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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

The One The Bard Once Loved

NEW Vibe check (appropriate song to cry to while reading)

"The bard, the sprite, the archer. The trio of young dreamers that wish to witness the blue skies past the raging winds that lock their freedom. But those are more than mere dreams, for it requires the sacrifice of those you love, to grace the courage to fight a God. And Barbatos, poor Barbatos, sacrificed more than he wanted."

Pairings -> Venti x Fem!Reader x Bard (Gale)

Word Count -> 4,337

Theme -> Angst, Backstory, Long Fic

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event)

Warnings -> Spoilers to Venti's story, character death

"Oh little sprite, from whence beyond

Does thou reminiscent of a vagabond?

Curious to which it whisks upon

Trapped now in desolate, forlorn"

Venti the wind sprite had always been curious, the single whisk of air that always goes the opposite way, hanging behind from his fellow currents to be distracted by a curious thing. So it was no surprise to anyone that he had gone lost once more in their rounds swaying but when he'd not return, long ago has his current passed the nation of Mond. Yet there was no way he can fly by his family of winds, for he finds himself trapped within the walls of a grazing storm that cages the stone walls of the city, of winds that he could not control nor agitate.

No matter how hard he tries the wind does not part, and so little Venti was stuck inside brooding skies and angry blasts. No mere sprite can go against the mighty strength of an archon.

So he resigns to his fate and wanders in this new place. Of a city wide and barren, why dare the Decarabian hide such dwelling? And even with the raging howls of the walls of wind, Venti couldn't help but wonder the silence it traps within.

A tiny ball of white in an expanse of gray. The thought scares the little sprite enough to make him scurry for the smallest bit of sound he can decipher. The loneliness creeps into his core—

And his little body bumps into that of a soft material. "Oh! Goodness, one should not run off without looking like that-" the figure turns and finds itself face to face with a floating blob, deep blue eyes wide and mouth hangs with wonder. Venti recognizes this creature in one of his endeavors as the wind, a human being, the true wanderers of Teyvat. Yet what is one doing trapped? "Such a peculiar being! What could you be?"

Yet it is not frightened by Venti's rarity, well, given he is not the most frightening wonder in this continent this was no surprise.

The sprite did not mind being found out. No, no, quite the opposite honestly, as he flies closer to the young boy and hides in his upturned hood. Nuzzling against the junction in his neck as he expresses gratitude in the company and presence of another in this desolate world.

The young boy chuckles and it reminds him of a song. "Perhaps you do not understand what I spoke?" The sprite shakes its head and the ticklish spot is tickled again. "Or do you not know how to speak?" A nod. And another giggle.

Without another word, the human slips back into the alleys of winding yet thin roads before making his way inside what looks to be a cathedral of tall composition. Glass windows of the same length tinted in kaleidoscopic patterns of color. There is a light in them you would usually bask in during the 'outside world', but in here it replicates that of an oasies in the deserts of Sumeru.

Underneath the artificial haze it beams a seeming spotlight at a figure clad in a dark ebony cloak. Venti felt the vibrations of an elated gasp as the human rushed over with a smile and frantic waving.

"My fair muse, how you've brighten my day, bestowing your presence tonight!"

The cloak tenses before immediately relaxing, the 'muse' he speaks of turns with its loose hood falling as it bundled around the shoulders, and Venti the sprite couldn't help but gasp too at the sight!

Fair is lacking, no words can describe the essence of bloom and beauty at the beholder as you stood there almost sparkling, hair catching the twinkle of light. Your plum lips caught itself smiling yet your eyes twinkled double the amusement at the sight of the human before you, "Gale." You murmured with an undertone of annoyance as you trudged over, flicking the boy's forehead so suddenly he'd voiced his hurt loudly. "Where have you been?! You've never been late to our daily rendezvous, you had me worried-!"

"Oh, such a cutie when you worry!" The young boy, Gale, cupped your cheeks in the middle of your spiel as he softly pats it with his fingers. Venti had never seen such creature change colors as fast as you, not even a chameleon, or an octopus in hiding. "I've simply found a new companion while I was out and about!"

As if a spotlight was caught unto him this time, your blown eyes wandered to the sprite floating by your company's neck. And oddly he'd found the attention appreciated.

"Who is this? An elf?"

"Venti!" There was a distant jingle of imaginary bells in his squeak of a voice.

"It/You can talk?!"

(Y/N) Lawrence.

Gale the Bard.

Venti the El- Wind Sprite.

Gale was a bard that resides in the cathedral of Mondstadt, homeless and without blood and kin, the nuns had took him in and lead their choir in turn for their hospitality.

You, on the other hand, lived with a clan of hunters that once ruled the mountains and forests. But with the emergence of the inescapable walls of wind, your family had been on the forefront of the protection of the citizens.

There were a lot of struggles in communication between you two and the lil sprite. He only knows his name and how to copy words (not so fluently) so questions had to be foregone, teaching the little one took priority. And Gale being the weaver of words took it upon himself to teach him frequently as you had your duties and family to go to.

Venti would sometimes disappear for a majority of the time and you'd figured he finally found a way to pass through the winds without shredding himself among the blades of current. And then he'd pop back in to listen to the merry tunes Gale had come up with, both of them waiting for your return.

"Ah Venti, is she not a beauty? The youngest daughter of Lawrence, as divine as that of incense. Oh tell me those dotted eyes could see it too!" The little sprite eagerly nods as he follows the bard's stride across the aisles in the holy cathedral, once again barren of other souls except for them. Whenever his human friend finds time to muse, it would be most about the maiden he fancies, the muse of most of his songs. Venti had been captured by his delicate tunes and savory lines to the point that he too had been overly enticed by your grace when your presence shines.

Your strength, your smile, your laugh, your hair. Your gait, your poise, your eyes, your glare. You had caught their stares dozens of times in silence before and it was always up to you to put them back to present time.

Venti simply basked in your warming aura and indulges himself outwardly, often you'd find him dozing off on the crown of your head. And often times you'd find a little pout on Gale at such a sight that you had no choice but to tease. In those moments, the wind sprite knew he had come out triumphant.

The cathedral doors open as quickly as they had closed, your windswept and frantic form appearing from the storm outside. The two boys in your life immediately lit up on your appearance but you'd know most of it was directed at the numerous scrolls and books you currently cradle in your shivering arms.

You offered them a grin, one of victory, and you'd all cheered at your success.

Soon, your merry trio made its way to the second floor of the cathedral in front of a faraway hallway that looks over the vast floor of the first yet still had the glow from the looming illuminated glass windows. Beholden in front of you are illustrations of a world beyond, filled with colors and shine, a world you had only imagined from stories now pictured perfectly.

Venti would hover over the illustrations at random intervals and giddily point at some of those he recognized, squeaking incoherent noises yet reflecting happiness and familiarity. While you fancied with indulging the sprite in his incomprehensible stories, Gale sat beside you with adoring yet distant eyes upon the images laid before him. Looking through them, and projecting himself in such a world. The books of the outside world you'd stolen from your clan's sacred libraries will be the start of a spark of desire to be free. And with it the start of a new era.

"The true sky, and songs that cageless soar...

Were they not wishes worth fighting for?"

Long had you gone and abandoned your stolen goods for them to admire more, at least until the day your clan finally realized the missing materials in the vast expanse of the bookshelves they own. There was more to marvel at yet you feared if you linger longer, your sister would look for you and find your little crime all too soon.

Venti quietly watches the familiar illustration of a beach littered with creatures of the sea on its glittering sand before he'd lift his tiny head up, witnessing the intense stare his bard friend had on the scroll where lies an overgrown tree and a stone structure. The sprite noted he had not seen this one.

"How marvelous it would be, to celebrate the most joyous moments under this tree," Gale mumbled in a quiet lilt of longing in his voice, "Imagine (Y/N) and I, with you by my side, as I finally pluck the courage to get down on one knee." Venti bumbled in slight jealousy, buzzing in front of the bard that could only cast a laugh. "Oh hush, dear friend, is it not appropriate to take an arrow to the knee for an archer such as she?"

Yet even with his desire to be by your side, the little sprite knew that he would be there to support his friend for the happiness you two deserved. In a land where you are free. Still, Venti hopes his cuteness would be enough to prolong you just a little bit more.

Drunk in passion and dreams, the next day the bard was scheming. And when you'd come to his cathedral of a home, he finally poured out his plans to you with a Venti quipping with cheers on the side.

The Mondstadtian had predicted your hesitance, even your disapproval on the notion, and were ready to chip in to persuade you once more— yet you gave in. Immediately. The same fire burned in your eyes at the thought of being unshackled and caged from the world begging to be explored. Your sentiments together with the bard fueled the desire between you three, and through the brainpower of a trio of young minds, you had drawn your plans.

Gale aided by Venti would try and coerce with the Ragnvindr clan's leader, and you would work on convincing your eldest sister Amos for the help needed to coerce the whole Lawrence bloodline into the battle. You knew there was an undeniable hatred within her against Decarabian and you wanted her to fuel that fire once and for all, for one great cause.

And soon enough, the strings of fate had come into play, and the one who shall record this momentous history has taken its seat by the balcony of war. Only the last piece of the puzzle is left in this grandoise play—

"Gale, Venti, are you sure this is the right direction to the hideout? We're taking a route longer than usual, surely you're not making last minute pranks..."

Your bow smacks at your back as you made your way inside the dark closet. It was two cycles before the fated ambush would come and in your nerves you had not realized how amiss things had been for the others. You were more than ready even if your fingers were to tremble everytime it holds your bow and arrow, predictions of the war that shall come floats within the expanse of your mind.

In your limited vision, your bard friend and sprite shared a look that did not pass by you. The tension had only caused you to gulp in your nervousness, were you found out? Did the participants of the revolt suddenly back down? "There has been a change of plans, but worry not for history still pans. My Muse, it is best you stay to assure you will not be caught in the storm's disarray-"

A hand flew across the bard's pristine white skin and his dark ocean hues could not help but widen. Is he... telling you to not participate in the war?! What kind of— a sob left through your gritted teeth despite your best efforts, and you're not sure who was more broken between your friends upon the sight. "How could you, even think- Gale, you carry no arms but a lyre! And Venti still has no means to go against the Archon that controls the winds! What kind of absurd idea is this?!" In the middle of your rage, your friends had already wrapped you in their sentimental hug, expressing their own misery with free-flowing tears." I'm supposed to protect you... t-the three of us were supposed to lead the path of freedom..."

"You've always protected us, (Y/N). Now would be the best time... to return the favor," and as your friend stepped back to give a parting smile, your whole world suddenly engulfed in black as the door shut with a slam and a final lock.

"Gale! Venti! No, please no! Let me out! Don't do this, PLEASE!"

"Please hear us out, our dear (Y/N)," Gale leaned his forehead against the thick door that separates you two, shedding the last bit of tears he could muster before the end of an era. The desperation in your every bang against it, breaks apart a hole in his own heart, "For your own good, and your own future."

When Gale described love to the little Venti, the latter was certain that he felt the same way for you. Yet the human ever so jokingly laughed at how he was still too young to fully understand the implications of such words. But he desired just as much to protect you, to be by your side, and to see your smile. But the human was right for he did not truly understand the reasons WHY he felt like so...

So he asked instead, dear friend Gale of Tales, why have you come to cherish this human in devotion? And quite so the other was happy to indulge!

"It starts with young Mondstadt when the walls were young and the people still knew the tales and what they sang. I was a poor little bard with a broken lyre, when living alone was nothing but dire.

Without a home, without a bed, I was ready to starve to death. But an angel clad in white suddenly lead me to bright light. My muse had brought to me a cathedral, yes the one we are in now! And since then I've lived a proper choir life, always wondering how...

just how things would be without (Y/N), my angel? Continuing to live in the dark alleys, would I have been able? Even now I have yet to repay her act of kindness. But one day, for sure... " Perhaps, this act the young boy now follows, was the payment he had been waiting for.

How long you had stayed there, you had no clue but by the sounds of war cries and clashing steel had told you enough. You'd been there for too long.

Blessed with some luck that a crowbar had found its way in this janitor closet in a cathedral no less, you had immediately set out to join the battle: beyond the holy doors flames had lit up from the torches the revolt has carried, many bodies lay by the stone grounds of the city, some moving and struggling while some... you spare them not a second thought as you rushed past the stone pillars to where the heat of the war should be. If the battle plan had gone as it should then—

A hand gripped your arm with such force it had you cry out before you even registered you were being slammed to the floor. A shadow of a knight that serves the God of Storm looms over you with a glare blazing past his helmet. "You're one of them, I recognize that face! You're not winning today-" yet another blade suddenly pierced through his chest, and your shirt had been splattered when it was pulled. The now lifeless body falls past you and another replaces him.

"Sir Ragnvindr!" The knight shared the same shock and relief you wore before it steeled, immediately pulling you up and away from the on-going exchanges of blows. "Everyone- how's the war looking?"

"Men had fallen from the green-tipped arrows, but we are making progress," the redhead gestured to the tower where the greatest enemy lies, taking note of the cracks and crumbling structure, a sign of his coming doom. A very good sign. "Amos took it upon herself to climb the tower-"

"What?! That's beyond the plan, she- she could get herself killed!" You brought your own bow from your back at the mention of your sister archer, bringing the strings back with an arrow at the ready, your intention clear. The redhead had shown a glint of worry but his gaze had been resolved once again at the hope of freedom, and he leaves you to your chase as he fends off the guards that dare go after you.

You expertly evaded blows and parried kicks with your bow and arrow, yet no sign of the heads of the resistance had caught your sight. The longer you climbed, the more you feared for the worst. By 2/3 of the tower you had scaled you managed to poke your head out to see the scale of war. Of red and orange floated below as the razor winds felt more violent than it had been ever since you had been born within its impenetrable walls, even from this distance high up you could still hear the clash, the warmongers held up in the central square where all battles now takes place.

And within that chaos you managed to single out a lump of black and a dot of floating white. Miraculously, your scream had reached their faraway ears and looked up, just in time to see your aerial shots of support.

"(Y/N)?! What is she-!" His words had been cut with an arrow wheezed past his head to bring down a foe that had sneaked behind him. Right, battle. Many of the immediate threats had been neutralized and the resistance had found the upper ground thanks to the archer's barrage. "How-how is she up there!"

Another body had fallen next to him with a cut on its back, a certain knight rushing past him to hit another. "Watch your back, bard! Now's not the time to monologue, she's going to backup Amos."

You were too far to hear the horrified gasp and the fearful expression your two faithful friends adorned. But the ground you were on began to shake, and you know you had to go on. "Venti! Gale! Focus, I'll be there with you two soon!" You screamed at the top of your lungs in hopes that it will reach them before continuing your ascent to the most treacherous area you had to be in—

You barelled towards the woman with silver hair with a pace you've never seen and a strength you'd never thought you carried, exchanging the shot you felt lodge into your left side as you sent one right through the guard's neck. You fell on your bottom and clutched the wounded area, but kept it there, if not to make sure the blood does not pour if you were to take it out.

"Sister!" The familiar voice cradled you as gently as she could with a fear-stricken face. But you assured her that it had not hit anything major, the way her worry didn't dissipate seem to hide a kind of anguish she couldn't name. "We must get you to safety, the clerics- the clerics could-"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you grunted as you pried yourself out of her grasp to prove your point, still able to keep your stance. You see Amos struggle from fatigue yet about to bite back, "We're so close, sister, any moment we linger is another body on the list of deaths." Painfully she'd bitten on her own tongue, finally relenting as you ascended the last few steps.

Normal arrows are nothing but toothpicks against the mighty God of Storms, the Anemo Archon, who easily flicked your futile attempts to graze him. And yet Decarabian was losing power just from fighting off not only your barrages but those even from below. His walls were thinning and his heart crumbles, from the thought of his once devoted followers turning back on him.

With one last strength the Lawrences gathered every piece of energy and power they could into their shot, and Decarabian looked at them with tired eyes and a raised hand. "Finally, I shall hold his gaze." The voice next to you spoke before your charged shot, swirling with beaming light flew past the sharp gale of wind and pierced through the God's core. Your ears had picked up on a violent crack before you were hit by the razor breeze upon the dying breath of the archon, sending you and Amos off the crumbling tower to free fall to your deaths.

In the edge of your peripherals the bleak gray walls of storms dissolved into rays of natural light, giving way to a hue of blue you had never seen before. As the wind wheezed past your ears, you smiled at the face of death—

When a jingle of little bells suddenly slowed your descension, and you were softly met with the hard floor on your back. With tired eyes you'd found yourself next to the pioneers of freedom, conscious and unconscious. You had felt Venti nudge your hand to those of another's limp ones, soft palms yet calloused fingers, you intertwined your hands with that of the bard's.

"We did it, we finally... did it..." A pulling force drains the consciousness from your mind and body in laboured breaths, and despite your protests to keep staring at the beautiful sight of the true sky, your eyelids were pulled shut by an unknown exhaustion.

Past their closed state, a flash of light was the last thing you had thought. Bruised and beaten, your warm hand did not register how the ones you clung to... did not squeeze back.

...

The next time (e/c) orbs flew open their eyes the world felt that of a lucid dream, with silk of the cleanest white donned their body, and the softest breeze of a sweet flower you had not smelt passes by you. Teal orbs looked down at you with a gentleness you've felt from the artificial light from the cathedral. Speaking of- your eyes unfocused shifted its gaze to the light blue skies.

"You're... awake." Your bard friend breathed out in disbelief and another emotion your brain can't quite place. The cotton of clouds float above in painted beauty, and you had pried your sight away from it almost painfully just to spare your companion a look.

"It's..." your throat grated and ached at the attempt, coming out so weak and breathless, "It's very beautiful... out here, free... Have- have you gone to explore?" Your face twisted in numbing pain from talking, and the bard started to quiver yet stood strong with a smile.

"I had, it's - it's just like how we imagined, even better than we've taken for granted," wet spots adorned your cheeks in short successions, you couldn't help but smile. "I only wish you were there to see it first hand, the flowers, the sunsets, the land-"

"Yet I fell asleep," you laughed in mirth yet there was no sound that escaped. The grip around you tightens as you loll your head to the side; there lays a new city kissed by the huge orb of light in the blue veil of a sky, lush green grass of health you've never seen before shone with a moistness on it, and around its glory lays a beauty of a moat that mirrors the one above. Beautiful, you whispered under your long-awaited breathe.

"The people of Mond had done their best to rebuild, for the promise of freedom they had not wilt," a hand on your cheek, flawless, urged your gaze once more to lay upon the bard. "We've devised a festival to celebrate named Ludi Harpastum. Tell me... my muse, will you accompany me in this new custom?"

A new breeze had lulled you in your ears once again to sleep, and a flash of fear had passed over your companion's features before it dissipated when you opened your eyes once more. A festival, you haven't heard that in years, "I would love to. But maybe... tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow."

"Mhm, I feel tired... the sun invites me to sleep, will you wait for me tomorrow?"

"T-Tomorrow."

"Good." Your eyes were covered by darkness again as you felt a pressure against your forehead. "It's... a date..." And your tired heart finally found peace, after battling for 15 days restlessly, desperately.

Venti picked you up from where you laid on his lap, setting you down on the grass bed besides the giant roots of the Windrise tree. Nearest your left, a stone plate carved with words you never dare see lies next to you. And for the first time in fifteen days, a God cries again.

¹The green-tipped arrows were coated with poison.

²Reader's bow is designed after the Raven's Bow.

³Gale is not the bard's official name but was used to avoid too many confusion.

⁴This had a different, more painful and hatred alternate ending where you hated Venti for taking Gale's form, but I changed it so I could rest my own heart.

*in honor of your contribution to Mondstadt's freedom, the maiden who throws the Harpastum is made for your grace.

@boxofteenageideas @creation-magician @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #genshin impact Venti #venti #venti x reader #Bonafide specials #publish at midnight #genshin impact x reader #angst #female reader

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keouil · 3 years

Text

how you forget to be human

“so is she like,” scott hesitates. “cap’s first lady or something?” rated t. 2k+. steve/nat. also on ao3 / twitter / cc

Scott hasn’t been with the team for a long time, but he thinks he at least has enough working knowledge of how everyone operates.

The Winter Soldier—Bucky to Steve, James to anyone who dared—quite frankly still scares the living shit out of him, and that’s Magneto on a good day. It didn’t take much to deduce he seemed wholly uncomfortable in his own skin, his jaw coiled perpetually tight and the rigid set of his shoulders always in alert. It was uneasy just being around him, his discomfort bleeding over others and charging the air around his space with its own brand of disquieting; but always, without fail, Steve cushioned whatever apprehension anyone aimed toward his bestfriend.

Most of it came from Sam, and almost always in good nature as if to ease the brainwashed supersoldier into some semblance of normality; and Scott would fear for Sam’s life every time he opened his mouth, were it not for the also very obvious fact the Falcon held his own and didn’t appreciate handouts and the three of them seemed to be getting along uniquely (if not a little oddly) well enough.

The witch was a small problem, however. Simply for the fact she was a witch and Scott is wary because history taught him they burned all of them down in Salem.

He sees her wiggling those voodoo fingers around sometimes, almost unconsciously, and feels the hairs on his arms rise with every flick of her wrist. The energy around her isn’t suffocating the same way Bucky’s is. It was more a subtle nervous tingling; like she herself was afraid of the gravity of her own powers she had yet to have complete reigns on. Scott is oddly humbled by the fact and even empathises with her a little.

Steve keeps an eye on her and doesn’t bother hiding it, but it’s the archer who gets past her when it really counts. Clint Barton, who, surprisingly is the one he’s on the most similar wavelength with out of all of them: family man and all.

Clint Barton whose also friends with Natasha Romanoff.

Hawkeye who has simultaneously the most complex and impossibly simple relationship with Black Widow.

“I swear to god if you ring me up next time you’re out of goddamn Fruit Loops,” Natasha warns, digging through one of the five grocery bags on the kitchen island. She fishes for a few more seconds, before popping a colourful cartoon box out from under the bag and tossing it to Barton. “I’m bringing you in for real.”

Clint scoffs, placing the carton on the top shelf. “How many times have I heard that before?”

“Apparently not enough,” Natasha glares at him from her peripheral, scooping out Nutella and a pack of store-bought pryanik to lay on the table. Russian biscuits. For Wanda. “If I’m still stopping by an abandoned boarding house in the slums of Siberia every other week. Y’all grown men can’t do grocery shopping by yourselves?”

Scott blinks from his spot by one of the stools.

Of all the things he expected to wake up to in hiding from 117 countries from possible charges of aiding and abetting a war criminal, Black Widow casually arranging and organising their weekly rationale was nowhere near the top of the list. She did this all the while supposedly fighting for the other team.

This one needs no introduction.

Scott knows who Black Widow is. Scott knows Captain America, after all.

You don’t grow up in the land of the free without knowing his legacy even in minute passing. The man has been plastered on nearly every surface of the continent since the dawn of America. Scott has seen the news footages, read the official accounts, willingly devoured every single documentary or biopic helmed in honour of their nation’s greatest hero: he knows, down to the bone, the star-spangled man with a plan.

A forgotten and revered and rebirthed war hero.

How he came to know of her, however, is an entirely different story: because come the news footages, zoom in close enough you’ll see the infamous shield covering a much smaller and daintier figure; go over the accounts with a fine-toothed comb, they speak of a levelled dynamic between a commanding officer and a shadow leader; and, lest history not forget, the documentaries: Peggy, because behind every great man is a woman, Natasha.

“Now why would we do that if we got you?” Sam. He comes up from behind the hallway to playfully grin at Natasha before enveloping her in a small hug. She returns it easily.

Scott braces himself for what’s to come, because they came in a pair, and so: “Nat,” Steven Grant Rogers, in the flesh himself, pokes his head in not a moment later with a barely indisputable frown on his face. “You came here again?”

Natasha clicks her tongue at him. “Someone had to make sure you boys were fed.”

“That’s not— We can—” Steve stutters as he strides in, and Scott has to very carefully school his features into nonchalance because Captain America does not stammer. He sighs deeply before settling next to her, nudging her with his hip. “Tony atleast know you're here?”

Natasha gives him a pointed look. “Who do you think paid for all this?”

Scott watches their silhouettes grow smaller and smaller by the distance.

Even from afar, he can make out Steve’s absolute hulk of a frame: back impossibly straight in a way that bespoke authenticity, years of rigid military training drilled into his bones; only he seemed to mellow, somehow and very slightly, the fine lines of his shoulders angled in the direction of her voice. And Natasha: brave and lithe, nearly a head shorter and so much more smaller, facing forward in full confidence and a leisurely stride in her steps.

Siberia has a biting night air that seeps deep into the bone. But it’s also comforting somehow; all of them knowing, in one way or another, what it was like to be iced out from society.

They were all huddled by the makeshift campfire Barton fashioned out of some wooden logs and a matchstick. Sam, in charge of roasting marshmallows, was gently coaxing Bucky into eating one and promising him it’s not poisoned. Wanda was handing out steaming cups of hot chocolate brewed from the pack Natasha brought in a few hours ago, a staple in her weekly grocery runs because apparently the kid witch liked sweets.

Scott gingerly takes a sip from his mug, some of the warmth seeping into liquid courage he was building up for weeks now. He takes a deep breath before plunging himself into the waves.

“I can’t be the only one worried that the enemy has infiltrated our territory, right?”

To their credit, neither of them kill him on sight.

Wanda pauses in levitating one of the wooden logs above the hearth, a single bark of kindling hovering uncertainly over the air. Bucky has an unreadable expression on his face when he regards him. A look passes between Sam and Clint, betraying nothing of their inner thoughts at his outburst.

The fire is nice and toasty, but the air is stifling now and Scott has never felt more the outsider than at that very moment.

Until Sam breaks into a hearty laugh. “Widow?” he shakes his head amusedly. “No, man, Steve and Nat are tight. They’re past stuff like that.”

Scott furrows his eyebrows in concern. “But isn’t she—”

“On Tony’s side?” Clint quips, poking at one of the planks. Wanda finally drops the floating bark, and Scott doesn’t miss the flash of something in her eyes when she glances at him from the other side of the fire. He thinks he saw a spark of red for a second. “Sure, I guess. Technically she’s Team Iron Man or whatever that means. But Natasha is also fiercely loyal, especially when it comes to Steve.”

“What does that mean?” Scott asks in genuine confusion.

Sam opens his mouth to elaborate, words already forming on his mouth; before he seems to come to a belated realisation, blinks, and manages a nonchalant shrug. "Damn if I know,” he admits, turning over a puffy mallow and watching the crackles of fire burn its edges. “But she’s good for him. That’s all I care about.”

“And he’s good for her,” Clint returns easily, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. “Maybe sometimes it’s just that easy.”

They hear the crunching of footsteps on snow creeping up behind them, and Scott takes this as his cue to stash the conversation for another time.

He watches them stroll in together carefully.

Steve holds the gate open for her and places a small hand on her back as they advance in the small patch of woods by the backyard. Natasha settles next to Wanda, hands going up and down her arms to warm the younger girl despite being the one having only just gone out for a walk in the middle of Russian winter: because, and at this Scott is now confident, the jacket resting on her shoulders three times her size was keeping her warm enough.

The quinjet doesn’t start up right away.

Scott is slowly panicking, because the realisation that he was truly out of his depth at fighting in the next greatest civil war of the century notches above his pay grade only viscerally begins to take hold.

He has a family back home, pets to feed, a little life saving every now and then; but never this colossal of a scale, never with the stakes stacked up so high against them, that it really could only ever be toppled down by the likes of fucking Iron Man and Captain America.

But Steve is still confident.

It’s so bloody obvious he was always going to keep at it, gunned down the concrete walls of the airport and clawed his way out of it brick by brick if need be. He was really and truly the good man underneath it all, and at the back of his mind, Scott still finds himself awed at the fact.

But he doesn’t know how on earth the man came out of that airport not visibly rattled, not at all unlike how Scott was currently feeling; and, as he processes the rest of their wayward expressions, he knew he wasn’t alone in thinking so.

“Cap,” Sam wheezes by the floor, fighting to labor his breathing with a hand clutched on his dislocated shoulder. “I still got the jeep parked outside. It’s not too late. We can hike the rest of the way.”

“No,” Steve replies, an edge of conviction in his voice. There is not a single tremor in his stubborn hands gripping the wheel. “That’s gonna hold us back days. We just need to be up in the air for now. We need—”

“A woman to come to your rescue again?”

This time, it’s Scott who sighs in deep relief at her voice. This time, Scott doesn’t fight the churn in his stomach at the prospect of having someone who nearly nicked him lifeless not even hours ago this close a range with them again. This time, she is not Black Widow, but simply Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers’ friend.

This time, Scott thinks, he will let them be easy just like that.

There was no more a sign of tremble in his voice or hands the entire battle, but at the lilt of her voice, he just crumbles.

“Nat,” Steve breathes out when he turns to her, hands fisting at his sides in an attempt to regain control. Just like that, he unravels; so easily and without preamble in the face of her steeled strength. “I can’t get it to turn on— And I— We have to get Bucky—”

“Work through it, Steve,” she cooes in probably the most placating voice he’s heard of her, but she doesn’t move to touch him when she comes close. Her hands are going a mile a minute over the control panel, pushing buttons and lifting levers. Steve is hovering by her side like it's the only thing holding him together. “You know how to fly this thing, right?”

Steve is visibly taken aback and angles his body to face her. “You’re not coming with us?”

The question hangs in the air.

It charges the silence around them and quells any of their growing uncertainty, because, clear as it was of Steve’s well-founded and undeniable leadership skills: they also knew, intimately, she anchored him through it all.

Sam was putting pressure around Bucky’s human arm as he looked back and forth at them tensely. He could feel Wanda hitch her breath behind him.

Natasha’s fingers keep flying away at the keyboard, until they feel the telling signs of an engine rumbling underneath and the overhead lights spurting back to light. The whole jet roars to life in the next second, heating fans whizzing and technical sounds beeping. She shifts some gears around and locks in a destination with the GPS navigation.

When she turns to look at Steve, it is then Scott forces himself to pry his eyes away and not bear witness to this part of his already over documented life. In that single moment of uncertainty, the what does that mean is meant like this: an intimate baring of a soul, heart, trust: in a way no words could ever begin describing or should even attempt to put to paper.

It is friendship at the most intimate level, it is soulmates on the most soul-crushing departure, and it is the everything else that comes after.

“Not this time, Rogers,” he hears her say, and Scott doesn’t have to imagine the slight fracturing of his iron-clad footing in the world swaying ever so slightly, when he replies with: “Then I guess I’ll see you around, Romanoff.” .

“So is she like,” Scott hesitates. “Cap’s first lady or something?”

They’re some seventy feet off the air above the Pacific Ocean, the moisture from the ocean drifting up to the open barracks and making the air glisten around them. Bucky is fast asleep somewhere down the lower levels with Wanda keeping watch over him, upon the fervent insistence of Steve arguing he needed rest. It came as no surprise that he also self-assigned himself the first watch of the night.

Sam is sharpening his knives, the grating sound of sandpaper slicing over iron piercing through the silent hum and drum of the night.

“Please,” he scoffs, looking over at him. “If anything, Steve is her first lady.”

#romanogers #stevenat #fic #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #romanogers fi #stevenat fic #marvel fic

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camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate it - Part 8

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.

Notes: Well I hope you like it, part 9 is going to be up on Saturday, i know it may not be the best one but I think is actually better than part 7. I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you so much for your support, it feels unreal.

I loved reading about your theories and opinions. I will gladly received any feedback, comment, opinion or request. I hope you guys a have day! Thank you for reading! I hope you guys like it!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett

Russian Translations:

А Вы, Олли? - Do you, ollie?

Ты не сказал им, не так ли? - You didn't tell them, did you?

The darkness of the night made the hideouts easier. The persistent sound of the music coming through different places made it harder to focus. The cold and loneliness of the night made the two superheroes teams stand secretly behind the warehouse.

Standing ready for the signal to invade the place, Oliver Queen and Kara Danvers, best known as the Green Arrow and Supergirl. With comms on their ears as Lena and Felicity gave information about the event. Alex arriving with Jonn, Diggle, Nia, and Brainly ready to enter the place.

The Danvers sister shared a look of protectiveness and caring, as Felicity gave the signal to enter. The archer looked back at his friends before entering first, with the Kryptonian no long behind.

With the lights off, they both spoke up. Oliver throws a bomb arrow to the middle of the warehouse. “You have failed this city!”

“Why do you guys do this, knowing we are going to stop you?”And your sister getting a look from your best friend for creating a pun.

As both of the teams caught the majority of the people in question for minutes, the criminal that had been terrorizing National City and Star city was still on the loose. As both of your sisters ran where Sinclair’s bodyguards were being put down by a blonde. Oliver stood on the top of the stage watching the whole interaction with Anatoly by his side.

Kara felt her world stop as she heard it again. The blood pumping sound coming from your familiar chest. Alex stopping looking back at her, as the blonde stumbled with her feet, slowly falling into the floor as tears started to come out. Desperately looking around the place with a foggy mind trying to find you. Alex tried to ground her pulling her into her, whispering calming words to your sisters.

Your best friend had already recognized you, as you flipped the table and tried to cover, throwing a tranquilizer arrow immediately, hoping to make it before Roulette could shoot you. As Kara looked up where her friend stood throwing the arrow in direction of the tattooed woman, where you stood.

Shaking Alex as she got up. She watched Roulette firing at you and hitting you, making you fall to the floor. Your redhead sister looking at her confused before your name fell out of her lips as a whisper “Y/N”

All of the comms became quiet, for a second as all of them shared a look. Your archer best friend, already with you in his arms taking your pulse. As he put pressure into the wound, looking for a pulse, finding a faint one. He screamed, “We need to get her to our place now!”

You on the arms of your sister, with the rest of the teams not long behind. Some of them are still in shock. Alex and Oliver running into the medical bed where your ex-girlfriend and Felicity stood connecting you to the machines.

Oliver rips your dress where the wound was located, only to find an open scar and various scars in the rest of your chest. Looking over to where Felicity stood checking your vitals, recognizing the tattoo that stood on the top right of your chest. He sighed, before grabbing Alex from her shoulders getting her out of the space where you were laying. “Alex! I need you to trust me okay!?”

“I'm a doctor and she is my sister, Oliver let me pass!” Alex yelled angrily, trying to push past the archer.

Oliver looked at her before responding as he jogged to the med space again “I can't! You are not stable and we can help her, like this you can't”

Your oldest sister stood angrily and went to enter again only to be stopped by Kara evolving her in a hug. Both of them sat on the floor as the angry tears left their eyes, blaming themselves for the situation.

-----

The pain was the only thing that you could feel as you started to gain consciousness. The brightness hitting your eyes the moment you blinked. With a clouded mind, you slowly began to look at your surroundings, when you felt various things attached to your body.

Slowly closing and opening your eyes, as they adjusted to the white light that illuminated the room. You went to move, only to feel the IV in your arm and the tight bandage in your abdomen.

Groaning internally as the pain increased. You heard faintly familiar voices that you couldn't make of. The cold of the place made you curse internally as it felt that it was increasing the headache. Trying to clench your fits but failing when you felt all of your strength leave your body.

Tossing around the bed, you noticed your cuffed hand into the bed. Furrowing your eyes as you look back now, in more pain and consciousness at your surroundings. Closed walls, small medical instruments, bright surroundings. Noticing your dress on the couch you looked down to see a familiar sweatshirt and shorts only to make you sigh in annoyance, putting the dots together.

Moving around the bed, you grabbed the V1 and took it out slowly, putting it on the table beside you. Breathing multiple times, gaining all of the strength you could have the moment, you dislocated your thumb crying in silence as you did before getting your hand out of the cuffs.

Getting up slowly, you tried to look for your gun or anything in the space, only to find none. Breathing heavily the moment you tried to walk as the pain in your abdomen overwhelmed you and made you get support on the wall. Trying to conceal now your emotional and physical feelings you clenched your fits only to bandage around them.

Nodding after gaining a part of your self-control you started to walk out of the med bed just to see Oliver with his arms crossed over his chest, stopping you.“Y/N, can't let you do that”

“For a former assassin, you do not take the right precautions, Queen” You responded with venom in your voice, trying to walk past your best friend only to be stopped as he got in your way. Showing your free hands.

“I got things to do, and places to be, so get out of my way Oliver” You hissed when the archer made no move, and only stepped closer to you. Oliver examined your face as he did.

Your eyes that once were full of light now filled with darkness and wall. Your face that was once filled with smiles, now it was filled with voidness. Your once warm and caring expressions were now blank. A small scar on your cheek, almost unnoticeable if you weren't in the light. Everything had changed, and for the first time in a while, Oliver felt like he was just back on the island without any hope to save you, you were long gone and he knew it.

“Where do you think you are going to go like that?”He claimed as he grabbed your shoulder, walking in the direction of a separate room.

You concluded the struggle against his hold, even though the pain increased as you sat abruptly on the couch. “To take the fucking smirk out of Roulettes face with satisfaction”

You murmured loud enough for him to hear, as you moved around trying to get comfortable so the pain running through your veins could go away “Don't touch me”

“What are you gonna do? Fight me?” He sarcastically said before leaning on the doorway, watching your every move.

“I may be not scared of anything anymore, Oliver but I’m not stupid enough to fight you,” You said before moving to lay on the couch. Ignoring his every try to speak to you.

The silence became part of you in the past years, it helped to control your emotions, your wounds, and yourself. It became your solution to your problems. Now with it by your side, it refugees you as time passes.

Oliver stood there for two whole hours, trying to find solutions in his thoughts. Memories that were buried inside came to play as he tried to find anything to get you back. But he knew that if you got into the Bratva organization there wasn't a single thing you haven't been through, and your scars confirmed his theories.

All of the peace and calm was broken when your redhead sister burst through the door. Infuriated, and with a resentful expression on her face. Her breath got in her throat as she clenched her fits when she saw you.

“What the hell happened to you?” Your oldest sister said, trying to hide the broken tone coming from her voice. Standing in front of you with fear in her eyes as she did, the fear of losing you again, the fear you saw more than once in her’s and Kara's eyes in any type of crisis.

Kara came through the door no long behind, calmer than Alex but still tense. Both of your sisters shared a look when your silence became your answer. Ignoring them you kept looking at the ceiling, with a blank emotion.

Kara walked closer to you, putting a hand on Alex as the redhead started to yell at you for leaving, for getting shot, for killing someone, for everything. Trying to relive the madness she had for you since you left. Your blonde sister shut Alex up, as she sat on the floor facing you like you did when you were kids.

With legs crossed and hands on your laps in front of the couch, when your mom wasn't home. Your sisters and you talked about what was wrong when you were kids. There wasn't anything you would hide from each other even when you moved to National City for college after so much time of disconnection between you three, it became natural.

But the two of them sat there for hours and you didn't even move as the time passed, the only thing you did was breathe and stare at the ceiling. It was like you were trained to be in silence, you were completely void and both of your older sisters noticed.

Trying to defuse the tension every now and then, Kara or Alex would speak up to ask you a question, but you remained silent. The rest of the teams stood in the Arrow cave, some of them more worried and confused than the others. Felicity had already spoken to Oliver. She had noticed the tattoo on your arm which did not pass by her remembering the same tattoo her husband once had on his left shoulder.

Lena buried herself in her hands, as she tried to make sense of the situation. Many things had happened in the last few years, and many mistakes she had made, now we're basically feeling impossible to recover. Her foggy mind and unbalanced feelings all over the place.

Pulling herself up, Alex walked out of the room after sharing a look with Kara, when you kept silent and motionless. Oliver, Felicity, and Lena walked up to her as soon as she got out, with tears in her eyes, the redhead went to speak but was beaten by the archer. “She is not talking, is she?”

Alex nodded slowly before getting out of the way so the four of them could walk into the room.

Noticing the now five standing figures in front of you, you remained in silence. The pain somehow became bearable as time passed, and with the control of your physical and mental feelings. You were basically the same person, Oliver once was.

You seated back and examined each one of them. Oliver remained with a simple expression of worries, with his arms crossed, trying to find the words to get you to talk. Felicity stood on the far right with the table in her hand, as she searched for any part of your old self. Alex stood with her arms crossed, tears threatening to come out but still a desperate expression on her face. Kara was closer than the rest, with hope in her eyes, but a flash of pain and resentment in them too. Opening and closing her mouth multiple times as she cleaned the angry tears coming from her eyes. Lena stood upright looking at you like a ghost. Gripping to the sleeves of her sweater as she stared, biting her lip while trying to make the tears not come out.

“What do you want?” You claimed as you played with your hands, glancing at each one of them. Oliver remained calm, and not surprised when your cold and indifferent tone of voice hit them. While the three women felt their breathing get caught in their throats.

Your best friend took a step closer to you, with a challenging look in his eyes as both of you connected glances. He was pushing your buttons so you would overwhelm yourself, but you knew better than that. You had seen him and your sisters do the same thing a lot of times, so you played along. “You know what we want”

“А Вы, Олли?” You said not looking anywhere else but his eyes. Your sisters and Felicity looked shocked, as you spoke while Lena understood you perfectly, furrowing her eyebrow in confusion. What were you hiding?

When the archer didn't respond, you took your turn again, this time with a sarcastic chuckled as you did. “Ты не сказал им, не так ли?”

Oliver looked at you annoyed before rubbing his temples, Lena got closer only to be stopped when your oldest sister angrily yelled at you. “What the hell happen to you?”

If she would have done it three years ago, you would have flinched. Surprising your sisters and Lena when you didn't. Instead, you looked void, and with your eyes challenging Alex with determination and calmness with nothing to fear. No one had ever challenged your sister, everyone feared the redhead, except for you.

You had lost all of your fears in the past years. You weren't scared of death or anything else. You became blank, it didn't matter to you, if you died or if you were alive. You didn't have anything to live for, but you also didn't have anything to die for. So you survived.

“Nothing of your damn business, Alexandra” You responded going back to laying on the couch. Your two sisters and ex-girlfriend exchanged looks, having a silent conversation. You had never called her that, it was always, Alex, Al, Allie, Bear Bear. That scared the hell out of both of them, tears coming out as they walked out of the room slamming the door as they did.

You weren't there, you weren't yourself, you weren't the person who had once loved them infinitely, you weren't the person they had once comforted after having a nightmare, you weren't the person who danced and sung around the kitchen as you cooked, you weren't the person who took their camera everywhere so you could captivate moments with them, you weren't the person who was an absolute child during each holiday, you weren't the person who would drop everything to make you sure they were okay, you weren't the person who cried themselves to sleep when you had disappointed them, you weren't the person who tried to be funny, you weren't the person who was distinguished for being clumsy.

You weren't the person they once knew, you were gone and deep down they all knew it.

#baby danvers #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #alex danvers x reader #kara danvers x reader #supergirl imagine

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babypandawrites · 3 years

Text

Allies, Pt. 5

The Blue Spirit

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: Death Threats Word Count: 2,742 Summary: While the sickness alimenting Sokka wasn’t affecting you, you still end up with some problems to deal with.

-Navigation- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Atla Masterlist-

“Haha! Classic Appa.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together as her and Aang walked into the temple that the siblings had been in. Sokka being sick was enough of a worry, him having delusions added another level of it. “How’s Sokka doing?” Aang asked, as the two of them walked closer. Katara looked at them, worry clearly written into her features. “Not so good. Being out in that storm really did a number on him.” She paused, looking at Y/n. “You're sure you're feeling alright Y/n?” When Sokka got sick, Katara and Aang assumed that she would as well since she’d also been out in the storm with him. Turns out living in the forest without proper shelter for several years really amped up her immune system so she was a lot luckier than her friend was. That didn’t stop Katara from expressing concern every time she saw her, though. “Yes, I’m sure Katara. Save your worry for your brother.” She nodded, looking over at her brother when he sniffed back his runny nose. “We couldn’t find any ginger root for the tea, but, we did find a map.” Aang brought out a scroll, and spread it on the ground. “There’s a herbalist institute on the top of that mountain. We could probably find a cure for Sokka there.” “Aang, he’s in no condition to travel. Sokka just needs more rest. I’m sure he’ll be better by tomorrow.” Katara started to cough after finishing her sentence. “Oh no.” “Not you too!” “Relax you two, it was just a little cough. I’m fin-” She cut herself off with more coughing. Aang took a step back and behind Y/n. “That’s how Sokka started yesterday. Now look at him- he thinks he’s an earthbender!” The three looked over at Sokka, who was swinging at the air. “Take that, you rock.” Y/n nodded in agreement with Aang. “Yeah. A few more hours and you’ll be just as bad as he is.” She sighed, holding her head in her hand. “I knew you should have let me take care of him.” Grabbing his glider, Aang went to the edge of the temple. “I’m going to find some medicine. Y/n, can you watch them?” A large flash of lightning cracked in the distance. “Uh, maybe it’s safer to go on foot.” Y/n, who was getting Katara laid down and comfy, looked at Aang. “Maybe I should go with you, just in case, if you need to get something for an antidote it’ll be faster with the two of us.” Glancing between her and the sick siblings, he was hesitant to agree. But, Y/n was right, and they should be fine up here. It’s out of the way, the Fire Nation shouldn’t find them. “Hmm.. Alright. Appa, Momo, keep an eye on them.” Appa grunted, as Y/n joined Aang at the edge of the temple. Sokka laughed. “You guys are killin’ me!” Aang grabbed onto Y/n, and used his airbending to launch them into the air, before safely landing far down onto the hill.

They’d ran basically the entire way to the herbalist institute, once they got there, they barged in completely out of breath. A cat meowed, and jumped out of their way. Y/n had leaned her hands against her knees, attempting to catch her breath, while Aang babbled off to the herbalist. “Hello! I’m sorry to barge in like this, but we need some medicine for our friends. They have fevers and they’ve been coughing and-” The herbalist cut off his quick speaking, mixing something in a bowl that sat in front of her. “Settle down, young man. Your friends are going to be fine.” She walked over to another table, where the cat was sitting. “I’ve been up here for over fourty years you know, used to be others, but they all left years ago.” She started to pet the cat, who began to purr in response. “Now it’s just me and Miyuki.” “That’s nice.” “Wounded Earth Kingdom troops still come by now and again, brave boys, and thanks to my remedies they always leave in better shape than they arrive.” “That’s nice. Are you almost done?” “Hold on, I just need to ass one last ingredient.” The herbalist walked amongst the shrubbery, looking around and muttering to herself. Aang was exasperated, Y/n was starting to get the feeling this lady might be nuts. The herbalist was looking for the ingredient for a while, the two of them just decided to sit themselves while they waited. They both sat with their heads resting on the table. “Here’s what I was looking for! Plum blossom!” Both of their heads shot up, Aang got up and tried to take the bowl from the woman, but she smacked his wrist making him drop it. “Hands off! What do you think you're doing?” Aang’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Taking the cure for our friends?” Y/n got up, and moved to stand behind him as the herbalist laughed aloud. “Ahaha! This isn’t a cure, it’s Miyuki’s dinner.” The woman sat the bowl down on the table in front of Miyuku, the cat began to eat it. “Plum blossom is her favorite.” Aang breathed out a sigh. “What about our friends?” “Well, all they need is some frozen wood frogs. There’s plenty of them down in the valley swamp.” “Why couldn’t you have mentioned that sooner?!” “What are we supposed to do with frozen frogs?” They spoke at the same time, the herbalist decided to only pay mind to Aang’s question. “Why, suck on them of course!” Both of their expressions twisted into shock. “What?!” “Suck on them!?” “The frog’s skin excretes a substance that’ll cure your friends, but make sure you get plenty. Once those little critters thaw out, they’re useless!” Silence lingered in the air for a moment. Aang broke it. “You’re insane aren’t you?” “Thaaat’s right.” “Wonderful. Aang, let’s go.” Y/n grabbed onto his wrist, and dragged his out of the building so they could go get these frogs. Soon after they left though, a pair of arrows was shot at them. An arrow landed on each side of the two. They looked around, as a large number of arrows zipped through the air at them. Aang used his airbended to blow them away. He reached down and grabbed one of the arrows from the ground, and held it out. “Uuh, I think you dropped this.” Both of their eyes widened as several archers surrounded them in the trees above. Y/n glanced over to her friend. “We should probably run.” “Yeah.”

Running didn’t do much for them, seeing as the two ended up getting caught by the archers. This was… just great. Their captors had brought them to a Fire Nation base and separated them into different rooms. Y/n had been shackled by her wrist, with two short chains that connected to the floor. She struggled against the restraints, as someone opened the door to where she was being kept. “Well, well, well, look who it is. I almost didn’t believe it when I was told that not only the Avatar was retrieved but you were as well, Y/n.” Looking up, she glared at the man, but didn’t say anything. “I always thought you were a lot of things, a traitor wasn’t one of them. Though I guess coward and traitor go hand in hand.” Zhao stepped closer to her. “I have to keep the Avatar alive, so he doesn’t reincarnate. But, there’s nothing stopping me from killing you. I’m sure you’d love to join that pathetic mother of yours.” “Don’t talk about my mother like that.” He laughed. “Or what? You’ll handstand me to death? Maybe throw in a somersault? I’m so scared.” She gritted her teeth as Zhao turned on his heel, walking back to the door. “I have some business to take care of, you’ll be dealt with later.” He slammed the door behind him. The way he spoke made her think that she would be facing death. Or worse. Probably worse.

Y/n went to grab the chains that held her in place, but stopped at hearing a commotion outside. “Aang please let that be you…” The blue masked figure who pushed open the door was definitely not Aang. Though, judging by the knocked out guards in the hallway, they might not be here to kill her. They didn’t say anything as they approached her, and sliced the chains that held her down with their dual swords. Wait… dual swords? There was no time to dwell on the thought, the person was already leaving the room. Pushing herself off the ground she followed them, swiftly taking one of the guards' swords on the way out. She followed the masked person through the halls, silently following their stealthy movements. They approached a hallway with a few guards watching over it. The masked person looked back at her, and nodded their head to the guards, before sneaking to the other end of the hallway. So she needed to deal with these guys, alright. Bringing her bow would have been a big help right now. Though on second thought, it probably would have just gotten taken in her capture. She carefully slid through the shadows to get closer to the guards. There were only three of them, so this shouldn’t be too hard. Adjusting her grip on the sword, she stepped next to one of the guards and grabbed them by the shoulder. Using the handle of the sword, she jabbed it into a pressure point on the neck, causing the guard to collapse immediately. She ducked under a wave of fire sent her way, taking the chance to crouch and knock a guard to the ground. When his back hit the ground she grabbed onto his head and slammed it into the ground. Once she knocked out the third guard, the masked person came back, this time dragging Aang by his collar. He perked up, as the masked person released his shirt collar and led them through the building. “I’m glad you're okay Y/n.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, I could say the same to you.” The masked person turned to look at them, telling them to be quiet by putting a finger to their mouth. After a bit more sneaking, the person slid down into a large grate, it led to the sewer. Y/n and Aang glanced at each other, before the latter motioned to the grate as a silent way to say ‘ladies first’. She rolled her eyes playfully, tucking the sword she stole into the rope tied around her waist, before slipping through the grate, Aang soon followed. They slid along the wall, as Fire Nation soldiers walked above. The masked person peaked up through some of the grates, they turned to look at the two and motioned upwards before climbing out. They must have gotten to an area clear of soldiers. Y/n grabbed onto the grates and pulled herself up through them, helping a slightly struggling Aang once she was up. The three ran through the base, to a conveniently placed rope that hung from one of the guarding walls. It was probably used to get in. Aang started climbing, the masked person going next, then Y/n last. As they were climbing an alarm sounded through the base. “There, on the wall!” A soldier appeared at the top of the wall and cut the rope they were climbing, sending the three falling. Aang shouted, but used his airbending so the three of them had a soft landing. The masked person unsheathed their dual swords, Y/n did the same with the sword she stole, and the trio started running. “The Avatar has escaped! Close all the gates immediately!” Aang ran to the front of the trio. “Stay close to me!” As they got close to the closing gate, a group of soldiers blocked it, but Aang sent a blast of air to blow them out of the way. While he got close to the gate, Y/n and the masked person got surrounded by a group of soldiers. The two engage in battle with the soldiers, fighting together effortlessly. Aang stepped in, and used his airbending again to blow the soldiers away. Using a large gust of air he boosted the masked person up to the top of the gate then did the same to Y/n. She landed at the top with a roll, knocking down one of the guards by crashing into his legs. By the time she got up, Aang was flying towards them by spinning a makeshift staff above his head. He grabbed onto the masked person by the torso with his legs to fly off with them. Y/n grabbed onto their leg so she didn’t get left behind. While Aang struggled to keep them all afloat, the two used their swords to block the spears being thrown up at them.

The trio barely made it to the next wall, crash landing at the top of the gate. Almost immediately they were engaged in battle. There were three guards, each of them took one on. Y/n was able to shove the guard she fought off the wall of the gate, while the masked person and Aang did as well. It was a struggle to do so, but they ended up making it to the final gate. Though they were still stuck on the inside, and hadn’t managed to get out yet. A small group of firebenders sent a blast of flames their way, but Aang was quick to push the two behind him and airbend the flames away. Zhao held his hand up at the soldiers. “Hold your fire! The Avatar must be captured alive.” The masked person slid up behind Aang, and crossed his swords over his neck. Y/n looked at them with wide eyes, but didn’t do anything. This was a ticket out, Zhao couldn’t risk Aang being killed and this person knew that. “Open the gate.” Zhao spoke through gritted teeth. “Admiral, what are you doing?” “Let them out, now!” The gate opened behind them, and the masked person started to back out with his swords still crossed at Aang’s neck. Y/n backed out with them, keeping her gaze fixated on the soldiers with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, an arrow zipped through the air, and hit the masked person's well… mask. Knocked out, they fell backwards. After recovering from a moment of shock, Aang airbended a large cloud of dust around them. Curious, Aang reached down to remove the person’s mask, revealing Zuko. Both him and Y/n looked at the Prince with wide eyes, shocked. Aang started to back away, scared, before tripping and falling backwards. Y/n didn’t move, expression contorting to a mix of both shock and concern. What had happened to him… Aang had started to run away, but halted his steps when he realized Y/n wasn’t following. “Y/n, we have to go!” “We can’t leave him...” Mumbling, she hooked her arms under Zuko’s and started to drag him along the ground, in the direction Aang had started running. The other hesitated for a moment, before he came over to help her.

They’d found safety in the nearby forest. After laying Zuko down on the ground, Aang took a seat on a nearby root. “I’ll stay here until he wakes up, you should get back to Katara and Sokka and make sure they're alright. I’ll get the frozen frogs on my way back.” Y/n’s gaze bounced between the two. “Are you sure, Aang? I can stay if that would make you feel better.” He shook his head. “I’d feel better knowing all my friends are safe. Zuko is dangerous, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt or worse.” “...Alright.” She was hesitant, but left the two and made her way back to the temple Katara and Sokka were at. They seemed to be doing fine, or as fine as they could be while sick. Aang returned not too long after Y/n, and put a frozen frog in Katara and Sokka’s mouths. “Suck on these. They’ll make you feel better.” Aang collapsed onto Appa’s tail with a sigh. Y/n looked at him with a concerned expression. “Are you okay, Aang?” He offered a silent nod. “How was your trip? Did you make any new friends?” Sokka’s words were slightly muffled, from the frog in his mouth. “No, I don’t think so.” Aang rolled over, facing away from the others.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar the last airbender x reader #atla x reader #reader insert #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #team avatar #slowburn #book one allies

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retvenkos · 3 years

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burning up |

Avatar the Last Airbender - An OC Story.

word count: 1.1k

tw: burning imagery, betrayal, heartbreak, angst

A/N: so, uhhhh.... my little sister and i are reading the A:TLA comics and was reminded of the amazing series “Runaway” by @renjunsuwus,,,, and i did a thing. All credit for the idea goes to Ashley, and please check out everything she has on her page!

Summary: After a betrayal, (Y/n) has nowhere left to go. She was a runaway now, but just where she was going, she didn’t know.

(Y/n) had been running from the moment she was born into this burning, war-torn world. Her whole life had been spent running from one pain to the next. If it wasn’t her parents pushing her away it was the Academy - the soldiers turning her corrupt, bleeding her into a monster that she never intended to become.

And if it wasn’t the Fire Nation forging (Y/n) into something beyond recognition, it was her own guilt eating her from the inside out, a cavern that was never quite empty but raw and heaving, still. (Y/n) had always been her worst enemy - the one thing she could never live with and the one thing she could never leave behind.

There had been moments when (Y/n) thought she had found peace - those nights spent on the other side of the Academy’s walls when she was wrapped in another’s arms, looking up at the stars and imagining them to be something beautifully cold. For a moment she could see them as something else - not burning up and combusting from within, but made of ice and reflecting down on them, a respite from this world. She would look at Taki beside her, taking in his calm and pensive expression, and she would kiss him to get rid of that raging fire in her chest - to find warmth without the burning flames. Taki would squeeze her hand with all the strength he had, and there was once a time (Y/n) thought that it was from love.

But now she knew the truth.

“You’re fire nation.” And his voice had been cold and empty, but burning with a frozen fury. (Y/n) hadn’t breathed. It had taken everything to not fall on the spot. “I could never love you.”

Now, (Y/n) was running - pushing her way through the trees and not caring how the branches scratched her, how the twigs tore at her clothes, how she was fumbling in her escape and ruining herself along the way.

She had loved him and trusted him, but now she was running. Things always seemed to come back to here - the unforgiving ground beneath her feet, the burn in her thighs, the bile in her throat, and the pain.

Oh, that pain; how it dragged her down.

(Y/n) fell to her knees at the base of a pond, too tired to go on, too full of the fire that consumed her - their tongues greedy as they devastated all that she was, leaving her to smoldering ruins.

She should have known that it would come to this - it always did. (Y/n) had spent her whole life being pawned off to others, being fixed with that cold stare and told through spite and anger that she was nothing and that suffering would be her penance for the inconvenience she had caused. There was no escaping the ire of everyone around her; there was no respite from the fire. She could run, but there was nowhere where she would be free from the flames.

(Y/n) hadn’t realized she was crying until she was heaving, and the water in the pond rippling outward from her falling tears. (Y/n) saw her likeness swimming within the water - unbranded and unclaimed. She would never be a Yuyan Archer, now. She had never wanted to be one - never wanted to become a weapon for others to use, another soldier in a hundred-year war without end. So why did she feel so hollow now, that her path was her own?

It was that guilt again, tearing her apart. (Y/n) screwed her eyes shut, and against the dark of her eyelids, she saw a tattoo swimming there - one that would have branded her for life, making her the Yuyan Archer she never wanted to become.

All of that anger rose in (Y/n)’s chest and she lashed out, pushing her hands into the pond and slapping the water onto her face, as though she could rub herself free from the ink that never made it beneath her skin. She hadn’t been marked, yet, but it felt she had. (Y/n) dug the heels on her hand into her flesh, feeling the sting of her cheeks; it burned.

When all that she had was raw and dripping, (Y/n) curled in on herself and waited. What she was waiting for, she didn’t know, but she knew it would come, eventually. All she had now was instinct, and the weapons strapped on her back.

For others that wouldn’t be enough, but (Y/n) had lived on less, before. At least this time, she wouldn’t allow herself to be fooled by silly things like love.

There was no such thing.

There was only fire, burning and crippling and fatal. There was nothing that could stop it - not the water in this pond, or the water in her eyes, or the oceans that she would traverse to get away from all that had once been.

The world was burning, and (Y/n) would watch it go up in flames.

One day, the tongues of the fire would reach her. They’d crawl up her skin and envelop her, and the fire in her belly would reach up to meet it. And when she was burning, (Y/n) would look up into the night and see the stars for what they truly were - fires burning in the cold sky above, blinking out of existence because they dared to burn too bright.

(Y/n) stood and got her bearings back, checking the weapons she still had and fixing her appearance into something less lost, something a little less broken. She brushed off her outfit, as though trying to rid herself of the battle that had happened just moments before, and with a deep, steady breath, she convinced herself that she had left it all behind, burning in the heart of the Fire Nation Capital, still smouldering to ash.

Steeling herself against all that had ever been, (Y/n) pushed forward, using all the skill that she had ever gained to evade those that had taught her. For the rest of her days, she would be a runaway, but at the very least, she could be a good one.

When she was far enough away to be safe from discovered, (Y/n) had the chance to look back. For a moment, the thought tempted her, but she had looked back before - once, when she believed that Taki loved her, when she fathomed a life in another’s arms. She would not make that mistake again.

“I won’t be coming back.”

And she meant it - the burning in her chest told her so.

-- taglist: @coffee--writes // message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

#avatar: the last airbender #atla #atla oc #fanfic #avatar fanfiction #angst #alright but go stan ashley and her work it's wonderful and i'm very much in love with it if you can't tell #and also stan her because she got my awkward dm and enabled me to write this

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aefedges · 3 years

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The king whose cause may rise or fall with White Harbor

There are limitations for those of you who will be using air coolers as well. The weather service's snow water equivalent calculations showed 6.3 inches of liquid precipitation was on the ground in Orchard Park on Nov. And on the forefoot of shoes of the former design, the Nike Shox column technology is applied.. 9 Baruch Herzfeld: Using his cycling shop, Traif Bike Gesheft under the Williamsburg Bridge as a soapbox, Herzfeld has become an icon in the biking world and the lone Hasidic Jew who opposes his community anti bike stance (traif, after all, means so maybe that makes sense). Again they were employed in washing, ironing and 164sewing by day, and always locked up by night. He's shown here performing in the Netherlands in 1995.. Every anxiety I ghete de schi have raises an echo in his heart. This is designed to create vortices around the pipe and further increase efficiency of the cooler. Some warm words, some feelings, thoughts frankly uttered and we were friends for ever. Had to see to him m’self. I can they just the most ugly things I ever seen.She continues, said, a pair on, you see. “Why this?” Alyosha broke adidas fg in. This meant that they became progressively qualified in stages to fly or ferry increasing classes of aircraft allowing them to eventually ferry all types.. The king whose cause may rise or fall with White Harbor.. Additionally, each level has things that can pendientes bulgari precio be lit up, make sounds, and other interactive features. The ETP targets an increase in Malaysia gross national income (GNI) per capita to USD15,000 and mobilise USD444 billion in investment by 2020.. There is nike black tn 001 also a press in the cotton season, as any one can observe by reading the Southern newspapers. Somewhere beneath those roofs, the Sons of the Harpy were gathered, plotting ways to kill her and all those who loved her and put her children back in chains. This is the case for new substances that are destined for listing on the DSL after a Schedule II notification for NDSL chemicals or a Schedule VI notification for certain polymers meeting low concern criteria. Just offshore from Mexico there are numerous Japanese purse seiners that work the waters there. The unfortunate youth who has now entailed upon himself the penalty of the law, we doubt not, had no idea that there existed such penalty; and even if he was aware point de croix chalet of the fact, the repeated insults and taunts of the negro go far to mitigate the crime. She was not wrong. In order to comment here, you acknowledge you have read and agreed to our Terms of Service. Some cramping in the gut, a sudden ache behind the eyes, and it is done. That is the final upshot of the matter.. So, it is hard to say it was due to the field turf (which was brand new that year). Tyrion was too startled to resist. For the sake of a common humanity, let us hope that the first extract describes no common event.. Better than these were the big yew longbows borne by the archers of Westerosi blood, and best of all were the great bows of goldenheart treasured by Black Balaq himself and his fifty Summer Islanders. He knew them, though. "I'd prefer you didn't get inside," was something we had to say more than once to people wearing muddy work boots.. Outlook: The Eagles have several standouts at their skill positions. Power consumption is clearly down versus the 6990, and even the GTX 690 draws 5W more at the wall. “I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. All players must wear approved shoes.5.1 Players must be at least 12yrs old at time of registration to participate in an open, mixed or ladies competition. View or download the learning stations here PDF (6829 KB).Canada App Infographic New!This infographic helps you understand how to use the AQHI mobile app while on the go! will learn how to use the AQHI scale to and to decide the best time to go outside. The regional district зимни обувки adidas 2016is weighing its options, which include appealing the court decision or relaunching the bylaw process. Be sure

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aboyandhisstarship · 3 years

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Spirit of Fire Vs Borg

so I was inspired by an ask @office-of-naval-intelligence got and I wanted to write this small thing.

couple of things this is AU post Halo wars 2, couple of things.

Anders did not ride the Ring back to UNSC space why? It did not work IDK take your pick but for one reason or another she is still on the Spirit.

They managed to scavenge a Slip space drive from the wreckage above the Arc and are making there way back to UNSC space, the drive is inefficient so they can only go so far before they have to recharge, so the trip back is a long one, at least a couple years (not Voyager long, but that is not important.)

Also I’m not sure what the UNSC ship alert system is like (there version of Red Alert or Yellow alert) so I Made one up WatchCon being there version of Yellow Alert.

Also I’m assuming the Borg are in no way ready for Kinetic weapon’s which i think makes sense in cannon for them

that should cover everything, so enjoy!

Isabelle’s voice rung out over the ships intercom “Captain Cutter to the bridge.”

Cutter moved to the Bridge his hat in his hand he stated “report.”

A crewman called “unknown vessel on an intercept course sir.”

Cutter sat in the Captain’s chair “Covenant Ship?”

Isabelle stated “Matches no designs known to the UNSC sir.”

Cutter stated “go to WatchCon 1, open a hailing frequency.”

A Crewman said “frequency open sir.”

Cutter nodded “Unknown Vessel this is Captain James Cutter of the United Nations Space Command Vessel Spirit of Fire.”

What sounded like hundreds of voices responded “We are the Borg, Surrender your Ship. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile.”

Cutter made the cut coms motion with his right hand calling out “BATTLE STATIONS!”

Alarms started going off all over the ship as Cutter said “arm all weapons and stand by to fire, Isabelle how strong are they?”

The AI appeared “I’m not sure captain, there vessel is a cube…a big one, but I’m seeing No shielding no armor…it’s like an ant colony.”

Cutter asked “no shielding, no armor?”

The AI answered “yes sir.”

Cutter looked over the figures “one MAC round would do it.”

Anders stormed onto the bridge “sorry for taking so long Captain, is it true…an Alien Hivemind.”

Cutter glanced at her “Doctor?”

Anders sighed “they intend to try and assimilate us Captain that is the only logical idea.”

Cutter answered “well in a minute they only thing they will be assimilating is the cold vacuum of space, stand by MAC!”

Anders said “Captain, this could be our chance…imagine what we could learn!”

Cutter responded “my only concern is the safety of this vessel, if there anything left to recover then you can study it then, Isabelle do you have the firing sequence?”

Isabelle answered “MAC is ready Captain.”

Cutter answered “fire at will.”

The tip of the weapon glowed for a Second before a Sliver streak fired into the cube, there was Large explosion as the Round easily blasted through the cubes haul.

Isabelle reported “Borg Vessel heavily damaged Sir.”

Cutter said “Follow up with Second MAC kill shot.”

Anders said “captain, the vessel is disabled, let me investigate it.”

Cutter exhaled before saying “Cutter to Jerome.”

Jerome answered “go ahead Captain.”

Cutter said “Anders wants some data from our visitors, put together a recon team to board the vessel, Bring back anything of Value, be careful this could be a false flag.”

Jerome answered “we will be careful sir.”

Cutter nodded “saying to the bridge, stand by MAC’s and Archer pods.”

Anders smiled “thank you Captain.”

The a pelican flew towards the cube escorted by 2 Long Swords, the long swords peeled away but stayed close in case the pelican needed a hot Evac as it landed, the doors opened a Jerome Quickly cleared the area with his battle rifle before advancing in an arrow head formation with Alice and Douglas to his left and right respectively, After then Came Anders wearing a clumsy, vacuum tight suit flanked by a team of ODST’s.

Jerome said “ODST’s stay here and hold the exit, if we are back in 30 mikes, pull out and tell the captain to nuke this place to high heaven understood?”

The ODST Leader said “yes sir.”

Alice said “liking the vote of confidence boss.”

Jerome said “just being Prudent Alice, Professor Stay close, if we say go, you go got it.”

Anders nodded “of course.”

Jerome nodded “good, Jerome to Spirit of Fire actual, we have started the Operation.”

He gestured forward and the Spartans advanced in synch. As soon they stepped out the opening they landed in to see what looks like miles of emptiness and Bipedal humanoid’s walking past most ignoring the tense Spartans as Jerome said “hold fire unless they make a move.”

Anders snapped her fingers in front of one drone who simply walked around her she said “it’s like they are ignoring us.”

There was a green effect and then 3 drones appeared out thin air behind the Spartans, Anders heard the sound of 3 safeties’ clicking off at once, but the drones just walked past the humans seemingly uninterested.

Anders said “easy, I don’t think they care about us.”

Douglas said “why, I mean we are here and we are armed…is it stupidity or overconfidence?”

Alice added “they did pick a fight with us with no shields or armor, so the former is possible.”

Jerome said “cut it out, Professor any ideas?”

Anders sighed “if I’m right, they not notice it the same way you don’t notice the cells in your body…whoa.”

Jerome asked “What is it?”

Anders pointed “the ship is fixing itself.”

Alice asked “how?”

Anders shrugged “I’m not seeing any terminals, anything that indicates a bridge engineering…anything…because it is everywhere.”

Anders stepped toward an Alcove on the wall saying, “the ship seems to be run through some kind of neural network. They are fixing the ship through sheer will power.”

Alice blinked “this place is starting to give me the Heebie-jeebies.”

Jerome agreed “I’m with Alice on this one Professor; I’m thinking it’s time we blew this ship to kingdom come.”

Anders said “wait, if we can get our hands on the teleportation tech, just think of what benefit that would be when we get back to the UNSC.”

Jerome looked at the others before saying “fine Professor let’s do this.” He handed Anders a side arm saying “you will need this.”

Anders took the pistol quizzically Jerome answered the question she didn’t ask “why they see us messing with the ship systems, I got a feeling they will not be friendly.”

The group moved before Andres said “here we go, the teleporter,” Lowering her scanner.

Jerome said “defensive positions, shoot to kill.”

As soon as Anders touched the teleporter, The drones started swarming and were answered by swift gunfire, and they dropped inhumanely and very quickly but kept coming.

The ODST’s radioed “Hostile’s are moving sir, they are still ignoring us but they are on their way to you.”

Jerome answered “we noticed thank you Sargent.”

Anders said “got it!”

Alice said “great, let’s be somewhere else!”

Douglas asked “professor any chance we can teleport out of here.”

Anders answered “even if I knew how to use it, if we were in range they would have used it against us.”

Alice fired saying “alright so we shoulder through these guys then.”

Jerome shook his head “no go, there are hundreds of them between us and the pelican, and nowhere near enough ammo.”

He turned on his radio “Pelican take off and get ready for a scoop.”

The ODST answered “Yes sir.”

Anders asked “a scoop? Do I want to know?”

Douglas said “just take a deep breath and wish very hard.”

Jerome said “Long swords requesting fire on our position.”

The long sword pilot answered “roger sir, firing for effect.”

Anders yelped as the missiles impacted the haul, blasting them and a few drones into space, Jerome flipped through space saying “Jerome to Spirt of Fire actual, take out that cube maximum prejudice.”

Cutter answered “roger that fire all MAC’s.”

Anders watched all 3 of the weapons light up before three streaks lit up the space hitting the cube, which exploded into millions of tiny pieces. There she was floating in space lost forever, she started to wonder how exactly she was going to die.

Anders felt herself get grabbed by Douglas a second later Alice grabbed Doulas, and she was grabbed by Jerome, who grabbed a small winch hanging from the Pelican’s doors that pulled them into the vehicle.

Anders was still clenching the teleporter when she sat down in the ship, she looked rather green.

Jerome patted her back “first time being thrown out of a ship in deep space?”

Anders nodded “if we could not do that again, I would appreciate it.”

Jerome simply nodded behind his helmet as the pelican flew back towards the Spirt of Fire.

its drive recharged the vessel jumped into Slip space carrying on its journey back home.

#spirit of fire #Halo wars #The Borg #Let's be real one MAC round would do it #Fanfic prompt #Classified by the Office of Naval Intelligence #let me know what you think #first time wrting for Halo #did i do a good job #Ellen Anders #jerome 092 #alice 130 #douglas 042 #James Cutter #isabelle

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alkhale · 4 years

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Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) Ko-Fi request

Guuuurl can I please get like a bunch of accidental run in encounters with ushiwaka plssss I feel like he doesn’t get much love

Here’s the problem with a school like Shiratorizawa.

It’s a big school.

Fucking huge.

Massive campus yet elite, trimmed student body with a very personal class average of students to teachers. Private tutors are offered in every nook and cranny of the libraries, and the dorms are luscious and extravagant.

Unknown to many of your classmates but most of your team members are aware, you got into Shiratorizawa on a favor from your childhood kyudo coach and a hefty scholarship you had to claw your way towards over a bunch of other studious bookworms.

You’re the leading star on Shiratorizawa’s kyudo club, the ochi from your tachi group, the last person to shoot, the person who guides the rest of the team. You also hold the position of captain in your third year at Shiratorizawa, and kyudo is all you have ever known and love.

But, but, but, but, at a school like Shiratorizawa where a classic, high performance sport like kyudo, a traditional, beautiful sport like kyudo should be fairly popular, your club and your teammates’ performances are always outshone by more high-energy, easily watchable sports.

Shiratorizawa’s sports expect nothing but the highest level of triumphs from all their divisions. From basketball to dressage on horse, each club is required to perform admirably. If you perform well, the more funding you got for your club, the more prestige, and all good things.

Shiratorizawa’s kyudo club is actually high on the list, last year your team placed first at the Inter High and made it to the top four in nationals. Despite all this, despite the fact that you even scored consecutive kaichus, hitting all your marks and not missing a single arrow, making waves in the kyudo community and getting higher renown for your team, your headmaster still refused to acknowledge your club.

You’d come to him, white headband tied around your head, posters ready, armed and prepared to fight tooth and nail for an increase in funds and a spot at advertisements because if your fellow student body just knew about the sport, more people would join, more people would watch, and your club wouldn’t be in danger of closing down after you graduate or declining—

“It’s just not popular!” your headmaster clapped you over the shoulders himself, beaming. “Keep working hard though! Good job last year!”

Because popular and television-worthy, massive poster worthy, constant overhead announcements in the morning and the afternoon about matches, constant offered opportunities for extra credit, belong to certain sports at Shiratorizawa.

Shiratorizawa’s Boys’ Volleyball team.

Every morning you came to school and stared in disgust, not out of a personal vendetta for the guy, but for his whole damn team for taking the spotlight for the past three years you’d been here at Shiratorizawa, at the giant, blown up poster lining your school’s walls, posted in any classroom you two might have together. He flooded the school’s daily bulletin, online articles, even the god damn konbini near your house when your returned home for the holidays.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Volleyball star, playing for Japan’s national youth team—which was something you did drool over because nationals was your goal for kyudo—and even top of all his classes.

You kinda hated this guy and you didn’t even know him.

But it was no matter because this year you planned to take your team all the way to the top. Everyone at this damn rich school was going to known kyudo and love it, damn it. They were going to sing your praises all the way down the halls, line up outside the shooting range to get a peek at your beautiful team and fall in love with the bow.

All the way to the same stage this rich, boastful school’s especial crowning achievment and pride, enough to get them their own stupid bus, enough to get them their own damn gym, enough to get them their own damn cheer squad and—

Your first real, personal meeting with Ushijima Wakatoshi goes something like this:

I don’t need more protein, I need better results. You frowned, staring at the picture of the protein drink you’d been texted that was apparently quite popular these days, according to your fellow teammate. She constantly sang its praises, promising nothing but the best and urging you to start getting into it.

“Your practice schedule is too rigid!” she lectured, shaking her hands at you as you notched another arrow and took aim. “You’re going to shoot arrows till you’re an old maid! No one will marry you at this rate!”

“Kyudo will marry me,” you said, completely serious. “I’m marrying the best kyudo archer of this era and no one else.”

“He’s over fifty!”

“I like them older anyways.”

While normally you would have ignored your vice captain in favor of your own home remedies, your joints were acting up lately, specifically your left wrist and that was never a good sign. You had a feeling the tautness to the new string you were trying to break in wasn’t doing you any favors either. You needed to keep an eye on it in case it got worse.

I can’t bring this team down.

The school’s mini-grocery was fairly empty at this hour. Most students were back at the dorms and anyone still lingering around should’ve just finished with their own club practices.

The rows were designed so items could be taken from either side, not just one. You browsed the aisle, tempted by the choco-snacks but willing yourself to put another batch of fruits in instead. Have to treat my health like second nature. Results don’t come from potato chips.

“Finally,” your eyes zeroed in on the brightly colored bottle. A hefty size, meant to be poured out in cups and drunk daily. You had no idea how it would taste, but by your vice captain’s face, it couldn’t be too great.

You crouched down, reaching for the last bottle on the lowest row.

A massive hand engulfed yours at the top of the bottle’s cap, swallowing your hand whole.

“Holy shit!” you shrieked, ripping your hand away—only to find yourself unable to do so with the massive hand still laid down over yours. You hit the floor on your ass, gaping in horror at the monstrous palm and the calloused fingers and fearing this was finally the moment you were dragged into some abyss by an unknown creature and killed—

Eyes like olives, flecked with gold.

You stared, caught, unable to move for a second. You’d always thought his eyes were brown. You never noticed the weird lining to them that gave them a sharper look, like an eagle or—

“My bad,” Ushijima. Ushijima Wakatoshi said, his voice a deep, resounding rumble in his chest like a goddamn bear.

He crouched there, sitting back on his heels, directly across the aisle from you, peering through the metal shelf like some kind of monster trying to fit through a crack. His massive hand and massive arm barely had to leave his body to reach the same bottle of protein you’d both been shooting for.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

All at once, the flood of posters assaulted your brain. The blaring announcements, the squealing girls, the headmaster, the volleyball buses with his face printed on the side, the magazines, the articles and—

You blinked, once, twice.

His lips parted.

You ripped your hand out from under his with a hefty amount of force. The action sent you flat on your back and you were sure he’d gotten a front row view of under your skirt but you really didn’t give a crap.

“Have it!” you barked out, awkwardly scrambling to your feet. You grabbed your basket and Ushijima blinked once at you, slowly, face monotonous. “You need it more anyway, jerk!”

You huffed, shoulders puffing up. Ushijima was silent on the other side of the aisle, wordlessly taking the bottle of protein with him as he stood.

You gaped.

HE’S A LIVING TREE.

Your neck actually craned a bit, straining to look up at him and he stared down at you from the top of the aisle.

His arm promptly stuck itself through the gap in the shelf, offering the drink to you.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, voice devoid of emotion. “You should take it.”

For some reason that irked you.

You forcefully—struggling with great difficulty—shoved the drink back to his side through the shelves. Ushijima blinked once, slow down at you and you bared your teeth at him before hoisting your basket up into your arm and storming to the check out where you flew through your wallet, aggressively paying the lady at the counter, nearly running into a smirking redhead at the doorway and rushing the rest of the way to your dorm where people kept asking why you looked so damn mad.

“Who was that?” Tendou chirped, sidling up to Ushijima. “A fan?”

Ushijima stared out the still swinging door and calmly examined the bottle of protein in his hand.

“No,” he said.

“...you gonna continue with the sentence or what?” Tendou prodded.

I hate this time of the year. You frowned, burrowing deeper into your muffler as you fought the early morning chill. Several other students were trudging beside you, sleep in their eyes as you all headed to the regular meeting for club time slots. You always showed up as early as possible to get the best dibs for your club.

You absently kicked a pebble in your way, wondering how you should organize practice this week. You wanted to brush up on your form again and—

Why was everyone looking at you like that?

“Good morning.”

It took you a moment to realize a massive shadow had engulfed your own. You stared at your feet for a moment, rubbing your eyes before slowly turning.

Ushijima Wakatoshi bore down on you, face cast in dark shadows from the early morning darkness, puffs of steam clouding by his mouth where he breathed.

He looked like a monster.

You felt your hackles raise, nearly jumping out of your sneakers as you started to backpedal away from him, “Hah?”

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, looking completely unfazed by the crack of dawn and cold.

You continued to hurry backwards toward the gym while barking back at him as Ushijima took calm steps forward—since you were both headed the same way—every three of your steps one of his own.

To anyone else, it looked as though a bear were advancing on a chihuahua.

“G-Good morning to you too!” you snapped. “Bye!”

“What?” Ushijima asked.

“I said bye you—”

“We’re still headed the same way.”

“Stop following me then!”

- - - - - - - -

You smirked, hefting the pile of posters into your arms. This was it, this was going to work for sure. No way anyone could ignore the please join flyers if you were pinning them up all around the school, and the team had worked hard to make it stand out and eye catching, appealing to all genders and interests.

Your wrist was starting to bother you a bit, so you shifted the papers to the other arm. I got careless trying to get the bow turn again. I need to slow it down and ice it tonight.

Who says we’re last on the funding list? You grinned, grabbing your tape. They can’t ignore us with a bunch of members—

“Good afternoon.”

You screeched, dropping your stack of flyers onto your foot. They scattered the hallway.

Ushijima calmly turned his gaze downwards, staring at the colorfully illustrated flyers now flooding both your feet.

Join the kyudo club!

“You,” you snapped, urging your heart to calm and shoving your tape back into your pocket. You hurried, grabbing the flyers and restacking them as he stood, towering above you. “What the heck do you want? Do you get some kind of kick out of scaring people or—”

In one smooth, swift motion, Ushijima had crouched down beside you. You stared, gaping in disbelief as his large hands—he has such big hands, I’ve never seen anyone with hands that big, this guy is all muscle and—moved across the floor, gathering up the papers in one fell swoop. His bangs shifted slightly over the slight furrow of his brows.

Ushijima looked at you, quiet, somber, unreadable as he carefully put your stack back together.

He looked weird in the school uniform. You were so used to seeing him in his volleyball one. He seemed like a different person. Oh, you’re the type that leaves the first button undone.

“I did not mean to scare you,” he said, slow, with that rumbling voice of his. It sent a timbre down your spine.

Ushijima remained silent, staring calmly at you, seemingly content with the silence.

“Y-Yeah, well,” you started. “My bad then.”

You quickly stood, lifting your stack. You stared down at Ushijima for once as he calmly looked up at you and promptly ran off without another word, unable to figure out the weird awkwardness that sat on your tongue whenever you dealt with him.

I mean, it’s not like I really… hate him right?

Why the hell am I running into him so much?

You just needed to shoot some arrows and you’d feel a lot better.

-----------

You shot too many arrows.

You frowned at your throbbing wrist, giving it a look of utter betrayal. The nurse had said to give her a few minutes for her to come back with some pain killers. You were only in the infirmary this time because the pain had gotten to a point where you’d actually dropped your bow in the middle of a draw.

Prelims are coming up. You glared harder at your wrist. You just needed to ice it and you’d feel better. I can’t let them down.

You were taking them straight to the top and then it’d be kyudo posters this school would see, not just stupid Ushijima’s face and—

“(L/n)-san.”

You screeched, nearly toppling off your stool. Your wrist smacked into the counter and you hissed in pain, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

Ushijima stood in the doorway of the infirmary, staring at you with furrowed brows.

Why him, why now? You grunted in greeting, gingerly rubbing your throbbing wrist, turning away from him toward the window.

You heard the door close behind him, focusing all your attention on anything else to ignore the massive presence behind you.

“What happened?”

WHY IS HE TALKING TO ME.

“Oh, this and that,” you said simply, vaguely, struggling to find better words. You… you really didn’t hate this guy personally or anything, but it was personal at the same time? You didn’t know how you felt about him and it was making you confused.

You hated being confused.

Ignoring any and all other social cues, Ushijima took a seat on the stool beside you, back and posture impeccable. His hands calmly set on his knees. His volleyball uniform like second skin against his form, revealing nothing but miles of muscle and hardwork.

You stared at him in disbelief.

Ushijima faced forward, face unreadable.

….okay. You awkwardly glanced to the side, rubbing at your wrist. Way to make it even more awkward. Does this guy not socialize much or what?

“Uh,” no! Don’t talk to him! Just keep your mouth shut! “What happened to you?” you said awkwardly.

Ushijima’s face relaxed an inch. You blinked in surprise.

“My knee,” he said. “Coach made me go get it checked out.”

“...me too,” you said. He looked at you. You looked away. “Not my knee, I mean. My wrist. My vice captain will have my head if I didn’t. I told her I could just ice it.”

“You should be more careful,” Ushijima said.

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“You do not need to apologize.”

You stared.

Ushijima motioned to your wrist, not taking his eyes off your face, “Your fans would be disappointed if you were unable to perform.”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“You do not need to apologize,” Ushijima said again, shaking his head. You gaped at him. “I would be disappointed. I wish to see your kaichu again.”

Your brain short-circuited. You were left to dumbly look at Ushijima. He seemed to take pity on you and turned fully on his stool, several heads taller, looking down at you before he calmly said—

“I am a fan of your archery.”

The two of you sat there in silence.

Steam shot out of your ears as your face exploded into red. Ushijima watched in silence as you toppled over your stool and back onto the ground.

- i also stan one giant tree

#haikyuu reader insert #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ko fi requests #haikyuu

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 14)

Fair warning, this chapter is going to be much heavier. And it will include death and blood. Nothing graphic but some sensitive themes including the deaths of children. If this isn’t something you’re comfortable with you might want to skip the flashback part or the chapter as a whole.

Azula leans over the rails of the bridge. The deep summer air blows through her locks. They have grown long again. She supposes that she has regained enough dignity to not warrant cutting it once more.

She takes a deep breath. She is going to tell him today. She is going to tell him everything. She thinks that it is quite long overdue. Especially now, she smooths her hands over the stretched fabric of her shirt. The world around her smells of moss and pine. It smells fresh and new.

Her feet thud against the wooden planks of the bridge as she crosses it. Hajime...her house isn’t so far from the woodland but her feet are already plenty sore from having stood on them for so long. By the time she reaches her porch they are throbbing rather incessantly.

“Mom!” Atsu shouts and throws himself at her legs. She braces herself against the doorframe as Hajime calls for him to slow down and be careful. Atsu never had known how to slow down. He is practically bouncing up and down as he pulls on her arm, “look what I made! Look at it! Look at it!” He gives her several more tugs and leads her to the nursery. It isn’t quite ready yet; the crib has been assembled and filled with many cozy, handmade blankets and pillows and a few toys rest at the foot of it, ready to be played with. They have yet to build a changing table and there are several stuffed animals that she would like to have sewn.

“Look!” Atsu grins. “I made posters for him!”

She has long since given up on trying to tell him to not get attached to the idea of having a brother when he very well could have a sister instead.

He holds up his first painting, “this is a tigerdillo and this one’s me, you, and dad...and this one is Bao fighting Fire Lord Bonsai and…”

Azula quirks a brow. “You’ve been working hard.”

“He’s making his sibling an art gallery.” Hajime laughs.

“I can see that.” She replies. She picks up one of the paintings. “Where do you want to hang this one?”

“The ceiling!” Atsu declares.

“Alright, if you can get it up there, you can hang it from the ceiling.”

Atsu blinks. “No, mom, you put it up there!” He flashes her a wide grin.

“Your mom needs to take it easy, Atsu.”

“I can handle a simple task like that just fine.”

“I know that you can, but it wouldn’t kill you to just relax, would it?”

If boredom could induce death, she is sure that it would kill her. She puts her hands on her hips and gives a slight pout. She supposes that her back is rather sore and she had just taken quite a decent walk…

Hajime comes to stand behind her and rest his chin on her shoulder. He takes her hand and guides it over the bump. It still leaves her feeling slightly perturbed to feel the baby kick against her touch. It is a reminder that it is all real. That she isn’t making it all up.

On some days, the rougher days feeling that little kick is what makes her feel real. Though daunting and frightening in its own right, it is grounding. It is a constant when Hajime isn’t around to help her.

But on her worst days, the kicking only adds to the unrest and disconnect in her mind. It takes her to a place where her body is not her own, where someone else pulls the strings and she is only a husk…

Today is a pleasant day. Today she feels a sense of security in the little kicks. At the very least, she is growing used to them. Hajime kisses her neck while she watches Atsu attempt to walk up the wall. He takes a running start, manages to take perhaps two or three admirable steps up the wall before falling on his rear with a loud, “owie!”

“Okay, wall!” He declares, pointing a finger at it. “Get ready to get climbed!” He very confidently stomps back up to it and tries a second time. And a third before Hajime finally remarks, “alright, how about we try hanging your pictures somewhere else?”

While the man goes to help their son, she makes her way into their bedroom and lies down. She takes off her shoes and lowers herself upon the mattress. She rests her hand atop her belly and absently rubs her hand over the bump. She isn’t sure how to or when she should begin telling him who she is. She just knows that it has to be done tonight, before she loses her mustered courage.

.oOo.

She watches Atsu and Caihong teeter after a glowing plume of fireflies. The critters are all over the place tonight, gathering in swamps. It must be the height of their mating season. And how the trees sparkle with them. She has seen the bugs in the Fire Nation but the cicadas usually outnumber them and she has never had the pleasure of watching them tuck themselves into such thick canopies.

“So, how are things coming along?” Seukhyun asks.

Azula drums her fingers against her belly, “as smoothly as they can be I suppose.” Though she can certainly do without the aches and pains and the occasional need to update her wardrobe.

“Good to hear.” He replies. “Ojihara misses having your help with the planting and harvesting. It certainly isn’t as fun for me without being able to compete with you.”

She gives the thought a lazy little hand wave, “you can certainly stop by any time and beg for my help. Of course, when I say yes you will have to provide me with plenty of refreshments.”

“I think that Ojihara and I can work something out.”

“Wonderful.” She claps her hands together. “The baby is partial to pineapple juice.”

“The baby or Rikka?” Seukhyun quirks a brow.

It is the both of them really. Hajime wanders up the porch steps. “I think that I’ve caught enough fireflies to light up our whole bedroom for the night. And that’s without Atsu’s contribution.”

“How many did Cai catch?” Seukhyun asks.

“Way too many. In fact she told me to go get you so that she can show you.”

Seukhyun rises and stretches his arms. “I’ll talk with Ojihara tonight and see if we can get you some light duty work and some pineapple juice.”

Azula gives him a thumbs up.

“You’re trying to go back to work?”

Azula shrugs. “It isn’t too hard to pluck a few turnips.”

“Under the scorching sun?”

“I’m a firebender and so is the baby.” She declares, pridefully turning her chin up and gesturing to her tummy. “I can feel it.”

Hajime laughs. “If you say so. But don’t be upset when our baby grows up and starts throwing rocks.”

“I won’t. It’s a fire baby. Only a fire baby would be this intense.” And intense things have been. Her cravings are quite ravenous and her spells of nausea can be rather overwhelming. She has only complained of them as often as she can. Only a fire baby can be so extreme.

She waits for Hajime to fill Seukhyun’s empty chair. She waits a little longer after that, watches the fireflies drift care-free and enchantingly. At least she speaks, “I have something to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

She clears her throat. “First, tell me that you will hear me out entirely.”

“I can do that.”

“No interruptions. No questions until I am finished.” Her stomach grows jittery, doubly so with the baby squirming about.

“No interruptions or questions, Rikka.”

She takes a deep breath. “Not Rikka.” She pauses. Another deep breath. “My name isn’t Rikka.”

He smile softly and gives her a nod of understanding. He waits so very patiently for her to continue. She supposes that, that in itself makes a difference. He interlocks his hand with hers.

She opens her mouth but the silence is stolen by a sharp cry from Caihong and a loud curse from Seukhyun. Atsu cries out too. Hajime grips her hand tighter and stands up. She with him. “Rikka, sit down.” He knows very well that she has no plans to do anything of the sort.

She sees it on the treeline, a small and efficient blaze. “I’m good with fire, Hajime. You need me.”

“I need you and the baby to be safe.”

“We will be.” She replies rather flippantly. She can’t run as fast as she had some six months ago and her balance isn’t so enviable. But she can still out pace Hajime.

Seukhyun carries both of the children, his face red and horrified. “They’re burning and razing the village.”

Azula’s stomach drops.

“Why would the Fire Nation…?” Hajime starts.

She shakes her head. “This isn’t a Fire Nation attack. There would be a lot more fire than this.”

“It’s them, Hajime.” Seukhyun huffs. “They’re back.”

“Who?”

“The Gemsbok Bulls.” He shouts over a wailing Caihong.

“Who are they?”

“They’re the army faction responsible for the last massacre.” Hajime answers grimly.

“I reckon they want vengeance.”

Hajime throws the door open. They are inside already. “Shit.” Seukhyun hisses. He backs out of the doorway. She sees the arrow pierce his head, a shot so skilled, so mighty that it goes in through one ear and nearly out the other. He pitches over, Caihong and Atsu topple with him.

“Daddy!” Caihong screeches.

Azula yanks her back, she and Atsu both. Her stomach cramps and she winces. She turns and kicks a ring of fire at the men who are already inside of her home. She doesn’t think that Hajime has taken notice of her attack. She doesn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it, the dull ache becomes quite intense, involuntary tears prickle behind her eyes.

The men duck and Hajime lurches forward, landing a sturdy punch to the man’s ribs. It is enough to rattle his armor and knock him off of his feet. His combatant catches Hajime by the jaw. Azula tosses her best fireball at the man. He staggers back as an arrow whizzes past her head.

Decidedly, the archer is the deadliest foe.

She has to take the archer out.

“Hold them off, Hajime.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just hold them off.” She throws herself outside and throws up a wall of fire. The arrow turns to ash before it can reach her. She waits for another to fly. If she can take the archer down then she can get Atsu and Caihong out of this. She catches a flash in the treeline. She throws up another line of fire and readies her lightning. The arrow disintegrates, her fire falls, and her lightning discharges. The sound of the woman’s body dropping is lost beneath a crack of thunder.

“Atsu! Caihong! Get out here!”

She gets answer from neither and her anxious queasiness swells. She lurches back inside, Agni she is so tired. The ache in her belly is growing to be quite searing. The baby’s kicking is insufferable. She grits her teeth and presses a heated hand to her tummy, it does nothing to soothe the babe this time.

“Mama!” Atsu shouts.

Hajime is on the ground, arm pinned beneath a boulder, nose bleeding.

“Ya got’a new wife?” Speaks the largest of the soldiers. His eyes--one blind and one a vivid green--flicker from she to Hajime.

“I won’t let you take her from me too.” He winces.

The soldier gives a bellowing laugh before another boulder crashes through their wall and drops onto his other hand. Atsu shrieks again. She can’t find Caihong. “And how are you going to stop me from under there? You can’t help her.”

“I can help myself just fine.” She promises. She takes down the men behind her first. Normally she would reach back and launch them over her shoulders but the bump is in the way. Instead she raises her arms and lets two bursts of fire rise from her palms. The men stumble back.

The soldier throws Atsu to the side, the boy lands with a thump and a whimper. She knows now that she will have the man dead. He throws himself at her, she lets him lumber forward before taking a quick step out of the way. She takes a sturdy stane and catches him by the arm. She hears his shoulder pop and she pulls him back towards her.

The other two soldiers rise. And now she is torn between fending for herself and keeping them away from Atsu and Hajime. Her first fire whip, buckles the man reaching for Atsu. Her second strikes the half-blind soldier. His blade grazes across her neck as he falls back.

Her heart races as a slowly flowing curtain of blood trickles down her neck and to her chest. She slams another fireball into him for good measure. Her baby gives another violent kick, she wills the poor thing to hang in there. She is almost finished.

The third soldier, a woman, she notices, has made it to Hajime. She shoves the half-blind soldier aside and charges the woman. She dodges a wall of rock, blasts it away. She knows that Hajime has seen this time, and how could he not have?

That rush of blue fire is the last thing he sees before the soldier scowls and brings a larger rock down to crush his throat. And Azula hopes, at the very least, that he got to know--even if for only an instant--the real her. She dreads that his last thoughts were ones of hatred and regret over having slept with the Fire Nation’s very worst.

Atsu’s piercing cries barely register as the light leaves Hajime’s eyes. His final exhale whistles through her like a spirit. She doesn’t scream neither does she cry. She isn’t given the decency. Several more soldiers pour into the house. They seize her, pin her hands behind her back and the half blind soldier steps forward. He holds a blade to the top of her belly. Drags the cool metal down it, cutting a hole through her shirt as it goes. And when he reaches the bottom of her bump he takes pause. “I was hoping to to open you up in front of him...for old time’s sake. But…” He gestures to Hajime’s lifeless body. “You’ve deprived me of the pleasure. You and her both.”

The Earth Kingdom woman has just enough time to process his words. Just enough time to let her eyes go wide. She is dead as soon as the boulder bashes her into the one she’d killed Hajime with.

His attention comes back to her, the blade bites deeper into her stomach and he swipes it horizontally. The tears come forward with a second rush of blood. And with her tears and blood comes another rush.

She screams. Her shout comes out as fire. The man stumbles back, clutching his face. She can see the blood seeping through his fingers. She hopes that he is suffering greatly. He must be. Only pure pain can induce the rage that drives a man to growl and growls give the belly of a pregnant woman a good kick.

She doesn’t remember what happened after that. She only remembers agony to a degree that she has never felt before or since. It comes from her body, from the baby’s body, and from her mind.

That night she learns what it is to die.

.oOo.

Sokka’s mouth runs dry. His eyes drift from the badgermole to the scar on her neck and then the partially exposed scar on her belly. He takes her hand and squeezes it as he fumbles for something to say. Anything at all.

Yet nothing sounds right in his mind. Because it isn’t okay and it won’t be. Some things just aren’t okay. He considers that a good majority of the things that have happened in her life will never be okay. Why else would she have run from those things, those places.

He swallows. “I’m glad that you’re here now.” He tries.

She grits her teeth and wipes at her eyes.

“I’m glad that you’re here and not wandering out there alone somewhere.”

She draws a shaky breath as he recalls her mention of a long trip home. A long, lonely trip home. He recalls her joyful smile that night at the theater. That enthusiastic twinkle in her eyes. He wonders how many times Hajime got to see that.

And he wonders how she has managed to hide all of that hurt. How it had even been possible to bury it out of sight. How, up until now, she has been so composed. How she is still able to smile at all.

She is resilient.

He wishes that she wouldn’t have to be.

He isn’t sure if he should but hugs her tightly. If she hates it she can always shove him away. She doesn’t. In fact, she presses her face against his chest and bunches her hands in the folds of his clothes. He squeezes her. He can’t take the pain away, but he can try.

She still sobs so openly.

The sort of gut-wrenchingly hunting cries that only true loss can bring.

“Sokka, what’s going on.” Zuko’s face is grim. Concerned. “She’s not…” he trails off. “Is she?”

“It’s a long story, Zuko.”

“I have time.”

“I should let Azula tell you herself.” He rubs small circles on her back.

.oOo.

Zuko has tea and a hot meal waiting for her but she hasn’t the appetite for even a single bite. She stares at her palms. She feels rather numb. She thinks that she would rather feel numb. It is better than feeling grief.

“I was going to name it Juro.” She whispers more to herself, vacantly she trails her pointer along the scar. She feels herself slumping over again. Zuko catches her and holds her upright.

“What are you talking about, Azula?”

She shakes her head. She was going to do a lot of things. She was going to tell Hajime her name. She was going to tell Ojihara and Seukhyun. She was going to be Azula again. She was going to teach Juro to firebend. She was going to teach him about Fire Nation culture. She was going to breakup squabbles when Juro tried to snatch Bao from Atsu. She was going to bring them all to see the palace one day. She was going to make a life where they could vacation to Ember Island and return to Wujing after.

She was going to be happy.

She was going to heal.

She is furious and tormented.

She is more wounded than before.

“At least have a sip.” Zuko tries gently. She absently picks up the teacup and gives it a small sip.

She squeezes her eyes shut and swallows down an unreleased sob. The tears still leak out. Sokka cups his hand over hers.

“What happened, Azula?” Zuko asks again.

She rises, she isn’t quite steady but she makes it to her nightstand. She rummages through it and pulls out her journal. She drops it into his lap and drops herself back onto the mattress.

It is much easier to just let him read it. She isn’t up for speaking of it a second time. She rolls onto her side and bunches herself up, nauseous with stress and mourning. It settles quite heavily that she hasn’t processed it. Not truly.

Zuko tucks himself into the corner and begins reading.

“I don’t know if this will help at all.” Sokka starts. “But I lost someone too.”

“Suki?”

Sokka shakes his head. “No, not Suki. Suki’s still around, she just decided to focus on Kyoshi Warrior stuff instead of a relationship. I lost someone named Yue.”

Azula is quiet for a very long time, trying to figure out why he is trying to make this about him. Empathy, she remembers. He is being empathetic. She supposes that there isn’t much else he can say anyways. But that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I promise that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

And she supposes that, that means something.

It means almost everything.

She promised herself on that day in the plains, that she wouldn’t let herself wander through everything on her own.

It means absolutely everything.

He was the first person to make her feel truly alive in a very long time.

She rolls over to face him and reaches for whatever is steaming on the plate. She sits up as Sokka hands it to her. She should take care of herself. She likes to think that she is solidly past the catatonic stage.

“I know.” She finally says.

She has waited too long to reply, “Huh?”

“I know that I’m...not alone.” She clarifies. And she thinks that, that very well might be the only reason that she is willing to sit up and eat. She thinks of her first night home, of the well wishes she had been given and of the warm welcome back. She thinks of awkward game nights with Mai and TyLee. She thinks of sparring sessions with Zuko. Mostly she thinks of story swapping with Sokka and a very humiliating and liberating night at a theater.

She thinks of life.

Of the things that she is still going to do.

Even if she can’t bring herself to do those things now.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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justablogfullofrandomrandomness · 3 years

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Okay, over the past couple of days I've been writing something. It's the Avatar episode The Blue Spirit told from Zuko's perspective. Hope you enjoy, I worked pretty hard on it.

I had many..... What some may call.... Misadventures while searching for the Avatar. Some that people know about, others that are a close kept secret. Especially that one day. But, I'm not above admitting I do think about it a lot. I'm still confused by it. But, it's not like I can ask anyone about it. No one knows, and I'm not going to tell anyone about it, ever. However, the Avatar knows, and if he knows there's no question whether or not his friends know too. But it's not like I can go talk to them, we're enemies. Nothing will change that, not even this. Let me start from the beginning. Not the 'beginning' beginning, the beginning of this story. It started at the Pohuai Stronghold, one of the most secure bunkers the Fire Nation had. Nearly impossible to break into, but I didn't need in. I just needed on the tower. The black hood and the blue mask I wore were a precaution, in case I was seen, which I wasn't planning on happening. But if I was, no one would know it was me. And my Uncle says I don't think things through. I think them through enough! I climbed up the wall in time to hear the conversation between Zhao and Colonel Shinu.

"Absolutely not." Shinu was saying, clearly furious. "The Yuyan Archers stay here. Your request is denied, Commander Zhao."

"Colonel Shinu, please reconsider. Their precision is legendary. The Yuyan can pin a fly to a tree from one hundred yards away without killing it." I looked down to where the Yuyan were practicing their marksmanship. They clearly lived up to the legend. "You're wasting their talents using them as mere security guards." Zhao continued. I hated that guy so much.

"I can do whatever I want with their talents. They're my archers, and what I say goes." Shinu snapped. Zhao scowled at him.

"But my search for the Avatar is-"

"Is nothing but a vanity project. We're fighting a real war here, and I need every man I've got, Commander."

"But-" Shinu cut him off again.

"That's final! I don't want to hear another word about it." Zhao glared at him, but before either could do anything else, a bird screeched. We all glanced towards it as the Messenger Hawk flew to the tower.

"News from Fire Lord Ozai?" I heard Zhao asked. There was the sound of paper rustling. "It appears I've been promoted to Admiral." Zhao remarked, no doubt with a smug smirk painted across his face. "My request is now an order." Zhao walked out to the balcony and looked down at the Yuyan Archers. His archers now. I scowled from behind my mask. The last thing Zhao needed was more power. He was big enough of a problem as a Commander. I climbed down the tower, deciding it was time to leave.

The next day I was back on my ship, in the navigation room. Lieutenant Jee and I were hovering over a map as my Uncle played Pai Sho with some other crewmates in the corner. It was weird, ever since the storm, everyone, especially Jee, had been treating me different. More tolerant. I know Uncle said something to them, but what exactly he said, I wasn't sure. It didn't matter, though. At least they all weren't at my throat anymore.

"We haven't been able to pick up the Avatar's trail since the storm," Jee was saying. He pointed to the map. "But if we continue heading Northeast-" He cut himself off when a large shadow passed the window. It was another Fire Navy ship, and one of the bigger ones.

"What do they want?" I questioned.

"Perhaps a sporting game of Pai Sho." Uncle spoke up, rubbing his hands together. When the soldiers boarded the ship and entered the navigation room, they held out a scroll for us to see. It was a wanted poster for the Avatar.

"The hunt for the Avatar has been given prime importance. All information regarding the Avatar must be reported directly to Admiral Zhao."

"Zhao has been promoted?" My uncle asked, his finger resting on a game piece as he considered his move. "Well, good for him." He finished, pushing it across the board with a smile. The two crewmates he was playing against groaned. I looked away from the soldiers.

"I've got nothing to report to Zhao. Now get off my ship and let us pass."

"Admiral Zhao is not allowing ships in or out of this area." The soldier said. I scowled.

"OFF MY SHIP!" I shouted, filled with rage. Uncle didn't seem to be paying much attention to what had just happened. He was focused on his game.

"Excellent, I take the pot." He pulled the money towards him. "But you're all improving. I'm certain you will win if we play again." I turned away from the others, looking out the window. I went up to the deck and started running myself through Firebending moves furiously, needing to blow off some steam. I knew Zhao's promotion was going to give me issues, but I had no idea it would quite literally halt my search. I didn't know what to do. I kicked one last blast of fire, exhausted, breathing heavily.

"Is everything okay?" I heard my uncle ask from behind me. "It's been almost an hour and you haven't given the men an order."

"I don't care what they do." I snapped.

"Don't give up hope yet. You can still find the Avatar before Zhao." I turned around, looking at him desperately.

"How, Uncle? With Zhao's resources, it's just a matter of time before he captures the Avatar." I turned away and moved to the side of the ship, looking out at the water. "My honor, my throne, my country, I'm about to lose them all." In the two and a half years I had been searching, it had never felt more impossible. I screwed my eyes shut, driving my fists into the metal rim of the ship. "No, I can't lose them. I will not. I refuse to let Zhao win." I pushed off the side and walked off.

"Where are you going?" Uncle asked me as I passed him.

"To figure out a way around Zhao's restrictions. I'll be back." I went to my quarters and looked at the swords on my wall for a moment before taking them down and forcing them into a scabbard. I went to my table and pulled out the blue mask, looking down at it's wide grin. Whatever was going to happen, it would be for the best. It was what needed to be done. I left alone. I didn't need any help from anyone else. They would only slow me down.

When I arrived near the closest village, I quickly changed into a black outfit with gloves and a hood, only touch of color was the blue mask. I listened carefully, hoping Jee was right about his predictions. That's when I overheard some guards walking down the dark street by the alleyway I had crouched in.

"The Yuyan Archers didn't even have to try, I heard they took him down in an instant."

"Guess all that talk about how strong he is was just a bunch of Firelord propaganda after all. Did they kill him?"

"Don't you know anything about the Avatar? If they kill him, he'll just be reincarnated and then they'll have to start their search all over again! No, they're keeping him at the Pohuai Stronghold until they can safely transport him or something. Either that or they'll just keep him there, which seems like the best option considering his reputation." My eyes widened and my breathing hitched as the guards conversation faded from my earshot. Of course they took him to the Pohuai Stronghold, because when was anything in my life easy? I sighed. It's okay, it was all under control. I just had to get to the stronghold and hopefully by then I would have thought of a plan..... Maybe now that I think about it, Uncle had a point about me not thinking things through. Don't tell him I said that.

A few hours later, I watched from the bushes, studying the area before me. It's like I said earlier, the Pohuai Stronghold was one of the most secure fortresses the Fire Nation had, and no doubt the Yuyan Archers would be there, guarding their prize. Sneaking onto a tower to eavesdrop on a conversation is one thing, but actually getting in? That would be difficult. Then I got an idea. There was a road nearby. If I timed it just right, I would have a chance. I waited in silence, mask hiding my face, it would be better if no one knew it was me. Especially the Avatar. After what felt like ages of waiting, I heard it. A supply cart. I waited for the opportune moment before quickly rolling under the cart, grabbing onto the bottom and holding on tight. It stopped at the gate, and a guard checked the back, looking to see if the supplier was trying to sneak anything in. I held my breath as I watched the feet on the other side of the cart, quickly slipping out the other side and climbing into the back behind a crate as the guard checked underneath.

"All clear. Go on in." The guard said. The cart started to move again. I was in. When the cart stopped to be unloaded, I slipped out, sneaking past the guards and running into a nearby stairwell. I could hear Zhao, giving his speech of victory.

"Until today, only one thing stood in our path to victory. The Avatar! I am here to tell you that he is now my prisoner!" Zhao shouted, his voice triumphant. Cheers roared from the crowd. I was crouched as I snuck across the wall, doing my best to ignore Zhao. I had to stay focused. I dropped a rope down the side of the wall and slid down, quickly ducking into a sewer grate. So what if I got a little wet? I effortlessly squeezed through the bars, more cheers roaring from the guards Zhao was entertaining with his gloating. I knew even then his hunger for power would be the death of him one day. I managed to get into the hallways without a hitch. Well, except for that one guard that I stumbled upon. Knocked him out and took his helmet, deciding I could use it. When I reached the corridor I knew they were keeping Aang in, I threw the helmet down. The metal clanked as it hit the floor, rolling to a stop at the guards feet. I heard footsteps of an approaching guard and when he rounded the corner, I took him out, gagging his mouth and hanging him from the ceiling by his arms with a chain. A few seconds later, two other guards turned to corner and stared at the first guard. They didn't even notice me up in the ceiling above them. Too bad for them. The fourth and final guard hadn't left the door. He knew something was wrong and reached for the horn on the wall to alert other guards. I ran down the hall and threw a knife, knocking the horn out of his hand. He saw me coming at him and instinctively shot a blast of fire at me, which I counteracted by throwing a bucket of water at him, and sweeping his feet out from underneath him. I hit him over the head with the bucket, just to be sure. Then I knelt down and pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and looking at the boy who had caused me so much trouble. The Avatar was chained, defenseless. Everything I had wanted the past two years, served up to me on a silver platter. I drew my swords and his eyes widened with terror. Undoubtedly, I looked like some kind of demon. But I didn't care. I ran at him with my swords and he screamed, screwing his eyes shut and looking away. He opened his eyes when he felt the swords cut the chains. He looked up at me in shock. I realized in that moment he really had no idea who I was. I stepped closed to him and broke the metal cuffs off his wrists and then did the same with his legs, sheathing one of my swords.

"Who are you?" The Avatar asked. "What's going on?! Are you here to rescue me?" I opened the door and gestured for him to follow me, ignoring his questions.

"I'll take that as a yes." The boy remarked, following me down the hall. I got a bit a head of him when I heard him gasp.

"My frogs!" He shouted. "Come back! And stop thawing out!" I took a deep breath and went back for him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him away from the half frozen frogs he was trying to stuff into his pockets. "WAIT! MY FRIENDS NEED TO SUCK ON THOSE FROGS!!!!" I had no idea WHY he said that, or what he meant by it, but I really didn't want to know. I lead him through the halls, back the way I came, and straight to the sewers. I could see the silhouettes of guards moving overhead and I gestured for the kid to press against the wall so we wouldn't be seen. He was worried, I could see it in his eyes, but I made no move to comfort him. Instead, I left my head through the grate, peering around. Once I decided the coast was clear I gestured for him to follow me up and I climbed out. The Avatar followed after me, having to jump up to grab the bars as he was much shorter than me. I lead him back to where I had climbed down on the rope and he started climbing up the wall, me following short after. We were halfway up the wall when a loud bell rang out. We'd been made.

"There! On the wall!" A guard shouted. Another guard ran up on the top of the tower and cut the rope and we both fell back towards the ground. The Avatar sent a blast of air beneath us, cushioning our fall so we didn't break anything on impact with the ground. Smart kid. We'd need that quick thinking if we were going to get out of here alive. I drew my swords, ready to defend myself. I pointed towards the open gate and I bolted for it, the kid right behind me. Guards ran at us from all different directions as Zhao shouted orders from above.

"Stay close to me." The Avatar said, running in front of me, sending a huge gust of wind at the guards who blocked our path. He got a little bit ahead of me and two guards ran at me at once with their spears. I stopped to fight them off, the kid not seeming to notice. More and more guards came and pretty soon I was surrounded, but I wasn't giving up. I had so much more to fight for. If I gave up here there would be no more hope. I felt a large rush of air and suddenly all the guards had been swooped away. The kid had come back for me. He was holding a spear with the sharp bit broken off. A makeshift staff. He looked at me for a moment before he waved his staff at me, sending my flying through the air, landing on top of the wall. I quickly got to me feet, ready to fight off the guards that were coming at me when the Avatar flew up to me himself, spinning the staff over his head to keep himself airborne. He grabbed me by wrapping his legs around my chest and we took off into the sky again. He struggled to keep in the air with my added weight, every once and a while dropping a few feet, during which I decided I wasn't a fan of flying. Spears flew at us from the ground and I focused on kicking them away before they pierced us, which only made us descend faster. We crashed on the middle wall hard, and I dropped my swords on impact. Only one more wall to clear and we were free. Well, I would be free. I pushed myself up on my elbows, my chest and stomach aching from hitting the stone so hard. The Avatar quickly got up, trying to grab his staff, but a guard kicked it off the ledge and started swiping at him with his sword. I got to my feet myself and grabbed the guard, throwing him off the wall. I quickly grabbed my swords again and we stood back to back. I ran at a couple of guards and the kid sent blasts of air at the ones coming at him. And then he took out the ones I was facing. But we didn't have much time to breath. Guards from below were propping bamboo ladders against the wall and were using them to scale it. The Avatar took multiple guards out at once, clearing off two of the ladders while I struggled on the one. There was only so little I could do with my swords compared to giant blasts of wind. But right now I wasn't the Fire Prince. I was a vigilante. As I knocked the final guard off the ladder, the Avatar handed me the two other ladders.

"Take this!" I looked down at the ladders in confusion as the kid jumped on the third ladder and it started to fall down. "Jump on my back!" He exclaimed. I quickly did as I was told, still holding onto the ladders. He took one of them from me and aimed it down so that when the other one fell, it stood up straight. I realized what he was doing. He was trying to propel us over the wall. "Give me the next one!" I handed him the next one and he did the same. The guards below seemed to see what we were doing and one set the ladder on fire, forcing the Avatar to jump off earlier than what would have been ideal. We both tried to grab onto the ledge, but neither of our grips were strong enough and we fell down the side of the wall only to be surrounded by Zhao's men. I drew my swords again, ready to fight. All at once, they fired their blasts at us, the Avatar quickly moving in front of me to block the blow with a blast of air.

"Hold your fire!" Zhao shouted, causing all the soldiers to stand down. "The Avatar must be captured alive!" In that instant I knew what I had to do. I grabbed the Avatar and held my blades against his neck threateningly. He tensed, but made no move to escape, knowing what I was doing. Zhao seemed to know too. We made eye contact for an intense moment before he spoke again. "Open the gate." He glowered, not breaking my stare.

"Admiral, what are you doing?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Let them out, now." The gates creaked open behind us and I slowly backed out, glancing behind me ever so often to make sure I wasn't going to back right into a tree. Now that would be humiliating. I didn't know how far I had to go, or what I was going to do after we escaped, only that I had to put as much distance between me and that stronghold as possible. I glanced behind me and looked up again just in time to see something flying towards my face. It hit my mask, knocking me back. I fell to the ground, and everything went black.

When I came too, I was staring right up at the roof of a forest. The sunlight pouring in through the leaves told me I'd been out for a long time. I groaned, glancing around, my vision a little blurry. To my surprise, the Avatar was sitting right beside me, on a tree root, his knees drawn tight to his chest. He didn't even look at me before he started to speak.

"You know what the worst part about being born over a hundred years ago is? I miss all the friends I used to hang out with. Before the war started, i used to always visit my friend Kuzon. The two of us, we'd get in and out of so much trouble together." He smiled, remembering the happy memories of his past. "He was one of the best friends I ever had. And he was from the Fire Nation, just like you." He finally turned to look at me. "If we knew each other back then, do you think we could've been friends too?" I didn't hesitate. I jumped up and sent a blast of fire at him, hoping to catch him off guard. The Avatar flew into the air, clearly expecting it, and disappeared through the trees. I looked after him for a moment before kneeling down to pick up my mask. That's when I saw he'd made a bed for me out of leaves. I shook my head. I would never understand that kid. When I arrived back on the ship, my Uncle was on the deck, playing his Tsungi Horn beside that horrible antique monkey that he bought from the pirates.

"Where have you been, Prince Zuko?" He asked as I walked past him. "You missed music night! Lieutenant Jee sang a stirring love song." I didn't turn around as I walked down the hallway, in no mood to deal with his antics.

"I'm going to bed. No disturbances." I said quietly, bringing a hand to my head, which was still throbbing from whatever knocked me out. I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through my mind. He knew who I was. He knew it was me, and yet he still saved my life. But why? Why didn't he just leave me there for Zhao? His life would've been so much easier. He had to have known. So why didn't he let me die? I glanced to my side, looking at the Fire Nation insignia on the wall. Was I wrong? Hunting him? I shook my head, rolling over on my other side. No, it was my destiny. I had to capture the Avatar. It was the only way for me to return home. For things to return to normal. I pushed the seed of doubt to the back of my mind, not wanting to think about it, and I closed my eyes.

No matter how long I think about it, I never could figure out why he didn't leave me there. He's saved my life twice by this point, once at the stronghold and once at the North Pole. Sometimes I wish I could ask him why, or more specifically how does he find it in his heart to show people like me mercy. But I can't. No matter what, we will always be enemies until the day we die. But.... Maybe, just maybe he was right. Maybe we could've been friends, if things were different. But they aren't. It'd like I said, we're enemies. The Fire Prince and the Avatar. But.... No. I shouldn't even be thinking about it. I have to capture him. It's the only way for me to restore my honor. For my father not to think I'm worthless, and I am not worthless. I'll show them. One day.

#avatar the last airbender #the Blue Spirit #Zuko #aang #iroh #zhao #yuyan archers #writing project

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alifeincoffeespoons · 4 years

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part ix of the avatar au: the red spirit

Lily’s sick, and saying that James is panicked would be an understatement.

He barely knows how it happened. One day she was fine, and then they walked ten miles during a thunderstorm, and then she was sick.

Okay, it actually does make sense, if you look at it that way.

“Cute,” she giggles, poking his cheek, and James gulps. If she’s calling him cute, something is definitely wrong. “Handsome.”

Okay, yep, she’s delirious.

He paces around the cave they’re staying in. Lily’s wearing her warmest cloak and is tucked into her sleeping bag, a blanket on top as well, but she still seems to be shivering, and her forehead is burning. He needs food and medicine, more than anything else.

Wormtail bounces up to him, and he pats the flying lemur on his head. “Wormy, do you think you could get some food for us? Something cold, preferably, to help Lily.” He tries to gesture with his hands, and Wormy nods—well, as best as a flying lemur can nod, anyway. James grins. “Good Wormy.”

He spends the next hour worrying over Lily, pressing a cold compress soaked with water to her forehead. He can’t risk taking her to a doctor in town, especially now that the Fire Nation definitely knows what he and Lily look like. They’d just as likely be arrested as helped.

It doesn’t get any better when Wormtail finally returns. Instead of food, he’s brought back what looks to be an expensive wristwatch. It’ll be helpful when they can sell it, but right now, it’s about as useful as a rock.

Actually, even a rock would probably be more useful.

Then, suddenly, it comes to him. He recognizes the mountain in the distance—at the last town they docked in, one old woman had told him about a healer who lived in the green mountains. That mountain looks pretty green to him.

“I’ll come back soon, Lily,” he whispers. Lily mumbles incoherently, turning over in her sleep, and James smiles at her softly. “Don’t worry.”

He bounds out of the cave, running as fast as he can. If he conjures up a dust cyclone to bring him to the top of the mountain faster, well, no one saw him, right? It’ll be fine.

Finally, he reaches the top of the mountain, panting. He rushes inside the building to find an old woman with long white hair, walking slowly as she waters plants.

“Hi,” he breaths. “My friend is super sick—like, really, really sick—and I need medicine for her. I think she has a fever, and she’s coughing too. Do you have any—”

“Shh,” the woman whispers. “Let yourself connect with the elements, and all will be revealed.”

“Okay, I’m the Avatar. I’m the most connected with the elements. Anyway! Do you have any advice for my sick friend? Please?”

“Frogs,” the woman says sagely. “She will suck on frozen wood frogs, for only then can she be well. You may find them in the swamp at the base of this mountain. But take care that the frogs don’t thaw, because then they’ll be useless. Useless!”

James looks at the woman dubiously. She smiles. Her mouth definitely has too many teeth. “Okay?” And then, studying her face, “Oh man, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing.”

The woman just smiles back, and James groans. The problem is, he doesn’t actually have any other ideas besides having Lily suck on frozen frogs, as unpleasant and frankly disturbing as that idea is. “Right. Frozen frogs it is.”

He grumbles as he wades through the swamp, which is definitely unsanitary and probably the spawn point for multiple infectious diseases. Finally, he sees a frog, and he traps it in a circle of earth quickly, smiling. He tucks the frog into his pocket. For good measure, he scoops another one up too, and breathes a sigh of relief at his good fortune. Now, he can go back to Lily, and she’ll be fine, and—

And he’s been pinned to a tree by archers. Wonderful.

Surprisingly, being hung from chains on all fours isn’t as uncomfortable as it could be. It would almost be kind of fun, if he wasn’t in a life-and-death situation and being held captive by Admiral Malfoy. Again. He really needs to get better at evasion tactics. Briefly, he wonders if there’s a way he could just turn invisible. That would solve a good 50% of his problems.

And now Malfoy’s monologuing. Again.

“You see, Avatar—”

“Okay, like I’ve told you five times already, my name is James.”

“You see, Avatar, you seem to be under the impression that I’m here to kill you. No, no.” Here, Malfoy laughs, and James wonders why his life is just so uniquely terrible. “No, Avatar, I’m going to keep you alive. If you die, things will only get even more complicated. I can’t afford to let the Avatar cycle continue, after all. No, I’ll bring you to the brink of death, so much that you wish you could be dead, but you’ll be alive. Always alive, at the end.”

“Wow, you’re so very kind,” James simpers.

Malfoy sneers at him. “No one is coming to help you, Avatar. No one can penetrate the walls of this fortress. Not even your little waterbender girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Wait, why did he say that? He’d love for Lily to be his girlfriend. “I mean—”

Malfoy laughs cruelly again. He strides out of the room, shutting the door behind him harshly.

James looks around the dimly lit room. There’s no earth to be found, but there is air. If he could just get out of these cuffs, maybe he would have a chance. And then he feels the frogs start to wriggle in the pocket of his robes, and he groans again. Just wonderful.

He struggles against the cuffs again, wincing as they bruise his skin. Then, suddenly, he hears a commotion from outside the room, and he cranes his neck to hear.

It’s unmistakably a fight—he can hear the clashing of swords and the shouts of soldiers. Maybe Malfoy’s army has finally mutinied. He’d deserve it.

Then, he hears the turning of the lock to the door, and he swallows hard. He prays that it’s not Malfoy again.

Slowly, the door opens, revealing a figure wearing a red mask that looks almost like a lion, the mouth open in a roar. It’s kind of terrifying, to be honest. And that’s not even to mention the two swords the figure is holding, sharp and deadly.

He stifles a gasp when the figure brings down the swords, but instead of feeling pain rush throughout his body, he falls to the ground as his restraints are cut.

“Who are you? And thank you—” James starts, but the figure shushes him, beckoning James to the door. James follows the figure as they quietly creep through the doorway, though he can’t help but protest when the now-thawed frogs bounce out of his pocket. “Hey, guys, come on! Lily needs to suck on you guys to get healthy, you know.”

“Shut up,” the figure hisses in a low voice. “Do you want to be recaptured?”

Mutely, James shakes his head. Something about the figure’s clear distaste for this situation is vaguely familiar, but he doesn’t have much time to worry about that as they creep out of the fortress through the ground and begin to climb up the tall wall surrounding it with a rope.

And then the alarm sounds, blaring, terrifyingly loud, and alerting every single soldier in the vicinity of the wall to their presence. He feels them falling before he even sees the guard who severed the rope.

“FIND THE AVATAR!” he hears Malfoy bellow, and inwardly, he sighs, because that just had to happen now too, didn’t it.

The ensuing battle can be described as nothing short of chaotic. He manages to throw back a good amount of Fire Nation soldiers, and the masked figure shields him from the soldiers when he can. They make a good team, James realizes, this random red-masked guy and him. He wonders what Lily would think if he brought back the figure in the morning—hey Lily, I made a new friend! I don’t know what his name is, but he saved me from a lifetime of torture at the hands of Malfoy, so he seems to be pretty all right.

They manage to almost scale the wall for a second time, this time with bamboo letters, but unfortunately, once again, a soldier manages to stop them. This time, James realizes, they’re completely surrounded by firebenders, and he gulps. And there’s no earth around him at all, of course. Even the ground is metal.

“Stop!” he hears Malfoy call. “Do not harm the Avatar. I want him alive, do you hear me?” And then he feels the two swords at his throat.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t bring this new friend back to Lily.

Slowly, with the swords still at his throat—vaguely familiar situations again—he and the masked figure back away. They’re almost at the gates—finally!—when the masked figure crumples to the ground. There’s no time to dwell on that, though—he can hear the firebenders running behind him and Malfoy’s increasingly deranged shouts, so the moment they’re finally clear of the gates, him dragging the masked figure behind him, James sends up an enormous wall of earth. That’ll take them a while to get past, hopefully.

He pulls the masked figure up and onto his back as he runs, as far away from the fortress as possible. Finally, panting, he stops in a forest, tugging both himself and the figure up into a tree.

“Er—hi,” James starts awkwardly. “I’m going to remove your mask now, if that’s okay, just to, you know, check for internal injuries and all that. Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Facial injuries, I meant—if it’s okay with you, of course.”

The masked figure gives no reply. Oh, right, he’s unconscious.

He’ll take that as a yes, then. Slowly, James peels back the mask from the figure. He doesn’t even have time to stifle the gasp.

It’s Prince Sirius. Again.

“Why do you keep saving me?” James asks softly. Prince Sirius, of course, gives no reply. “Well, thank you for doing it, even if I don’t know why you’re doing it. I didn’t get the chance to tell you thank you last time you saved us—because you were saving us, weren’t you—so thank you for that too. You really got me and Lily out of a tight spot there.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Prince Sirius snaps, suddenly conscious. “I just don’t want Malfoy and my fucking bastard of a father to destroy the world.”

James shrugs. “Well, you still saved me.”

“And I don’t want to have to do it again,” Prince Sirius replies. “How do you manage to keep getting captured? Malfoy doesn’t even have two brain cells to rub together. It shouldn’t be that hard to avoid him.”

“No invisibility cloak,” James quips, and Prince Sirius looks at him with contempt.

“Try to not die, okay? It really shouldn’t be that hard,” Prince Sirius says. He slides down the trunk of the tree, wincing when he lands.

“Do you need a hand back to—uh, wherever you came from?” James asks. “I don’t think you should be walking on that.”

“No,” Prince Sirius says curtly. James watches as he limps out of his sight, disappearing into the trees. He sighs. As far as he can tell, Prince Sirius is an enigma wrapped up in a riddle wrapped up in an impenetrable hedge maze.

Three more hours later, he’s finally back at the cave, having managed to somehow find two more frozen frogs in the swamp. He gives them to Lily to suck on, and she hums appreciatively in her sleep.

An hour later, she wakes, sputtering. “James, what the fuck is this?”

“Frozen frogs,” he says cheerfully. “Did they help?”

“Why did you think—you know what, I don’t even know if I want to know,” she says, sighing. “I think I’ve been traumatized.”

“But you’re better!”

“Sure.”

part x

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briarruler · 3 years

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A:tLA Episode 13 - The Blue Spirit, Re-Watch Observations

I was re-watching Avatar: the Last Aribender’s Session 1 Episode 13, The Blue Spirit for more accurate fan-fiction writing purpose and I noticed somethings.

Blue Spirit thing

So the Blue Spirit was on top of the tower when Zhao got the bird from the Fire Lord saying he had been promoted to Admiral.

Now the funny thing is what this implies.

It implies that Zuko had, in his full Blue Spirit get up, casually broken into Pohuai Stronghold merely to sneak around and eavesdrop in general or to spy on Zhao.

So this fortress has a reputation as being impenetrable but here’s Zuko sneaking around for no particularly important reason. To me that implies that Zuko’s done this a LOT. Possibly Zuko goes Blue Spiriting every time he’s around any place that he thinks could contain something interesting.

So Zuko didn’t just decided to be the Blue Spirit to break Aang out, that was just the first thing the Blue Spirit had been Caught doing.

Aang’s Superspeed

So Aang can run at superspeed? Maybe he needs his hands free to do so and that’s why he left his glider behind and we don’t see superspeed in other episodes.

Yuyan Archers

Besides from their shooting capability what really gets me that Aang jumped off a cliff and they jumped off right after him.

These crazy non-benders carry arrows with ropes attached that they shoot into trees to use as swings to land on tree branches.

What sort of insanity results in thinking ‘we need to train our super archers to jump of cliffs’?

What is Pohuai Stronghold?

Is it a staging ground?

It has three walls and a tower in the middle but no other buildings?

Plus the hidden watch posts and the horn signals.

There are also lots of crates presumably filled with supplies all over the grounds.

And there is quite a lot of soldiers gathered to listen to Zhao’s speech.

Zhao address 4 battalions/companies/groups of soldiers which I didn’t have much luck counting but if I had to guess how many were in each battalion. I’d say 20 soldiers across and 20 soldiers deep so 400 soldiers to a battalion then times by 4 you get 1,600 soldiers. And those are only the ones listening to Zhao’s speech, so not the ones on duty.

Zuko’s Wild Skills

He extreme core and arm strength, all the climbing and hanging of things he does.

Rope climbing.

Zuko can uses chains in combat to tie people up.

Nice knife throwing from Zuko there, very good aim.

Also good knowledge of how Fire Nation Soldiers operate and react but that makes sense.

That trick with using the bucket full of water to put out that bender’s fireblast? That was pre-planned not improvisation. Zuko runs down the corridor with one hand behind his back holding the bucket and when the soldier uses his firebending he throws it at them, dousing the fire.

This implies that:

1, Zuko knew enough about the lay out and how Fire Nation Soldiers react to confidently guess that he could lure away three guards from the door but the fourth would stay behind, down the end of a corridor long enough that he can’t get to them before they use their bending.

2, Zuko anticipated this, possibly as far back as when he was coming in through the waterway/sewers. It is the most likely place he could have gotten the water from and it seems likely that there would be buckets near the water.

Other things

What the Fuck?!

Fire Nation soldiers can RUN UP WALLS using some kind of bamboo looking ladders! And then of course the other soldiers climb up the ladder. But that is how they lay their ladders. By having the guy at the front Run Up The Wall?

Presumably falling of a wall this high will not kill you, seeing as we see both Zuko and Aang throw people off the walls.

So, if Zuko’s mask had been knocked off in the other direction, would Aang have even recognized him? The loosened mask reveals part of the Blue Spirit’s face, but not the whole face and if had knocked off on the side without the large, distinctive scar...

Well, you know until Aang lifted off the mask entirely instead of booking it before Zhao’s men reach them. But still, if he hadn’t seen the edge of Zuko’s scar, would have have grabbed the Blue Spirit and ran, waiting to lift the mask for when they weren’t in immediate danger?

Also, Aang thought his friends were Really Sick and he had been caught during the day, escaped in the night, but then he waited until Zuko woke up, sometime the next morning, before he got more frogs and went back to them?

Uncle Iroh definitely know that Zuko was gone overnight seeing as he commented on it, but the rest of Zuko’s crew probably did too, seeing as it looks like he took the small riverboat to get off his ship.

Mono’s Diet

Mono the Flying Lemur, he’s carnivorous? Or omnivorous? He brought Katara a freshly dead mouse-like animal, which he probably hunted and killed for her, and then he chased the frogs Aang brought back.

There are probably other interesting things that I missed, but I just thought these where worth commenting on. The Blue Spirit is a very interesting episode.

#Avatar The Last Airbender

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rainhoeunicorn · 4 years

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Osamu wasn’t sure if it was his hair that was pointing perfectly on the east and west. Did he find it funny? No, it was cute, it was nice. He wanted to touch it. Osamu breathed deeply, it’s hot, he thought, the weather is hot.

Summer had started last month according to the weather station. He’s been looking forward to eating summer fruits and swimming and the long, lazy vacation days they had for the school break. Osamu watched the cloudless blue sky, waiting for a puff of cloud to pass by, then he suddenly heard the Student Council president’s voice, calling his name. Osamu closed his eyes, he was sleepy, he opened them again and walked lazily towards their classroom’s door. The president had come to their class to ask him to take photos of their school’s best athlete, said they needed it for the school festival brochure and posters. He was reluctant to take it, he was doing nothing in their class, he just finished setting up the online site they had asked him to do for the School festival and was waiting for the bell to ring but it was only after lunch, he was bored and wanted to sleep but the president was pushy. He was sweating and panting from running all over the school to make sure that everyone’s doing their job, to help those clubs who were out of manpower in building their booths. He was sweating, he smelled of sweat mixed with peaches, Osamu like him, at least he used to. But the president had decided to date someone else, Osamu guessed he liked flashy, popular, persistent and loud guys. He had fun making Onigiri for him anyway, he just hoped he also loved the rice balls Osamu made for him, those they ate together at the council’s room when he was too busy to get lunch and Osamu decided to accompany him and eat with him. It felt like it happened a long time ago, now that the president looks a lot happier and brighter. Akaashi, the president, gave him the Archer, the athlete’s schedule in a piece of paper before running off again, but Osamu managed to tell him to ask his boyfriend for a new shirt and he’ll be targeted after running around in sweat soaked shirt sticking to his body. Osamu sighed and unfolded the paper, reading the schedule and name of the the Archer—Suna Rintarou.

Suna Rintarou, he knows him by the name. Who wouldn’t? Osamu took his belongings from his seat and went to find the Archery Club’s training hall. The day’s clear and he doesn’t like it, the sky lacked clouds and it made the weather feel hotter. Suna Rintarou—a very popular name, made their school popular and known to the whole nation because of his archery skills, that’s all he knows about the Archer, Osamu only caught it on a TV news his mom was watching when they got home from school and Osamu had to peek at the living room to ask if there’s any chance it’ll rain soon. Their mom said no, there isn’t.

He feels sticky, Osamu stopped on his tracks and thought maybe he’d just come go check the Archer later when he knows more about Suna, would it be disrespectful if he doesn’t know a second thing about the nationally popular athlete of their school? Would he ask what the photo was about or if Osamu had watched any of his games before? Osamu sighed, Akaashi said he needed it right away. He walked towards the Archery Club.

The training hall was wooden—almost everything here’s made out of wood and it relaxed Osamu although he felt like he was back in time. The whole hall gave him a rush of nostalgia. He breathed it all in.

“Hi, is Suna Rintarou here?” He asked a third year.

“Yeah, he’s coming right up on the field. Akaashi already notified us, hurry along. Just don’t make too much noise.”

The practice hall was silent, guess archers needed it to focus and it was just polite to be quiet. There were three sets of targets in front and they were set a few meters away from the starting point, there’s a line of three archers—bows up, arrows drawn.

He walked slowly and silently around to get a place at the corner, a position where he could capture the best moment. Osamu took a seat and waited for the star to come up. The place was strangely cool, even without the air conditioner that most practice halls had, but he worried about whether the archers were not feeling too hot in their training garments. When he was finally settled, he remembered a few things about archery in their History class. He sighed, he learned more about archery in their history class than PE class. Their teacher emphasized just the three most important things that had caught his attention and the only ones he remembers now, since he wasn’t so much into traditional sports. Osamu liked volleyball, basketball and sometimes soccer, he liked how the play, the game, the ball kept on moving along with the body of the players. There was no time to waste, they gotta move of they will lose.

Archery had three goals, he remembered their old teacher said, Osamu straightened as he saw Suna was next in line. Archers want to reach these three states…

Osamu started setting up his camera, finding the better angle, Shin or Truth, when the archers aim true, he could still hear his teacher’s voice.

He finally found a good angle with good lighting, Zen or Goodness, with virtuous spirit and attitude toward all persons and all things which relate to archery. Suna was coming up, he was standing on the shooting line and Osamu wondered if Suna was a person or a deity standing there, nocking an eternal arrow directed to an evil spirit instead of a target.

Suna stepped forward and the little light that’s coming from a hinge between the wooden walls caught him, it made him look like he was basking in a godly glow, heck, Osamu thought it was like whole universe was working on putting a breath-taking spotlight on him, letting everyone know that he’s the real star and every glowing orbs in the outer space is nothing compared to him when he’s standing there all pristine and beautiful.

Third or last but the best state—is beauty or bi, beautiful shooting is realized naturally.

Osamu caught his breath; he wasn’t shaking but he felt like something about him wasn’t steady. He didn’t care about how the wood under him was squeaking slightly under his weight, or that everyone else was watching him watch Suna.

The Archer lifted his bow, Osamu saw his tender but tight hold on it. He felt like Suna was befriending the bow, and then the arrow, Suna drew it close, slowly, his grip firm but still the gentleness is there. Osamu lifted the camera, he wants to capture, this magnificent act, this beautiful scene. He couldn’t describe how one person, one scene, one archer could make him want to take a photo of everything—from the point where he walked towards the line, the way he’d caressed the string, the way he’d placed the arrow like he’s the only person who’s ever done archery the right way, to the way he’d drawn and then…

Whoosh!

Thump.

Osamu didn’t know that he’d been holding back his breath until Suna had made his shot. Suna did two more shots but Osamu had been two engrossed at his capture. In the photo looked like a glorified archer from the past, he was…

“Miya-kun?” Osamu looked up, the captain of the Archery club had approached him, “We’re actually done with today’s practice. Did you get what you needed?” Osamu nodded, still dazed.

How long had he been standing there, looking at Suna’s photo? The training hall was almost empty, everyone had gone already. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Senpai, I’ll close up, you can go ahead.” Osamu looked at the guy, Suna’s back was to him, they were alone.

Just him and Suna—and just that thought was enough to put him on a whirlwind of thoughts again.

“Are you now going home?” Suna was looking at him, he couldn’t read the archer’s face, Osamu opened his mouth and thought of something to say, he could just say yes and exit. But it seemed like his body wasn’t cooperating, he stayed there standing like a statue, mouth tightly clamped. What should he do? Can he really just go out of the hall and get home? Should he just let this opportunity past? If Osamu walks up to him, what is he supposed to tell him? How is he supposed to start a conversation with someone he just met and they haven’t even introduced themselves?

What would Atsumu tell him to do? What would Atsumu do? He wanna hit himself for thinking of his unhelpful twin at this time of crisis.

It’s just him and Suna alone in the hall, and before Osamu could think of a way out or stall Suna until he makes up a plan on how they could talk, Osamu’s body had enough of his bullshit and made its own way to the Archer, stopping only when he’s six steps away from Suna.

“I’m Osamu Miya,” he held out a hand to Suna, which the latter took.

“Suna,” he introduced briefly. Up close Osamu was sure he was going to die if he gonna get any closer to Suna that this. If he looked radiant earlier because he was on his game, now he looked ordinary and more like a normal student but it seemed to have a greater effect on Osamu’s whole being.

“T-The photo…” He stutters and feel warmth slowly creeping up to his face, he’s not some school girl talking to his crush for the first time! What the hell is wrong with him today? “Do you wanna see your photo before I submit it to the council?” Osamu didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting but it relieved him that Suna only looked at him, down the camera and then shrugged. Osamu looked at the camera, at the photo he took of Suna. He heard rustling and clicking of keys, he looked up and Suna was already outside the training hall, he followed suit.

Outside, the sun’s already set, the sky was a mixture purple and bluish black. Suna locked the door to the practice hall and then shrugged on his backpack. He was finally going to leave, Osamu thought, but Suna stopped on his tracks and looked back to him over his shoulder.

“Can you print a copy of that right now?” Suna asked.

Osamu was confused but he answered, “I can. Why?”

Suna wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was facing ahead, “Maybe you can give me a copy if there’s still a computer shop open somewhere.”

Osamu’s heart gave a pinch, a thump and then it was beating faster, the anticipation and excitement of doing something and going somewhere with someone who might be a potential new friend. He jogged to catch up to Suna until they’re walking side by side.

He’s happy and glad, but also knew he gotta still play it cool.

Osamu didn’t kinda get how much or why he’s not acting like himself that moment and confused about himself even more for thinking that he’s doing exactly what Atsumu might do which he considers gross. Osamu didn’t stutter, he didn’t even believe in love at first sight. He knew, or at least he tried to convince himself it wasn’t love at first sight.

He didn’t get much of what’s happening now with him, but at least he knew a certain thing,

Suna Rintarou was beautiful.

#osasuna #haikyuu #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu suna #inarizaki #manga #anime #hq!!#atsumu miya #miya osamu #miya atsumu #suna rintarou #akaashi keiji

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reallifesultanas · 4 years

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Portrait of Osman I / I. Oszmán portréja

Everyone know that Osman was the founder of the House of Osman, he remembered as the first of the Ottoman sultans. No one knows when or where he was born, and for a long time not a single artefact existed that could be confidently dated to his lifetime. There are two coins (which I already mentioned in the previous post about Ertugrul) from his time, and there are some legends, some descriptions about him, but we don't know too much about him still. So we know Osman was a historical person, but who was he?

His early life

Legends say he was born around 1260 as the son of Ertugrul Bey and Halime Hatun, and was from the Kayi tribe. It seems he had at least two brothers, Gündüz and Savci, who were both older than him. But there are no evidences for these legends. Yes based on the coins he was the son of Ertugrul so it can be true.

He became the bey of his tribe after the death of his father. Some chroniclers hint that after Ertugrul’s death Osman’s uncle, Dündar became the bey, but Osman didn’t want to accept, so he rebelled. Otheres says Osman ebcame the leader and it was Dündar who didn't accept him. Anyhow most chroniclers agree that Dündar and Osman had a fight and in the end Osman killed Dündar with an arrow. The modern sources stay silent about this, because they find it not too glorious to kill your own uncle for the throne. It's hypocrite in my opinion, since fratricide and civil wars were main part of the Ottoman History. So in my opinion there was nothing wrong with this act (if Osman really did that) in such circumstances. Anyhow he became the leader of his tribe at a relatively young age.

Osman's dream

Osman at first was loyal to the Seljuks, but then he began to act independently around 1299. The reason of this act is not known. But the legends say that the whole idea of the Empire – and so his kind of rebel againsts the Seljuks – began quite literally with a dream:

"One night, the first sultan, Osman, was sleeping in the house of a holy man called Edebali when: „He saw that a moon arose from the holy man’s breast and came to sink in his own breast. A tree then sprouted from his navel and its shade compassed the world. Beneath this shade there were mountains, and streams flowed forth from the foot of each mountain. Some people drank from these running waters, others watered gardens, while yet others caused fountains to flow. When Osman awoke he told the story to the holy man, who said “Osman, my son, congratulations, for God has given the imperial office to you and your descendants and my daughter Malhun shall be your wife”."

So after this dream Osman decided that he will creat his own Empire and will not be a servant of another state. Most probably this is just a legend, because these kind of „dreams” have a history with the Central-Asian origin nomad people. For example in the early Hungarian history there is also a dream like this, called „Emese’s dream”. This one is basically the same and story. Emese was the wife of Chief Ügyek, and she was impregnated by a turul bird. The turul appeared to her in a dream and told her that from her womb a great river would begin, and flow out over strange lands. According to dream interpreters, this meant that she would give birth to a son who would lead his people out of their homeland, and that her descendants would be glorious kings. Emese's son was named Álmos, whose name derives from the Hungarian word "álom", meaning dream, thus "Álmos" can be interpreted as "the Dreamt One". And it happened like that, because Álmos became the founder of House Árpád. Interesting fact is that the name Emese had a türk origin, originates from the Old Turkic eme, ana or ene, which mean mother.

So we clearly can see, that these kind of drem-stories can be found in any Central-Asian origin nation's legends and they aremostly have the same meaning.

Osman's life after his dream

Most probably it didn't happened like, Osman had this dream – or not – and he started to build an Empire... Most probably he never even dreamt of such a huge Empire, what later happened to the Ottomans. Most probably he just wanted to make his own beylik, with his own cities.

His first indisputable evidence comes from a Byzantine chronicler, who tells the story of a battle at Bapheus, quite near Nicomedia (Izmit), in July 1302, in which Osman and a force of nomad archers defeated a Byzantine force accompanied by Alan auxiliaries. It is possible that badweather upstream and a rare flood of the Sakarya river downstream made it attractive to Osman and other türk beys to seek to recoup damage to their herds in the lowlands. At this time Osman was no more powerful than a number of other minor beys.

Within a very short time, türk raiders had reached the Sea of Marmara. A contemporary Byzantine chronicler describes how news of Osman’s victories spread and attracted Türks from other areas of western Anatolia to join his following, and how his force was strong enough to defeat a Byzantine army near Nikomedia (Izmit). From their base in the Sakarya valley, where Osman had occupied the old Byzantine fortified places, his men plundered the countryside to the west, forcing the inhabitants into the walled towns. These remained secure, since Osman obviously lacked the military skills to undertake formal sieges: his assault on Nikaia failed. He did take several other fortresses and fortified towns in the Sakarya valley, using them to store his plunder. In a similar manner he destroyed the countryside around Bursa, but also failed to take that city.

His personal life and family

Osman had at least two wives. One was Edebali's daughter for sure, as his dream also suggest. She was named Rabia Bala, or simply Bala but sometimes called Malhun as well. She was the mother of Alaeddin Bey and maybe had other children also. It seems she may had problems with the nomadic lifestyle or her relationship with Osman went wrong, because she spent the last years of her life with her father. She died in Bilecik in 1324 and was buried next to her father’s tomb.

Osman's other wife was Mal Hatun, who possibly was the daughter of the ruler of the Umuri or Amouri principality. According to a Byzantine historian “a son of Umur fought with Osman in one of his first raids against local Byzantine lords”, which may explain the marriage between Osman and Mal Hatun as a political alliance. Mal Hatun was the mother of Osman’s successor Orhan, and she actually outlived her husband as she was buried in the family tomb around Osman’s grave in Bursa. It is not known when she died.

In the first sentence I said at least two wifes... Well yes "a historical tradition regarding the acquisition of one of Osman’s wives calls to mind the Turkish nomadic practice of acquiring women through raids on neighboring tribes. As the story goes, one day on his way to Eskisehir. Osman caught sight of a woman in the village of ltburnu, fell in love with her, and, without telling his father, sent someone to ask for her in marriage. She refused on the grounds that she was not worthy of him, although this may have been an excuse, since there were rumors that Osman intended only a brief dalliance with her. Osman was spurred to kidnap the woman when an erstwhile ally of his, listening to his description of her manifold virtues, decided to take her for himself. Although the sources confuse this woman with Mal Khatun and Edebali’s daughter, she was clearly a person of lesser status. The details of the story indicate that the kidnapping occurred when Osman was quite young and before he had gained more than a local reputation. Women of standing themselves, selves, Edebali’s daughter and Mal Khatun probably married a more mature and powerful Osman."

Osman had at least eight sons and one daughter.

Osman's eldest son - whose name is unfortunatelly unknown - was given to the Selcuk Sultan Gıyasuddin III Keyhusrev to be raised in his household when Ertugrul stipulated a peace treaty with him. He had descendants who were alive at the time in which Bayezid I conquered Malatya. The fact that this son of Osman was sent to the Seljuk Sultan during Ertugrul’s life, suggest that he maybe was born to the women, who Osman captured.

His second son most probably was Orhan, who was born around 1281 and became the second ruler of the Ottoman dynasty. During Orhan's reign the little principality began to acquire a more settled aspect. Osman’s territory had contained no large towns. But in 1326, however, the city of Bursa succumbed to starvation and became, from this date, the first capital of the Ottomans. In the next year, following an earthquake which damaged its fortifications, Orhan’s men occupied the Byzantine town of Lopadion (Ulubat), towards the Dardanelles. Moreover Orhan was the first one who established an Ottoman bridgehead in Europe. He achieved this by exploiting a civil war in Byzantium between the rival Emperors John [VI] Kantakuzenos and John [V] Palajologos. Kantakuzenos sought allies among the Turkish rulers of western Anatolia and, in 1346 formed a pact with Orhan by marrying him to his daughter Theodora. The strategy was successful and, in 1347, Kantakuzenos entered Constantinople and proclaimed himself Emperor, with the other John as his co-regent. So beside his great victories Orhan was the first to use marriage as a tool to get himself supporters. His successors used to do this until Mehmed II, who changed the tradition and stopped the sultans from marrying noble women.

His third son was Alaeddin Ali Bey, who was born around 1290 and later he was made governor of Bilecik. He had a son Kiliç Bey, and their last descendant died in 1530. Aleaddin also built a mosque complex in Bursa. He didn't lived a long life, sources don't agree, but most probably he died around 1330.

Osman's other children are less knowns. We don't know anything for example about Savci Bey, just that his son married one of the daughters of Orhan

I. Melik Bey is also not known, we only know that he had a daughter.

Çoban Bey was surely Osman's son, because he built a mosque in Bursa, and by his complex it is known who he was.

Osman's other son was Pazarli Bey, who was the commander of his brother Orhan I for years, so maybe he was the closest to Orhan? Pazarli Bey also had a daughter, and two sons.

Osman also had another son, Hamid Bey, but we have zero information about him.

Osman had most probably more than one daughter, but we only have evidence for the existence of one. Fatma was named in the foundation deed of later Orhan I, so we know that se existed, but nothing else.

It seems like we know a lot about Osman, isnt it? But actually, even his name is the subject of some controversy!

A Greek historian gave us the description of the Sakarya flood and is the one contemporary writer to mention Osman ’s name, did not call him Osman at all but rather Ataman. The surprising notion that Osman had another name finds support in two later sources. Ataman is a Turkish name or maybe Mongol, while Osman is impeccably Muslim. This has led to some suspicion that Osman, or Ataman, the Ottoman, might have been born a pagan, that he may have taken his new name Osman later when he became a Muslim. But if this were true, if Osman were indeed a convert to Islam who changed his name, why would his sons have kept their genuinely Turkish names, who were Muslims beyond any doubt? From what the greek historian wrote, about the only thing we can surmise of the Turk he called Ataman is that he was a warrior.

Osman's death and legacy

The date of Osman's death too is uncertain. He probably died by 1324, the date of a trust deed registered by his son Orhan. The Moroccan world traveler Ibn Battuta, who visited the area in 1331 - 32, wrote that Osman was buried in the mosque of Bursa, probably the former Church of Saint Elias. This church is no longer standing, due to an earthquake two hundred years ago. Osman's remains now lie next to those of Orhan, father and son in suitable twin mausoleums erected in 1863. All in all it was Osman who was the founder of the Ottoman Empire, and who was to give his name to the Ottoman – or Osmanlı – dynasty.

Used sorces: Colin Imber - The Ottoman Empire, 1300-1650; Peirce - The imperial harem; Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey, 1071-1453; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar Cilt 2; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları

* * *

Azt mindenki tudja, hogy Oszmán volt az Oszmán-ház megalapítója, és úgy emlékszünk rá, mint az első oszmán szultánra. Azonban senki sem tudja mikor és hol született, évszázadokig létezésére sem volt bizonyíték. Azóta előkerült például két aranyérme, melyeket ő veretett (és amelyekről már szó esett a korábbi, Ertugrulos posztban); ismert néhány leírás is róla, azonban nem tudunk még mindig túl sokat. Tehát akkor ki is volt Oszmán?

Korai évei

A legendák szerint Ertugrul Bég és Halime Hatun fiaként született 1260 körül a Kayi törzsben. Azonban nincs erre bizonyítékunk. Igen, itt vannak az érmék, melyek arra utalnak, hogy Oszmán apja valóban Ertugrul volt, de semmi mást nem tudunk biztosan.

Apja halála után vált a törzs fejévé. Néhány történetíró szerint Ertugrul halála után annak öccse, Dündar lett a bég, amelyet Oszmán nem fogadott el és fellázadt ellene. Más források szerint épp fordítva történt és Oszmán lett a bég, Dündar pedig fellázadt ellene. Akárhogyan is, abban egyetértenek a történetírók, hogy Oszmán és Dündar harcoltak egymással, melynek végén Oszmán egy nyíllal megölte Dündart. A modern források csendben maradnak ezzel kapcsolatban, hiszen méltatlannak érzik, hogy a dinasztia alapító ilyen véres családi küzdelem árán lett bég. Ez véleményem szerint nagy álszentség, hiszen tudjuk, hogy a testvérgyilkosság és a polgárháborúk milyen komoly részét tették ki a birodalom több évszázados történelmének. Véleményem szerint tehát a körülmények ismeretében semmi rossz nem volt abban sem, ha Oszmán valóban így ragadta magához a hatalmat. Mindenesetre azt tudjuk, hogy Oszmán kifejezetten fiatalon vált a törzsét vezető béggé.

Oszmán álma

Oszmán törzsfőként eleinte hűséges volt a Szeldzsuk Államhoz, azonban idővel, 1299 körültől függetlenül kezdett el cselekedni. Ennek oka ismeretlen. A legendák szerint az egész birodalom alapítási ötlet - és ezzel együtt a Szeldzsuk Birodalom elleni lázadás ötlete - egy álommal kezdődött.

"Egyik este az első szultán, oszmán egy szent ember, Edebali házában aludt, amikor:"Azt látta, hogy a hold a szent ember mellkasából a magasba emelkedik, átlebeg az ő mellkasára, majd belesüllyed. Ezekután testéből egy fa nőtt ki és behálózta a világot. Lombja alatt hegyek voltak, folyók folytak azok lábainál. Néhány ember a folyókból ivott, mások kertjüket locsolták, míg mások szökőkutat alkottak a folyók vizéből." Amikor Oszmán felébredt, elmondta az álmát ennek a szent embernek, aki erre eképpen felelt: " Oszmán, fiam, gratulálok, Isten téged választott, rád és utódaidra bízta a dicső feladatot. Leányom Malhun legyen a feleséged."

Ezután az álom után döntötte el Oszmán, hogy birodalmat alapít, nem pedig más birodalmakat fog szolgálni. Nagy valószínűséggel ez csak egy legenda, hiszen a hasonló álmok kifejezetten gyakranjelennek meg a Belső-Ázsiai eredetű nomád népek hiedelem világában. Például a korai magyar történelemből is ismert egy ilyen álom, Emese álma. Ez alapvetően szinte ugyanaz, mint Oszmáné. Emese Ügyek felesége volt és egy turul madártól esett teherbe, aki álmában meglátogatta és azt mondta neki, hogy méhéből hatalmas folyó fog áradni, mely új vidékekre is eljut. Az álomfejtől szerint ez arra utal, hogy ő fogja világrahozni azt, aki elvezeti új hazájába népüket és, hogy utódaik dicső uralkodókká fognak válni. Emese később világrahozta fiát, aki az Álmos nevet kapta, utalva Emese álmára. Külön érdekessé teszi Oszmán szempontjából a történetet az, hogy maga az Emese név is türk eredetű, amely az ősi török eme/ana/ene szóból ered, mely anyát jelent.

Egyértelmű tehát, hogy ezek az álom-történetek megtalálhatóak a legtöbb Belső-Ázsiai nép legendái között, és szinte minden esetben alapvetően hasonlóak, hasonló jelentéssel bírnak.

Oszmán élete az álma után

Nyilvánvalóan az álom után nem az történt, hogy Oszmán hirtelen birodalmat akart építeni (már ha álmodott egyáltalán)... Valószínűleg még csak álmodni sem mert arról, ami valójában történt leszármazottjaival, hogy ilyen hatalmas birodalmat hoztak létre.Valószínűleg ő csak egy kis bégséget akart magának, néhány városkával.

Első kétségtelen bizonyíték Oszmán uralkodásáról egy bizánci történetírótól származik, aki leírta Bapheus-i csatát, mely Nicomedia (Izmit) közelében történt 1302 júliusában. Eszerint Oszmán és nomádokból álló íjászai legyőztek egy csapat bizánci katonát. Lehetséges, hogy az időjárási körülmények nagyban felbátorították Oszmánt. Ekkoriban ugyanis hatalmas áradás zajlott a Sakarya folyó mentén, amely miatt Oszmán és csapatai szükségét érezték a terjeszkedésnek, hogy legyen hol legeltetni és hová menekíteni állataikat. Ekkoriban azonban Oszmán nem volt több, mint egyike a sok kicsi törzs vezetőinek.

Rövid időn belül azonban győzelmének híre elért a többi türk táborba is, elkezdték őt csodálni és egyre több türk tábor csatlakozott hozzá Nyugat-Anatóliából is. Így a türkök már a Marmara tengerhe is elértek nemsokára. A Sakarya völgyben táboroztak, és innen indultak újra meg újra lerohanni a környező területeket. Valóban sikerült ezzel területet, legelőket szerezniük, azonban egyetlen fallal körülvett várost vagy erődítményt sem sikerült bevenniük. Oszmán megpróbálta Nikaia-t is bevenni, ám nem járt sikerrel, mint ahogy a Sakarya-völgy más városainak esetében sem. Hasonlóan járt Bursával: bár a környéket sikerült meghódítania, a várost magát nem tudta bevenni.

Magánélete

Oszmánnak legalább két felesége volt. Egyikük Edebali Seyk leánya volt, akire az álom is utalt. Rabia Balának, Balának vagy Malhunnak hívták. A források nem értenek egyet nevében. Az bizonyos, hogy ő volt Aleaddin Bég anyja, de lehetséges, hogy más gyermekei is születtek. Úgy tűnik, hogy idővel kapcsolta megromlott Oszmánnal, vagy a nomád élet nem volt nekivaló, de utolsó éveiben visszaköltözött apjához. Bilecikben halt meg 1324-ben és apja mellé temették.

Oszmán másik felesége Mal Hatun volt, aki feltehetőleg az Umuri vagy Amouri területek urának leánya volt. Bizánci történészek szerint "Umur fia Oszmán mellett harcolt, amikor azelőször győzte le a bizánciakat", ami megmagyarázná a valószínűleg politikaiházasságot is Mal és Oszmán között. Mal volt Oszmán örökösének, Orhannak az anyja. Bizonyosan túlélte Oszmánt, ám pontos dátum nem ismert haláláról. Végül családi türbébe temették Bursa közelében.

Az első mondatban azt írtam, LEGALÁBB két feleség... Igen, a történészek szerint Oszmán egyik feleségét a nomádokra jellemző asszony-rablással szerezte. A történet szerint Oszmán egyik nap Eskisehirbe tartott, amikor meglátott egy gyönyörű leányt Itburnu falujánál és azonnal beleszeretett. Apja (Ertugrul) engedélye nélkül odaküldött valakit, hogy kérje ki neki a lányt. A lány elutasította azzal az ürüggyel, hogy nem méltó a férfihoz, ám ez valószínűleg csak kifogás volt. Oszmán ezekután elrabolta a lányt. Sok forrás összekveri ezt a lányt Edebali lányával vagy Mal Hatunnal, azonban egyértelmű, hogy egyikük sem lehetett, hiszen mindketten jóval magasabb rangú nők voltak. A történet részletei arra is utalnak, hogy ez még Ertugrul élete során zajlott, tehát Oszmán igen fiatal volt és nem volt semmiféle befolyása. Edebali leánya és Mal Hatun egy már érettebb Oszmánhoz mentek feleségül.

Oszmánnak legalább nyolc fia és egy leánya volt.

Legidősebb fiát - akinek neve sajnos elveszett az idők során - a Szeldzsuk Szultán, III Giyasuddin Keyhusrev nevelte. A fiúval pecsételődött meg Ertugrul és a szultán béke megállapodása. A fiú Szeldzsukoknak való átadásának idejéből következtethetünk arra, hogy talán az elrabolt parasztlány volt az anyja? Mindenesetre a fiú utódjai egészen I. Bayezid uralkodásának idejéig Malatya környékén éltek.

Második fia valószínűleg Orhan volt, aki 1281 körül született és később ő lett a második oszmán szultán. Orhan uralkodása alatt a kis bégség, melyet Oszmán hozott létre sokkal kifinomultabbá vált. Oszmán ugyanis nem tudott elfoglalni városokat, Orhan azonban 1326-ban sikeresen kiéheztette és elfoglalta Bursa városát. A következő évben pedig egy földrengés után Orhan seregével sikeresen tudta elfoglalni a megrongálódott Lopadion (Ulubat) városát a bizánciaktól. Mindezek mellett Orhan lett az első, aki az európai politikai színtérbe is bele tudott avatkozni. Kihasználta a háborút, amely két rivális között, VI. János Kantakuzenos és V. János Palajologos között zajlott. Kantakuzenos egyezséget kötött Orhannal, ennek megpecsételésére pedig hozzáadta feleségül saját leányát, Teodorát 1346-ban. A stratégia sikeres volt, 1347-ben Kantakuzenos belépett Isztambulba, és császárrá nevezte ki magát. Tehát győzelmei mellett Orhan volt az, aki először kötött jelentős politikai házasságot is. Utódiai egészen II. Mehmed uralkodásáig rendszeresen használták a szövetségkötésnek ezen módját.

Oszmán harmadik fia Aleaddin Ali Bég volt, aki 1290 körül született és életében Bilecik helytartója volt. Született egy fia Kiliç, akinek leszármazottjai még 1530-ban is jelen voltak. Aleaddin emellett mecsetkomplexumot és építtetett Bursában. Nem élt sokáig, a források szerint 1330 körül hunyt el.

Oszmán további fiai kevéssé ismertek. Nem tudunk például semmit Savciról azonkívül, hogy született egy fia, aki később feleségül vette unokatestvérét, I. Orhán leányát.

Oszmán, Pazarli nevű fia Orhan mellett tevékenykedett annak parancsnokaként, tehát lehetséges, hogy a két férfi közel állt egymáshoz. Pazarli bég gyermekei is ismertek, legalább egy lánya és két fia született.

Oszmánnak volt egy Hamid nevű fia is, akiről sajnos nincs semmi információnk.

Oszmánnak mindezek mellett valószínűleg több lánya is volt, azonban csak egyikük létezésére van konkrét bizonyíték. Fatma ugyanis meg volt nevezve I. Orhan egyik alapítványának papírjain, mint Orhan testvére, így ő bizonyosan létezett és Oszmán lánya volt, ám semmi mást nem tudunk róla.

Úgy tűnik sokat tudunk Oszmánról, igaz? Azonban valójában még a neve is ellentmondásos!

Egy görög történész, aki a Sakarya folyó menti ütközetet taglalja Oszmánt nem Oszmán néven említi, hanem Atamanként. A meglepő tény, hogy Oszmánnak lehet egy másik neve is, két másik forrásban is bizonyításra lel. Ataman egy türk vagy mongol eredetű név, amely arra utal, hogy Oszmán eredetileg nem volt talán muszlim sem. Ebből történészek olyan következtetéseket vonnak le, hogy Oszmán talán idővel tért át az iszlámra és vette fel az Oszmán nevet. Azonban ezt cáfolja, hogy fiai kétségkívül muszlimok voltak, mégsem változtatták meg eredeti türk nevüket. Abból, amit a görög történész jegyez az egyetlen plusz információ Atamanról, hogy nagyszerű harcos.

Oszmán halála és hagyatéka

Halálának pontos ideje nem ismert. Valószínűleg 1324-ben hunyt el, mert fiának alapítványi papírjai ezt a dátumot említik. Emellett egy marokkói világutazó, Ibn Battuta 1331-32 körül meglátogatta Bursát és lejegyezte, hogy Oszmán Bursa mecsetjében nyugszik, mely korábban a Szent Elias templom volt. Mára a templom/mecset már nem áll, ugyanis 200 éve egy földrengés elpusztította. Oszmán földimaradványai most Orhan mellett nyugszanak egy ikermauzóleumban, melyet 1863-ban építtettek számukra.

Összességében tehát Oszmán volt az Oszmán Birodalom alapítója és az Oszmán - Osmanlı - dinasztia neve is tőle eredeztethető.

Felhasznált források: Colin Imber - The Ottoman Empire, 1300-1650; Peirce - The imperial harem; Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey, 1071-1453; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar Cilt 2; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları

#osman i #bala hatun #malhun #malhun hatun #rabia bala #orhan i #bursa #ottoman empire #osmanlı #ataman #osman #orhan #şeyh edebali #edebali

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lbibliophile-atla · 4 years

Text

Fire Lord Zuko’s Assassination Attempt Bingo: Trapped

For @whumptober2020 - day 25: I think I’ll just collapse here, thanks - day 14: Fire

Also on AO3 - part 6 Words:1510

-----

Fire Lord Zuko wakes in the infirmary.

That’s… that’s probably a good thing.

Because the last thing he can remember is lying flat on rough wooden planks, the air thick with smoke, and feeling the flames slip from his control.

It should have been a pleasant afternoon. Accompany Toph down to her ship – walking, so she can keep her feet on solid Earth for as long as possible – then take a slightly circuitous route back so he can enjoy the nice weather and escaping from his duties for once. But no. Because the problem with coming out of a hundred years of war, is that far too many now-civilians have at least basic military training.

And that means that he doesn’t realise they are being herded until they are deep within the warehouse district between the docks and the city centre, any near-by foot traffic melting away – empty streets surrounded by blank walls; stupidstupid, you shouldn’t have let it get this far.

It means he doesn’t realise that they are under attack until Kaneto is pushing him out of the way, the arrow slipping beneath an upflung arm to lodge itself deep in the guardsman’s throat – don’t think about the sound of the arrow sinking into flesh, choking off a cry; don’t think about his body slumping to the ground, dead before you realised what was happening; don’t think about how nearly that was almost you.

It means that when they attack in person – almost a dozen fighters, firebenders and non-benders both – they move as a team, supporting each other’s attacks rather than hindering.

Of course, it is not enough, not against him. Kaneto might be down, but he still has Guardswoman Sayumi by his side. The attackers have both numbers and the element of surprise, surrounding them in the narrow street, but it takes only minutes for them to rally and break free – to escape not to fight, because Kaneto is dead and he doesn’t know if they have reinforcements, and he has learnt that sometimes retreat can be the honourable option.

They escape into the maze of back-alleys. And he knows that it is a mistake; every turn leads them further away from the safety of the main roads, and around any corner his luck could run out and leave them facing a dead end. If it was just him, he’d take to the roofs – risking confrontation with the archer and anyone else stationed up there – but there are no obvious routes up, and he can see Sayumi beside him limping as she runs.

Instead he takes the next best option. Hurrying while their pursuers are still out of sight, he breaks open one of the doors; feeding a sharp burst of flame into the lock to warp the mechanism while leaving it externally undamaged. Quietly, they slip inside.

The door opens directly onto the warehouse floor, crates and barrels and bales stacked in endless aisles. Keeping their ears open for any other movement they make their way deeper into the room, twisting and turning down the narrow paths, until they are out of sight of the doors. At last, he stops and slumps down on a crate.

“We should be safe enough here for a few minutes. At least long enough to catch our breath.”

Sayumi collapses onto the crate next to him, completely disregarding protocol.

“Good, because I need to get this leg wrapped, or I’m not going much further at all.”

He looks over at her outstretched leg, wincing as he sees the slash in her uniform pants, the red fabric discoloured below. His fault.

“Do you want…” He hesitantly reaches towards her, but lets his hands fall as she gives him a tight smile, already pulling bandages out of a pouch.

“I’ve got this. You keep listening and make sure aren’t snuck up on.” Again.

He leans back, his breathing steadying, his ears alert for any echoes; but his mind is churning. He should be planning their next steps – how they are going to get out of this, all the paperwork he will have to deal with afterwards, ferreting out the story behind this particular band of dissidents – but instead his mind just keeps replaying the dull thunk of an arrow hitting flesh, the rush of panic, the brief glimpse of blank eyes staring up at him…

A sudden flare of heat in his fire-sense throws him out of his spiralling thoughts. The fresh-lit fire glows brightly against the cool background of the empty district. He reaches out to the flames, feels their eager grasp on the painted wood of the warehouse wall, feels the touch of another bender pushing them stronger, higher. His head jerks around as he feels another blaze spark to life, and another… He curses.

“Time’s up. Looks like they’ve found us. And instead of waiting or coming in after us, they’re going to smoke us out.”

Sayumi grimaces.

“Well that makes these guys either very smart or very dumb. Because however you take it,” she nods at the crates and barrels surrounding them, “we are about to be in a world of trouble.”

He squints, trying to read the text stamped onto the wood. This is a drygoods warehouse, so… beans, rice, cured meat, and… oh.

“The oil.”

She snorts.

“Yeah, the oil is bad. The flour is worse.”

“Wait. Flour?”

“Something I saw a couple of years ago; we were trying to lock down this little Earth Kingdom place. Now normally even the earthgrubbers realise that, however bad we are, surviving the winter has to come first. But someone must have been desperate enough to decide that there were more important uses for their flour than simple cooking. Turns out, under the right – or wrong – circumstances, setting fire to a barrel of flour can be just about as bad as a barrel of blasting jelly.”

He looks around the room again, and feels a shiver go down his spine. Yeah. That… that would be bad. Even Uncle wouldn’t be able to deal with that inferno. He takes a deep breath and settles into meditation position.

“In that case, we’ll simply have to make sure they don’t catch on fire.”

He closes his eyes to focus, but opens them again when Sayumi nudges at his arm.

“Sir. Your majesty, you should go. With your skills, you still have a decent chance to get out…”

“Not without you. Now shush, and let me concentrate.”

He reaches out to the fires again, feeling how much they’ve grown even during that short exchange. They lick eagerly at the dry wood, fuelled by the wind whistling through the alleyways, and the power of one… two… thee… four benders. There’s no way he can extinguish them by himself, so he doesn’t try. Besides, a blaze like this draws attention; he just needs to slow it down long enough for help to arrive. Letting out a steady breath, he wraps the flames in his will, and holds.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, battling over every inch of charred wood. In the part of his mind not locked on his struggle, he knows that it is too long. At least one of the other benders has swapped out for someone fresh; someone should have seen by now. Given how well the rest of the attack had been planned, perhaps he should have expected that they would plan for even such an eventuality as this. But help will come eventually, and there is nothing else he can do, so he holds.

He can keep the heat and flames at bay, but there is nothing he can do for the smoke. When he cracks his eyes open, they start watering immediately in the thick haze. Sayumi is unconscious on the floor beside him, smoke inhalation or blood loss, he can’t tell; he carefully lowers himself to join her – to escape some of the smoke, that’s all, not because he is swaying where he sits; he can’t afford to give in to the exhaustion. Blocking out his awareness of anything but the fires fighting his grasp, he holds.

----

Ripping himself out of the memory, he gasps, blessedly smoke-free air burning as he fills his lungs. Sayumi. How is Sayu-

His eyes latch onto a figure in the bed next to him. His breath catches; she is lying so still… Then her chest rises, and he lets out a sigh. She’s breathing; not dead, at least – not like Kaneto, with his blank staring eyes…

He focuses on the next steps. If their rescuers managed to apprehend any of their attackers, he’ll have to find out what they wanted. If they all got away, then he’ll have to organise for a search so this doesn’t happen again – he doesn’t want anyone else to die for him, they shouldn’t have to take their job that far.

He glances at Sayumi again. And in the meantime, he needs to get someone to look into the safest methods of storing flour. This is the Fire nation, after all. Accidents happen.

#whumptober2020 #no. 25 #no.14 #i think i'll just collapse here thanks #fire #atla #zuko #fanfic #minor character death tw #trapped in burning building #ambush #assassination attempt #fire lord zuko's assassination attempt bingo #bingo fill #flour/dust explosions are a real hazard #but occur when the dust is in the air

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