and it didn’t click until I heard her blatantly lie about her dream.”

Kakashi looks down at his hands as he pauses.

“Sakura-chan was terrified,” he says softly. “I don’t know why, or of what, but as she was talking I could smell her fear increasing.”

The group of Jounin feels Kakashi’s confusion as they experience the same thing. What could the girl be so afraid of? Why doesn’t she like to talk? What could be going on? They know it’s serious too because Kakashi actually came to find them in a place he usually doesn’t frequent.

Said man looks up from his hands and meets Iruka’s eyes before asking, “What can I do to find out the reason?”

A heavy silence falls on the group. Each individual takes in the facts and knowledge at their disposal. Thinking through possible outcomes, possible courses of action to take. Delicate matters require delicate hands.

“I have an idea,” Kurenai pipes up, “I assume because you’ve told all of us about this, you’re okay with us helping, Kakashi-san?”

She asks to be polite. Inside, she’s already decided to help this little girl and get to the bottom of her situation. Her mother hen side is starting to poke through, but she couldn’t care less – a child needs help, she’ll get the child help. It doesn’t matter to her if she has to do it alone or not.

“Ah, you would be correct Kurenai-san.”

“Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking…”

. . & . .

#empty bottles #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #sakura haruno #sakura haruno centric #TW abuse #kakashi hatake #iruka umino #maito gai #might guy #kurenai yuhi #asuma sensei #genma shiranui #TW child abuse #kakashi tries to be a good sensei #genma and iruka are ready to fight #kurenai takes no shit and plays no games #they're ready to fuck some shit up #they just want to help her #fanfiction

[haunted-medievalist]

tag game time!

i was tagged by the lovely @contre-qui, with the aim of tagging nine people to learn about their interests - i'm unlikely to find that many people myself but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it! going under the cut because this is a pretty long(ish) one.

music!

fave genre a little bit of everything but right now especially medieval folk & pop rock

fave artist a strange mixture of måneskin, kraftklub, siames, cavetown, and rainbow kitten surprise

fave song hard choice, but probably 'brothers' by siames & eddy capparelli

most listened to song recently either 'coraline' by måneskin or 'king orfeo' from the child ballads

song currently stuck in your head 'happy pills' by weathers

five fave lyrics oh boy, this is gonna take some thought.

"called to the devil and the devil said / hey! why you been calling this late? / it's like 2a.m. and the bars all close at ten in hell, that's a rule i made / anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / and you don't want no help, oh well / that's the story to tell" ('it's called: freefall' by rainbow kitten surprise)

"today i coo, today i caw / i have a pistol party and i kill 'em all / i think i might be scared / of the man and the men with their hands inside / and the women, oh, the women all they do is cry / and i, well i lose my mind" ('little pistol' by mother mother)

"so did you pack your bag, or did somebody pack it for you? / take me to the sad, sad party that you're bound to / whether you're a 'have-not' or a 'have', i got a question / are you living dead, or is this some kind of possession?' ('blast doors' by everything everything)

"but what if i run out of fertiliser? / what if the clouds run out of rain? what if lemon boy won't grow no longer? what if beaches dry of sugar cane?" ('lemon boy' by cavetown)

"now they tell you that you're their muse / yeah, they're so inspired / but where were they when they called your name / and they lit the fire? / when the voices came, you cut your hair / but you're stilled confused" ('joan of arc' by arcade fire)

books!

fave book genre fantasy all the way

fave writer bernardine evaristo, leigh bardugo, madeline miller

fave book oh dear, here we go. 'circe' by madeline miller, 'six of crows' and 'crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo, 'girl, woman, other' by bernardine evaristo, 'good omens' by neil gaiman & terry pratchett, 'the raven cycle' series by maggie stiefvater, 'oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson, and a whole lot of old norse literature of dubious authorship (but especially 'gisla saga' and 'hrafnkels saga freysgoða', and pretty much all of the eddic poems in the volsung cycle)

fave book series it's a tie between leigh bardugo's grishaverse novels and maggie stiefvater's 'the raven cycle'

comfort book 'the secret kingdom' by jenny nimmo

rainy day book any of my norse books, sagas or poetry

fave characters nina zenik in the grishaverse, ronan lynch in 'the raven cycle', gisli in 'gisla saga' (not sure if that counts as a character or historical figure, dependent on perspective...?), and circe in, y'know, 'circe'

five quotes from your fave books?

"i thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but i see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands" ('circe' by madeline miller)

"'spreader of swords, it is your own sons' / corpse-bloody hearts you've chewed up with honey, / proud man, you've consumed dead men's meat, / eating it as ale-dainties, sending it to the high seat' [...] with the point of a blade she gave the bed a bloody drink, / with a hel-keen hand, and set the dogs free; / she woke the servants, and in front of the hall-door / she flung a burning brand: she paid them back for her brothers. / to the fire she gave everyone who was inside, / who'd come from myrkheim after murdering gunnar and his men; / the ancient timbers fell, the temples smoked, / the buildings burned of budli's kin, and the shield-maids inside; / their lives stemmed, sinking into hot flames." (gudrun avenges her brother in 'atlakviða', a poem in the old norse poetic and elder eddas)

"you aren't a flower, you're every blossom in the wood blooming at once. you are a tidal wave. you're a stampede. you are overwhelming." ('crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo)

"from the passenger seat, ronan began to swear at adam. it was a long, involved swear, using every forbidden word possible, often in compound-word form. as adam stared at his lap, penitent, he mused that there was something musical about the ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. it was far less hateful sounding than when he didn't swear." ('the raven cycle' by maggie stiefvater)

"but where was god now, with heaven full of astronauts, and the lord overthrown? i miss god. i miss the company of someone utterly loyal. i still don't think of god as my betrayer. the servants of god, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. i miss god who was my friend. i don't even know if god exists, but i do know that if god is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it. i have an idea that one day it might be possible, i thought once it had become possible, and that glimpse has set me wandering, trying to find the balance between earth and sky. if the servants hadn't rushed in and parted us, i might have been disappointed, might have snatched off the white samite to find a bowl of soup." ('oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

tv and movies!

fave tv/movie genre fantasy, travel/road trip & comedy

fave movie the secret life of walter mitty, supernova, any and all ghibli films, scott pilgrim vs. the world, lord of the rings, the how to train your dragon trilogy

comfort movie the lion king (original), how to train your dragon, from up on poppy hill, kiki's delivery service

movie you watch every year elf, howl's moving castle, love simon

fave tv show she-ra and the princesses of power, skam, bee and puppycat (i guess more of a web series than a tv show?), adventure time, the it crowd

comfort tv show adventure time

most rewatched tv show skam, every october without fail

five favourite characters catra (she-ra and the princesses of power), sana (skam original), marceline (adventure time), moss (the it crowd), inej (shadow and bone netflix adaptation)

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or bingeing | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

tagging (absolutely no pressure, this is a pretty long one!): @crowcaves, @the-obsidian-soul, @natscbi, @somehowmags, @gabrilearnelle, @clockwords, @starsspace... and that's it, that's as close to nine as i'm getting, but if anyone else just feels like doing it then feel free to consider yourself tagged!

#tag game #long post #tysm for the tag!!!!

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

The hazy-looking rain poured down in Dream Land. Kirby was staying in his house, looking at the scene of the rain through the window glass. While not being able to go outside was unfortunate, Kirby held no hatred for rainy days. The plants, wet with rain, had such vibrant colors. Besides, after the rain stops, you’ll be able to see a lovely rainbow.

“When the rain stops, I’m going to have a picnic. I’ll invite Waddle Dee, bring boxed lunches, and… huh?”

Kirby strained his eyes. In the grassy field far ahead, he could see the silhouettes of some people. He couldn’t make out who they were because of the rain, but they appeared to be three animals. In a group together, they approached Kirby’s house.

“Those guys… maybe…”

Gradually, he could make out the three figures more clearly.

“I knew it, it’s them!”

Letting out an excited shout, Kirby ran away from the window and to the door. He didn’t mind getting wet as he jumped outside, waving his hand, and raised his voice.

“Hey, hey! Rick, Kine, Coo! You guys came to visit me!”

Approaching were Kirby’s friends.

Standing in the front with his slick coat of fur was the proud Rick. Following from the back, flapping his fins, was the carefree Kine. Flying in the air was the keen Coo. They were inhabitants of the Rainbow Islands. Kirby had been friends with them for a long time, but, due to living across the sea, he rarely got to see them.

“I’m so happy you guys came!” Kirby shouted with a merry voice. “C’mon, come in, come in! Let’s talk over some snacks! When the rain stops, let’s go play outside!”

“...Kirby,” Rick said. It was rare for him, who was usually so lively, to speak with such a serious voice.

“We’re not here to visit.”

“Huh?”

“Kirby… help us,” Kine said to Kirby, looking exhausted, much to Kirby’s surprise.

“We need your help to save the Rainbow Islands,” the calm Coo added, “please, Kirby.”

“...huuuuuh?”

Kirby blinked in surprise.

“Anyways,” Rick said, “please listen to us. There’s a lot of serious stuff happening at our home!”

~~~~~

After some warm drinks, the three finally regained their energy.

“Whew, feels like I was brought back to life! Either way, that rain was goooood!” Kine said, waving his fins energetically.

“It’s raining in Dream Land,” Rick said as he ravenously munched on his snack: a cookie, “are all the unusual events really only happening on the Rainbow Islands?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Coo nodded, loudly sipping a cup of bitter tea.

“What kinds of stuff?” Kirby asked. “What’s wrong on the Rainbow Islands?”

“...the rain,” Rick responded, “it just stopped raining completely.”

“The rain? Hmm…”

Kirby was confused as to why the three had such serious looks on their faces.

“I mean, that’s good. You can play outside every day, drying laundry is easier-”

“No. It’s not that simple.”

“On the Rainbow Islands, it hasn’t rained for quite a while now. The ground is cracked, and the rivers and lakes are drying up,” Coo said gravely.

“That’s right.”

Rick nodded with a dark look on his face.

“Everyone’s been feeling sick because even drinking water has become hard to find, our health’s been declining. Even my girlfriend Pick is… even Pick is… in low spirits.”

Rick’s voice sounded choked. Rick and Pick had a very close relationship. No way, did something happen to Pick? Kirby wondered anxiously.

“Is something wrong with Pick?!”

“Pick’s… lost her appetite, and she’s gotten thinner. Well, even if she’s lost weight, she’s still a cutie. Heheh…”

Rick laughed, seemingly-happily.

“Us fish have gotten more serious~”, Kine said, “my wife and I are fine because we’re training to live on land, but everyone else isn’t. The fish living in the lakes and rivers are tired of sipping up what little water’s left~.”

“That’s not the only problem,” Rick said in vexation, “the rainbow bridges that connect our islands are disappearing!”

“Huh…?”

“Because rain is an important component of rainbows. If there’s no rain, the rainbows will disappear!”

Kirby, at last, understood just how serious the situation was.

The islands that Rick and the other lived on were connected by pretty rainbow bridges. If the rainbow bridges were to disappear, the islands would be disconnected, and the inhabitants wouldn’t be able to visit each other.

“That is a big deal!”

“Yeah. This is a dire situation, and we can’t do anything about it on our own. So, we thought we could get you to help us out.”

“We’ve traveled such a long way~,” Kine said, “I thought, ‘maybe, just maybe, things have also been drying up where Kirby lives,’ and I got all anxious about it. But it’s raining around here, the rivers and lakes are sparkling, it’s all been fine~.”

“It seems that this strange phenomenon has only been occurring on the Rainbow Islands.”

Coo looked at Kirby with a sharp gaze.

“Please, Kirby, help us out.”

“Alright, I’ll do it!”

Kirby nodded in agreement with no hesitation.

“If the rainbow bridges disappear, that’s really bad for everyone! C’mon, let’s go!”

“Thanks, Kirby,” the three said together, with relieved looks on their faces.

Kirby and co. ran outside with energy, despite the rain pouring down.

~~~~~

Crossing the grassy fields, heading toward the sea, Kirby and the others encountered an unexpected group.

“Oh, if it isn’t Kirby. Where are you going in this kind of rain?”

The person speaking was Captain Vul of the Halberd. With him were Trident Knight and Mace Knight. They worked under Meta Knight.

“Hey Captain Vul! We’re on our way to the Rainbow Islands! What are you guys doing here in Dream Land?”

“We’ve received orders from Lord Meta Knight. We’ve come to fulfill our duties.”

“What do you guys have to do?”

“Pfft, as if we’re careless enough to tell you,” he said, shaking his head pompously, “Our mission is to remain private-”

“We came here to buy a cake,” Mace Knight said from behind the captain.

“Y-You lubber!! How could you just spill our important mission to the enemy!?” Captain Vul scolded, startled.

“Kirby’s not our enemy.”

“We’ve received intel that Chef Kawaski’s begun selling a new cake,” Trident Knight interjected, “so, we’ve been ordered to purchase it.”

“Really? So Meta Knight likes cake too!”

“No way!” The three collectively shouted in response.

“Lord Meta Knight is the coolest swordsman in the galaxy!” Captain Vul said harshly. “He doesn’t eat sweets!”

“Huh? But-”

“The cake is meant for us,” Trident Knight explained.

“Lord Meta Knight is a really kind boss,” Mace Knight added, “so he gave us money to buy some cake for ourselves.”

“Hmm, ok,” Kirby said with a cheerful voice, “I mean, that’s a shame.”

“A shame? What do you mean?” Captain Vul asked in response, looking confused.

“His new cake’s sold out because I ate it all this morning!”

“...wh-what?!”

The three were shocked, staggered.

“It’s gonna take about a month to gather all of the ingredients again, so you won’t be able to buy his new cake for a while.”

“WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY!?!”

Captain Vul, now with a furious expression on his face, grabbed Kirby.

“You’re getting in the way of our important mission!! You’re still our enemy, you bilge-sucking pink ball!!”

Mace Knight and Trident Knight held up their weapons.

“You are our enemy after all!! A detestable one, at that!!”

“This won’t be tolerated, you wretched fiend!!”

“Can’t you guys get Meta Knight to help us out?” Kirby asked, skipping about to dodge the three’s attacks. “I’ll tell you the truth: There’s a lot of bad stuff happening on the Rainbow Islands and-”

“Hey! Look alive!”

“Who are those guys!? Are they in cahoots with you, you scurvy dog!?” Captain Vul asked thornily in reaction.

“I’ll ask you too, old man,” Rick said, “if the famous swordsman Meta Knight were to help us, that’d be as good as having the help of 100 people.”

“Caw! Lord Meta Knight is a swordsman known across the galaxy, and I’m his most famous subordinate, Captain Vul!! Don’t call me ‘old man’ or anything of the sort!!”

“I’d like to ask you too~, Mr. Captain," Kine said, "when you go back, tell Meta Knight~. The Rainbow Islands need his help.”

“Hmph, permission denied. We’ve been going on a wild-goose chase. Go home, you lot.”

Captain Vul’s group started to leave in a huff.

“We can’t get you to cooperate, can we?” Coo grumbled. “How unfortunate. If we had that Meta Knight person’s assistance, our morale would be much better...”

“Guess we can’t do anything about it. We’ll just have to do our best!”

Kirby was about to start walking again when another group came along the grassland path: King Dedede and his underlings, the Waddle Dees. The Waddle Dees were carrying a large folded umbrella, a beach chair, and other similar items. Kirby, noticing this, decided to call out to him.

“Yoo-hoo, King Dedede! Where are you going?”

“Uh? What, Kirby?”

King Dedede stopped. For some reason, he was wearing flashy sunglasses and carrying a life preserver. He took off his sunglasses, smiled, and laughed.

“It’s none of your business, but I’ll tell you one thing: I’m going on vacation!”

“Vacation?”

“Yeah. It was raining a lot, and I got bored. So, I came up with the idea to go to the Rainbow Islands to have some fun and relax!”

King Dedede then noticed that Rick and the others were there with Kirby.

“Huh? Aren’t you guys from the Rainbow Islands? Funny coincidence! I was just going to the Rainbow Islands right now! Funny how I just came across you guys visiting from there!”

“We’re not visiting,” Rick said, “things on the Rainbow Islands are terrible right now. It’s not the right time to go on vacation there.”

“...what?”

“It just hasn’t been raining at all~,” Kine said, “so we came to ask Kirby to help us. King Dedede, won’t you help us too?~”

“It won’t rain, you said? Why?”

“We have no idea,” Rick answered, “but we want to get to the bottom of it. Help us…”

However, King Dedede had a happy look on his face.

“It won’t rain, huh? This is great! Now isn’t that just perfect for a vacation!”

“...It isn’t that simple.”

“Without rain, all living things suffer,” Coo rebuked, “the rainbow bridges are starting to disappear. A terrible disaster is happening on the Rainbow Islands.”

However, his words wouldn’t reach the ears of the king, whose thoughts were centered around vacation. Putting his sunglasses back on, King Dedede shouted with all his might:

“The dazzling sunlight! The blue sea! The white sandy beach! This is the best! I’ll swim in the sea, go surfing, and when I get tired I’ll take a break on my beach chair. I’ll blow away that hot weather with some shaved ice and cold juice! My attractive swimsuit figure shall grab the beach’s gaze for itself! C’mon, let’s get to the Rainbow Islands ASAP!~”

Suddenly, before the king could start running, the figure of a person blocked his path.

“Hey, don't get in my way!” the king said in apparent disapproval, about to fall forward. “Hmm? Wait, aren't you the captain of Meta Knight’s ba-”

“Captain Vul.”

Revealing himself dignifiedly, Captain Vul looked at the king.

“It seems that the situation is too dire to ignore.”

“...what?”

“Aren’t there terrible things happening on the Rainbow Islands right now? I’m reporting this to Lord Meta Knight immediately. I must request that you rescue the suffering citizens!”

“...whaaa?”

Kirby was flabbergasted.

“Why? Earlier you said you wouldn’t help-”

“Captain,” Mace Knight whispered to Captain Vul, “by any chance are you just excited to go on a vacation?”

“Shut it. As Lord Meta Knight's right-hand man, it is my duty to report such a serious situation as this! You two, hurry back to the Halberd!”

“If Lord Meta Knight heads to the Rainbow Islands, we must accompany him as well!” Trident Knight said excitedly.

“I’ll cut the watermelons! And play beach volleyball!” Mace Knight said.

“Let’s go diving too! I’m good at diving~.”

“We’ll eat ikayaki! Takoyaki too!”

With a stern face, Captain Vul rebuked the pair:

“You scallywags!! They would certainly have sazaeno-tsuboyaki there- e-er, ahem. Anyway, hurry back to the Halberd!”

“Aye!”

Captain Vul and co. ran away at a high speed. Coo took a deep breath.

“Good grief. This is no time for a vacation... Anyhow, I am glad we have Meta Knight’s assistance. Say, Kirby-”

Coo stopped talking when he looked at Kirby. Kirby’s eyes were sparkling, and he looked as if he were about to drool.

“Ikayaki! Takoyaki! Sazaeno-tsuboyaki! Let’s go right now, quick! To the Rainbow Islands!” Kirby exclaimed excitedly, jumping up really high. He ran off quickly, at a speed faster than even Captain Vul and the two knights.

“W-Wait!!” King Dedede said, flustered. “The midsummer beach and the food all belong to me!! I won’t let you beat me there!!”

King Dedede dashed away, with his Waddle Dees following behind.

“Please wait for us, Great King!”

"We’ll come with you too!”

“I’ll come with you too!”

“I'll come with you too!”

“Shaved ice and watermelon slices, oh my!”

In a blink of an eye, they disappeared from sight, leaving the animal trio behind.

“Can we really count on them?” Rick asked, disheartened.

“It’ll be fine!... probably,” Kine answered, jumping about energetically.

“The fate of the Rainbow Islands is in their hands,” Coo said, “for now, all we can do is believe in them.”

The trio exchanged looks before chasing after Kirby and the others.

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#kirby #rick (kirby) #kine #coo #king dedede #captain vul #mace knight #trident knight #Kirby: Save the Rainbow Islands! #kirby light novel #translations

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts wakes up to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake freezes solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban, (Y/n) watching with a smirk on her face. The few owls that had managed to battle their way though the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

"I do feel so sorry," says Draco Malfoy during a Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home, or those who have to stay at someone else's house because they have no parents," he adds, (Y/n) staring at her perfected potion, her eyes flashing a silver before flickering back to green; Hermione shoots him a hateful glare.

The blond had been staring at Harry and (Y/n) as he had spoke, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling. Harry, who had been measuring powdered spine of lion-fish, ignores him. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing (Y/n) as Seeker next; then he'd realized that nobody had found this funny, because everyone had been so impressed on how well (Y/n) had managed to stay on her broom. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry and (Y/n) about having, either, no proper family, or no family at all.

(Y/n) had just turned in a vile of her potion, Snape looking at it, then nods, scribbling a 100 into his grade-book, nodding to the girl. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he announces to the class, everyone looking up, "for Miss (L/n)'s perfect potion." (Y/n) shoots a smirk at Malfoy, who had been trying to outdo her in Potions from the first class. Hermione, Harry, Ron, and the Spences hiding smiles as steam practically gushes from Malfoy's ears.

When they leave the dungeons at the end of Potions, they find a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound tells them that Hagrid is behind it.

"Hey Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asks, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Malfoy's cold drawling voice comes from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dives at Malfoy just as Snape comes up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron lets go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"Professor, Malfoy was insulting his family," (Y/n) says, taking a step forward towards the Potions Master.

"Five points from Slytherin," Snape tells Malfoy, and Malfoy sends a hateful glare at (Y/n).

The Potions Master walks away and Malfoy turns to (Y/n).

"What's wrong Draco?" (Y/n) asks in false sympathy. "Feel bad being worse than a orphaned Mudblood?" she asks, stepping towards the blond.

"Shut up!" He says. "My father will hear about this (L/n), and then you'll be sorry," he says.

(Y/n) glances around, "Look's like he's not here. See you around, Blondie," (Y/n) says, turning around and walking back towards Hagrid and her friends, all of them were staring at her with wide eyes.

"That was bloody brilliant," Ron says, and (Y/n) laughs. "I'll get him," Ron says suddenly, grinding his teeth. "One of these days, I'll get Malfoy -"

"I hate them both, Snape and Malfoy," says Harry.

"Come on, cheer up. It's nearly Christmas," says Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the six of them follow Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick are busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looks spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stand around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asks.

"Just one," says Hermione. "And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, (Y/n) we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," says Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who has golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and is trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" says Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry tells him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looks shocked. "Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it.It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"Actually," (Y/n) interjects. "That's what their doing. Snape gave me extra homework over the break." (Y/n) rolls here eyes.

"Looks like being a Potions prodigy might not be such a good thing," Ron says, and (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," says Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry adds. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," say Ron, and they leave Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurries off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. (Y/n) has the strangest feeling that she had heard or seen that name somewhere in her extra Potions homework. Flamel wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time;he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione takes out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. (Y/n) had taken out her Potions homework.

Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," answers Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandishes a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on — out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, Hermione, and the twins had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them,but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Harry waits outside in the corridor to see if the other four had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really need was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) join him, Ron and Hermione shaking their head; they go off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while we're away, won't you?" asks Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," says Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

(Y/n) lets out a laugh as Hermione continues.

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," says Hermione.

That evening has Hermione and (Y/n) and (Y/n) packing, getting ready to leave the following morning.

(Y/n) flops down on her bed and Marvel jumps up, her paws placed on (Y/n)'s cheeks.

(Y/n) smiles at Hermione as throws a blanket over (Y/n) and her cat.

The next morning, Hermione wakes up (Y/n) and (Y/n) places Marvel in her basket.

(Y/n) places the straps on her guitar and slings it over her back.

The two take their packed trunks downstairs, making sure to say goodbye to Harry and Ron before they leave.

The sisters take the carriages down to the Hogwarts' Express and they board the train.

(Y/n) pulls out her Potions homework and works through it, but gets stuck on the last question. She runs her hands through her sleek (H/c) hair.

Thinking for a while, she finally finally finishes the question, pulls her trunk off the shelf, and puts her homework inside.

"I feel so accomplished," (Y/n) grumbles,  sitting back down and leaning her head against the window.

Marvel jumps out of her travel basket and hops into Hermione's lap.

(Y/n) glances at her guitar resting next to her in her seat before she picks it up and begins to strum.

Hermione smiles as (Y/n) finishes playing and then (Y/n) places the guitar on her back.

"Come on 'Mione," (Y/n) says pulling down her and her sister's trunks and Marvel's carrying basket.

Hermione's smile widens as she grabs her trunk and Marvel jumps onto her shoulder.

Hermione jumps down after (Y/n) and (Y/n)'s arm shoots out to steady Hermione as she stumbles.

Hermione beams at her sister and (Y/n) shakes her head, an amused light in her eyes.

The two walk through the barrier and it seems to be more dreary in the Muggle world then on Platform 9 and 3 Quarters.

"What happened?" (Y/n) murmurs to Hermione as they walk towards their parents.

"Hi Mum! Hi Dad!" Hermione says cheerfully and (Y/n) gives a little wave.

Mr. Granger gives (Y/n) a hug, and (Y/n) returns it warmly.

Mrs. Granger greets her adopted daughter with a kiss to the forehead and a hug.

"Hi Mum, Dad!" (Y/n) greets with a warm smile.

"Hi, girls," Mrs. Grangers says. "Let's get home."

"Best thing I've heard all day," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Mr. Granger laughs and the four - plus Marvel - walk out to the car.

"I dunno," Hermione says. "Your guitar playing skills are pretty great."

"Oh stop," (Y/n) says with a smile.

"I guess we'll have to hear it at home," Mrs. Granger says as Hermione and (Y/n) load their trunks into the boot of the car.

(Y/n) gently sets her guitar on the top of her trunk before Mr. Granger closes the boot.

(Y/n) climbs into the car next to her sister and Marvel jumps down to sit in between the two.

Listening to the radio on the way home, (Y/n) listens closely to the news:

"Legendary weapons developer Howard Stark, as well as his wife, was found dead a few days ago. The death of his parents seemingly haunted Tony Stark after the disappearance and presumed death of his daughter and girlfriend about ten years ago when he was around the age of nineteen."

Poor guy, (Y/n) thinks. Imagine loosing the love of your life, your daughter, and your parents. I guess I kind of know what that's like, though I wasn't old enough to comprehend it at the time.

Hermione glances over at her sister who was staring off into the distance.

As if sensing Hermione's gaze on her, (Y/n) looks back over at her with a warm smile.

Hermione shoots (Y/n) a quizzical look but (Y/n) shakes her head.

Marvel tilts her head and pads forward, thrusting her head under (Y/n)'s chin. (Y/n) smiles and scratches behind the kitten's ears.

(Y/n) strokes the kitten's black-and-white fur, remaining silent as the car ride goes on.

Once the four - plus Marvel - arrive back home, (Y/n) helps Mr. Granger unload the trunks from the back of the car, but not before slinging her guitar over her back.

Word Count: 2194 words

Love,           Kaitlynn ❤😘

#hermione granger x sistare reader

[titularkilljoy]

nameless, faceless.

Summary: These days, he starts to think he might not be Tobias, but he’s not much of a Spencer either. Gen-fic following a newly exonerated Spencer Reid. 

Content Warnings: Drug use, angst, slight references to gun violence and physical abuse.

Thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins who listened to me rant about this messy fic for weeks on end, and for being the first to read it. 

Spencer Reid is an excellent shot. A perfect shot. He can take apart and put together his service weapon with his eyes closed. He’s tried, and succeeded. Thrice, because once might be a fluke, twice might be a freak coincidence, but the third success counts as scientific proof.

Years ago, Aaron Hotchner tried, unsuccessfully, to help him pass his firearms qualification. Adrenaline was his friend that day. He could have succumbed to the agony of the cobweb-covered boxes in his head creaking open, bit by bit, every time Hotch’s foot knocked the air out of his lungs; or, he could have used his brain and his training and finally done something that would prove people wrong about him. He chose the latter.

One shot, right through Philip Dowd’s skull. In the solemn aftermath of his first kill, Hotch was proud of him. He was proud of himself. That night he went home and allowed the pain in his ribs take control. It felt good. It felt like a victory.

Of course, he knew he didn’t really deserve to wield the weapon. Once was a fluke. Which is why he kept going back to the shooting range every chance he got, until he finally felt a little less like a child, however prodigious, playing dress-up in an FBI vest.

Hotch would be proud of him if he saw the perfect score. But he hasn’t spoken to Hotch in years. The number in his phone has long since gone inactive, and no matter how bad he is at reading social cues, he can hear Hotch’s unspoken request for a clean break loud and clear. He deletes the number.

~

JJ is careful around him, these days. She’s always been protective of him, but these days she knows he can take care of himself. It’s more like she’s circling him slowly, trying to put her finger on what exactly has made him so different, so maybe she can zoom in on that and fix it and then everything will be back to normal again. He’ll be her nerdy best friend Spencer who once had a desperate crush on her and is still half in love with her but never a real prospect. Spencer. Predictable, quirky Spencer.

He doesn’t quite know how to tell her she’s not going to get her wish, though, so he just ignores her heavy stares pricking his neck when he isn’t looking her way. He ignores the urge to tell her to stop looking so tormented when he’s the one who’s been to hell and back. He knows it isn’t fair, and no matter how off-kilter he feels, he knows he doesn’t want to hurt her.

At the moment he is ignoring her hushed conversation with Will in the kitchen while he sits cross-legged on the floor and helps Henry with his science project. It’s very clear she’s talking about him because he can hear her whisper his name every now and then, and her husband seems to be trying to comfort her. Will has been pleasant to be around since he got out; he will usually just engage him in mundane conversation that surprises him with how calming it is. At the very most, he will offer him a word of support that never feels condescending, and he’s immensely grateful in a way he suspects will always remain unspoken between them.

“Uncle Spencer, look!”

The little primitive robot is moving around successfully, and Henry looks jubilant. He also looks at Spencer with unbridled adoration, and absolutely no one but his godson has ever looked at him like that. It makes something swell inside him and he has to clear his throat.

“Whoa! You did it, Henry. You’re a genius!” he praises with a grin that stretches from ear to ear, picking him and resting him on his shoulders. JJ and Will are watching fondly, and as he meets their eyes, he is relieved that JJ, for once, doesn’t seem to be worried. Why would she be? Right now, he doesn’t feel broken. He just feels happy and loved, and he wishes he can make this moment last forever.

~

He’s in a cement box and the walls are slate grey and his mind is trapped. There is silence all around him and he feels like he can choke on it.  He’s on his back and trying to sleep but his eyes won’t close. His hairs stand permanently on end and there’s a rapid thumping that he decides must be his racing heart. The thumping grows louder and louder; there’s a clang and suddenly he isn’t alone in the grey box anymore. Suddenly there is a flash of too-bright light and several nondescript faces in there with him and the only thing he knows for sure is that they want to hurt him.

There are hands around his chest and hands around his legs and hands twisting his arms behind him and they’re all tightening like a vice and the air is running out but then his eyes adjust to the light and it’s Calvin Shaw in front of him and he looks powerful, and he knows he has to get away, or he’s going to die in here, he’s going to die a murderer, and he fights with all his might and his lungs are spilling out hoarse helpless screams, but then there’s cool metal in his hands and something splashes onto his face.

He cannot afford to stop for a second or he will be done for, so he keeps going, he swings wildly without knowing what he’s doing, over and over and over until the only noises in the box are his own. Shaw is on the ground and so is everyone else and he’s sweating but when he wipes it away and licks it lips it tastes like copper. He jolts, there’s another clang, and he looks down to see a bloody knife has seemingly fallen from his hand. No, no, no, he thinks, he was only fighting to be able to breathe, he didn’t mean to-

But you did, the walls seem to chant and then the walls aren’t walls at all, they’re glimpses of Emily’s deep brown eyes and JJ’s sunshine smile and Rossi’s paternal gaze and Morgan’s brotherly smack on his back, except now they’re all betrayed and afraid and their guns are trained on him, on him, on Spencer, and he keeps telling them he didn’t do it, he swears he didn’t but Nadie Ramos is on the ground and she’s so dead and cold and bloody and the guns are taking aim and-

And then he’s sitting ramrod straight in his bed, sweating profusely, panting and throwing the blankets to the floor. The clock on his nightstand innocuously tells him it is two forty-three a.m. He’s in his apartment. The walls are moss green, there are books everywhere; he tries to calm the pounding in his chest.

He waits for the relief to fill him and lull him back to a restless sleep. It never comes. Instead, all that fills him is shame.

Shame makes him feel small—young, younger than he is, and strips him of the precious shreds of confidence he’s managed to drape over a scared little boy tied to a flag post. There’s bile crawling up his throat and he needs to escape.

What happens next is an out-of-body experience. One moment, he’s sitting on the bed and feeling fourteen. The next, he’s watching himself walk over to the nightstand with purpose and open the locked drawer. Then, there’s a needle sticking out of his arm and he’s on the floor and there’s sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

The reality of what he’s just done hits him all at once. The shame follows immediately after. Then comes the one he can never quite seem to shake.

Self-loathing has been his dogged pursuer all these years, always carefully kept at the peripheries by Gideon’s watchful eye or Hotch’s uncharacteristic words of affection or Morgan’s warm arm slung over his shoulders; this time, he’s all alone. And right now, it is consuming him.

~

Garcia is more astute than people give her credit for. This much, he’s always known. But he isn’t particularly fond of having her turn that perceptive gaze onto him with laser focus.

Emily and Rossi have decided to give him space, and his further retreat into himself after the night where he slipped doesn’t seem to clue them in to anything he’d rather they never knew. Matt, as a rule, doesn’t pry and doesn’t meddle, and if Spencer is being honest, he really wishes the rest of his team would follow his example. Tara is quiet and observant and besides all that, she has seen him drug-addled and half-confessing to murder before—she might sense that he’s hiding something but he doubts she will go as far as confronting him, since they don’t really talk about things. Luke, on the other hand, is definitely the type to meddle, but he also seems to look up to Spencer a bit, seeming impressed not just with his intellect but also with his track record at the FBI; it’s a nice change.

What he doesn’t expect is for Garcia to keep her keen eye trained on him behind all the emotional speeches and hugs. He definitely doesn’t expect her to show up at his door the day after they’ve returned from a case in Colorado, looking like she means business. He can feel a headache coming on just at the sight of the defiant tilt of her chin.

“Garcia, what are you doing here?” He lets a bit of his annoyance seep into his tone. It’s eleven at night and they’ve been swamped with cases and he could really use this time alone. There’s a small voice in his head taunting for what, but he ruthlessly squashes it down.

“Oh, don’t start that with me, boy wonder,” she warns, ignoring his protests as she pushes past him into the apartment. Sighing internally, he shuts the door and rests his forehead against it for a second. Please let this be over quickly.

Garcia whirls on her heel to face him again, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You have been hiding something, mister,” she begins dramatically, and his heart stops.

“You’re not sleeping, Reid! And you’ve avoided coming out with us every single time we’ve asked. You know how many times we’ve asked since you’ve been back, Reid? Twenty-three!”

She’s pacing now, seeming troubled, and yet he’s the one who feels like a cornered animal.

“You won’t talk to JJ, you won’t talk to Emily, and you won’t talk to me!” Now her eyes are wide and pleading and he startles himself with how little he cares about what she’s feeling right now. He just wants her to leave so he can be alone again.

“You’re not even seeing your therapist!”

“I saw my therapist and I got cleared for duty,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, duh. I know that. I meant the therapist JJ suggested for you after that? The one outside the bureau so you wouldn’t get all concerned about the FBI stealing your emotional secrets?” Her accompanying eyeroll says aren’t you supposed to be a genius? His hackles raise.

“How do you know I’m not seeing that therapist?” His tone is clipped, and of course he knows how she knows. He just wants to see if she’ll admit it.

She falters, but only for a second. “How do I know everything? Do you want me to explain the internet to you?”

“I’m asking why you know.”

“Because we’re all worried about you!”

“So you decided to pry into my personal life?”

“Well what else are we supposed to do if you won’t tell us anything?!”

He wants to lash out at her. He wants to yell about boundaries and that this is his business, not hers or JJ’s or Emily’s, and they should just mind their own. He wants to demand to know why he has to constantly keep proving himself, after all these years. But he sees how that will play out.

Garcia will try to protest for a while, but as his words pierce through her defences, her eyes will shine with hurt and betrayal, and he’ll be too proud to try to fix it. He won’t hear from her for a few days, and then he will hear from them all at once. They’ll confront him and they’ll be so painfully earnest about it, and Emily will likely “suggest” that he take some time off, and he’ll be forced to remember that she’s not just his friend, but also his boss, and her hands will be tied. He foresees spinning off the rails in the absence of something to occupy him. He imagines falling even further from grace; from the FBI’s golden boy to a barely exonerated murder accused, to an unreliable drug addict who’s more of a liability than an asset.

So he tames the impulse and forces himself to look contrite. His head is throbbing now, and he needs to get her out of here as soon as possible.

“You’re right. I’m just going through a lot. I’m not used to feeling so…adrift,” he whispers, running a hand through his hair and gazing at the floor to the left of where Garcia’s bright green shoes are planted. It works; he can feel her resolve crumble. The tension between them eases, and she approaches him like he’s a wounded animal.

“Oh, honey,” she whispers, pulling him into a tight hug, “we’re all here for you. We know how hard you must be struggling, and we want to help you, but you have to let us, okay?” She pulls back, looking him straight in the eyes. “No more trying to handle all of this crap on your own, mister.”

He nods like he knows he’s supposed to.

“Oh, and, and! You have to go to the therapist. No arguments,” she tells him, “You know I’ll know if you don’t end up going.”

He does know. Garcia stays a little while longer, fussing over the mess that is his apartment and his nearly empty refrigerator. She makes him promise to replenish his supplies, before finally leaving with one last hug.

He shuts the door behind her and leans against it. He supposes he should feel bad about so coldly manipulating one of his closest friends, but these days he’s so full of shame anyway that he thinks he’s maxed himself out. Fulfilled his self-hatred quota for a lifetime. Or maybe he just can’t really tell what it is he feels bad for anymore.

He used to wonder if he wasn’t really himself anymore. If Tobias had killed him and brought him back except now there was more Tobias in him than there was Spencer. Then the marks on his arms weren’t visible and he could walk without much of a limp again and the white-hot brand in his mind screaming ‘sinner’ dulled to an orange glow, and he realised he couldn’t possibly be Tobias. Tobias only cared about dilaudid and a twisted sense of morality and judgement and avenging. Spencer wasn’t like that.

These days, though, he starts to think maybe that’s changed. Sure, maybe he isn’t Tobias. But he doubts he’s much of a Spencer either.

~

He thinks he’s doing pretty well. Handling the drug addiction, he means. He isn’t just getting high every chance he can get and walking into work with telltale sunglasses and trembling hands. He plans it out. He rations out his supply. He also fully intends for it to be a temporary thing.

In retrospect, that was remarkably stupid of him.

It all comes to a head during a case in Denver. It involves, as it usually does, dead women, a frustratingly broad profile, and largely unhelpful local law enforcement.

Spencer is standing in front of a corkboard, peering at a map of the town and meticulously tying a strand of red yarn between the crime scenes and the locations frequented by each of the victims, indicated by slightly rusty dull-green thumbtacks. JJ and Rossi are off in one of the interrogation rooms, speaking to the latest victim’s boyfriend. Luke and Tara are in the field, interviewing a bereaved mother. Across the table, Emily is on the phone with Garcia, poring over a case file.

The door slams open and an officer walks in, carrying two Starbucks cups and wearing a wide, hopeful grin. Emily smiles kindly at him even though there’s a furrow between her eyebrows; this man hardly deserves to have their irritation directed at him.

He quickly realises Officer Cole is either flirting with Emily or flirting with the BAU, and Emily is patiently indulging him. Spencer ignores him for the most part, his mind drawn to a solitary green pin on the periphery that remains hitherto untethered to any other. He glares at it balefully, willing it to fit perfectly into the intricate pattern he’s identified. He pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally scanning the details of the crime scenes and case files. Still staring directly at the pin, he reaches blindly towards the table to grab the red yarn, and then promptly yelps in shock. His eyes jerk over to his dripping left forearm and then up at Officer Cole’s mouth hanging open in horror, trying to stutter out an apology but nothing comes out; he looks like he’s about to cry.

Spencer mumbles something along the lines of “it’s alright” while inspecting his arm. He unbuttons the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt, and after a cursory inspection, concludes that it’s nothing a little running water won’t fix. He gingerly pries the fabric away from his skin, confirming his theory that the skin is unblemished, if a little pink, and makes his way to the restroom. He’s distracted with reassuring Cole to think anything of the way Emily takes one look at his arm and then inspects his face with a strange intensity.

It isn’t until he’s in the room again, ten minutes later, with both his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, that it hits him. The air is distinctly chillier now, or maybe it’s Emily’s stare that sends a shiver down his spine. She looks disappointed and furious all at once, and this time he doesn’t have to fake the urge to avoid her eyes. Of course she’d be the one to find out, he thinks. But he supposes, if he’s sloppy enough to slip up so badly, he deserves whatever is coming.

When she makes him book the first flight home and decides he needs to take another two weeks off, he scarcely puts up a fight. When she tells him about her conditions, he nods in resignation. If she listens to what she has to say, she will see how pathetic he really is, and maybe that will be worse. As of now, she only knows the bare bones of what happened to him over a decade ago: she knows of a kidnapping and a resurrection and PTSD, but she doesn’t know of the vials and the meetings and Gideon’s guilt; hopefully, she never will. As he walks out of her makeshift office, he feels the rift between them grow impossibly wider.

~

The woman smiling cheerfully up at him and offering her assistance from behind the reception desk is unfamiliar. He’s been called a robot so many times he’s stopped counting, but right now he feels exactly like a machine that has come screeching to a halt when confronted with data beyond its knowledge. He stares at her, unable to move, as his mind torments him with all the things that could possibly have gone wrong. He’s faced one too many formidable adversaries to be able to shut off his profiler’s eye, and he scans her head to toe, looking for the slightest hint of deception. She doesn’t seem to be hiding anything but he could be wrong, he’s been wrong, and it nearly cost him everything; what if she can’t be trusted and this time his luck has well and truly run out, what if-

“Doctor Reid?”

The greeting jolts him away from his spiralling thoughts. It still takes him a second to come back to himself, and when he does, he notices his hands are clenched into fists. He’s standing stock still in the lobby of Bennington Sanitarium. The receptionist is staring back at him with a look somewhere between fear and concern, her hand twitching towards the landline on the desk. He realises he must look somewhat threatening; he isn’t used to having that effect on people. But, he supposes, that is the least of the changes the last fifteen years have wrought on him.

“Doctor Reid, are you alright?”

He forces his body to relax, joint by joint, giving the woman as genuine of a smile as he can muster, hoping it will set her at ease. It doesn’t seem to; he can’t quite bring himself to care. The concerned voice is a familiar one, and he turns around to greet his mother’s new caretaker.

“Hi, Ruth. Sorry, I, uh—I had a rough flight,” he manages to say, running a hand through his hair, “how is she?”

Ruth always has a maternal air about her, and right now, she looks like she can see right through his flimsy excuse. She’s about to pry, he knows, and he suddenly feels claustrophobic. He needs to get away.

“Actually, I’m going to get some coffee, I’m a little tired. I’ll come back in a little while.”

Ruth frowns. “Doctor Reid, have you been sleeping?”

“Just fine, thanks. We just had a big case.” The longer this conversation stretches on, the less air there is in his lungs. His own voice sounds far away, like he’s shouting to be heard over the sounds of waves crashing against unmoving rocks.

“I see.”

“I’ll see you later,” he says, sidestepping her to get to the exit.

“Diana is having a bad day.”

The words make him stop short, if only for a moment.

“Ah.” A bad day means his mother doesn’t even know who he is. Trying to job her memory would only confuse and agitate her. He would know. He’s tried.

Ruth isn’t a woman who likes silence. “I’m sure she would still be happy to-“

He forces the muscles of his face to conjure up something resembling a smile in her direction. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just come back another time.”

With that, he pushes past her, taking long strides forward and not stopping until he’s hunched over and sucking in desperate lungsful of the warm night air. He can taste the saturation somewhere in the back of his throat and it almost feels like a home he’s long since left behind. It was stupid to have thought that seeing his mom would give him answers to questions he doesn’t even know how to voice. It’s stupid to think there’s any comfort to be had anywhere, in this new life.

Eventually, he catches his breath and straightens up, beginning to walk aimlessly. There are no stars to be seen above him, but this city could never be quite pitch dark. Vegas is all flashing lights and seductive mystery, and perhaps that’s why so many lost souls end up here. For him, it’s simply familiar; and so little of his life is recognisable these days that he clings to it like a drowning man. That’s probably why this is where he’s chosen to come the day before his mandatory leave is over.

He doesn’t put much thought into where his feet are taking him, until he hears the familiar sounds of whirring machinery and celebratory shouts and sultry jazz music being crooned into a microphone. The air reeks of artifice, but he couldn’t care less. In a few minutes he’ll be raking in victory after victory until someone grows suspicious and he ends up getting kicked out of the casino. He’ll never admit it, but even the inevitable outcome gives him a thrill. This, at least, is a sure gamble. Here, he may be nameless and faceless, but here, he’s also a winner.

~

Spencer hesitates at the door. He knows he has no choice but to enter, but the thought of being back there is overwhelming. It fills him with a shame he knows he ought not to feel. He reaches into his jacket pocket and his fingers grip the bronze token he almost never leaves at home. The cool metal grounds him somewhat.

Three times this fortnight, he has gotten as far as ten minutes into a meeting before being called away for work. Like the coward he is, he took the easy out and rushed to play Superman, when he’s really not even a half-decent Clark Kent. He is fraying at the edges. He knows himself well enough to be sure that wherever his current path is leading him, it isn’t anywhere good. So he takes a deep breath, and crosses the threshold.

As he takes a seat among the quietly welcoming group of fractured souls, he turns off his phone. Whatever horrors the world outside might need his help to rectify, he knows that leaving this safe haven for them is not an option; not when it would mean allowing the tendril of ice in his chest to spread and consume him and render him permanently useless.

A shadow falls over his hunched form, and he looks up to catch the eye of an old friend.

“John,” he remembers to say.

“Spencer,” the man greets back warmly. He takes the seat next to him. “It’s been a while.”

He hears the real questions: Why did you stop coming to meetings? What happened that led you back here now?

“I- I just figured I needed a reminder.”

The wan smile he directs at the older agent supplies the real answers: I was too proud to believe I needed to be here anymore. Now I’m here because I have no pride left.

That seems to be enough, and John offers a nod and an encouraging smile before he settles back into his seat, turning his attention to the front of the room. There’s a man talking about a messy relapse after a divorce. A woman follows with a pleased announcement that she is two years sober, to which the room responds with enthusiastic applause.  As more and more people offer up their stories, Spencer feels his nerves grow increasingly calmer, until he finally musters up the confidence to stand up and walk the short distance himself.

“Hi,” he begins with a small wave, “My name is Spencer, and I’m an addict.”

When he says the word, his entire being sighs in realisation. His mind stretches to accommodate this new piece of previously unacknowledged information, hugging the jagged edges of sharp defensiveness and tired denial that adorn it. There’s an odd sense of calm that comes along with it. He knows now, really knows, and if Spencer Reid knows something, half the battle has been won.

~

Last time, he never even really slipped. He just held on to the vials like some kind of a sick lifeline. When the nightmares became too intense, he would grip them so hard he actually feared they would break. That was back when he still had a lot of things left to live for, though; a mother, a team, a life that he loved. Now, his mother doesn’t remember him. His team is fractured and each of them is scarred in myriad ways. And his life is more a tragic comedy than the heroic sagas his mother adores. Still, he tries.  

Time passes and things are more or less normal.

Emily no longer looks at him with suspicion. He wouldn’t go as far as to say she trusts him again, but she doesn’t distrust him. That’s more than he expected to get, at least.

Garcia is still much nicer to him than he deserves; when she greets him in the morning with a batch of homemade cookies, he wonders, not for the first time, whether she truly doesn’t know what he’s been up to in his spare time. Garcia isn’t the best at keeping secrets, and he’s sure she would have let something slip by now. Rossi still invites him to extravagant dinner parties and he still goes to a few of them and the whole team is there, and it’s still fun and lighthearted and easy. It shouldn’t be this easy.  

The more he thinks about it, the more likely it seems that Emily has done him the enormous favour of keeping his secret. No one treats him differently—except JJ, the lengths of whose understanding and patience are tested a little more every time he says no to babysitting Henry; he can’t tell her he needs to be as far away from Henry as possible for the time being, so he makes up flimsy excuses that make the smile on her face look forced and painful. But otherwise, no one asks any pointed questions, and none of the higher-ups are watching him any more closely than usual.

The thought chokes him up. The worst part is that there isn’t much he can do to show his gratitude besides say the words. Which he does, in the quiet of her office after everyone has gone home for the weekend, and tentatively reaches for a hug. She lets him embrace her, and the familiar scent of her shampoo makes some chunk of a wall inside him crumble.

Apart from that, though, all he can do is just—live. There’s no way to make amends as soon as he wants to. The only way to thank Emily is to try not to be such a colossal disaster in the future. Some days, it seems like that’s a feat that is beyond him. Those days, he stays hunched over his desk in the bullpen into the wee hours of the morning, trying to hit that sweet-spot of mindless exhaustion that will have him dead asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

It’s on one such night, a little past midnight, that he’s startled by the sounds of approaching footsteps behind him. He swivels around in his chair and comes face to face with an impassive JJ. He didn’t know she was here. She’s carrying a pile of paperwork and her hair is just slightly disheveled, so he assumes she has been in the records section.

In the dim yellow light, she still looks angelic, and it feels like she holds the weight of his existence in her hands. He just stays perfectly still while she studies him. Neither of them says anything, until she finally seems to make a decision, pulling up a chair, sitting next to him, and silently getting to work.

He stares at her for a few more seconds before returning to the file, and soon the only sounds are the scratching of pens on paper. It’s peaceful, this silence, and he takes it to mean he’s been given a little more time to figure things out.

She still ends up leaving before he does. As she packs up her things, she shoots a few concerned glances his way. She spins on her heel and takes a step before pausing. Then there’s a small pressure on his shoulder as she whispers, “You’re allowed to be happy, Spencer. You know that, right?”

He keeps his eyes trained on the paperwork, but he raises his hand to squeeze hers.

“I’m getting there, I think.”

~

The cement box is closing in on him. There’s cement in his mouth and Calvin Show is smirking at him and his hand is bleeding, dripping red rivulets of blood onto Nadie’s prone body. Someone is laughing in the distance, and Shaw and his goons join in until the sounds are drowned out by a scream, a desperate, long, agonising scream.

He sits erect with the scream still in his mouth. The immediate sight of his lamplit room makes it fizzle out into shallow, shaky breaths.

Despite himself, his gaze is drawn to his nightstand. He knows he threw the vials away. He knows there’s no temporary solace to be found. But he stares at it anyway.

In a concerted effort to distract himself, he grabs his phone. There’s an overwhelming urge to talk to someone, and he tries to squash it down. The leaky faucet in his bathroom is especially loud.

Plop. Plop. The familiar tension in his temples starts building, and he releases a frustrated groan. The phone in his hand is taunting him.

Plop. Plop. Plop. He gives in and dials a number on reflex, pressing the phone up to his ear as he stands and paces wildly.

“Reid?” The voice is rough with sleep but it’s also alert and so achingly familiar that all he can give in response is a slightly incredulous laugh.

“You picked up,” he says.

“Of course I picked up.” Silence. “Are you alright?”

Another laugh, though this one borders on hysterical. “Yeah. Yeah, Morgan. I’m alright.”

He knows it won’t work, even as he’s saying the words. The man on the other end is still sharp, and still knows him too well.

“I might be wrong, kid, but I don’t call up my best friend at two a.m. when I’m alright,” Morgan tells him gently, with a teasing smile in his voice. It sets him at ease.

He chuckles. “I guess you’re right.”

The silence that follows is expectant, but patient. It makes him want to talk about everything and he knows this is why he has been avoiding Morgan so much; he knows how to get his guard down. Spencer hasn’t really talked to Morgan since he showed up at his front door his first night home after getting out of prison, with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a face that said no nonsense would be tolerated. Spencer isn’t ashamed to admit he broke down that night, but he is a bit reluctant to repeat the exercise. He knows it’s about to happen.

“I don’t think I’ve really been alright since—since prison,” he finally offers, with an audible swallow.

“That’s to be expected, Reid.”

“I know.” He picks up the three-month token from his nightstand, and squeezes as tightly as he can. “I know, but lately…lately I’ve just been letting everyone down. I’m not…useful anymore.”

“Now that’s just not true, kid,” Morgan chides, uncharacteristically serious, “Listen to me. You went to prison, kid. Let that sink in. That’s not something that just goes away. It takes time, and patience, and no one is going to fault you for that.”

“Morgan, it’s-”

“I’m not done yet, genius,” he retorts, “and you need to understand that your worth isn’t determined by how useful you are in any given situation.”

Spencer snorts. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what ‘worth’ means, Morgan.”

“No, it isn’t.” There isn’t an ounce of levity in the response, and it makes Spencer hold his breath in anticipation. “In this job, it’s easy to think that way. I get it. I’ve felt it too. More times than I can count. But you need to know and believe that you’re not just the job. You’re more than the job. You’re a person. And I think you forget that way too much, kid.”

The breath leaves him in one loud whoosh. He fumbles for words, but he doesn’t have any.

“You mean something, Reid. And a lot of people love you for more than what you have to offer in a case. Get it?”

“Okay,” he whispers, because he knows Morgan will not let him get away with a non-answer or an evasion. The words have thrown him slightly off-balance, in a good way, so he files them away in his mind to retrieve and study and turn over later. He fiddles with the token as he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry I called so late.”

“You know you can call at any time. I’ve been getting too much sleep these days now that Hank isn’t a baby anymore.” His voice is always warm when he talks about his son, and he feels a sudden pang. He misses his best friend.

“It’s hard not having you around.”

“You know you can come over any time. Hank and Savannah miss you too. And I need someone to annoy Savannah more than I do so she’ll cut me some slack.”

The banter is familiar and fond, and after so many years, he knows there’s never any malice in it. He’s always loved the straightforwardness and simplicity that Morgan wears like a badge of honour.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he replies, smiling.

“Okay, good. Now go to sleep, Einstein.”

“Alright,” he laughs. “And hey, Morgan?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

“Any time.”

The call ends with a beep, and this final silence is tranquil. Armed with the knowledge that he truly is not alone, that he might actually survive this and be okay, it’s easier to sleep now. He may never be the same again. He most probably won’t. He may be more Tobias than Spencer some days and some days he may be neither, but it’s still not the terrible fate it once seemed. Maybe, he thinks just before he loses his train of thought, maybe he doesn’t have to be the most useful person in the room. Just for a while, that should be okay.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope #angst #prison spencer #drug use #trauma #character study #gen fic #no pairing

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

blood of the covenant part 2

Part 1 here

Summery: After your explosive argument last night, it’s time to take a look at the remains of your relationship as see what’s worth saving. You don’t know if you can do it after Raph’s betrayal 

Warnings: angst, murder mention

((A/N: This is the part I haven’t really thought through but some of you wanted a part 2 to this so here you go sorry it’s kind of shit))

The sun is shining through the window, it’s a beautiful Autumn morning and you groggily open your eyes that are still bloodshot from your tears last night. Could Raph have really meant what he said? You strip off your clothes and head for the bathroom, maybe a scolding hot shower would cure some of what you’re feeling.

The water pounds down on your delicate skin, turning it a slightly more pink colour from the heat and you sigh deeply. Nothing could scrub off what happened last night. You get out of the shower and wrap a towel around yourself. You wipe the away the condensation at look in the mirror to see the huge purple and brown bruise on our chin, you consider putting makeup on to hide it but decide against that idea. Let him see what he did to me. Heading back into the bedroom you get dressed, you decide on something more casual, a white T shirt and black jeans will do. 

Going down the stairs you decide that coffee sounds good as you’re way too depressed to eat anything substantial. You pass you meeting room which has it’s door shut, pausing for a second you can hear vague noises inside and know that the boys are in there talking about the business. Sometimes you’d sit in with them, perched on Raph’s lap and kissing his neck much to Leo’s annoyance. Today wasn’t like that, today you were estranged from the man you think you still love.

Flipping the switch to the kettle it roars to life and begins to boil, you grab your coffee mug that Raph got you, rolling your eyes as you look at the cartoon tiara and the word “Princess” scrawled across it in pink, swirly writing. Some way to treat your princess you think to yourself.

__________

Inside the meeting room the boys are all sit around a large table smoking. Leo is at the head of the table and takes one more drag before continuing his sentence.

“So if Paddy’s has been compromised we need to find a new drop off point. Any suggestions?”

“The docks, no one is ever down there since those bodies washed up” Donnie suggests. Raph side eyes him but Don brushes it off. Last night was not the first time he’s made advances towards one of Raph’s girls and he doubted it would be the last, but Donnie is his brother and he loves him so certain things can slide by.

“If we’re seen down there we’ll have the cops breathing down our necks even more than they are now. No, we need somewhere more discreet. Put it on the agenda to find whoever is killing in the city though, murders on our terf is the last thing we need”

Raph simply sits and stares at his hands. Last night was tough for him and he doesn’t quite know what to do now. The safety of the meeting room was his only solace; knowing that you wouldn’t come barging in with his brothers around. 

“Raph, you there, buddy” Leo interrupts his train of thought

“Yeah, just thinking”

“Hey, I heard yelling last night. What’s up with you and y/n? Another domestic? You’ve got to keep that girl in check, y’know”

Raph clenches his fists and doesn’t look up at his brother But shoots another look at Donnie who turns his head away. Advice from a man who couldn’t keep interest in a woman for longer than a week wasn’t what he needed right now.

_____________

You pour the boiling water into your mug and stir it around so that all the coffee grounds dissolve before adding sugar. You hear a noise from down the hall and assume the meeting is over. The boys come wandering into the kitchen and sit at the table, apart from Raph who stands opposite you. He winces when he looks at your chin.

“Pretty, isn’t it” you say gesturing to your face. He doesn’t reply but the boys turn to look at you and then at Raph with anger in their eyes. It was one of their rules to never lay hands on a woman, even the ones they has killed they were pretty gentle with beforehand but to hurt a significant other was an entirely different ball park however, this wouldn’t be the first time Raphael had broken this rule.

“Raph” Leo says sternly. “We’ll be having words later” 

Raph didn’t doubt that but, for now, he needed to talk to you.

“can we have a word in the other room?” He says sheepishly.

You follow him upstairs to your bedroom and once inside he shuts the door.

“I don;t know what to say”

“Sorry would be a good start” you suggest.

“I’m sorry” he stares down at his feet.

“Tell me about her”

“What?”

“Tell me about the girl you fucked and killed. It was her dying wish? What sort of psycho wants to fuck her killer?”

“I- I wasn’t entirely honest about who it was”

This is an immediate red flag for you. He wasn’t honest. Was it someone you knew? A friend? And why would he kill them? 

“It was Jess”

Jessica Brian, a woman he had known since before Splinter died. She always had a thing for him, you could just smell it and you never liked her for that so her passing wasn’t exactly traumatic for you. But he knew her and he liked her and he fucked her. She had been there for him when Splinter died and they became good friends so why did he kill her?

Raph could see the questions building up in your head

“She got a new boyfriend, Casey Jones, that detective. He was using her for information on us and a few tings slipped through the cracks so she had to go. It’s a shame really.”

“Oh yeah it’s such a shame that you had to put your dick in a beautiful woman, I really feel for you” you raise your voice.

“Listen to me!” he begs “It meant nothing to me, but everything to her. That’s the only reason I would do it besides, Mikey was egging me on”

I’m gonna kill Mikey you thought to yourself, how typical of him to get between you and Raph. Mikey had never really liked you, he trusted you but not liked. He thought you were too volatile for Raph and maybe he was right but fuck him for doing that. For going as far as to make Raph betray you, you know deep down that really it’t not his fault, it’s Raphael’s but you’re still so full of rage that you’ll take it out on anyone at this time.

“So her dying wish is to finally have you, and you what? Just forgot about me?”

“I thought you’d never find out”

That was the kicker. You always said you’d never keep secrets from each other, even if they hurt and this one felt like a punch to the gut. You were bubbling with rage and didn’t know any way to contain it. You had only one idea and it wasn’t a good one.

“NO RAPH!” you scream at the top of your lungs. He gives you a very confused look, not sure what you’re playing at.

“PLEASE, PLEASE JUST GET AWA- NO!” you’re howling now “PLEASE DON;T I’M BEGGING YOU!” you slap yourself hard in the face and this is when Raph catches on. Knocking everything from your vanity onto the floor it makes a crashing sound and you can hear his brothers running up the stairs to your rescue. Quickly you get into the corner of the room and begin to cower as Leo, Donnie and Mikey burst through the door and restrain Raph as he’s walking towards you. Leo throws a punch and it sends him flying onto the bed where Mikey jumps on top of him and begins to pull him out of the room with the help of Leo. Donnie comes towards you slowly and places a gentle hand on your knee

“You ok?” he asks sincerely 

“I will be” you sniffle, trying to hold back a sly smile.

You wondered what they would do to him but decided you didn’t really care since even that one punch was the least he deserved.

_______________

It’s been a few hours and it’s starting to get dark outside. You’re in the living room lighting up some incense and you watch as the smoke lifts up into the air, dissipating a few feet up above the stick. The room fills with the scent of smokey rose and you lie back on the sofa. Maybe you had taken it too far earlier but, then again, he betrayed your trust completely and you needed to do something to let your anger out.

Raph and Leo enter the room, Leo eyes you suspiciously clearly still not sure as to weather he should believe the events of earlier.

“Play nice now, you two.” he says “You’ll be the death of me, I swear it” he says gesturing between you and Raph before leaving the room. You watch as he goes and notice how good his ass looks in those tailored pants he always wears. Maybe you should have gone for Leo last night instead.

“That was cute, earlier” Raph begins “Really had me in the dog house with them”

You smile coyly, it was exactly what he deserved. Now he had a matching bruise on his jaw courtesy of Leo.

Raph sits on the sofa by your feet, places a hand on your ankle and begins to rub at it with his thumb back and forth. You knew he could be gentle sometimes, it was moments like this that reminded you why you were with him. Getting past that rough tough exterior and to the heart of this man was the best thing you ever did. You get that warm and cosy feeling inside that only Raph has ever been able to bring out in you.

“Did it hurt?” you ask, pointing at his face

“I’ll live” he replies.

You know you need to talk about last night but you’re unsure as to how to bring it up. Hey Raph, wanna tell me again why you fucked Jess, destroyed my trust in you and lied about it? Seemed a tad too forward. Raph leans in and kisses you on the lips sweetly, looking into his eyes you melt a little inside. It was so difficult to stay angry at him even though he gave you every reason.

“What do we do now?” 

He frowns slightly in thought

“Well, if this were one of your soppy romance books, this would be the part where I spill my heart to you and then you forgive me” he says

“Well then, I’m all ears”

“Jess has-had” he corrected himself “Been in my life for years, she was like family and you know the old man wasn’t keen on humans. With the anniversary coming up and her betraying us and what we had to do to her....When she asked for me...How was I supposed to say no? Aside from you she was the only one there for me after dad died and I felt like I owed her something even at the cost of hurting you.She was terrified and shaking and I think she just wanted to feel safe again so I did it and I’m sorry and I know I messed up. I’d take it back if I could and I mean that”

This was Raph’s go to line- that he’d take it back but, he seemed earnest and the sad puppy look on his face cut you deep. It wasn’t like now he’d said that you were going to forgive him, it would take a lot of time to do that, but at least you could move forward together. You know that at least the next three fights you have will be about this, though. For now, however, you let him put his arm around you and you snuggle into the nook in his shoulder.

“tell me I’m yours” you murmur

“You’re mine, baby. Mine and mine alone”

You smile into him and breath in his scent deeply.

“If you ever do it again, I’ll cut you”

He laughs dryly, knowing that you mean it.  You stay like that for a while letting the room grow darker around you as you sit in silence simply holding one another. The incense burns out and the house become quiet so you decide to head back to your room to go to bed.

Under the covers you face the wall with Raph behind you, one arm wrapped around you protectively. You much preferred this to the night before, falling asleep alone and sobbing and although you’re sure there will be more nights like that in your future, for now you allow yourself to live in this moment where you are safe and loved with the man of your dreams beside you.

Fin

#mob! au #mob au #blood of the covenant

[drabbles-of-writing]

The Girl in Red

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just because Lilith lived at the Owl House now didn’t mean that she had to give up on everything.

A big one of those things was Amity Blight.

It had taken a little while to settle in, but the young witches training would not stop simply because Lilith lived elsewhere now. And barely had any magic left.

Alright, so maybe there would be a few complications.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Eda wondered, poking her head in from the kitchen as Lilith gathered as many books on magic she could find.

And though she still didn’t understand it, she had stashed a few of Luz’s spare glyphs into them as well.

“I’m to meet my p rotégé soon.” Lilith said, fumbling as a glyph fell out of one of her pockets. “I arranged to meet her in the woods for some...outdoor training.” She said, clearly unsure of her own words.

“You mean that Blight kid?” Eda raised a brow. “You still train her?”

“Blight?”

Luz suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking around like she expected to see something exciting.

“Do you mean Amity?”

“Of course I do. I still train her.” Lilith snorted.

“Oh, oh! You could train her here!” Luz suggested, looking positively delighted at the thought. “We could train together! Eda’s still teaching me about wild magic, even if she can’t use it anymore.”

“My teaching method is far different than whatever Edalyn has been showing you.” Lilith said, giving Eda a side-eye.

“Yeah, and it works!” Eda stuck out her tongue.

“We could learn from each other,” Luz said, pacing the room in that way she did when she had too much pent-up energy. “It could be a fun training session! Please, please can Amity train here?” Luz begged, facing the witch and clasping her hands together.

“I’m not so sure…” Lilith hesitated.

Luz gave her puppy-dog eyes as she begged, and Lilith had to admit, she was good at it. She couldn’t tell if it came naturally or if Eda taught her that. Probably Eda.

“...very well,” Lilith sighed, shoulders sagging.

"WOO!” Luz pumped a fist in the air. “Training with Amity! Oh, I need to grab my glyphs!” She exclaimed, racing out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Don’t break anything!” Eda warned right before a loud thump and a faint ‘I’m okay!’ could be heard.

“I’ll have to check with Amity herself,” Lilith sighed, pulling out her scroll. “Though I take it she’s been here before?”

“Oh, yeah, the kid visited twice.” Eda nodded. “Once when she erased, like, all of some kids' memories and the other time was when she busted her foot about a week ago.”

“She erased someone's memory?” Lilith gasped, almost dropping her scroll.

“Kid said it was an accident and fixed it up, no big deal.” Eda shrugged casually. “Guess there are some things your protégé doesn’t tell you, eh?”

“Don’t patronize me.” Lilith grumbled. “How she became friends with your apprentice of all people, I’ll never know.”

“Mm, I have a few guesses.” Eda said, glancing off.

Training Amity with Luz and Eda was...a challenge.

For one thing, the way Eda taught Luz was rather...barbaric. Luz didn’t seem super thrilled about it either, though she did as Eda told. Amity was very confused at their antics, and possibly a little concerned.

Luz suggested Amity try it once, and that’s when the lesson first fell apart.

Luz and Amity quickly divulged into a mock-war of the two throwing mushrooms and pine needles at each other. To Eda’s credit, she tried to gain some sense of calm.

For the first twenty seconds.

She began egging Luz on soon after, doing nothing but encouraging the two.

Lilith gave up on the lesson for the day and went inside to make some tea. Amity stuck around for a few hours after the fact, and Lilith mentally noted how red she seemed every now and again.

The next lesson was done inside the Owl House. Eda had (grudgingly) allowed Lilith to inform the girls of how to cast larger illusion spells. Of course, she didn’t know how Luz was going to accomplish it, but the human insisted on listening all the same.

Multiple times Lilith would turn around and find the girls either whispering to each other, trying to stifle giggles, or staring at whatever Hooty or King were doing. Which ranged from eating bugs off the floor to getting stuck in a cardboard box.

Lilith swore she aged at least ten years in that house.

,

“I think we should stop the double training,” Lilith mentioned to her sister one day. It was while she was on Hooty-cleaning duty. Normally she wouldn’t, but Eda had the high ground. Also known as; bringing up the curse that still haunted them both.

“What? Why?” Eda inquired, leaning in the doorway as Lilith scrubbed a mop just above one of the first-story windows.

“Amity can’t pay attention with that human around.” Lilith said, snapping angrily at Hooty as he tried to come over and ‘help out.’ “She’s done nothing but cause trouble.”

“Maybe you should change up your teaching, then.” Eda said simply. “You’re teaching Amity the regular type of magic while Luz and I are teaching each other about wild and glyph magic. Those two don’t exactly mix well.”

“Amity is in the abomination track, I am not teaching her wild magic to become a criminal like you.” Lilith growled. “I’m happy teaching her other forms of magic, but that’s just in case she--”

“What? Joins the Emperor’s Coven?” Eda cut in, crossing her arms. “Lily, do you seriously want her going to that place after all that’s happened?”

Lilith opened her mouth to argue before slowly closing it again.

“The Emperor tricked you, kidnapped me, tried to kill Luz, and is apparently trying to find a way to the human world. And you want her to join?” Eda demanded with a glare.

“...it’s what she always wanted.” Lilith said quietly, setting down the mop. “She was always so excited to be able to learn other types of magic…”

Eda relaxed with a sigh and walked over, placing a hand on her sisters shoulder and gaining her attention.

“Well, I have a feeling she isn’t so keen on it now.” Eda said simply. “She’s still friends with Luz, you know. Besides, have you asked her what she wants to do now?”

Lilith looked away, almost mad at the shame she felt.

“And anyway, I think she’s having fun.” Eda said, turning her head to look through the window of the Owl House.

Lilith looked up as well, seeing Luz and Amity messing around with King, who was still a little angry at Amity for a previous grievance involving a cupcake. Amity was smiling and laughing as Luz was tackled by King and wrestled on the floor with him.

Lilith couldn’t name any recent time she’d seen the young witch so happy. Not since the last covention.

“And having fun is the important part.” Eda said, patting Lilith on the back.

“Well, if the great and powerful Eda says so.” Lilith rolled her eyes.

“I do say so.” Eda grinned. “Now get back to work! I have a house that needs to be cleaned.”

In the second month, training came to a screeching halt.

In that time, Luz had found zero ways to make it back home, like she thought she would.

As soon as September first had rolled around, Luz had been near inconsolable. The poor girl was frantic, sporadic, sleep-deprived, and unconsciously snapping at everyone the longer the minutes ticked by.

Amity was worried sick. Almost literally.

And Lilith would admit, she was concerned for the human as well. Luz, while definitely as chaotic as Eda, was a sweet, well-meaning kid. She was happy to work with and train by Lilith, and was full of life and excitement, even after all she had done.

To see her so panicked and on the verge of tears made her heart tear.

For nearly three months there was an almost non-stop search. Lilith swore they turned the whole town upside down looking for any clues on how to make a portal to the human realm.

They couldn’t find anything.

Luz had calmed in those three months, but not for the better. She was laying about, unmotivated, and in a general slump.

Lilith remembered when she was like that. Back when she had first cursed Eda, and had to live knowing what she had done had all been for nothing.

She did her best to comfort the human, and in a few weeks, she was getting better. Amity and their other friends all helped cheer up Luz, too. And slowly, the old Luz they knew was coming back.

As did the constant redness from Amity.

Lilith had noticed Amity’s red face during the first two months of training with Luz. At first she thought it was the heat, the circumstances, or that she was just sick.

But, no. Amity was fine...presumably.

It had vanished during the close-to three months of worrying over Luz, but once she started to come back, it arose once more.

Lilith would wander into the living room while Amity was visiting and she’d find the two of them sitting on the couch, talking about unimportant things. Luz would be leaning against Amity in some fashion, or just draped across her lap a couple of times.

Each time she’d find a faint heat in Amity’s cheeks. But as soon as Amity noticed her mentor had arrived, she’d light up and grow stiff.

At first, Lilith thought it was because Amity thought she was being caught doing something wrong, like not training. So Lilith made sure to smile and nod at her p rotégé before continuing with whatever she was doing.

It didn’t help. And in some cases, it appeared to make things worse.

Lilith would also note that Amity was incredibly distracted by the human, particularly when she was focusing on magic or doing something outrageous.

Amity would stare at Luz for quite a while if gone uninterrupted. To the point where she would fumble or crash into things if she was busy doing something beforehand. Quite a few items had been broken that way, and even Eda was getting a little annoyed.

Once, on a hot day, Amity had tied up all of her hair and in turn showed off her undercut. Luz had noticed and complimented the young witch on it. Mentioning how she had wanted to get one, too.

Lilith almost thought Amity had accidentally eaten a bloodshroom by how fast the Red™ had come to her cheeks.

During one of their training sessions, Amity had been practicing her natural fire magic. She had both of her hands in front of her with a small magenta flame. Luz had been sitting on the floor and awed at the sight.

When Amity turned to face her, Luz had sat up on her knees, face illuminated by the glow, and acted like she had seen the most incredible magic in the Boiling Isles. Which was saying something, for someone who had faced Emperor Belos.

Amity’s fire had ignited into a very sudden flame, sprouting upwards and nearly nicking her in the nose, causing a mild panic among the house when she set the carpet ablaze. Which Eda later made her pay for.

Any form of physical contact seemed to bring a flush to Amity’s face. She’d avert her eyes, stutter, sweat. The works.

Usually not all at once, but it was still noticeable. Especially for such a well-coordinated person as Amity.

After weeks of silently observing, Lilith decided it could go on no longer. Amity appeared to be in distress, and Lilith was not about to leave her student high and dry when she could do something about it.

So, she came up with theories.

Her first theory was that Luz was warmer than a regular witch, and that’s why Amity looked so red. There wasn’t much information on human biology, so it’s not like it was out of the realm of possibility.

But that theory was shot down almost immediately. Lilith had been around Luz before, and she was no warmer than any other witch. Maybe Amity was extra sensitive? Allergic to humans, maybe?

Her second theory was that Amity simply didn’t know how to react to Luz. Sure, the two were friends, but Lilith had heard about Amity’s horror-story ‘friends.’ Perhaps she just didn’t know how to deal with having a real friend like Luz.

That theory was torn when she’d watched Amity’s interactions with her other two friends, Willow and Gus. She didn’t act nearly the same way with either of them as she did Luz. And while they definitely weren’t as eccentric as Luz, she figured Amity would’ve shown some similar signs.

Her third theory worried her greatly.

A curse.

Granted, not one nearly as severe as the one she’d given Eda, but a curse nonetheless. Perhaps one of her old friends had cursed her to be distracted or embarrass herself in front of Luz. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Though she felt like Amity would’ve talked to her if she was concerned about such a thing. She decided to put a pin in that idea.

Her fourth theory was one that confused her, and yet almost seemed to make sense.

Amity was angry at Luz.

The idea seemed preposterous. Amity didn’t hate Luz. She didn’t even dislike Luz. They were best friends, were they not?

Yet, all the signs pointed to the opposite. Amity was known to go as red as a tomato when angry, it made sense. Amity was always going red when Luz was around, and would look anywhere but at her when it was bad enough.

The constant watching, the aversiveness to sudden touch, the stuttering, the ranting she’d hear Amity go off on now and again, the seeming unease.

Amity was furious at Luz. Or at the very least, uncomfortable with her being around.

It made no sense and so much at the same time.

She wondered if maybe the anger was caused by a curse, but that couldn’t be it. Amity would notice then. She must not have forgiven Luz for the humiliation at the covention and the library. That had to be it.

Right?

With this theory in mind, Lilith attempted to keep Amity as far from Luz as possible. Taking her to the marketplace, training in different areas around Bonesborough, instructing Hooty to be a little more aggressive in guarding, things like that.

Amity transitioned from politely confused, to annoyed, to...well, drained.

Luz made a similar transition. She would always wonder aloud where Amity was, to asking Lilith to train back at the Owl House, to the occasional moping on the couch when Lilith left for training.

It seemed keeping them apart had only made things worse. And Lilith hated seeing either of the girls down.

She suddenly went right back to training at the Owl House again, and the cycle resumed. Maybe even stronger this time.

Lilith was confused, worried, and perhaps a little desperate. What, in the name of the Titan himself, could be the problem?

She decided she needed help, as much as she hated to admit it. And she knew just who to ask.

“Edalyn?” Lilith said, looking up the stairs to where her sister was retreating to her room for the night. “May I speak with you?”

“Uh, sure?” Eda blinked, stepping back as Lilith made her way up the steps and stood across from her in the hallway. “What is it?”

“I’m...worried,” Lilith admitted. “About Amity.”

“Is it her parents?” Eda asked quietly, face softening.

“No, no, thank goodness it’s not.” Lilith shook her head. “I meant...about her and Luz.”

Eda stared at her owlishly for a moment. Lilith had to stop herself from curling her lip at her own accidental pun.

“About time you noticed!” Eda snorted before quickly quieting herself down. She really didn’t want to wake anyone in the house.

“You knew?” Lilith gaped.

“Course I did. That kid of yours isn’t exactly subtle.” Eda chuckled. “It’s nothing to be worried about. Luz is a bit oblivious, but I’m sure she’ll catch on eventually. She’s still worried about herself.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Lilith shook her head in disbelief. “How can it be nothing to worry about? It’s interfering with Amity’s training!”

“So? I think the kids got something good going, if you ask me.” Eda shrugged. “Why are you so worked up about this?”

“Because I care about the well-being of my apprentice!” Lilith hissed quietly. “How can you let the two of them continue to be around each other when it’s so obviously causing Amity distress?”

Eda frowned and opened her mouth to retort before pausing. She appeared thoughtful before looking Lilith up and down.

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page; what do you think is going on?”

“What?” Lilith flicked her pointed ears down. “Amity is annoyed by Luz, isn’t she?” She said, tilting her head. “I mean, I didn’t think it could be true, but with all the evidence--”

Eda let out a loud, vaugly distressing, wheeze.

The Owl Lady covered her mouth with her hand and tried to smother her laughs, wheezing all the way so as to not disturb any of the other residents who were fast-asleep.

“What’s so funny?” Lilith demanded, taken aback.

“You think Amity doesn’t like Luz?” Eda whisper-laughed. “Are you dense?”

“Wha--no! I’m concerned!” Lilith snapped, remembering at the last second to keep her voice down. “What are you on about?”

“Lily, you poor, poor moron,” Eda heavily dropped a hand on her shoulder and looked up, still hunched over from her laughing fit.

“That Blight girl has a crush on Luz.”

Lilith blinked, once, twice. She stared at Eda as the gears in her head slowly began to turn and shift.

“...wait, really?”

Eda had to smother another laugh, visibly shaking with the effort.

“I’m serious!” Lilith whispered. “A crush? Is that what this is?”

“Obviously! Kids head-over-staff!” Eda stood up, leaning against the wall as she raised a hand near her chest to smother any further laughs should they come up.

“Honestly, Lily. I knew you weren’t the smartest tool in the shed, but this is ridiculous.” Eda teased. “I thought after years of watching me fall for those kids in Hexside you would’ve been able to recognize this.”

“You were different!” Lilith huffed, crossing her arms and turning her body away slightly.

“You would go out of your way to show-off. You’d do all you could to be near them while laughing at any stupid jokes they made and had the most absurd face when you’d see them across the--”

Lilith paused, thinking over what she said as the smile on Eda’s face grew.

“Wait... wait,”

Eda covered her mouth again and wheezed, turning her head away to avoid laughing harder at the shocked face Lilith was sporting right now.

"See-see my...my point?” Eda wheezed out.

“Great Titan, you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” Lilith muttered. “And I tried to get them apart.”

“Yeah, not your smartest move.” Eda giggled. “Still think it’s going to interfere?”

“Of course it is. But I’m not going to stop it.” Lilith said simply. “What do you take me for?”

“A woman who curses her own little sister while she’s asleep?”

Lilith gave Eda a deadpan stare. Eda returned it with a smug one of her own.

“Fair, but still.” Lilith relented. “I’m honestly surprised Amity could get so flustered over, no offence, a human.”

“I was surprised, too.” Eda agreed. “But, honestly? I think it works.”

“What makes you say that?” Lilith wondered.

Eda waved her hand and drew Lilith further down the hallway. She stopped outside of Luz’s room and gestured for her sister to be quiet.

Slowly, Eda cracked open the door and peered inside before stepping back to let Lilith see for herself.

Luz and Amity were leaning upright against the back wall, both of them asleep. A discarded The Good Witch Azura book laying in Amity’s lap.

Luz’s head was resting in the crook of Amity’s neck, mouth half-open.

Amity was laying her head across Luz’s, looking far more peaceful.

They each had a hand resting beside them. Amity’s fingers were brushing Luz’s, having looked like she was going to hold her hand before either chickening out or falling asleep.

“See what I mean?” Eda whispered gleefully as Lilith stepped back and quietly shut the door.

“Alright, yeah, you have a point.” Lilith admitted. “I have a lot to make up for,” She mumbled.

“Eh, you can start now.” Eda shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time you messed up.”

Lilith made sure her sister saw the irritated face she gave her.

“Now go to sleep already before we accidentally wake up Hooty. He’ll never shut up if we--”

“Did someone say Hooty?”

“There he is,”

Lilith sat on the couch in the living room, reading a book on glyph-magic. It was early morning, and the rest of the household had yet to rise after the rude awakening from Hooty last night.

Lilith knew that whenever Amity stayed overnight at the Owl House, she would either go home early or very late in the day, depending on if she had informed her parents beforehand.

This time, she had forgotten to tell them.

Lilith wasn’t surprised when she heard the soft footsteps of Amity hurriedly walking down the stairs.

Lilith lowered her book for a moment and turned towards the doorway as Amity stepped through, gazing around nervously. She froze when she saw Lilith, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“So,” Lilith stared awkwardly, sharply closing her book. “Luz, huh?”

Neither of them moved, or spoke, for a good few moments.

“Seriously?” Amity groaned, giving Lilith an exhausted stare. “I didn’t even do anything yet!”

“This happens that often?”

#the owl house #owl house #toh #drabble post #my writing #luz noceda #luz #amity blight #amity #lumity #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #eda #lilith #family bonding #fluff #humor #useless lesbian #useless bisexual #four years au

[guiltysecretpasttime]

The Airbender’s Wife

Note: A sort-of follow-up to Contentment; because this idea was sticking in my head and wouldn’t leave me alone. Again, this might have already been done before because I’m pretty sure it’s not that new but here’s my spin on it. Please let me know what you think. Let me know as well if have another idea for the title, I’m half and half about it.

===

Korra was bouncing with excitement as she leaned at the railing of the ship. Only a few hours were left until she would see the large statue of the previous Avatar, signaling the edge of Republic City.

After being holed up in the compound at the Pole for most of her life, Korra was keen to see the rest of the world. But first, Airbending training at Republic City would take precedence.

Sure, the White Lotus said they would need to protect her and to train her before bringing her out to the world. But really, what more can she learn when she was isolated from the rest of humanity?

Thank the Spirits that her Airbending master had other obligations in Republic City.

Thank the Spirits for his wife for suggesting moving the training to the city in the first place.

Patting her polar bear dog Naga who had joined her on deck, Korra realized that she knew precious little about Tenzin’s wife. And from what little she did know; the young Avatar was unsure how to feel about the woman. If anything, aside from being the instigator of the transfer of the Avatar, the facts Korra gathered about said woman did not bode well in creating the best of impressions.

--

Fact 1: She’s married to Tenzin, the last Airbender.

The first time Korra learned that Tenzin was married caught her by surprise.

From her recollection, it was around Tenzin’s third or fourth visit to the compound, back when she was completing her Waterbending training. Her parents had invited the family of Master Katara over for dinner when they learned her sons were visiting, offering to host the family for a couple of meals so that the waterbender would not needlessly worry about spending time with and entertaining her children. Never mind that these adult children just wanted to check in with how their mother was doing and would not really need any host to help them out.

Korra, her parents, Master Katara and her two oldest children were already settled in the dining area and were each clutching a bowl of soup when the airbender arrived.

“So, no wife today, Tenny?” Bumi asked, by way of greeting. The United Forces Commander proceeded to toss an empty bowl to his brother, who easily caught it midflight.

“No,” Tenzin sat down beside his sister, who pushed some noodles towards him.

Korra quickly swallowed her food and asked. “You’re married?” She had assumed he was a monk and therefore abstained from all, well, worldly things and relationships.  She said as much.

Loud guffaws erupted from the siblings of said monk, whose head turned an interesting shade of scarlet.

“What – where – how did you – why did you think -?”

This brought about more laughter which confused Korra further.

Tenzin’s sister, Kya, a talented waterbending healer in her own right, was the first one to recover. “Oh Korra, don’t let Mr. Serious fool you.” She patted her brother’s arm in emphasis.

“Yeaaah,” Bumi slurped his noodles noisily, ignoring Tenzin’s frown. “He be foolin’ around way before marriage.”

“BUMI!” Tenzin shouted, throwing a mortified glance at Korra and her parents, who were slack jawed at being caught unawares with these revelations. “They need not know that!” Water Tribe culture, after all, values privacy. Family life was deemed a private matter and some things are just taboo to discuss in public. Though, being raised in the previous Avatar’s household did not appear to hold them in the same restraint.

“Ahaaa!” Kya responded triumphantly, pointing her chopsticks at him. “So, you do admit that you were doing the deed with -!”

“Mother,” The usually unflappable airbender all but pleaded, hands shaking as though he can erase the previous minutes by airbending. “Don’t listen to them!”

Korra peered at the quiet master waterbender, who was calmly sipping her soup with a small smile on her face. “Oh, calm down, children.” Katara put down her bowl and tilted her head in apology to Tonraq and Senna. “Bumi, Kya – that’s enough. Your brother just arrived from Republic City; let him breathe. And Tenzin,” Korra noticed a twinkle in the old woman’s eyes, as through reminiscing a pleasant memory. “Don’t try pulling the wool over my eyes – I might not have your mother-in-law’s abilities, but I knew what you and Lin were up to. Those were not sparring bruises on your neck and chest that your father and I saw when we removed your robes for the airbending tattoos ceremony.”

At the time, Korra did not fully understand what was so funny about it but now she had a name for the airbender’s wife.

Fact 2: Her name is Lin.

----

Fact 3: Apparently, she bakes well.

The Water Tribe-born Avatar was practicing her bending one day when Tenzin arrived for a meeting with the White Lotus. She bowed as Master Katara signaled to take a break while her son bent down to give her a hug.

“Lin sends her love.” Tenzin murmurs to his mother. “And a ton of fruit buns.” He used airbending to lift a large canvass bag from the sky bison’s saddle, grinning as he presented the bag.

“That’s very thoughtful of her.” Korra sees a smile on the wizened woman’s face. “Has she been eating well?” Katara inquired, peering into the bag of buns.

“Oh, she tries,” Tenzin had a soft expression on his face as he responded. “I make sure to remind her when I can.”

Katara selected a bun, then noticing Korra moving at the periphery, tossed one at her. “Korra, Lin baked some fruit buns - you should try it.”

Korra nodded her thanks, never having tried fruit buns before. She bit a portion of it and chewed. The bread was fluffy and fragrant. It was pleasant, and so she took another bite. The filling burst into her mouth, sweet and flavorful. The fruit bun was good, Korra decided. She sat down at the steps of the training ring, enjoying the treat, mindful of having full view of Katara in case she decides to resume training.

“Ah there you are, welcome Master Tenzin.” One of the older White Lotus members strolled over, bowing slightly, having seen the sky bison descend a few minutes earlier.

Korra did not like this guy very much; he was always frowning as if it was such a chore to handle matters relating to the Avatar. She wondered why on earth he took on the oath of being part of the Order of the White Lotus when he found everything disagreeable. She irately took another bite of the fruit bun.

Tenzin stiffly bowed back to the man.

“Are you – alone?” Frowny asked, raising an eyebrow in obvious judgment. “I had thought Lady Lin would have joined you with regards to the Avatar’s training.”

Korra’s ears perked upon hearing about the Lady Lin.

“Lin has a full-time job back in the city,” Tenzin ground out tersely, stressing his wife’s name. “As you may know, she cannot easily leave her responsibilities behind for long periods.”

Korra stuffed the rest of the bun in her mouth; eager to listen without distractions. This was beginning to sound interesting.

“And yet you are here, Councilman.” Frowny Old Man smiled condescendingly, expression laden with insinuations. “I would have thought that training the Avatar would account as a matter of high importance.”

“With all due respect,” The airbender rebutted placidly. “I am to be the Avatar’s teacher, not Lin. I don’t see why she would need to travel to this side of the world for nothing.”

Frowny just shrugged with a smirk on his face, bowed to Katara and left the group, indicating for Tenzin to follow him for the meeting. Korra thought if airbenders were not averse to violence, Tenzin would have punched the man.

Katara placed a hand on her son’s arm, getting his attention.

“She is needed in Republic City,” Tenzin took a few deep breathes. “And this is precisely why she would rather not deal with the White Lotus.”

Tenzin followed inside soon after and Katara resumed Korra’s training.

As she went through the motions of the waterbending forms, Korra thought she might like Lady Lin (she decided to call her that in her mind) with her sweet pastries and her dislike for Frowny.

Fact 4: She has a full-time job in Republic City.

----

Fact 5: She’s an earthbender.

“Korra, can you help please?” Senna’s calm voice echoed in the empty hall where her daughter was (supposed to be) reviewing Fire Nation history. “I’m sorry to bother you but -.”

The Avatar got up immediately, interrupting her mother, tossing aside the text. “Say no more, say no more. What do you need me to do?” Korra was not one to sit still. She understood the importance of the literature, arts, culture, and history but she just found it arduous.

The relief on Senna’s face was evident. “Oh, thank you, sweetheart. You see, I need these blankets to be brought to the healing hut.” She transferred the pile of textile on her arms to her daughter’s waiting ones and indicated another set of blankets by her foot. “Master Katara wanted the healers to prepare for the coming snowstorm and I’ll need to hurry back to her and Kya at the apothecary.”

“No problem, Mom.” Korra responded, voice muffled and fully hidden by the pile of blankets.

Kicking the snow, she raised the bag of blankets by her feet to her arms. She grunted in the effort but well, don’t work hard - work smart, she always thought.

Turning to face the direction of what she thought to be the healing hut, Korra’s progress was slow with the balancing act of the towering blankets on her arms. Several people asked to help her but were responded with a strained “no, thank you, I handle it” from the teenage Avatar.

Unfortunately, a particularly slippery spot on the floor resulted in Korra toppling the blankets over and having them land on the snow into a soppy pile.

Korra groaned in frustration. No way she was going to bring this to the healers. The gossipy women always tsk’d whenever Korra would land in the hut with another scrape. She did not want to face their disapproval.

She leaned beside the hut, scrunched her face in concentration as she cleared portion of the ground and placed the bag, bending it dry. She was thankful that the blankets landed on clean snow rather than muddy sleet.

Korra crouched under the window of the hut, hoping that no healer would go out or peek to see the mess she made. She started to painstakingly pull the water out of each of the other blankets and put them on the dry bag to make sure it does not land on the snow again.

“I hear that the Avatar would be leaving the compound soon.”

“Really? I thought she would have a couple more of elements to master. Isn’t Airbending the last one?”

The Avatar in question grimaced. She knew nothing good comes out of eavesdropping, but she did not have a choice now, did she?

“Yes, but, don’t say you heard it from me,” One of the healers whispered excitedly. “But supposedly, Master Tenzin, the Airbending master,” Korra thought they said the name breathlessly and reverently. For what reason, she was not sure – I mean, everyone knew who Avatar Aang’s son was. “Was not allowed by his earthbending wife to leave the city.”

A gasp was heard. “No!”

“Yes,” The first healer continued while Korra leaned cautiously while soundlessly drying each blanket. “It’s all hush hush but the decision came from her – the Avatar will be travelling out for training. Never mind that all other masters had stayed in this compound to supervise Korra’s training. She decided that her husband is above it all,” The tone was full of disapproval. “She forced the decision – it’s not like there was another Airbending master, after all.”

Korra was dismayed; she was sure that Tenzin was unable to stay in the South Pole Compound because he had city council duties.

“How selfish!” The second healer exclaimed, no longer keeping her outrage quiet. “Well, what did we expect from her after what she did or didn’t do, for that matter.”

“What? What didn’t she do?” Korra pondered to herself as she wished silently for the two women to continue their chatter, becoming invested in the discussion now.

Thankfully, the two gossipy healers had much to say.

“True, this further cements her reputation of being a power-hungry bender who probably doesn’t care for her husband or even the future of the four nations itself. She is from a wealthy family and her lineage is well-known – what more can she ask for?”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” Korra thought as she squeezed out the water of the last two blankets. “How could the actions of one woman regarding her husband impact the future of the four nations?”

“I know right, I mean, why didn’t she consider it an honor? Can you believe she didn’t want to have kids! She must detest her husband or kids if she didn’t want them at all. If it were me,” The second healer empathically stated. “I would have no problem repopulating the entire Air Nation with him. I mean have you seen -!”

Korra burst into the healing hut dropping the blankets quickly on the nearest cot. “Hello-MomandMasterKatara-wanted-these-blankets-ready-for-the-snowstorm-thanks.” Ignoring the startled healers, she had to get out of here.

Nothing good ever came out of eavesdropping. The Avatar felt sick.

For all the limited interaction she had with Tenzin, he genuinely appeared to be in love with his wife. His wife who never came to the South Pole. His wife who did not bother to join him in his meetings with the Avatar. His wife who never visited her mother-in-law. His wife who put her career high on her priorities.

Tenzin’s faceless earthbending wife, the mysterious Lady Lin, was going down a couple of notches in Korra’s esteem.

With a slight feeling of dread – she realized she was going to live with her for an unforeseen period in the future.

Fact 6: She didn’t want children with the last airbender.

---

Korra realized she had been daydreaming as the captain of the ship announced their imminent arrival as Air Temple Island and Aang’s Memorial came into view. Her eyes squint while she tried to see the details of the temples from afar.

Air Temple Island - where the mysterious Lady Lin (as Korra had dubbed her in her mind) and the Airbending Master lived apart from the citizenry of Republic City. She stopped herself from shuddering at the thought of living with who she thought was a calculating heiress of sorts. As much as she wanted to ask about Tenzin and his wife, Korra felt intimidated by Kya and Master Katara and after all, her mother ingrained with her – family is private. All she gathered was it was true that Tenzin was childless.

“Well, I’m the Avatar,” Korra consoled herself as she grabbed her bag and tossed it on Naga. “What could go wrong?” She assured herself and her best friend, the polar bear dog, as she saw the White Lotus sentries awaiting her arrival at the docks. And, what is life without uncertainty, eh?

---

So apparently, a lot could go wrong – Avatar or not.

“Tenzin and the mysterious Lady Lin are gonna be so pissed,” Korra muttered as she bent her head on the metal table in front of her. Never in her life did she imagine that her first day in Republic City would be spent in an interrogation room.

Well, it certainly was not her fault that on their way to City Hall to meet Tenzin, Naga got sidetracked by the smell of food. Definitely not her fault that the White Lotus sentries were just walking and could not catch up with them.

Not her fault that for some reason she got involved in a clash with some triad members. As far as she knew, she was just doing the Avatar thing and helping keep peace in the neighborhood.

But apparently, it was not viewed that way by the Republic City Police Department.

The Avatar hit her forehead on the table again. “Stupid, stupid.” She sighed, wondering whether someone has called Tenzin or the mysterious Lady Lin. “So much for first impressions.” Korra obviously did not want her first encounter with the earthbending partner of Tenzin to be in a metal cube. She also did not want them to bail her out, wondering for the nth time what would the Lady Lin do if she found out she would have to spend money to get the Avatar out of jail.

One of the metal panels slid open and Korra sat up straight in attention.

An irate metalbender entered the room, holding a file and was reading off it “Let’s see – multiple counts of destruction of private and city property…”

Korra grimaced at each mention as she watched the female cop pace. She tried to defend herself.

“You should have called the police instead!” The woman slapped the clipboard on the table. “You have no business involving yourself with the triads!”

The teenager stared back at the grey-haired metalbender. “But you see – I had to do something, I’m the Avatar.” The Water Tribe girl smiled and opened her hands in innocence.

“I know who you are,” The metalbender was unimpressed. “And that doesn’t mean much around here. If anything, I should probably add something to your file,” She took the clipboard and started to write. “You also evaded your security detail, which is a breach of protocol; detoured from your journey management plan – also a breach of protocol, run about the city with your unregistered polar bear dog -.”

“Wait what?” Korra sputtered, interrupting the litany. “Unregistered – what are you – Naga is my friend.”

“And I’m a sky bison.” The stern woman deadpanned, tapping the clipboard on the table.

“I want to speak to whoever’s in-charge here.” Korra wiggled her wrists. “Please.”

Green eyes blinked at her. “You’re talking to her.” As she sat in the light, Korra noted the RCPD badge on the woman’s uniform. “I’m Chief Beifong.”

Just then a small metal panel opened and another cop spoke. “Chief, Councilman Tenzin is on his way.”

An irritated expression fell on the older woman’s face. “What time is it, Saikhan?”

“Uh – fifteen minutes past –.”

“Get in here!” Chief Beifong called authoritatively, getting up from the seat.

Deputy Chief Saikhan enters the interrogation room, awaiting orders.

“I don’t have time to babysit the Avatar,” Beifong ignored Korra’s “hey!” and just rattled off instructions. “And wait for the councilman. I have a previous appointment that I’ll need to keep. I want you, specifically you, to take care of this.” She thrust the clipboard into other metalbender’s hands. “Make sure to read each of these one by one,” She indicated each item in Korra’s file. “I don’t want the Avatar leaving headquarters with just a slap on the wrist, without a clear resolution, got it?”

“Yes, Chief.”

Without further ado, Chief Beifong exited the room with a clang of metal.

“Make sure Councilman Tenzin gets it.”

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?” Korra asked, unhelpfully from her seat.

Saikhan just shrugged, reviewing the clipboard, feeling no pity for the young woman who he had to chase across Republic City earlier.

---

Korra sat sullenly at the side table in Tenzin’s office in city hall, listlessly reading through Airbender culture literature.

After Deputy Saikhan had read the cases against Korra and after a back and forth regarding the details on covering the damages (“Yes, I will personally take it out of the Air Temple Island budget – yes Saikhan, you may get that in writing.”), Tenzin and Korra had walked silently to the Republic City Hall, Naga in tow. For some reason, Korra felt worse with the airbender’s silence than when she was at the receiving end of the chief of police’s acerbic tongue.

The walk to city hall was uneventful, save for Tenzin using airbending to keep the press waiting at city hall steps at bay. He had ushered her in the office and sent his secretary to take care of the polar bear dog in the meantime.

“Stay here.” He then left with a billow of yellow and red robes.

Tenzin was back within fifteen minutes and had, in no uncertain terms, expressed his disappointment in what had occurred upon her arrival.

Korra just bit her tongue. This day was just not going the way she wanted it to be. And she just knew it was about to get worse when she finally (finally) meets the mysterious Lady Lin.

The airbending master just shook his head at the end of his sermon, giving her a couple of Airbender literature, asking her to read up on the culture and just stay in his office while he finished work for the day.

Just as Korra was reading about the chi sensing abilities of a Guru Pathik, a two short raps on the door interrupted the monotony of the afternoon.

“Come in,” Tenzin looked up from the documents he was going over and his secretary entered.

“Councilman, Chief Beifong is here to see you.” The secretary formally announced.

Korra tensed. Not again.

Tenzin sighed, beckoning the secretary to let the Chief of Police in.

With the force of energy that seemed to always radiate around her (or at least always in the short time that Korra was exposed to the abrasive woman), Chief Beifong strode in the Air Nation Council Office. “You’re paying for this, Councilman?” She slammed a file on Tenzin’s desk. The secretary left the room quietly, closing the doors behind her. “You’re not saving me paperwork here.”

From her position, Korra recognized it as the affidavit Tenzin signed at the police headquarters earlier.

“I –.” Tenzin put up a hand to explain.

“I’ll handle it.” She waved him off. “When we had the meeting about training the Avatar,” Beifong shot a quick glance at the teenager at the side table. “The agreement was in Air Temple Island not Republic City. I thought that was clear?”

“Yes, I’m sorry but,” He floundered for words, gesturing at Korra and the room.

“Oh shoot,” Korra thought to herself. “Tenzin’s gonna land both of us in jail.”

“And another thing – a polar bear dog, Tenzin?” The Chief straightened up. “Did you know she was bringing her polar bear dog? You didn’t register that.”

The Avatar was sure that she informed her Airbending Master that she was bringing Naga but she wisely kept quiet.

At the councilman’s nod, Beifong pinched her nose bridge in exasperation. “With the exception of Lord Zuko’s dragon and the Air Nation’s sky bison, all large animals would need to be registered. We can’t have an entire menagerie loose in the city.”

“I’ll handle that, make sure it’s filed within today.” Tenzin took the form from the packet the Chief placed on the table.

“Is there anything else, I’ll need to know?” Beifong took the rest of the packet as she moved to exit the room, standing by the door now.

But before airbender could respond, the door opened and a man in Water Tribe attire burst in, Tenzin’s secretary trailed behind with annoyance. “Councilman, I’m sorry – I told Councilman Tarrlok you were in a meeting but…”

Korra thought she detected a hint of empathy in the chief’s expression as she considered the secretary.

“Councilman Tenzin,” The Water Tribe Councilman (Tarrlok, did they say?) inclined his head in greeting. “Chief Beifong.” Korra was not sure but she felt the Water Tribe man was being leery at the stern police chief, though it was probably her imagination. Nonetheless, she sought to keep still and not draw attention to herself at Tenzin’s side tables.

A glance at Tenzin showed him reddening while Beifong just continued to frown.

“This was a private meeting, Tarrlok,” Tenzin began.

“Oh, all business?” Tarrlok acted like he did not feel the tense atmosphere in the room. “Or something else altogether?” Korra did not comprehend what the other councilmember was hinting at. “You know I wouldn’t mind if -.”

Beifong cut in. “Is there anything you need, Councilman?”

The man just looked at his nails calmly. “I was just going to check in with Tenzin if he had already arranged security with our esteemed,” He let his gaze linger on the metalbender. “Chief of Police for tomorrow’s press conference.”

The chief of police in question shot a look at the other councilman, who quickly spoke up. “That was what you interrupted, I was about to discuss with her that the press conference of the Avatar was moved to tomorrow.”

Korra almost blurted out, “What press conference?” but the words caught in her throat as she saw the metalbender pin her with a look.

“Ahh, good good.” Tarrlok darted an uninterested look at Korra’s direction, probably dismissing her as one of Tenzin’s scholars. “Looking forward to attending it tomorrow then. Councilman, Chief.”

With the same bluster he had as he entered, the Northern Water Tribe Councilman exited the room, doors slamming behind him.

“Press conference?” Korra and Beifong both exclaimed when Tarrlok was out of earshot.

“I was going to tell you later,” Tenzin pointed at Korra. “And I was about to tell you.” He shot at the police chief who was glowering. “We had to move it up given that Korra here basically announced her arrival to the city earlier. The press wouldn’t stop until she releases a statement; the council thought the sooner the better.”

“Did you even prepare her? And wait a minute, you said the press conference was moved up – when was it supposed to be?” The metalbender crossed her arms. “A heads up would have been appreciated, Tenzin. Even just a heads up, Spirits know how easy you could have given me a heads up.” Chief Beifong rolled her eyes before leaving. “I’ll have to get back to headquarters; arrange for a security detail tomorrow and a perimeter check.”

Tenzin rubbed a hand over his face tiredly then gestured towards a form on his table. “Korra, can you fill up this animal registration form, please?”

---

Korra did not know what to expect of Air Temple Island.

Tenzin gave her a quick tour of the place (“That’s where the girls dormitories are, there’s the boys dormitories – you’re not allowed there by the way, the general training area, the earthbending wing is right behind that building there, the sky bison stables are behind the dormitories, the meditation areas, you’ll be staying in the main family residence with Lin and myself, we’re the only ones there, the air acolytes have their respective dormitories...”), showed her to her room, and handed her a schedule of chores and training sessions (“The air acolytes occasionally help in the main house but Lin insisted that this is still our household so we take on our usual chores as we used to in our Republic City house. I was thinking to eventually integrate you into our schedule.”).

After she had settled in her room and checked that Naga was taken care of and fed, Korra came across Tenzin who was at the living room of the house, speaking to someone on the portable radio.

“Yes dear,” He was rubbing the back of his neck as he paced. “Lin, I know – I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to help you with the paperwork. I’ll take it out of the budget of the household,” He paused to listen to the other line, wincing at what appeared to be sharp words. “No, there’s no other option right now.”

Korra felt guilty, if she had not lost control of Naga, Tenzin would not be having this conversation now with his wife, the mysterious Lady Lin.

“Mhhmm, okay. Love you too, Lin. Be safe.” Tenzin replaced the radio on its repository beside the couch when he spotted Korra, shifting apprehensively by the doorway. “Ah, Korra, just in time for dinner.” He beckoned her to follow him into the dining room.

The teenage Avatar meekly followed, the excitement of the day wearing down and embarrassment was starting to catch up.

“Hey Tenzin,” She began, unsure how to broach the subject as she sat down. Tenzin lifted his eyes from his rice bowl, waiting. “I’m sorry about how today turned out and for causing a lot of problems.” Korra fiddled with her fingers nervously. “I really didn’t mean to, you know? And I hope I didn’t cause too much, um, problem with your wife…”  She trailed off.

Tenzin’s lips twitched to a smile as he watched the young Avatar earnestly apologize. “Well, maybe you should just apologize to her yourself. But unfortunately, that wouldn’t be until tomorrow, I suppose.” At the young woman’s questioning gaze, he continued. “That was Lin earlier, she radioed that she’s caught up at work and would miss dinner today.”

Looks like I wouldn’t be meeting the mysterious Lady Lin today, Korra thought to herself as she poked the chopsticks into her rice bowl.

---

Korra twisted and turned in bed before deciding to sit up for a while, finding difficulty in sleeping.

She supposed she should be kind to herself. For the first time in forever, she was away from the South Pole, from home, from her family. She held her knees to herself as she looked out at the window, towards the lights of Republic City.

She had hoped to make a better first impression but instead was able to make an enemy out of the entire law enforcement agency by butting heads with the chief of police. She also got her airbending master into trouble with his wife. And she still has not met said mysterious wife; her first conversation would have to be an apology, which did not present well for future interactions.

Korra sighed as she thought of earlier that evening.

Tenzin was kind and paternal; asking about Korra and the Southern Water Tribe as they ate. He also asked about her parents and his mother and sister. They talked about her trip and about their schedule for the next day. He also tried to give her a crash course on press relations and public speaking.

There was something about the house though. The Avatar could not put her finger on it but there was something odd.

As she helped Tenzin clear out the table, she realized what it was. There were no photos around the house; a bit odd considering that the main residential building in Air Temple Island was like an ancestral home.

She brought the photos up with Tenzin, who was scooping some noodles into a bowl.

He had a ready explanation for it: Lin did not feel comfortable keeping up the old photos and had stashed them away.

Korra hoped her thoughts on the matter were not evident on her face. To her, it felt like the mysterious Lady Lin was tamping down the memories of the previous Avatar, of the Air Nation.

She was then surprised when Tenzin added slices of meat on the bowl he was preparing. “But you don’t eat meat.” She commented as she continued to dry the other dishes they had used that night.

“I don’t, but Lin does.” He had that odd smile on his face, the same one she used to see when they were in the South Pole and his wife is brought up.  He got a small piece of paper and wrote a note for this wife, sticking it under the bowl. He shared with Korra that with Lin’s odd hours, the least he could do was to have some semblance of a meal waiting for her at home. The Avartar idly marveled at the devotion that the airbender had for his wife.

    Lost in thought, she thought heard someone padding down the corridors. Wary but sure that no intruder could have gotten in without causing alarm from the sentries outside, she slowly opened her bedroom door to peer in the dark hallway, all she saw of the figure was a bare foot entering the master bedroom.

So the Lady Lin was home.

---

The next day utterly sucked for the Avatar-in-training.

First off, she had to wake up at ungodly hour before the sun has risen because of morning meditation. Everything continued downhill from there.

She had blearily trudged up the steps to the meditation area. At her core, she was a waterbender. I rise with moon indeed. She basically failed meditation because she could not keep still, nodding off from time to time.

Later on, she ended up bruised and battered from the airbending gates, almost destroying the relic in frustration.

Nearing the main house, Tenzin and Korra were greeted by the appetizing aroma of baked bread. A passing air acolyte cheerfully greeted them and let the master of the house know that his wife has already left for work that day.

Seeing a note beside the tray of bread from the mysterious Lady Lin (Korra felt she ought to keep calling her that in her head because Mrs Tenzin doesn’t quite cut it). She thought Tenzin would have been delighted but he just paled.

“Oh no,” Tenzin fingered the note. “Lin’s still in a bad mood.”

Plain buns; heat in the oven before eating. Will try to get home in time for dinner later. xLin

“What,” Korra was skeptical. “How can she be – didn’t she bake this for you?”

“She did – but it’s a weekday, on a day she had duty, after a long night –.” Tenzin cleared his throat. “She’s got some pent-up stress,” He pushed the tray of perfectly shaped round pieces of bread. “Probably why she thought to punch it all out in the dough this morning.”

Korra decided then that maybe she’ll not get married if it meant dealing with these kinds of situations. Too taxing. Or maybe to find a nice non-bender husband who would hopefully not want to punch things to make himself feel better. Meh. It’s probably the lack of sleep, Korra inwardly scolded her thoughts.

The press conference did not go well either. Or well, it was as well as Tenzin thought it could be. Korra doubted it though. The airbender was ever the optimist after all.

The entire time, she could feel Chief Beifong scowling from behind her and Tenzin grunting in irritation at her left.

She could tell neither were pleased with the press conference.

---

The rest of the day was spent in City Hall as Tenzin completed some work as he will be off the next day.

Korra found out it was his turn to prepare dinner but with his current preoccupation, he opted to go around Republic City to take out food. She helped select some of the dishes, Tenzin nodding in approval (“Lin would like that too. She’ll be pleased to finally have another meat-eater with us.” Korra doubted but did not voice out her opinion.).

Reaching home (the new resident thought she needed to start thinking of Air Temple Island as such to acclimatize), Korra volunteered to set up the table.

Both the Avatar and the airbender had been half-way through the meal when soft clicks of metal could be heard approaching them.

Korra was surprised to see the Chief of Republic City’s Metalbending Police enter the dining room.

She barely had time to kneel from her seat to acknowledge her. “Chief.”

Beifong looked at her, appearing to be amused. “Avatar.” She drawled before she settled herself beside Tenzin.

“Aren’t you going to remove your armor?” Tenzin dropped his chopsticks and Korra noticed the subtle movement of the airbender’s fingers at the side of the metalbender.

Chief Beifong swatted at his hands. “I’m tired and hungry, Tenzin. Can we do away with etiquette, for now, please?” She reached for a bowl of rice and topped it with some thinly sliced barbecued meat while Tenzin poured her some tea. “I’ll clean up later.”

The Avatar felt like she was in a surreal reality. An alternate universe.

What was going on, she paused mid-bite as the two middle-aged benders just continued to eat.

“Did you even eat lunch today?” Tenzin was eying the woman beside him, who had not paused in alternately getting food to her bowl, plate and mouth.

“Eh, no – had to prepare my men for the press conference,” Beifong rolled her eyes. “Whose fault was that?” She wiped her lips.

“Before you even point fingers at me,” Tenzin pinched open a pau, letting the steam out. “That was Tarrlok, he wanted the conference to happen at that time.”

“Couldn’t you have influenced the other members to push back? We weren’t prepared – you weren’t prepared,” She turned her thumb in Korra’s direction. “She wasn’t prepared.”

This brought Korra back to her wits and continued to eat. She looked at their plates. If they did not slow down soon, there would not be any food left for the mysterious Lady Lin. She frowned as she faced her dinner mates who carried on with work discussions. She pushed herself to be more attentive – both to the door and to the conversation around her.

“By the way, I have the files ready for council approval regarding the budget.” The discussion turned to the damages that Korra inflicted downtown; she flinched but neither adult paid her mind.

“No need, Tenzin – I’ve talked to Suyin.”

“What does your sister have to do with this?”

“We’ll supply the raw materials and Su will reallocate some of her workforce from Zaofu to finish the renovation quickly.”

Tenzin’s eyebrows raised at this. “Why? There’s no need for that. Republic City can manage.”

“No, we don’t.” Beifong was calmly responding in between bites. “Think about it. If you go to the council asking for the publicly funded Air Temple cultural restoration budget to be reallocated to construction,” She waved a chopstick in to stress her points. “Specifically to the Earthen Fire Refinery for raw materials,” She saw the comprehension dawn on the airbender’s face. “Whether or not it was well-intended, that request will not look good to the council.”

“You’re right,” Tenzin exhaled deeply.

Korra slowed down to chew her food, wondering why it would not look good. Is it because they were friends? Their parents were friends?

“Korra,” The airbender called her attention. “You’re a bit subdued tonight. Is everything okay?”

The two adults before her looked at her in mild concern. She swallowed and just gestured to the food.

“Go ahead,” The metalbender handed her a plate of steamed pau. “Eat some more. It’s been a long day and you’ll need your strength.” The sharp eyes of the police chief caught her wince as she extended her arm to get the plate. “Tenzin,” She poked at the Avatar’s side none too gently, the soreness making her grimace. Beifong swiftly faced the airbending teacher. “Did you bring her to the airbending gates on day one?”

“Yes…” Tenzin ran a hand on his head slowly.

“Did you check on her after?” At Tenzin’s confirmation of not doing so, the gray-haired woman now turned her attention to the perplexed Avatar. “How many times did he make you go through the gates? Were you – tossed outside of the gates?” At the girl’s awkward shrug and affirmative response, she motioned her hand to the direction of the hallway. “Tenzin, get the salve from my dresser – you know that one, I’m sure.”

Korra blinked. The Chief of Police lived at Air Temple Island? Where? How come Tenzin never mentioned it?

Her quarters must not have been far as Tenzin was back in the dining room in no time at all. “But that’s how my father trained me…”

The Avatar’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What’s up with these two – what about Lin?

“Your mother was there during your training and she was also there when my mother trained your father for earthbending.” Beifong accepted the pot of salve that Tenzin handed her. “Point being – there was always a healer at hand so training could proceed quicker without a lot of recovery time needed.” She offered the salve to the Avatar, instructing her on how to use it later that night. “Barring that, in the academy we used this balm that your mother created.”

“I’m sorry, Avatar.” Tenzin settled himself back beside Beifong, his contrite face visible. “I suppose I never considered that aspect.”

The Chief of Police’s words had an unusually protective tone. “Chin up, Airhead, it’s your first time to teach airbending and you couldn’t have known – you were obviously a natural at the skill.” She bumped his shoulder gently.

“It’s okay, Master Tenzin.” The Avatar gingerly opened the pot, sniffing the salve which had a comforting scent of eucalyptus and mint.

“What would I do without you, dear.” To Korra’s surprise, Tenzin kissed the metalbender’s cheek as she leaned on him. “And just call me Tenzin.” He directed the last part to the Water Tribe teen, who was hiding her dismay at the perceived disloyalty happening in front of her.

Beifong just patted his cheek then tugged his beard. “We all know where you’d be without me now – all of Air Nation would probably be bowing down to you as their patriarch.” She laughed at his horrified face. “What? Don’t tell me that wasn’t what you envisioned.”

“Of course not!” The man just scoffed. “You make the Air Nation sound like an underground cult…”

“Isn’t it just?” Good mood revived by food, Beifong used her bending to summon the metal tray containing the rest of the bread from earlier that morning. “Avatar, Mother mentioned in one of her letters that you enjoyed the fruit buns I sent last time. I tried something new this morning – just incorporated some of the island’s melons into the dough. Not sure if it turned out well.” She broke a piece off and placed it on the young girl’s saucer.

Fruit buns, fruit buns… Korra had a vague recollection about it, but what? “Just call me Korra, I’m just in training after all.” Was what she responded with though.

At Tenzin’s pointed stare, Chief Beifong raised an eyebrow. “What? I rather like it that she calls me Chief.” She gave a bark of a laugh at his frown. “Fine, fine, I was just kidding. Just call me Lin when we’re not in a professional set-up. We can’t have the rest of the public think I’m being undermined.”

Lin.

Hold up. Korra froze.

Beifong. Toph Beifong.

Korra wanted to slap herself, recalling the biographical pamphlets that one of the White Lotus members insisted she study back in the day.

Toph Beifong of the Gaoling Beifong family. The inventor of Metalbending had two daughters – one was the matriarch of the metal clan in Zaofu, Suyin Beifong and the other one was… Lin Beifong, current Chief of Police of the Republic City Police Department, head of the Metalbending Police, one of the partners of Earthen Fire refinery.

Lin Beifong who was currently tearing pieces of melon bread for her husband, the last Airbender, who was chatting casually about the types of food that the air acolytes purchased that morning for Korra’s polar bear dog.

Korra just blinked her blue eyes. So this was the mysterious Lady Lin, the last Airbender’s wife.

Lin Beifong, who despite being in her Metalbending police uniform, seemed to be quite comfortable at being a wife at home during dinner time, attentively listening with her husband about day-to-day household concerns.

Lin Beifong who offered to make Korra medicinal muscle-relaxing tea before bed to help her sleep.

It was a close call of looking almost like an idiot, Korra supposed, as she would have almost accused her airbending master of infidelity. This was why, the young Avatar figured as she took in the tea-drinking couple at the other side of the table, she needed to pay better attention to her history text.

----

Note: Sooo the plot ran away from me. So I’ll probably chop this into two posts; cutting it here for now. I hope this turned out okay; let me know if this is any good.

===

My related posts:

Prologue (Contentment) 

The Airbender’s Wife  2

#linzin #lin beifong #linzin fanfic #tenzin #legend of korra #lok #korra #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip #toccatina airbender

[jettingtothemoon]

Rescue You; chapter 2

 ➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader  ➳ genre: fantasy, angst  ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3.  ➳ word count: 2366  ➳ rating: 18+  ➳ summary: In which y/n, a witch from Dracula’s court, tries to save the forgemaster from his fate.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

Lack Of Trust

"I'll leave the two of you to catch up but keep it short, we don't want to distract our dear old Hector from his work now, do we?" Just like that, Lenore was leaving the two of you alone.

You didn't miss the look she shot Hector as she closed the door, nor did you miss the way his body tensed again only to relax ever so slightly as soon as she was gone.

It was quiet, the air in the room feeling almost too awkward. Then, he spoke.

"Why are you here?" His voice was coarse, his brows furrowing slightly.

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn't quite find the words and closed it again. He glanced at you briefly, waiting for an answer before turning his attention back to Cezar. You watched as his fingers gently stroked the pug's fur, not failing to notice the ring sitting on his finger.

"That ring..." Your voice was unsure, knowing that he would not want to talk about it.

You knew your suspicions were correct when he stopped petting the dog and hid his hand from your view. When you took a step forward, he took a step back. With a sigh, you approached again, relieved that this time he did not try to move away.

His gaze remained low but he continued to watch your every move. It was as if he thought you would pounce at any moment. He didn't trust you and that realisation alone hurt you. 

Cautiously, you reached out for his hand. Of course, he pulled away but when you looked at him with softened eyes, he let you gently clasp your hand around his wrist to pull it into view. Though, you weren't sure if he allowed it because he wanted to or because he was afraid of what would happen had he not allowed you to. You were working for them, after all, which made you something more than him in their eyes, maybe in his too.

"Hector, this... this is a slave ring,” you stated and he pulled his hand away once again.

Just seeing it made your heart sink. He doesn't want to help them but he has no choice. He must feel like he's been trapped into a corner. So alone, so helpless.

"I... I know." His voice was shaky as he placed Cezar down before turning his back to you and picking up his hammer again.

You thought that would be it, that he would go back to his work and the conversation would end there. But something had him speaking again. Maybe it was because he had seen a familiar face, a friendly face, that he hadn't seen in so long.

"You never answered my question, why are you here?" You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Something had happened to him here, something that devoured his ability to trust people. Even those he once considered friends.

"I came for you. I... I saw you in the mirror. You were in a cell, you were thinner than you are now. I suppose they're feeding you properly now at least," you explained, hoping that he would believe you, but you knew better than that.

The man before you wasn't the same one you knew all those months ago. Not quite. The man before you was broken, likely tricked into obedience and, from his demeanour, probably still abused in some way or another by the vampires that had enslaved him.

He stopped hammering for a moment, a split second in which he was debating whether your words were truthful, but then resumed his work. That was when you knew the conversation was indeed over. He had listened and you could only hope that one day he would believe you. The fact that you were here on the premise that you were going to aid Carmilla in her war effort would only make that harder to do. She wanted an empire and, for that, she needed soldiers. Soldiers that Hector would, unfortunately, provide whether he wanted to or not. He was a slave, their slave and now, in some way, you supposed he was your slave too. The thought alone sent a tremor up your spine.

You could feel the magic in his ring, you could sense it and you knew that somehow he had been manipulated into giving away his loyalty, his freedom, to the vampires. You just didn't know how they had managed it.

Quietly, so not to disturb him further, you left only to find Lenore waiting for you outside.

"All caught up?" She smiled as if the two of you were old friends and, without quite letting your guard down, you found yourself relaxing slightly in her presence.

Slowly, you nodded and tried to push the anger you were feeling down. "Yeah, he seems happy to have Cezar back."

She smiled again and began to lead you through the castle once again, this time taking no detours. She had taken you to a room, one that was neither small nor large in nature. It was just a room. The furniture was nice and the bed was more than big enough. Once she bid her goodbyes and informed you that it would be best not to wander around the castle without consulting Carmilla first, you found yourself collapsing amongst the soft sheets of the bed.

You lied there for a while just looking up at the ceiling in thought. You missed the company of Cezar by your side, you missed the way he would nuzzle up to you and softly lick your hand. You were alone now and had more work to do than you thought. Initially, you only needed to get the vampires to trust you but now it seemed as though you would have a great deal of trouble getting Hector to trust you again too.

By the time night fell, you were being summoned. You were sleepy, still not fully adjusted to the nocturnal lifestyle you would need to grow accustomed to in order to work with vampires.

What you wanted to know was why they had a need for you when they clearly had a vampire magician of their own, that much you had gathered from the ring on Hector's finger.

"Don't get me wrong, y/n, the only reason you are here is because Striga thinks your human magic will be of use to us. I also know your capabilities and I will say I have been impressed with what you can do. I can see why Dracula valued you so much." Carmilla was, as usual, swirling a glass of blood around in her hand and leaving the war planning to Striga.

You glanced over to the largest of the four vampires as she spoke up to tell you what she needed of you, "In two weeks time you will go with our mercenaries. Your job is to protect them while they take down our enemies near the border. Once they have taken the town over you will send up a signal fire to tell our men that it is safe for them to occupy the town."

"Why do you need mercenaries? Why not just send your men? Surely they would be able to take over the town much quicker than a group of mercenaries," you stated, wondering why she had chosen such a plan.

Striga sighed and finished the glass in her hand, "After Braila our numbers are short, we can't afford to spare any men on this."

"And once you are finished, you are to bring the bodies back here to be forged into night creatures," Morana concluded, her tone not sounding demanding but firm in nature.

You were not so keen on helping them take down an entire town by the border but there were still a couple of weeks until then. Whether in those two weeks you could figure out a way to free Hector or not, was another matter but nonetheless you agreed to their plan.

As soon as they dismissed you, you decided to go and pay Hector a visit. During your little summoning, they laid down some ground rules and told you where you can and cannot go. Hector's forge was one of the places allowed given that you didn't distract him from his work. Of course, everyone was against Hector having a visitor but Lenore suggested that it would be nice if he had a friend. She seemed to care for him, in some strange way.

What you had gathered from the way Hector was treated was that Carmilla, Morana and Striga saw him as nothing but a slave. Lenore, however, seemed to think of him as a pet, a little puppy that she needed to train. Her relationship with him was an unusual one but what you had gathered since you came here was that there was more to it. Hector very clearly hated her but there was still more to it than that, almost as though he was scared of her. You wanted to know what had happened between them since he arrived here. You had also figured that it was Lenore who had done the manipulating and was most likely the one responsible for the ring binding him to them.

You knocked on the door but, as expected, there was no response. Despite this, you headed inside. He glanced over briefly but his eyes still didn't meet yours. Cezar ran over to you excitedly as Hector continued his work.

"Hey, little guy. I missed you too." You grinned at the little dog before turning your attention back to Hector and finding your smile falling.

He was like this before. Always focusing on his work, always busy. You didn't get a great many chances to talk then. This was something a bit more different though. It wasn't that he was too busy, it was that he didn't want to talk to you. He didn't want to let someone in because they could break him again. He wasn't ready to trust someone, not even you and that was okay. You have time and will wait as long as he needs.

You could have started a conversation but you figured he wouldn't really want to talk with you. He still doubted you and your reason for coming here. He couldn't trust you yet. He needed to be sure that you weren't trying to manipulate and lie to him like everyone else. So, you just went over to the other side of the room and sat down in the moonlight that shone in through the window.

As if sensing you sitting down, he glanced over again to find you getting comfortable on the floor. He looked as though he was going to ask why you opted for the floor and not a chair but he just shook it aside and continued his work.

You sat there, watching him as he worked. You watched as he raised his hammer only to smash it back down seconds later. Drops of sweat emerged around his neck and you could see the way his muscles flexed through his somewhat thin shirt.

He must get cold at night if they don't give him anything thicker to wear. You thought to yourself as you sat there watching him. He lived in an old outhouse on the castle grounds, it was no doubt Lenore who arranged it but although it was a step up from a cell it must still be drafty and cold during the night.

The more you watched him the more you noticed it, how they were working him too hard. He was exhausted and you could tell he had probably been at this all day and most of the night.

You cleared your throat but he didn't react, "Have you even slept in the last twenty-four hours?"

He was quiet and it seemed as though he was ignoring you until he finally stopped for a moment and sighed though that was his only response. Still, you were glad that he at least acknowledged what you had said.

You stayed for a while longer, watching him almost silently for a good couple of hours before you went back to your room. He didn't even glance your way as you left.

The next day, he was again working away but he seemed better rested than the night before. You couldn't stay for too long as Carmilla had asked you, well, told you to keep an eye on the mercenaries while she and the rest of the vampires slept. By the time the sun was beginning to set, you went to see him again. He was quiet and paid you no attention when you walked into the room.  Cezar was curled up into a little ball napping on the rug, his snores the only noise in the room beside from the bang of the hammer.

You could already feel the cold seeping in through the cracks in the wall and focused your attention on the unlit fireplace. With a flick of your fingers, a magical fire danced around your fingertips. The warmth licked at your skin before you threw it into the fireplace, setting it alight. That was the only time he glanced your way. He even flinched slightly when the flames landed, catching the sight out of the corner of his eye.

You looked at him and released a shallow breath, the breeze of the exhale brushing past your lips. If only he knew how you felt, then maybe he would trust you, understand you.

You sat down on the floor once again and leaned your head back against the wall, stretching your arms out as you yawned. You saw him peek over but before you could say anything his eyes had already turned away from you.

When it was finally time to go, with a sad smile, you got up again. You were hesitant to leave, lingering in front of the door for just a little too long before finally heading out.

You wandered around the castle for a little while more and by daybreak, you were heading to bed. You were starting to slip into that nocturnal lifestyle already and despite the beauty of the moonlight, you were beginning to miss the sun.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05,  06, 07, 08, 09, 10

#netflix castlevania #Castlevania #Hector #hector x reader

[thatssirrosi]

Introductions and planning w/@InkedSoul_ & @GrowlsNHowls

Javi: <The heavy silence filled the car the closer we got to Tyson’s property. Kelly’s nervous energy was filling the car and it made me glad that I had decided to help him with the move after all. Initially he was going to drive himself but I worried for him. Even though his former boss and hunter had been taken care of, I didn’t want to leave him unprepared for anything else that might come his way. My hope was that Tyson and his wolves would be able to educate my nephew on what was in store for him so he could properly defend himself should the need arise. It also wouldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on the property with the issues they’ve been having. Tyson had agreed to the meeting and tentatively agreed to let Kelly stay, if Kelly agreed. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to live with everyone or off on his own. Damn stubborn child that he was. Glancing over, I tapped his thigh with the back of my hand> Doing okay, kid? I promise Tyson isn’t going to bite your head off.

Kelly: ::I hated this. This uncertainty. This change. I knew I couldn’t stay in my home any longer but still I hated the unknown of what was to come. Especially since none of this was my want or my fault even. I didn’t ask to be bitten, didn’t ask to have a psycho for a boss, and sure as hell didn’t know my property fell into the territory of an Alpha unwilling to share the space. Even though I was there first. Uncle Javi was certain his business associate would be able to help, but I wasn’t going to count on it. I was already untrusting before all this, now even more so. But if I could help Uncle Javi after he helped me then I would. Maybe I could live off the edge of this town we were driving through, Breno said we were close. If that was the case…it was remote, I could just exist with my dogs and not be surrounded…maybe. Still, I had agreed to the meeting. I jumped visibly when Uncle tapped my leg and flashed a small smile at him:: I’m good, just nervous. I’m not good with people. It’s why I lived where and how I did. I’ll do my best not to offend him while were there.

Javi:: <I sighed and flashed a matching smile at Kelly.>  I am not worried about you offending him, Kelly. Tyson is fair and I think it’ll be mutually beneficial to all of us to have you there. Plus your dogs will have plenty of places to run out here. 

<Henrique pulled through the large gate and drove around to the main house> Just be yourself and let the chips fall where they may. 

<The car parked and Breno and Henrique exited the car first. Tyson was expecting us and I had already come to know that he was alerted to our presence long before he actually saw us. While we were here, I was hoping to also get a plan in place for protecting his land and my business. I opened the door and stepped out, leaning back in and grinning> C’mon kid. You can ogle Breno later.

Kelly: ::My cheeks flamed red at the final sentence and I shook my head grateful for the fact I could hide most of my face behind my hair at times like this. Totally the type of first impression I wanted to make on the wolves I was about to meet. I stepped out of the car and cracked my back, my body unhappy with me for the long periods of inactivity. I mumbled under my breath that I wasn’t ogling anyone and quietly followed the three men into the house.::

Tyson: -I nodded a welcome to Javier and the man he brought with him and lead them into the dining room of my house. It was large and had a lot of seating. It’s where most of the meetings here with the other wolves happened so I figured this would be the best place to talk. The least I could do was make everyone comfortable. I walked in and pulled out the closest chair to me and sat down. I knew the man with Javier was a new wolf. I could smell it all over him- So talk to me. What do we have here? How can I help you two? -I pointed to the man with Javier- 

Javi: <One thing I appreciated about Tyson was that he didn’t mess around wasting time with niceties. It was always straight to business. I glanced over at Kelly who was ducking his head behind his hair and then spoke> Tyson, this is my nephew, Kelly. Kelly, this is Tyson. Kelly has run into a bit of trouble, not of his own violation mind you, and is in need of a fresh start and maybe a bit of…mentorship into the ways of your kind. I have taken care of nullifying the immediate threat against him but he still needs a fresh start. I believe this arrangement can be beneficial to you both. Kelly was a park ranger so experienced with threats of animals and humans, and can operate a gun for threats. He’s a keen eye for things that are out of place. He can help keep an eye on things, isn’t that right, kid?

Kelly ::I rolled my eyes slightly at the ‘kid’ comment but the rest of what Uncle Javi said was true. I did need that fresh start. Finally I lifted my gaze so I could properly see the Alpha. He was pretty much what I expected from someone Javi worked with. Tattoos covered much of his skin, dark hair, his eyes sharp and knowing, and an energy that practically vibrated off of him. I didn’t know if that was a wolf thing or just a drug dealer thing, though it was different than the energy from Uncle and his men. Tyson had a presence that commanded attention. I let out a soft puff of air and nodded:: Nice to meet you, Tyson. What Uncle Javi is trying to say is I was attacked and turned against my will or knowledge, because of that, my former boss tried to kill me since he was a hunter and I didn’t know it, and then there was an Alpha there claiming I was on her land and she wanted me gone. So now I’m here. I’m a hard worker, that much is true. I don’t know shit about wolves or rather human wolves, so I could use some help with that. I’m not great with people. I raise my dogs and lived far enough away I was usually left alone. Animals are quieter, less…everything wrong with humanity. 

Tyson: -looking Kelly over as he spoke. He was new to this life and quite different than me in the wolf sense. But, he did look like he’d fit in well with everyone and he’d have to learn how to be in a pack. I thought it over while he spoke and looked at Javier. I could see the pride for his nephew in his eyes as he watched him speak. I could see his love for him and smell it in the air so I knew this was important. All new wolves needed help and lord knows we needed help around here with all this shit going on. I looked to Kelly- I’m not a bitten wolf and most of us here weren’t bitten. We were born like this. I’m from a very long, very old line of royalty. But, I do have a small handful of wolves that were bitten and they’re much like you. If you prefer to be alone I have an empty house by the lake that you’re welcome to. There’s a lot of dogs out here that we own other than us of course. -chuckling to myself and looking to Javier- We need the eyes but are you ok with him running orders with my boys

Kelly: ::I chewed my lip and listened as Tyson spoke, something about him made me want to sit up straighter and I was guessing that was the whole Alpha thing, or maybe the born wolf thing, or royalty. Honestly I had no clue but I was going to do it regardless. I gave a slight nod before he turned the attention to my uncle:: I’d prefer to be on my own at first I think. Another reason I lived where I did was because I raise and train service dogs…which I now realize might not go over so well…..

Javi:: <I bit back a small chuckle as Kelly’s words trailed off. I hadn’t even thought about how that would look to other wolves. It had always been part of who Kelly was. Deciding to give him a bit of reprieve I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to Tyson> If you need an extra pair of hands for running, then I trust Kelly will be up to the task, but don’t think I’m putting him here to watch you, Tyson. I trust you know what you are doing and we’ve not had any issues yet. This is more about the problems we have been having from the outside. 

Tyson: -I nodded and smiled- It’ll be easier for you to bond with the others if you go on runs with them. It’ll also help with your shifting at first. It’s not the most comfortable thing and we go through the adjustments as children when it’s not so jarring. But, they’ll help get you adjusted to needing to get the run out and hunt. Training dogs? That’s your business. We all have businesses in town to cover how we have money. You might want to look into that. It’ll cover your finances fairly easily. The mayor here is one of us that runs his own pack in town so there’s not much snooping around here from cops or anything. -I jotted down directions- Your nearest neighbor is out of sight. I think it’ll work best for your solitude. The only thing you’ll see is the deer in the morning coming to feed. The man who built the house left feed in the shed. The others will be glad it’s someone else’s responsibility now. We meet every Monday night for pack business and to lay out runs and watches for the week. The only thing I ask is that you respect everyone and they’ll respect you. Also, don’t tell anyone Javier is your uncle. They don’t need to know it’ll just make them intimidated and they won’t be themselves around you. Like I said, I think you’ll fit in well. The key to your house is hanging by the back door it’s marked, you’ll know it’s yours. -grinning- I’d welcome you here normally with a bonfire and dinner with the wolves but everyone is on a detail or a run. It’ll have to wait until Monday. 

Kelly: ::I couldn’t help snorting out a laugh when Tyson said it wasn’t comfortable to shift, that was the understatement of the century. I shrugged a shoulder about the business:: It wasn’t my primary source of income but it was decent, not like I can go back to doing animal control now. I don’t mind feeding deer or anything else. 

::I laughed out loud at the mention of keeping my relationship secret:: I have never used my uncle’s name for benefit before. I only called him this time because I was out of ideas, no offense Uncle, but we both know mom hated having to call you for favors and never wanted me to lean on that either. 

::I glanced back at Tyson as I took the proffered directions:: I’d rather they not know the relationship either, they’ll either like me or hate me based on my own personality, not what they think I can do for them with my connection.

Javi:: <I rolled my eyes but still smiled soft at the mention of my late sister.> She would understand this one, Kel. She’d want me to do what I could to keep you safe. I think Tyson can better provide that here than I could. 

<My focus returned to Tyson> I appreciate your willingness in this, Tyson. I did speak with Kelly about the threats moving in and he will be keeping an eye out as well. I think we need to move soon though and catch them both off guard because I am certain they expect we are still in the dark as to who is behind the attacks. I just need to know if you want to bring the fight here or take it to them?

Tyson: -I thought long and hard about the question Javier asked me. Where did I want this to happen at? Bringing it here would be good because then it’s on our time and our property which we know. But, the humans here. We would run the risk of someone seeing that didn’t need to. Taking it to them would mean we would have to learn their property, look for wolves in the area and possibly stopping business here to do that- I’m not sure Javier. I see the good and the bad. I’m just not sure what would be best. What are your thoughts? We have the room obviously to house everyone if we brought it here. We could detail there and learn what needs to happen for that. 

Javi: <I gave a slight nod as Tyson spoke. This was the same circle that I’d found myself in. There were costs and benefits to each. Innocent people would be caught up either way though I’d prefer them to be the ones residing away from here, which was not something I prided myself on. I was only human after all and always looked out for my best interests and hoped that would trickle down among my associates. This was one of those cases. Especially with Kelly now living here. I had to think of what was best. I glanced at Breno and nodded once as he led Kelly out to find his new place. He didn’t need to be here for this. I waited until they’d gone and the focused solely on Tyson> There’s no easy answer. I already have scouts on the two cartels. I will have information within days regarding their numbers and weapon situation. I think the best bet will be to lure them here, if we get lucky they start taking each other out before we have to lift a finger. We can send the humans and those not wanting to fight to safe houses and gather everyone else here to be ready. Does that work for you?

Tyson: -slowly nodding- The humans here won’t be able to know that there’s anything going on other than the humans that know about us. We’ll have to lure them here behind the walls to be safe. Your nephew being here complicates things with danger. But, I trust that if something were to happen you would understand. I’ll do my best to keep him safe and show him the ropes around here. He’ll need to be taught how to be a wolf so that he falls in line with the others. I think he’ll make a fine wolf though. Let me know what your scouts find out and I’ll get a couple of my guys down there as well to keep an eye between them and us. Maybe a few of them will be into big game hunting and getting glimpses of the wolves will get them interested enough to make them come hunting this way. -grinning big- I have an order for guns from my contact in San Antonio coming in this weekend for the wolves. I need them to be safe here if not in wolf form and their significant others as well. I have a friend that was in the army and owns a gun range here that’s coming to show the others how to handle themselves and stay hidden… This is getting very interesting. 

#ThatSirRossi #roleplay #Growlsnhowls #TysonTales

[demonictransformation]

Hi :) I was the one who had requested an Uzui, Kyoujurou and Sanemi hcs on how would they court a shy female pillar. And it is alright! \(*´ω`*)/ Please do not fret, it's something that cannot be avoided sometimes. It tends to happen. \(〃´ ∀ `〃)/ Thank you for letting me know!

Hi hi! Lets me start by saying I’m sorry this these took so long, and they’re not exactly the best. Sanemi’s and Tengen’s were quite hard to come up with actually! And as a certified Kyojuro fucker tm, maybe I got a bit carried away with his ;-; I hope you enjoy them nonetheless! Thank you for being so patient with me and resending your request when I messed it up the first time uwu

Sanemi

It probably takes a while for Sanemi to realize he has a crush on her, let alone start courting her.

I think he’d take his time just watching her from a far before approaching her. He’s pretty rough around the edges and he’s completely aware of it, so he doesn’t wanna scare her off.

He doesn’t avoid her during the period he spends collecting information though, he’s actually quite cordial around her so everyone knows whats’s up lol

He’s big on trying to bond with her over pillar stuff. Training sessions, walking to Oyakata-sama’s estate together, chilling at the Swordsmiths’ village as their swords are being fixed, you name it.

Tries to keep his voice low and outbursts on check when she’s near, sometimes having to leave the room to cool off.

The courting begins when they are sent on missions together, its much easier for Sanemi to deal with his feelings without an audience. He’s much kinder and softer when they’re alone.

Unlike Kyojuro and Uzui, he’s not too keen on hanging out with the rest of the pillars, but he isn’t necessarily into completely quiet nights in either. A walk around the woods is much more up his alley. Since she most likely doesn’t hang around the others either, the wind hashira would try to subtly ask her to join him on his walks sometimes.

Literally has to pick his jaw up from the floor when she agrees, nodding as she looks away, cheeks bright red.

His walks are not limited to the woods though, sometimes he likes walking through the city too. He knows which houses have dogs and lowkey bases his walks on that, he took her on one of these walks once and she almost melted while seeing him interact with every dog he saw- which were a lot, by the way.

Gets super scared when he has a rage fit in front of her, fearing she’s not going to want to be around him anymore and all of his past efforts will go to waste. That’s not the case, however, since she obviously knew about Sanemi’s personality before they started hanging out. She makes an effort to assure him its alright though!

Sanemi will become so overprotective of her, specially around demons. Even though she’s a pillar herself, he’s lost far too many people in his life to have her follow the same fate. It embarrasses of course, but she’s also very grateful.

Uzui

Oh, boy. This flamboyant man may not the best for a shy person, imo.

Like he’s so extravagant and out there, its probably hard for her at first to even be in the same room with him for too long. Not because she doesn’t like him or anything, but his antics can definitely get a bit overwhelming for such a quiet and reserved person.

Having said that, opposites do attract sometimes, and a calmer person might just be what Tengen needs to balance his flamboyant personality out, and vice versa.

Probably asks Mitsuri how to approach her without giving her a heart attack or something.

Starts by trying to find things they have in common, and attempts to strike a conversation based on that. She’s initially very intimidated by his loud persona, so seeing he can actually act normally is a huge relief. At first she doesn’t talk too much, limiting herself to nodding and maybe a word of agreement or two. Uzui doesn’t mind all that much, he loves talking and is more than happy to finally be having a conversation with her

She slowly becomes more and more talkative as time goes on, and he gets just so excited.

He encourages her so much. Whether its in the middle of a battle, or when she tries to come out of her shell even just ever so slightly, Tengen is super supportive and her biggest fan much to her embarrassment.

Likes bringing her gifts that remind him of her when he goes away on missions. He honestly just loves spoiling her really, even though she’s so embarrassed by it. At first she’d refuse to accept them, but as the relationship moves forwards and she slowly warms up to him, she starts accepting them. His favorite types of presents for her are kimonos, jewelry and hair accessories, and gets happy beyond belief when he sees her wearing them.

Unlike Sanemi, Tengen tries to forget all about their pillar duties when they’re together, and focuses on the more mundane aspects of life. As much as he loves his job and his position, it often brings a heavy burden, both pysucally and mentally, and wants a relationship that will help him get his mind off all that, even just for a little.

Kyojurou

Both of them being pillars means they often spend a fair share of time together, much to Kyo’s delight.

Hes genuinely such a warm, kind person I don’t think it’d take too long for anyone to open up to him, even the shyest person on earth. Its honestly kind of hard for people to realize he has a crush on someone cause he’s just so nice to everyone.

Definitely invites her to join him for food and maybe even some rounds of sake with a couple of the pillars –most likely Mitsuri and Tengen- to try and get her out of her shell. If she’s still not ready to go out with everyone, he’ll gladly offer to stay with her for a quiet night in.

Isn’t opposed to going out for dinner just with her though! He actually enjys it very much, and loves finding new restaurants to take her after a long mission.

He’s a very touchy feely kinda guy so he really has to try his hardest to remember personal space is a thing when she’s around. He definitely doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable!

Loves bringing her flowers but she gets extremely embarrassed when she receives them, so Kyo opts to leave them on places he knows she’ll find them. It becomes a bit of a game for them after a while.

Will always call her by her first name, and will encourage her to do the same to him. He feels like crying when she finally does it!

He gives lots and lots of compliments! Maybe a bit too many? He often has to remind himself to slow down calling her cute things cause she gets just so flustered, specially if they’re said in front of other people.  

He’s like the happiest man alive when she starts slowly becoming more and more confident, though he secretly loves how she only becomes her true self when they’re both alone.

Similarly to Sanemi, he enjoys taking her on walks, specially under the stars. Its one of the only moments in which he is calm, quietly taking in everything he sees and hears. if the night’s particularly chilly, he will definitely drop his haori on her shoulders. He would love to just put his arm around her and bring her close to his body, but he knows she’d probably die of embarrassment. Looking at her with his haori is enough to put a big, goofy smile on his face though.  

Talks about her to anyone who would listen, this big dork ;;;;;

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kny imagines #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny headcanons #sanemi #rengoku #uzui

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter 10

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language

Summary: Back on set, Chris struggles to take his mind of things...

Chapter Ten

It had rained non-stop since Chris arrived back in Georgia which was rather befitting for his mood. The unexpected thunder and lightning had delayed some planned outdoor shots from that morning, with weather reports suggesting more was to come over the weekend. Chris was starting to wonder if he’d ever see Boston again.

“I could come and visit if you want? Keep you company?” Scott offered, downing the last of his glass containing whatever he managed to find in Chris’ liquor cabinet. He would have grabbed the next flight to Atlanta if Chris had asked him to. It was just the habit of him now to offer to do so wherever he was filming in the world.

“Nah, it’s OK. I told my Agent to tell them I had a family thing coming up so they know I can’t stay here for long.”

They had been on a video call for the past couple of hours, though not constantly talking. Scott had taken another call from a friend and Chris had been treated to a star-struck pizza delivery guy on his doorstop, but this was a nice comfort for them both. Chris was lounging around his cosy apartment in sweats and toyed with the idea of visiting the building’s gym to relieve come tension; tension that had built up in him since he inadvertently found himself face to face to Jenny 24 hours previous. Among the small production crowd that had gathered on location yesterday evening, they’d exchange brief pleasantries with him successfully dodging a hug she had initiated. Matt kept a keen eye on the media and thankfully nothing of note was registering online other than typical minor fan gossip but he could live with that. He resolved to keep his head down, get the shots in the can, and get out of there as fast as he could.

“Do you think we should look at getting that place booked again?” Scott asked, absent-mindedly scrolling through something on his phone.

“Huh? What place?”

“That cabin we stayed at in Vermont last year. That one looking over the lake? I literally just mentioned it to you. Have you not been listening to me? Mom wants to go again for her birthday.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something else. Yeh, sure. I think I have the email of the owner somewhere. I’ll dig it out and we can take a look. Why that place?”

“It was nice and she liked having that separate guest house for Carly and the kids. It had that huge veranda with the barbecue pit. Wasn’t that where Shan thought she saw a snake?” Scott laugh at the sudden memory that had come rushing back to his mind, and Chris nearly spat out his drink.

“Oh yeh, now I remember. She freaked and wouldn’t come outside again!” he was laughing louder now and fell back on to his couch. “Jeez. We definitely have to go back now if only for that. She’ll have it.”

“We should probably not say that to Mom, though. Maybe stick to the script on this one.” Scott laughed again. “So, you coping OK?”

Chris shrugged indifferently as if he didn’t know what Scott was hinting at. It was uncomfortably humid and he was fighting off a carb come from his pizza; he really didn’t want to to get into anything too deep at this point in the day.

“Come on, don’t give me that. You’ve been a bag of anxiety for the past few weeks. I take it she’s texting you still?”

“Not really, just the usual stuff. I can handle it.”

“Just make sure you’re careful while you’re there, alright? That divorce looks nasty and you don’t wanna get wrapped up in it any more than you already are. Don’t give her any more rope to tie you with.”

“Have you been talking to Matt about me?!” Chris asked, suddenly feeling affronted. “Cos I know what I’m doing, OK? I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Only in passing. we buy the same gym clothes. And I’m not saying you’re an idiot. You just have a habit lately of thinking with something else outside of your brain.” Scott pushed back. He was leaning into his iPad a little more as if to ensure his words were getting through to Chris, now sitting a thousand miles away. 

“Not all of my decisions are bad ones.” Chris shook his head in objection and he may well have believed it had he not also been keenly aware that, deep down, he’d been feeling like he was veering away from the straight and narrow of late and if Scott was picking up on it, then it was definitely a cause for concern. But there was a time and a place to assess his life choices and this was not it.

“You’ve been really, really distracted lately. Mom’s noticed it as well. Is it just this film or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine! I’ve got, what, four more days here and then I’m back home for the rest of the year. You can life coach me then. Honestly, I’m good. You don’t need to worry.”

Scott returned the frown and continued scrolling through his phone. Things were a bit messed up these days, Chris couldn’t exactly deny it. He didn’t know whether he was coming or going, with filming, his career, and wanting to leave LA. behind on a more permanent basis. He wasn’t getting any younger. Work aside, Jenny hadn’t particularly factored into his thoughts as much as his brother and others had assumed she had but he couldn’t very well admit to that given the alternative. In some ways, what had been happening with Sarah had very much been an indicator of what was missing from his life and what he desperately wanted to focus on. As much as they have both promised they would keep things civil and normal, there was something of a distance growing between them now, an ability to talk openly and honestly. If it hadn’t been for him lazing around their apartment the last few days before he flew out of town, he probably wouldn’t have talked to her or even seen her again. She hadn’t responded to a group WhatsApp joke he sent the other day, and she hadn’t responded again after he forwarded a cute picture of a labrador wearing medical scrubs. If there was one thing that always guaranteed you a response, it was dogs dressed as humans. He tried to put her in the back of his mind and focus on getting the film finished.

“We should put you and Sarah in a room together. Might get you both back to normal.” Scott may have intended his comment to be offhanded as he looked down at his phone again but Chris found himself keen to explore what he meant.

“What’s going on? Has she said something?”

“I was hoping you;’d know more to be honest. You practically live with them now.” Scott insinuated. “Mom says she’s been working loads and when she’s not working, she’s sleeping. That stuff with Charlotte’s really messed her up, I guess.”

He felt guilty hearing this. He hovered over her name and contemplated sending her a casual text but what could he say that didn’t sound as fraught as he was feeling? He could be funny and check Shanna hadn’t killed her. Maybe he could fake some emergency? OK, now you’re just being ridiculous, Chris thought to himself. And desperate. But sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures...

Chris 18.02pm: This feels weird

He chucked his phone to his side hoping he would stop thinking about it if he paid it no attention. He got up to get another beer from his fridge and spied the pre-made protein shakes that had been waiting for him upon his arrival. He knew he should be in the gym. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten a full pizza when he was supposed to be maintaining his training plan so he would feasibly look the same as before production wrapped the first time. As he rubbed his hand over his softer stomach he found it increasingly hard to care. He could figure that out another time.

As he stared into the abyss, he heard his phone vibrate on his couch. Against his better judgement he could feel a fluttering start in his stomach and he prayed to whomever was listening that he could just, for once, catch a fucking break.

Sarah 18.14pm: I know. I’m sorry. There’s a lot going on right now

He could picture her typing and deleting messages over and over again like she always did, chronically unsure of herself, and figured he should probably give her a break also.

Chris 18.17pm: I understand. Just miss talking to you. Scott’s not as friendly and he doesn’t laugh at my jokes

Sarah 18.18pm: :)

OK, an emoji. That’s a good start, he would take that.

Chris 18.21pm: how’s work?

Sarah 18.24pm: Busy but good. Today I removed a dice from a kids nose

Chris burst out laughing, leaning back onto his couch. They enjoyed listening to Sarah recount her days and the fairly bizarre stuff she ended up being witness to. He enjoyed himself even more watching his mother recoil in horror and fleeing the room when she was being particularly graphic.

“Woah! What is it? What’s going on?” Scott shouted through the screen, first in shock and then confusion. He’d forgotten Scott was even there. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh it’s...nothing. Shouldn’t you be heading to dinner?”

“Oh fuck, yeh. Don’t wanna give him another reason to be pissed off with me. I’ll catch you later, yeh?”

“Don’t worry about it. If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll assume you lovebirds have kissed and made up.”

Scott huffed. “Fat chance.”

A quick click and he was gone leaving Chris smiling at his phone like an idiot. He wondered if she could tell her was happy to finally hear from her, that they were joking, that a smiling emoji had been enough to lift the funk he was currently in.

Chris 18.33pm: I’m so jealous of you right now...

Sarah 18.36pm: Ha! Georgia can’t be that bad

Chris 18.37pm: I’d much rather be there

That wasn’t even half the story.

Four Days Earlier

He shouldn’t have been looking at her curled up on the couch. He shouldn’t have been focussing on the subtle way her throat moved when she swallowed a spoonful of mint choc chip from the bowl placed precariously in her lap, or the way her eyes crinkled when she chuckled at something funny in the film. Or her toes curling and then uncurling from inside her stripy red socks. What even were they watching again? Oh, The Other Guys. Shanna had chosen it and he’d been stuck ever since he’d arrived at theirs, beer in hand, hopeful for some last-minute fun before he had to return to Savannah.

Sarah leaned down the side of the couch to grab her bottle from off the floor and he blinked away as she took a long drink. He excused himself and got up from the couch. The kitchen windows were wide open and he breathed the fresh air in. This was getting ridiculous. His sister was a mere three feet away from him for fuck’s sake.

“What’s up with you?” Shan asked. She had followed him in without him realising, grabbing some more ice cream from their freezer. “If you’re bored, go out. I’m sure there’s people who’d love to entertain you for the night.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not bored. I’m just stretching my legs is all. It’s not against the law, is it?” he practically spat back at her. He regretted it when he saw her stunned expression. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but can you please sort it out before you’re back? I really don’t need Mom bothering me every hour asking me what you’re up to while you’re here. It’s getting ridiculous.” She turned and left the kitchen, the full tub in hand, unwilling to allow the mood he was clearly in to mess up her evening of doing nothing.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here tonight. Shanna was probably right. He should have tried distracting himself with something, or someone, else only now he didn’t much feel like going out. He wasn’t dressed right, his phone only had 5% battery, and he was bored of the local bars which surprised even himself.

“Are you OK?” Sarah asked quietly, unsure of whether he’d heard her at first until he looked up from where he was sat at the table. She placed her bowl on the side of the sink and he allowed himself a brief moment of respite in thinking he decided so come just so she could check up on him.

“Yeh. Sorry for disturbing your evening.” He gave her his best sheepish smile.

Sarah brushed him off, “Don’t worry about it but if you want any ice cream, you should get some fast before Shan finished it off.”

“I think she might stab me with her spoon if I tried that.” He wasn’t kidding.

“I keep forgetting to mention this to you but I still have that dress, um, if you need to give it back to Matt or someone? Shan said she was going to keep hers but I wasn’t sure what to do about it.”

She was nervously playing with her hands and for a split second, he saw her with softly curly hair and the jewellery she wore with it on the night. That night. That night that had fucked him up in more ways than one. He could pinpoint his recent mood shift back to that night at the party, dealing with his drunken friends and the photographs that kept cropping up on the internet even now, so long afterwards, with people carefully dissecting every inch of his place that was on show, trying to work out if he was with someone. It wasn’t Jenny or the thought of being back on that set that was concerning to him but rather that the only time he’d felt happy and alive in recent weeks was when he was existing in the same room as his sister’s best friend. Sarah was somewhat calming to him. She had shit to deal with and so did he but he didn’t have to hide it in the same way he did with his family. And now, as she stood in front of him in her two-sizes-too-big hoodie and sweatpants, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at her and let her hold him for a minute.

“You should keep it.” He nodded gently at her after what was undoubtedly too long a pause. “It looks good on you.”

“Oooh you should wear it on your date with Greg!” Shanna announced, making her presence known as she reached up for the chocolate sauce from the top of the fridge.

“It’s not a date!” Sarah denied as quickly as Shanna had opened her mouth. If Chris had been trying to hide the flash of unease that just moved across his face, he’d failed entirely. She turned back to the Chris. “It’s just a work thing.”

Shanna’s eyebrows looked like they were about to leave her forehead in surprise. “It is definitely a date and if you wear that dress, he’ll be all over you.”

Present day...

Shanna had a knack for creating awkward moments. If Chris had focussed hard enough, he could have grabbed the sauce bottle out of her hand and thrown it at the back of her head with unnerving accuracy. Except it wouldn’t have made him feel any better from the needling feeling he was getting in his stomach, it wouldn’t have served any purpose whatsoever. It certainly wouldn’t have stopped Sarah from practically blanking him for the rest of the evening.

He knew it wasn’t a date no matter how hard Shanna had been insinuating it was. According to Lisa, the UAPD was throwing a networking event of sorts to introduce doctors in the North East to medical Reps and unionists from across the country. The website he’d looked at made it seem akin to some kind of political rally that he used to attend alongside his Uncle, filled with men and women in smart but unremarkable suits holding clipboards and throwing their contact details around like candy. It appeared, by many accounts, to be a relatively full affair. He was surprised she had agreed to go. He’d never much figured her for a “company-man”.

Chris 19.35pm: Enjoy your night. Don’t speak to any strange men.

She was probably being bored to death by one as he spoke. He hoped she’d see his message and smile and be relieved that she had the option of someone else to entertain her during the long speeches if she had wanted but after a few hours of nothing he gave up hoping and resigned himself to a long night’s rest. This was probably for the best. He was tired and had a long day ahead of him if they had any chance of catching up on the missed scenes from today, and he’d be damned if he was staying here beyond Monday night.

He enjoyed a long, long shower and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed with his iPad to read over the new sides for tomorrow’s shoot in the park.

Sarah 11.38pm: Nope starange men. Just me lol

Chris 11.44pm: Wow....are you drunk??!!

Bless her. He could imagine her and Audrey giving up the speeches and making the most of the free bar. He’ll have to make sure to invite Audrey to his next gathering.

Sarah 11.48pm: On a school night. Sssssshhhhh

Chris 11.49pm: Shame behaviour, Ms Bernette

Sarah 11.54pm: As if your’e not doing the same

Chris 11.56pm: I’ll have you know I am tucked up in bed like a good boy

Sarah 11.58pm: Thats disappppointing Christopher

He couldn’t explain the thrill he got from her using his full name. He couldn’t recall her ever using it in the years she’s known him.

Chris 12.03am: I’ll have to make up for it when I’m home ;)

Sarah 12.08am: Can’t wait to seee that. I like drunk Christopher

Drunk Christopher was a fucking idiot, he thought, and she was one of a few people who knew that better than anyone. Drunk Christopher was someone who made risky decisions and initiated impromptu dance competitions against people who would wipe the floor with him. He was someone who pulled out his cap shield without anyone having to ask, and enjoyed drinks he could set fire to. What was his excuse for being an idiot here and now? He certainly wasn’t drunk, not even remotely so, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel slightly light-headed at the thought of Sarah wanting his attention.

Chris 12.12am: Are you wearing the dress?

Three dots quickly appeared then disappeared. A few minutes passed and he saw them again, transfixed by what might have been going through her mind, what was she wanting to say to him then thinking better of?

Sarah 12.21am: Not anymore

Fuck. He knew what he wanted to say back; he’d been at this rodeo many times before. He’d even typed out and stared at his screen before deciding against sending it. She was drunk and clearly not thinking straight, and he didn’t want her to see messages she would come to regret in the morning and push her further away from him. It wasn’t right of him to corner her, not like this. If this was something they were going to explore, they’d need to be face to face and not three sheets to the wind.

It was going to be a long week.

*

#chris evans #chris fic #evans fic #chris evans x original female character #clear the area #fan fiction #sarah bernette