downchange

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 60 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

The rain finally stopped after two long days.

On the morning of the third, Maric stepped out of their tent into a world washed clean, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky.

Some of his men were already up, moving around the campsite, packing things away.

Brayan emerged from the tent minutes later, already dressed for the day, then did an about-face back into the tent.

When he sat down next to the campfire with Maric to eat some breakfast, no longer in his uniform blues, a subtle yet perceptible shift swept through the camp.

Without a word from Brayan, the message was clear.

By the time the camp was dismantled and everyone stood ready to depart, the colour blue had vanished from sight.

Once they crossed the border into Ticia, being recognised for what they were would be a very dangerous thing.

Brayan even dusted Luce with some of the region's reddish soil, though it didn't do much to disguise his fine breeding.

There wasn't much that could be done to disguise the quality of the men in their group, either.

They weren't very convincing as a ragtag group of merchants or mercenaries.

As they began their ride, Hudson gave the other men lessons in how to slouch and look undisciplined.

He'd clearly spent the last few days working on a particularly unsightly beard that Maric had to admit made him look quite unlike someone who ought to have a place in the prince's guard.

Riding out toward the valley's winding exit, Dara and Bug fell into lively chatter in Eulan.

Brayan observed them with a rare serenity on his face, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Brayan had always been the eye of the storm, calm, collected but Maric was beginning to realise that he'd never truly been at peace with himself.

Maric wasn't one to judge, he had been walking the same tightrope, draped in duty, yet feeling distant from its heart.

They were meant to be beacons for the border soldiers, a morale boost in what appeared to be an endless, joyless tug-of-war.

For Maric, this role was a convenient escape from his father's shadow, a space where he didn't have to confront their strained relationship.

Just thinking about his father made Maric tense up.

The idea of any reconciliation was unthinkable now, especially after what had happened to Dara but it wasn't just about Dara.

Maric had always harboured resentment towards his father, believing it to be a private issue that inadvertently bled into his duties because he couldn't detach his feelings from his responsibilities.

Now, he understood it was more than a family squabble.

His father's actions had taken the brother of one of Maric's own men from him.

Maric would make sure he answered for that and for the many other wrongs he'd done to many other people.

The misery of Maric's childhood was the least of those but these were heavy thoughts for another time.

For now, Maric allowed the cool mountain breeze to soothe his spirit as he led his men along a narrow, rugged trail towards the unknown.

********

By midday, they reached what could only be described as the saddest excuse for a border marker Brayan had ever encountered, a barely discernible, faded red cloth tied to a weather-beaten stake in the ground.

Dara gracefully dismounted and assisted Bug down, their hands clasping as they theatrically stepped across the boundary.

Standing now in Ticia, Bug's face lit up with a radiant smile, turning towards Brayan as Cassie, ever attuned to the group's emotions, danced excitedly around them.

"Let's take a short break here," Maric declared, watching the scene unfold with a softness in his eyes.

"Savour this moment. We'll need to be even more vigilant once we move on."

Bug, lingering by the modest marker, silently beckoned Brayan over, clearly reluctant to cross back over.

With a nod to Raedon, who took Luce's reins, Brayan walked over.

"Can we go for a walk to the top of the hill during the break?"

Bug asked.

Brayan's gaze followed the path winding up the hill into Ticia.

It wasn't particularly steep nor distant but he knew Bug's stamina was limited.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to rest now?"

"Well, maybe but... please? We can rest once we're up there."

Brayan let out an indulgent sigh.

"I'll get some food."

Bug waited patiently and once Brayan had gathered some dried meat and hardtack, they set off together.

As Brayan watched Bug struggle to haul himself up the short distance to the top of the hill, he was tempted to just pick him up and carry him but he didn't want to rob him of his dignity.

Reaching the summit of the hill, modest as it was, seemed to infuse Bug with a renewed vitality.

He spun slowly, absorbing the expansive view of the arid landscape that unfolded around them.

There was a smile on his face as he turned to Brayan, and Brayan found himself mirroring it.

"This is the moment," Bug said, locking eyes with Brayan.

"The one I was shown. What the thing in my head promised me to get me to stay."

"And has it lived up to your expectations?"

"It's surpassed anything I could have dared to hope for. I'm glad I trusted it."

"Was this why you wanted to come up here? Did you know?"

"I had a feeling," Bug admitted.

"But even if my hunch had been wrong, sharing this moment with you would have been worth the climb, don't you think?"

"If you're willing to use your energy for this, I won't object but once we're back on the road, you're sharing my horse so you can get some rest."

Bug's eyebrows lifted.

"I'm not sure you have the authority to give me orders on this side of the border."

Brayan faltered.

"I didn't mean..." he paused, choosing his next words carefully.

"You're right. That came out more like an order than I intended. I apologise."

Bug's smile softened the moment.

"I was teasing. You're right, of course and I welcome the rest. If you're offering, I'd be glad to ride with you."

"Even so, your point stands," Brayan said as he extended a piece of dried meat to Bug.

"I don't have the right to command you and I must be mindful of that. I imagine it doesn't help that my own father was very much the head of our family but you're not a woman. You're just as much a man as I am."

"Oh," Bug said.

"I guess the Eth are a little different. My parents ran our household as an equal partnership. For us, that's normal."

Brayan mulled over Bug's words.

"I suppose I have no strong feelings on the matter. I think there's value in hierarchy but I've come to see that assigning someone a leadership position by default has its flaws. Perhaps it is stronger for two people to negotiate that role between themselves. To balance that power in a way that supports a more levelheaded approach."

Bug offered him a fond smile.

"I never really thought about it as a matter of power. They were just my parents. We loved one another and lived a quiet life with our goats."

"My father had high standards for me but I wouldn't be where I am now without them. Without a prestigious family name, I had to outperform at every turn to secure my position. We were comfortable, yet in circles where titles weigh more than talent, I was an outlier. I'm lucky that Maric is the kind of man to overlook such things but I also put in the work so that I could confidently say that I am the best choice for the job."

"I was never very ambitious," Bug admitted.

"I was quite happy just... living. Raising goats, making cheese, doing a little hunting and of course, fantasising about the man from my dream. I hope my lack of drive doesn't disappoint you."

"I value who I've become, Bug and I aim to be a good partner for you but trust me, no relationship needs more than one person like me."

Bug nodded, a thoughtful silence falling as he began to nibble on the dried meat Brayan had offered.

[likesplatterpaint]

In-laws are here, time for ALL the uncomfortable discussions.

Like legit MIL had an uncanny sense of asking about specific things Mike has been stressing about out of silence.

We need to put them on an information diet, but guess who’s trauma/dysfunction relationship with HER mother makes lying by omission REALLY FUCKING HARD UGHHHH

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

TATMILB, CHAPTER 5

Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.

Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.

Chapter 5: Penelope agrees to fake date Schneider and they work out the rules during Alex’s baseball game. Penelope enjoys Nikki’s visible fury at their public affection, and braces for Lydia's reaction.

On Penelope’s left, her Mami was pulling out snacks and explaining the hodgepodge of containers they were stored in. On her right, Schneider was facetiming Elena, showing her the rest of the family and a shaky view of Alex on the field.

“Okay, okay, I gotta go,” she heard her daughter say, laughing at Schneider from another continent. “I’ve got class. Thanks, Schneider. I’ll call you guys this weekend!”

Penelope rubbed her palms on her jeans and stood, almost knocking Schneider’s phone out of his hand when she reached for him.

“We’re going to get snacks!” she told a very suspicious Lydia as she gripped his hand and led him out of the bleachers.

“But we don’t need anything! I brought all the food!” her Mami called as they left.

“Okay,” she told Schneider, as soon as they were standing near the food trucks and out of earshot.

“Okay...?” He blinked at her, in that friendly but confused way of his. Like a really tall golden retriever--he wanted to be accommodating, even when he had no clue what was going on.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” she told him, shoving her hands into her pockets. Part of her wanted to bounce from foot to foot, that was how nervous she was. The whole idea was still insane, obviously. But she’d made up her mind.

“The more I thought about it, the more I think you have a point. If Max sees me with you for a while, he’ll get the message that I’ve moved on. I do not want to debate our past, it hurts too much. And I don’t know why you’d want to try and be more than junk buddies with Nikki, but if you want to make her jealous, well...”

Penelope snuck a glance at the bleacher two spots away from theirs, where Finn’s mom could usually be found.

“I could be real good at that.”

Schneider beamed like she’d just offered to throw him a party, rather than engage him in a conspiracy to trick their exes.

Lupe, what are you are doing? She wondered in a flickering moment of indecision--but she shut that down hard. This was her best option. This could make the whole mess go away.

“Yeah?” Schneider asked.

“Yeah. Yes. Let’s do this thing.”

Schneider was still smiling, which was why Penelope was so unprepared for him to lean down and kiss her.

No warning, no preamble--he didn’t even ask, she thought, her mind whirling with shock--Schneider just leaned down and slid one hand under her hair to cup the nape of her neck and then his mouth was on hers.

He was...well, he was a good kisser when he actually tried.

She filed that fact away, to deal with later.

Even without the warning he definitely should have given her, she knew it was all for show, so Penelope let herself go along with it for exactly three seconds more. She counted them in her head, while the rest of her enjoyed the way that Schneider’s mouth was firm and warm and gentle.

When he pulled back, his eyes were crinkled at the corners, beaming delight down. He had both hands on her shoulders, steadying her. She was surprised to realize that she needed it.

Penelope was a little dazed as the rest of the world came back into focus. She could feel her Mami’s eyes laser-focused on them, and the murmurings of some of the other parents in the surrounding stands. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew more than one of the kids’ classmates had asked them if Schneider was her boyfriend over the years--and that some of their parents wondered the same thing.

She actually caught a glimpse of Nikki in her peripheral vision, fuming as loudly as a silent person could.

Satisfying as that was, she shook his hands off her shoulders. “Listen, if we are going to do this, we need to come up with some rules, you get me?”

Schneider held both hands up, an immediate don’t-hurt-me posture that he fell into with her automatically by now. Fair enough, she thought, since she could hurt him, and they both knew it.

“You can’t just kiss me like that. That was not okay. You hear me, Schneider? You didn’t even ask, you just--”

“I know, I’m sorry, I was really excited and it felt like, well, like sealing the deal. You know? We’re going to be a pretend couple, why not start now?”

“I’m not saying we can’t start now.” She exhaled, sharply, tugging her shirt down as though she could tug her sense of gravity back into place with it. He’d knocked her off balance too much--she didn’t like knowing he was capable of that.

“What I’m saying,” Penelope continued after a calming breath, “is that we need ground rules. You were right before, about blurring the lines. Pretending to be a couple is one thing, but we are friends. We can’t lose track of that, mess up where we stand...and you may be big into meaningless affection, but I’m not.” 

“Okay, and I hear what you’re saying, Pen, but if we act like we’re just friends...if we stay the same, nobody is going to believe we’re together. You were not hands-off with Max,” he reminded her unnecessarily. “And Nikki knows my sexual habits well.”

Penelope couldn’t help pulling a face at that. “Please don’t make me throw up next to the food,” she muttered in Spanish so he wouldn’t understand her.

“That’s why I’m saying we need rules. Boundaries we agree on in advance, so we both know what’s okay, what we’re comfortable with. So we don’t get...confused.”

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Schneider nodded and grabbed a stack of napkins, thanking the man running the stand with casual Spanish that made her eyebrows fly up. When did that happen?

Schneider dug a pen out of his pocket--she wasn’t going to ask why he was carrying a pen--and scrawled ‘Rules’ at the top of the first napkin. “So, what do we both think is okay?”

“Handholding,” she started with. They’d done that already, anyway, as friends. That wasn’t even weird anymore. It’d be weird to know that everybody else thought it meant more than it did, but what about faking a romance with her best friend wouldn’t be weird?

“Casual touching,” Schneider offered up, waiting for her nod before he added it beneath handholding. They’d been like that with each other since he became part of the family--and if Penelope was honest with herself, she was more affectionate with him than he was with her, anyway. It was just how she was.

“Now, about kissing,” Schneider said, looking at her across the snack counter they were using as a writing desk, as though she might hit him.

“Yeah.” Penelope bit her bottom lip, thinking it over. “You’re right. If we’re going to do this, we have to be willing to sell it. We’re both adults, and if it were a real relationship, we would be...physical, with each other.”

The way she stumbled over the word, over the thought--the way her mind pushed back against the idea of seeing Schneider that way, accepting him as a person who was also a man capable of being sexy and attractive? She couldn’t really explain it. But she also couldn’t avoid it anymore.

“So, how about this? We’ve already kissed. Back there.” She waved behind them, feeling like such a dork, but pressed onward. “It went okay, right? The world didn’t end. We’re fine.”

Schneider watched her, his forehead furrowed. “I agree.”

“So let’s say that kissing is okay. Within the rules. That’ll make this look like our other relationships. Not suspicious. But we should have a signal that means back off, if it’s too much for either of us.”

He considered it for a moment. “That's good. It could be something subtle, like pressing on the inside of your wrist. Gets your attention, but not anybody else’s.”

She tried to imagine that playing out in her head, her heart skittering past the picture of actually kissing Schneider, and nodded. “Yeah, that should work.”

Schneider’s pen hesitated after he added that, hovering over the napkin. “What about forehead kisses?”

She didn’t know why that seemed important, the way he said it, or why he even asked, when they’d basically just agreed to regular public makeouts, but she smiled a little, trying to reassure whatever part of him made it sound wobbly.

“Sure. Forehead kisses are fine.” 

Penelope took a deep breath. “Okay, Schneider, this is the biggest sticking point for me.” She jabbed a finger into his designer t-shirt clad chest. “We cannot tell anybody that this is fake. Nobody.”

“Alright.”

“I mean it. Not even my family. If we’re going to do this, really do this, then you have to willing to fake it with my Mami, with Alex, everybody. I do not want them judging this decision, it was bad enough that my mom had a stroke when Max and I broke up. And Elena’s so far away, I wouldn’t even know how to explain lying about something this huge without basically telling her it’s okay to lie--and she’s in London! Who knows what she could be lying about all the way over there?”

“Take a breath,” Schneider told her, and waited while she did, his hands on her forearms. He watched her settle back down before he answered her.

“It’s fine. It’s a pact. This won’t be the first time we’ve kept each other’s secrets, right? It’s just that this time we have the same one.”

“Okay, so you think you can do it. Not gossip with anybody about this.”

He mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing the key away. “When your mom presses me for information, I’ll just redirect her using the Force.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, and his dramatic gasp got the attention of the people in line next to them. 

“Don’t tell me you’re not a Star Wars fan. Come on. They’re foundational for our generation. They changed the face of the movie industry forever. I know the first one can be a little slow, but they’re so worth it.”

“I’ve...actually never seen it.” 

“How is that possible? Elena’s a total scifi geek, and Alex loves superheroes. You raised those kids.”

“I didn’t raise them alone! Victor watched Star Wars with them. I never had to.”

“It’s not something you do because you have to,” Schneider replied, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Well, if we could get back on track here,” Penelope said, pointing to the napkin. “Magical space movie powers aside, you’re gonna hold up okay against my nosy family?”

He shrugged. “You’re fake-dating an addict, remember? I used to be an expert at this. Lying is muscle memory.”

Shifting gears, he thought out loud. “We’ll have to make sure we’re all over each other when we chaperone Homecoming this year. Definitely can’t let that opportunity go to waste.”

“Yeah, because dances are a pretty key ingredient to romance,” she agreed, not bothering to keep the bite out of her words. “You just want to have your ‘nobody puts Baby in the corner’ moment to show off for Nikki.”

“My what?”

“Your Patrick Swayze dance movie thing.”

He shook his head, and she scoffed. 

“Dirty Dancing, Schneider. The lift, above his head? The singing along to the song?”

“I haven’t watched that. Heard it’s good though.”

“Oh my god, in what world have you watched the Star Wars movies but not Dirty Dancing? It’s a classic.”

“Fine.” Schneider put pen to paper again, showing her the napkin, where he’d added ‘Star Wars + Dirty Dancing double feature’ on their must-haves list.

Penelope laughed. “Okay.”

“We’re in agreement about the dance, though, right?” He checked with pen in hand. “If my side of our deal is to convince Nikki that I’m relationship material, the romantic parts are important. She needs to see my smooth moves on the dance floor. She needs to see me romancing you.”

It felt risky. It felt stupid.

Going out with him was just like hanging out as friends, with more affection. Faking it to make Nikki jealous would be kind of fun because she couldn’t stand Nikki, and it should help keep Max at arm’s length where she needed him to be.

Faking it for her family would be harder, but not impossible.

But pretending to be a couple at Homecoming?

The last time she went to Homecoming was with Max. The idea hurt. And scared her a little. Did she want to pretend that Schneider was her boyfriend under genuinely romantic circumstances?

Was there any universe in which that would be a good idea?

She doubted it.

He was not wrong about the logic behind it, though. So she nodded, and kept her thoughts to herself.

“I can bring you flowers a lot,” Schneider decided. “To your work, to the house, everywhere.”

Penelope was about to say how romantic and sweet that was, until Schneider finished the thought with, “Nikki hates it when I get romantic with her, so maybe seeing how much you appreciate it will change her mind about what a good boyfriend I could be.”

“You have to visit me at work!” She blurted out, remembering it at the last minute.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Like, lunch visits to stop in and say hi, or maybe picking me up after my shifts sometimes. Especially when I have my residency days at the hospital.”

“Oh. Right, right, right. Gotcha. Make him jealous. That’ll be a good time for the flower drop offs,” he noted, jotting it down on the list. “Now here’s the big one for me. You have to make time for a standing Friday night date, and you have to come with me to Alex’s first travel game.”

“What? No way! Schneider, you know how busy I am. You take him on travel games because I can’t. And I don’t have time to date for real, why would I--”

“Because, Penelope.” He drew her name out for emphasis. “If you want to make your family think this is real, then we have to date. Otherwise they will not buy it. No chance.”

“But the travel game? Those are overnight. Are you saying we’d have to share a bed, and...”

“It’s not a proposition,” Schneider said patiently. “You know what Alex’s travel games are like for me. I take him, he plays, he hangs out with his friends, and Nikki hits on me from the moment we arrive to the moment we leave again.”

“Oh.” Yes, okay, he had probably mentioned that, Penelope thought, but she didn’t exactly make Schneider’s love life a priority when it came to her limited brainspace.

“So, if we’re saying we’re a couple, and you don’t come on the travel games--at least the first one, to make a statement--then Nikki’s first move will be to show up at my door at 2am. If we want this to work, I need Nikki’s booty call to be met with your sexy girlfriend energy, like a forcefield that reminds her I can do better.”

Penelope couldn’t decide if she wanted to be be offended at the idea that her value lay in being a girlfriend-shaped buzzkill...or if she was weirdly flattered that he saw her presence as enough to make Nikki feel inferior.

There was no choice there that made her feel less gross as a person, so she shrugged and moved on.

“I get it. With Elena overseas and my job a little less hectic, I should be able to swing a travel game. We’ll trade off sharing the bed.”

“Noted.”

It was ages away. There was no way they’d still be trying to win over/repel their exes by then.

No chance.

She held out her hand for the pen and initialed the napkin, watching as he did so after.

“We should get snacks to take back to my mom,” Penelope decided, uncharacteristically.

Not that any of this was really characteristic of her. But it would help stop her Mami from blasting questions at them right away when they got back, and even a few seconds breathing room would be a blessing.

Schneider paid for all the food.

She chose not to argue. Her head hurt. She had a rich boyfriend now. Fake boyfriend.

Whatever.

He had money and she was all out of energy for negotiating. Plus, Schneider’s smile when she waved at him to go ahead and cover the cost was almost worth it.

He so wanted to share and help and offer himself up to everyone else.

As fake boyfriends went, she could do much worse.

****

As soon as they passed their additional snacks to her mom and cheered Alex, who was finally up at bat, Schneider took full advantage of his hands being free.

Penelope had agreed to the lie, but that didn’t mean she knew exactly how to fake a relationship. Where was she supposed to start?

Schneider had no such confusion, at least that she could see. He shifted himself closer than he usually stood at Alex’s games, and slung one arm over her shoulder so she was snuggled up against his side until it was time to cheer and try the wave.

It did feel very couple-y, she decided. He was good at this.

Nikki was glaring at them from her own seat, and every time Penelope caught it in the corner of her eye, it made her feel vindicated. Schneider deserved better, and lord knew why he was even hoping to convince Nikki to be his girlfriend at all, but since he was…well, that was Penelope’s best friend that Nikki liked to treat like dirt.

She took some joy in pissing off the woman who had dented his heart.

The daggers her Mami was shooting at both of them, the silent fuming and the restrained tension radiating off Lydia, Penelope knew that would last as long as Alex’s game did.

So, much like Schneider next to her, she just kept going through the motions. He focused on being her boyfriend now, and she focused on being the supportive mom for her talented sports kid, and she knew that Hurricane Lydia would land on them both as soon as they got home.

She was pretty sure the only reason her Mami didn’t explode even sooner than that was because it would’ve been dangerous to them driving home, and with her precious grandson in the car she wouldn’t risk it.

[drcrushers]

so this was meant to be the next installment of the ‘wait for me’ series, but i never finished it and it’s honestly still a rough draft. it was a plot point i didn’t end up using but i also might in the future in a different setting. so enjoy this little nugget!

"I don't like it."

Persephone glanced at the reflection of her husband as she looped one of the studded gems into her earlobe. Simple diamonds - well, simple compared to the variety of gemstones and beautiful colors offered by the unlimited stock in the mines. Simple was better for that particular evening - an evening that already had her stomach turning into knots. 

"I know." She said quietly, admiring herself before she twisted in the chair to her vanity so she could see her husband properly. Hades was leaned against one of the bedposts, arms crossed with a darker than normal expression. "I don't like it either, but it's better this way."

"Don't see how." He scowled, brows knitting together in the center of his forehead. Persephone stood and crossed to him, taking his face between her hands. Her mighty man, who’d been doom and gloom all afternoon, didn’t pull away. Just gave a huffy little rumble deep in his chest.

"Because you need to be here." She said slowly. "Because if you go up that mountain you'll cause a war with one wrong expression. You ain't as subtle as you think, husband." She fiddled with his rolled up sleeves, fingers tracing the arm bands woven with the fine silver thread. He gave a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. 

"And you won't? You got a temper to rival your momma's." Hades replied after a moment. She tugged hard on the armband and let the elastic snap against his bicep in warning. He caught her hand in his, bringing her knuckles to his lips fondly and the expression on his face softened briefly. "I worry."

"I know. Were it for any other reason, I wouldn't go at all. Don't trust 'em. And after this - well, they'll be lucky if we don't turn them away at the gates now." Persephone glanced over to the bedsheets, where she'd tossed the letter sealed with the damn lightning bolt seal and her name and Hades' written in her daddy's own hand. "But I gotta face my music. And you know I ain't goin' unarmed. He wants to play hardball, he'll find out how much better I play. Especially given the circumstances."

"It ain't his business." Hades snarled. And he was right, Persephone knew. The underworld and it's inhabitants were not his realm. Nor any of the others. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last that the king of the gods stuck his nose where it didn't belong. To demand their appearance to answer about the songbird and Persephone's choice of temporary successor - well, things were working out just fine. Granted it had only been a few months since, but she hadn't heard bad things (except from her momma, who had already ripped her a new one - but then Persephone had used Melinoe as a bargaining chip and had immediately won that argument). 

"No. Ain't his business. But you know him - can't stand it if somethin' happens under his nose and he didn't condone it."

"He touches you at all and -"

"Hades." She warned gently. "Thanatos is comin' up with me. Momma will be there too, and she'd rip Zeus in half if he even thought of it and send you the remains in a box of ashes. Hera will deal directly to me." She leaned up to kiss the frown from his lips. "Now tell me I'm pretty."

"You're stunning, as always." He murmured, and reached up to brush an errant curl from her face. "Haven't seen you like this in a while."

She'd donned a black dress not unlike her usual underworld wardrobe, but this dress was laced with silver accents that gleamed like the diamonds Hades was so fond of comparing her to. Nothing terribly fancy, but enough to make a statement - which was half the battle up on the mountain. They all lived in damned black tie wardrobes most of the time and while Persephone was not to be outdone, she was sure as hell not gonna follow their rules. 

"I'm queen of the underworld. Gotta look the part." She smiled. "Just need my crown."

With a flick, a wreath of silver and gemstones appeared in Hades' hand. Old as their marriage, that crown. She hadn't worn it since they stopped doing official trials and having audiences and the factories had started rising up. Hades had made it for her within the first week of their marriage, a crown of silver leaves and asphodels immortalized in delicate gemstones. He nestled it atop her head in a soft gesture, sealing it with a kiss to her forehead. 

"You be careful up there." He whispered and she nodded. 

"And you take care of our girl." Persephone smiled softly, which was accompanied by the soft noise of their daughter in her bassinet by the bed - neurotic as they both were, they had yet to move her to her own nursery. Persephone turned to gather Melinoe into her arms, pressing a kiss to her nose. "Was wonderin' if you were gonna wake up to tell momma bye, chickadee." 

Melinoe blinked, and lurched forward to try and grab at the shining gems that decorated her mother. Persephone chuckled and caught a flailing hand in her own, pretending to nibble on it to the delightful squeals of laughter of her little one. Her whole world, her girl and her man. Melinoe wasn't even close to her first birthday and already she had the look of her daddy, those dark eyes all brightened with curious energy. Their winter's child. A miracle, if Persephone believed in such. 

"He'll be expecting you to bring her." Hades crossed the space between them, reaching out instinctively to catch Melinoe's other hand. “He wasn’t subtle in the invitation. As if he had the right."

"Which is why I ain't. He's expectin' you, too. But I'll handle it. One of us needs to stay with our little sprout. I'll see to our girl up top."

With a kiss to her daughter's forehead and a parting kiss from her husband, Persephone headed off for the train. The underworld was quiet and while she smiled at the shades she passed, there was a tension in her expression and her stance building the closer she got to the platform. She hadn't been up top in a while now with the new arrangement; she had imagined this trip would have been introducing Melinoe to real sunlight for the first time. Not going up the damned mountain on her daddy's whim because he was feeling bitter that she'd circumvented his original contract. Not to mention it was the first time spending any length of time away from Melinoe, which didn't sit right in her gut either. But her little girl had Hades, and would be safe in the underworld. Untouchable. One of the good things about the shadowed realm - the other gods couldn't cross the boundaries without permission, not even Zeus himself. If anything happened to her up on Olympus, Hades and Melinoe would be safe.

The train was waiting when she arrived, and so was Thanatos. Persephone was perfectly fine going up the mountain on her own, but Hades had insisted and she wasn’t about to argue. If things went sideways - well, it would be useful to have someone else on her side. Quite frankly Persephone didn’t trust her momma to pick her side over Zeus’. Much as she hated the king of the gods, Demeter could be easily swayed into doing what was best for Persephone - or what she thought was best. Especially since Demeter was unaware of why Persephone had refused for so long to go up the mountain, why Hades had forbade it. That was about to be out in the open, too.

The great machine let out a hissing billow of steam as she hopped up onto the platform. Thanatos tilted his head, eying her sharply with those endless black eyes. Her lips quirked and she gave a mock curtsy. 

“Let’s get this over with.” He murmured in a voice nearly low as Hades’, and offered out a hand to help her onto the train. Persephone snorted, but took his hand and stepped onto the train for the first time in a real long while. 

It felt strange, really. Somewhat empty. Granted she’d done plenty of runs up top without Hades, and plenty back down. The train had just been a mode of transport, nothing more or nothing less, taking her from one prison to another while she wore gilded handcuffs and drank herself half blind. The bar was still there, untouched, and Persephone briefly considered making herself something to get a bit of liquid courage to deal with her relatives. Deciding against it, she flopped unceremoniously into one of the seats and tried to lose herself in the gentle thrumming of the train beneath her feet. It lurched, and began the slow pull away from the station. 

Persephone tried not to consider worst case situations. Quite frankly she hadn’t considered consequences to her and Eurydice’s little switch - not that there was any. Not important ones. The only thing lost seemed to be her daddy’s ego, which was nothing unusual. Only annoying as hell, and the fact that he had put thinly veiled threats to her in the invitation made her all the more angry. She only worried - Eurydice now spent half the year up top, which was very much fair ground for Zeus or any of his demi-god bastards he usually got to do his bidding. Which meant she was vulnerable. She had faith that Eurydice could hold her own with the share of ancient magic Persephone had gifted her, but the idea all the same made her stomach sour more than what it had. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to swallow the bile in the back of her throat.

Maybe she should have let Hades come. Or made him go without her. But no - she’d caused the mess. Made her bed. Now she had to lie in it. Hades didn’t need to take the blame; didn’t need to be made out to more of the villain all of Olympus seemed to think he was. 

She knew when they passed from the underworld to the mortal realm, a chill running up her spine and causing the hair on her arms to stand on end. She looked away from the slowly brightening landscape beyond the window to Thanatos, but he had leaned back on another bench and drawn a hat over his face; for all appearances, he seemed asleep. She knew better of course, but didn’t bother in disturbing him. 

The train began to slow as they approached the platform she had gotten on and off at since the beginning of time. She watched it come into view, the train coming to a full stop just a few moments to allow other passengers to board. It felt strange not to be getting off. They'd barely stopped before they were off again, and the door to her private compartment opened. Persephone smiled. 

"Hey there, songbird." Persephone greeted as Eurydice stepped through, wearing her usual garments - except the red bandana at her neck. Eurydice hugged her fiercely and Persephone could smell the sunshine that radiated from her, like an inner light. It suited her; seeing the smile and the color in her face was even more of a delight. Songbirds were far better alive than dead.

"Its good to see you." She murmured. "You holding up alright?"

"Alright as ever." Persephone promised. "Though I should be askin' you."

"More than. Demeter's helped and I think I'm doing okay. I mean - everyone is happy. No one is hungry. The harvests look good - great even." Persephone noted the brightness in her face did not fade. "I'm happy."

"Good. As long as you're happy, I am too. Poet alright?"

"He is. Sends his love. Already writing a new song."

Hopefully Orpheus would still hold up, when Eurydice came back down below for those required six months. But knowing she was coming back - that was the aid. Eurydice would always come home to him. Doubt would and could not cloud Orpheus as it had Hades. Not after everything. 

Bickering tore Persephone's attention from Eurydice to the two others that had boarded and were now coming into the private car with quiet words hissing between them like two angry snakes. 

"What in hell are you two on about now?" Persephone asked. Demeter and Hermes both looked up, Hermes sweeping forward first with a bright grin. 

"Never you mind, sister. A'ight?"

"A'ight." Persephone echoed, and moved to embrace Demeter. "Hello, momma."

"Hey, girl." Demeter smoothed a few flyaways from Persephone's unruly curls, and took her face in both her hands. "Missed you."

"Missed you. Wish we were meetin' under better circumstances."

"Never you mind. Your daddy is a bag of hot gas and nothin' more. I'm on your side, and your girl's here. Much as I hated it - she's good. And you got the little one. She ain't here, is she?"

"No. I figured she's safer back below, with Hades. Just in case." Persephone murmured. "Just in case."

From there, quiet conversation filled the car. Persephone listened as Eurydice and Demeter filled her in in the things up top, and Hermes toured on about the things even further up top. No one made mention of where and why they were going, but she could feel the tension grow thicker than molasses the closer they got to the mountain. Goosebumps pimpled across her arms as they passed another barrier into the true realm of the gods. She swallowed back the bile in her throat and stared out the window.

Worst case, she'd end up dead. Hypothetically. Or stripped of her abilities. Memories erased. There were too many possibilities. Eurydice could be hurt, too. Or Orpheus. Persephone had inadvertently dragged quite a few people into her mess - but they had come willingly. And they were there as a figurative army at her back as the train once more began to slow. 

The platform at Olympus was only a part of a great train station. One gilded in gold and paintings and statues from the classical era, when the mortals had gotten how the gods had looked all wrong. Curiously, she watched Eurydice take it all in with a slightly awed expression as they disembarked. Scenes from long ago eras were portrayed in murals, paintings, and frescoes that hadn't aged a day. 

The marble statues were hidden in little alcoves along the walls between the artwork - beautiful but not at all accurate. Hades had a massive beard in his, her mother was carved far older than she should have been. Persephone had one as well, but they'd given her so much youth. Artemis looked fierce and Athena and Ares both wore matching expressions in theirs. Eurydice paused at some of them as they threaded through the grand hall of the station. Tunnels that were not labeled branched off, leading to what she knew were other platforms that led to either other realms, or other places on the mountain of Olympus. It felt strange to Persephone - there was usually at least a few demigods or muses roaming about the station to head here or there. 

Now it was empty. Nary a soul. 

"I'd give you a grand tour if I could." Hermes was saying to Eurydice, his arm around her shoulders as they walked toward a wall that instead of a tunnel, held a gleaming golden elevator. The doors opened at their approach with no prompting - Eurydice balked. 

"Tacky as hell. Used to be this was just one lush field." Persephone muttered. "Olympus used to be more green than gold. Heph's done nice work on the tile inlays, though."

Demeter snorted as they stepped into the elevator. There was no panel of buttons - the elevator doors closed once they were all piled in. Thanatos looked almost out of place, his dark aura contrasted sharply against the gold interior that reflected everything right back. Persephone studied her tinted reflection, her own dark clothes and gleaming silver crown a direct disobeyment of everything Olympus was. Demeter had not dressed up, and neither had Eurydice - good. The bitter part of her hoped it offended at least some of them. 

The elevator climbed with no noise, rising higher in a way that made Persephone's stomach swoop uncomfortably. No. Melinoe did not belong up there in such a gilded cage. A gilded hell. 

"Should we have a game plan?" Eurydice asked after a moment. Persephone reached out to grasp her hand and squeeze it. 

"Game plan is on me, chickadee." She murmured. "Whatever happens, go along as you can. If things go south, Thanatos is tasked with gettin' you right on outta here."

"And you." Thanatos rumbled lowly, which she ignored. Eurydice frowned. 

"South?"

"Gods have tempers and they get all riled up. If they do, it'd be too dangerous. You got half my magic girl, but it wouldn't be enough to keep you safe against the whole panthenon."

Eurydice opened her mouth to likely protest, but the elevator stopped quite suddenly without even a hint of warning. The doors slid open and cool air swept into the container as they stepped off. A set of double doors greeted them in a grand, gilded lobby with more stupid art - place looked more museum than anything. Displays of wealth and power that Persephone curled her nose at. The great set of wooden doors was ancient as time itself, carved with a tree of a myriad of branches. Beautiful and worn, Persephone recalled the one time she had seen it before it had looked the very same. She'd traced the inches of it with lithe fingers while Hades had held tight to her hand, the pair of them about to face her momma and Zeus in regards to their hasty marriage and Demeter's fit of ire. 

Now, she took hold of Eurydice's hand and squeezed it tightly. If Eurydice was afraid, she certainly didn't show it. With no further hesitation, she shoved open the heavy doors and stepped through.

The room itself had not changed largely since her last visit to Olympus. In mortal terms it was akin to a ballroom, but the ceiling didn’t exist; instead, it was open to the cosmos above in a beautiful array of stars - for now. As she recalled, it had a tendency to change with her daddy’s moods. On a raised half dias around the room there were gilded thrones, identical in color but carved with unique inlays to their owners. For all the modernity that the gods had, Zeus had kept the core foundations of the mountain the same. The room could be anything it wanted - a lounge, an intimate club, whatever they wanted. Clearly it was a power move being pulled; make her feel like an outsider. Nothing new.

Arranged on the thrones were, as expected, the pantheon. Her daddy in the center, perched like the king he thought he was. Hera was to his left, her face an impressive neutral mask - Persephone’s nails dug into her palms at the sight of the so called queen of the gods, and didn’t relax even as Demeter took hold of her free hand. Poseidon, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, and Athena fanned out on either side of Zeus and Hera, with Aphrodite and Hephesatus rounding things out. Three of the tacky chairs were empty - Demeter and Hermes both moved from her side then to take up two of the empty chairs. The remaining one belonged to Hades - and thus, as his wife, it also belonged to her. 

But Persephone did not sit. She stood with Eurydice, the pair of them alone in the center of the room. 

“Full regalia for this really necessary?” Persephone remarked to the otherwise silent room. “Figured we’d settle this in your back office and be done with it.”

“Your actions deserve full council.” Hera drawled, painted lips drawing into a sharp, deadly smile. “I should think you’d be happy to have a fair trial.”

“Trial?” Persephone arched a brow. “Nothin’ in that damn note of yours said trial. I’m here to say my piece, that’s all. Ain’t a reason for a trial. I’ve done nothin’ wrong. And before you open your mouth again will some utter bullshit, point me to whatever trumped up rule book you’ve invented tellin’ me I’ve done wrong by the universe.”

“Persephone.” Zeus’ voice rumbled in a way not unlike Hades’. He was older than she remembered, grayer at the temples. Nearly fully white as Hades, but not quite. Whereas her husband took after his mother, Zeus and Poseidon took after their daddy in a way that made her stomach twist itself back into knots. “You’re here as a guest. Not on trial. But you understand we naturally have . . . questions about your decision to give this human -”

“I have a name.”

Zeus’ gaze slid cooly over to Eurydice, who had spoken quite sharply. 

“A name. My name is Eurydice. And Lady Persephone saved my life.”

“No, she didn’t.” It was Hera who spoke again. Gods, Persephone wanted to rip her perfect fucking face off. “She broke the law of the underworld and returned a soul to the living without permission. Souls are not permitted to return to the aboveground in the way you have, mortal.”

“Last I checked my husband was in charge of the law of the underworld, not you.” Persephone remarked. “And he ain’t got a problem with it.”

“I can’t help but notice Hades isn’t here.” Poseidon added. “Will he be joining us at all?”

“No. He willingly remained behind to see to the realm. That a problem?”

“You mean to babysit?” Hera mused. Persephone’s vision went vaguely red.

“Forgive me, I didn’t want to expose our daughter to the bullshit on this mountain at such an early age. She’s fine, by the way. Thanks for askin’.”

Hera’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s not like I asked for this!” Eurydice added. “I want it, more than anything. I love what Lady Persephone has given me. And - the promise of the contract is still there. I only bring the spring for six months. Then I spend winters down below. It’s the same thing as her, isn’t it? I just . . . took over her contract.”

Bold, Persephone thought. She’d expect nothing less from Eurydice and that fire burning in her. Hera looked positively livid that Eurydice had spoken without being spoken to - again - but to Persephone’s relief, Zeus looked at least amused. A decent sign. 

“Hades has given his permission.” Persephone repeated, then glanced to her momma. “And so has Demeter.”

“I have.” Demeter added. “As a firm believer in a child havin’ both her parents, I granted the contract amendment.” She gave a long side-eye to Zeus, who pretended clearly not to notice. 

“If both parties agreed, I see no true issue.” Athena’s voice was clearly flat; one of the many who seemed bored by the whole ordeal. Who thought it was a waste of time. 

“I did not give my permission.” Zeus said evenly. 

“Hades was the holder of the contract, with respect.” Hermes drawled. 

“And if you look at that contract close enough, it never mentions me by name.” Persephone pointed out. 

“It says Kore - “

“Which ain’t my name.” She cut across her father. Her hair was standing on end again - like the way it did just before a real bad thunderstorm. When lightning was in the air. Shit. “My name, as granted and given by you, is Persephone. Other than that, the contract states the seasons gotta be brought. And far as I can tell, Eurydice’s doin’ a damn fine job of it. Haven’t heard a single complaint.”

“She’s right. I looked over it myself.” Hermes spoke again. “She technically ain’t broke a single thing in that contract. And Eurydice’s doin’ a fine job as it is.”

“I did what I did for the sake of my marriage, and my daughter. I ain’t gonna abandon my girl. Eurydice and Orpheus helped repair damage done. If it weren’t for them, pretty sure you wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation. Instead you’d have mortal riots on your hands cause they’re all starvin’.” Persephone flexed her fingers, but they returned to the balled up fists at her side. It was difficult, trying to keep her temper under some normal range. The entire situation was foolish, the council a joke. Just because everyone else in the room seemed to be a shit parent, didn’t mean Persephone would ever be. 

“Are we going to really discuss the logistics of this?” Hera snapped. “She broke the laws. You cannot just decide to name someone a god because you felt sorry for them. Otherwise half the mortal realm would be gods by now!”

“As opposed to the bastard demi-gods runnin’ about?” Persephone snarled. “Not much difference. I had every right. It’s my power, and mine to do with what I damned well please.”

“Then clearly you need stripped of them because you don’t know how to handle them.”

“Like you stripped me of my children?” 

There was a quiet, tense silence that settled. Persephone was staring at Hera with every ounce of fury in her, watching as the queen of the gods seemed to internally debate how best to handle the situation presented. Perfect.

“You’ve gone delusional as well. I’ve done nothing to your child.”

“Ain’t for lack of tryin’.” Persephone continued. Without breaking her glare to Hera she fished in the front of her dress and pulled out a small, folded few notes that had certainly yellowed with age. She brandished them with a flourish. “And you did. Try. Succeeded before, too. I always thought it funny why my babies never survived in my womb. I’m the goddess of fucking life. Except where it mattered - or so I thought.” She stepped forward toward Hera’s throne, and no one made an immediate move to stop her. 

“And then I found the letters. Half a dozen. Written to lackeys in your hand. Dates line up real nice and neat. Every little life crushed before it could even thrive because the goddess of childbirth and fertility deemed it so.”

She had grown closer to Hera, enough to throw the letters at her feet. Hera had the decency to look slightly appalled. 

“You murdered my children. I ain’t got proof of it yet, but I’m pretty sure you nearly cost me my marriage, too. And for what?” Persephone could feel the anger radiating from her in waves; if anything remotely green and living within her vicinity had existed, it would surely be brown and ashen by now. Dead. “You’re a monster. And you’re lucky I don’t make you eat the ground beneath me and grind your face into the mountain from here to the bottom.”

Her gaze went sharply to Zeus, who was watching with a mixed expression. 

“Deny Eurydice, reverse my choice. Strip me of my powers. And I’ll consider these letters as a threat of war. Hades agrees. You came for us, our family, our realm. Whether you were in on it or not.” Persephone’s teeth grit together as she glared at her father. “Go against this - or even think of laying harm to her or Orpheus or anyone else I love, and consider the underworld borders closed. No one in or out. Mortals will riot as their loved ones rot and their souls wander your realm. And they’ll go from worshipping you to cursing your temples near and far.” 

Her smile was dark, wicked, an expression learned from her husband. 

“And in case you decide it’s worth the cost - just remember. Hades and I are the only protection you have from the monsters in Tartarus. I can’t promise one or two might not somehow get out should there be any sort of war. So by all means. Try. Us.”

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Unforeseen and Unforesaken

Chapter 5 in Dove’s debut story is now live! Anyone like Teen Titans OCs with social anxiety, connections to Azarath, magic, and a secret? (Story takes place in a world that blends 80′s New Teen Titans canon with the 2003 cartoon, heavier on the latter.)

And then, voice low, hanging back for a moment of discussion, Robin reminded them: "We still don't know if Dove is who she says she is. This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about her. And the sooner she settles in her own space, the sooner she'll be comfortable enough to talk to us."

An old friend, Dove’s avian companion, arrives on the island, and after their reunion, Raven helps Dove retrieve a box of items forgotten in the forest. 

Really? Dove reportedly had a violent premonition of utter devastation, the instantaneous death of a thousand people at the hands of an other-dimensional demon, and in response to such a dire threat, Dove had chosen to rescue that?

Then, arranging Dove’s room turns into a team effort complete with stories of Dove’s family history, while Dove unveils relics of her life in Azarath.

Nobody would deny that affixing wallpaper was much easier when you had two teammates in the air, a geographically calibrated laserpoint that doubles as a leveling beam, an octopus, and a grappling gun. 

Fanfic.net and AO3 links here: https://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/post/627828457818226689/unforeseen-chapter-5-links

Chapter 5: Home Improvement

"Raven?"

Dove's quiet voice broke the silence of their coached meditation session gently—though when Raven opened her eyes, Dove was scrambling up and looking outside with her face practically pressed against the glass.

"Can we go outside?"

"I thought we agreed on two full hours of meditation," Raven sighed. It had hardly been a half hour—

"I already meditated this morning," Dove answered distantly, obviously distracted.

Raven looked up at her in genuine confusion. If it was such a struggle for her, more practice couldn't hurt. But... "Why didn't you tell me you already finished?"

When Dove looked over her shoulder, her chin was dipped timidly and her voice even more fragile than before. "Because I... like meditating with you...?"

"And why is that?"

"It's easier," Dove shrugged, eyes dropping in embarrassment. "Your calm is so... perfect. So steady. A lot deeper than mine..."

...well, she supposed there could be worse reasons... Still debating on whether she wanted to allow this flexibility in their training schedule, or if that would undermine the concept of discipline, she asked, "Why do you want to go outside?"

"Sieara."

"Sieara," Raven repeated flatly.

"Yes, Sieara! Raven, I think she's out there!" The excitement in her voice was subtle but genuine.

"And you want to check?"

"Yes! I—" Dove bit her lip, practically plastering herself against the window again. "We have a bond. A connection. Like the one I had with my mother, except—" She cut herself off there and shook her head before she could tempt any memories, or emotions. "I'm worried about her, Raven. She... She feels weak, and... I..." There her voice trailed off uncertainly, and she turned to her trainer, deferring to her permission but also with a thinly veiled plea and concern in her eyes.

Something instinctive told Raven it was warranted. "I guess. Just don't make a habit of interrupting training. These sessions are important."

Dove nodded swiftly and practically ran to the door—though she had to pause there because she barely knew how to get to the living room, and she hadn't gone back to the entrance since the moment she set foot in here. She had to wait for Raven to lead.

Luckily Raven seemed to pick up on her urgency and led them to the door with a hurried pace, but the moment they were outside Dove's eyes were wide and alert, and she turned left immediately and shot off, stumbling once on the unfamiliarly rocky slope but she managed to keep her balance. "I think she's this way!"

"Don't get too excited," Raven reminded her, following just quickly enough to keep up.

"But, Raven, she's—!" Dove's expression sank and her heart clenched when they neared the shore—and neared the small spot of white against the deep green and brown of the earth. "She's hurt..."

The bird was laying still on the rock, eyes open, but her chest heaving quickly under disheveled feathers and she seemed to blink her eyes on every other breath.

"How hurt?" Though empathy could have told her enough, Raven was busy focusing on the waves of emotion shifting through Dove's mind. Hesitance and investigating disbelief, quickly overruled by elated relief and frightened worry playing tug of war on a field of affectionate love.

She didn't know it was possible to feel so much for such a small bundle of feathers... but Dove obviously did. Even though she bit her lip and breathed through her nose, still smiling but trying not to feel too frightened or excited.

"Sieara, thank Azar you're alive..." She was afraid to pick her up, but she reached out and stroked her feathers, and the frail bird stirred at her touch before letting out a weak and smooth chirrup.

"...hurt," Dove analyzed, physical contact clarifying the empathy just well enough that she could interpret what her senses told her. "One wing's hurt... and she's so scared. I think something tried to attack her, and she crashed when she tried to land... Raven?"

Dove looked up, and Raven looked up as well. Something about the bird's mind seemed... strangely human, but before she could dwell, she read the hesitant hope in Dove's eyes, and sighed. "I can help," she consented. Animals felt pain and fear as much as any human, Raven knew that—and they could be healed just the same, too.

So she picked up the bird, exhausted and weak, but very much alive, and they attempted to heal her. (Or, Raven healed her while Dove tried, then failed, and thanked her profusely and focused on choking back tears of relief.)

The moment she could stir without her breast bone aching, Sieara blinked up at Raven, as if startled, then she wriggled energetically in the empath's hands, reaching for Dove immediately. Raven let her go; the bird fluttered straight to Dove's shoulder; and Dove's eyes lit with joy and unending relief.

She immediately reached up to stroke her. "I missed you," she crooned softly, letting the bird settle close against her neck. It was so good to feel her claws gripping her shoulders again, so good to have her oldest friend back after being separated and so, so very worried.

Crisis averted, there was time for observations and questions. Like any other Azarathean dove, Sieara was just small enough to fit in Raven's cupped hands, not nearly the size of a Jump City pigeon but still larger than most doves. And her feathers had looked pure white, except for the flash of purple Raven swore she saw when Sieara took flight. That wasn't normal. And something about it reminded her of... magic?

Dove glanced up when she felt the subtle shifts in Raven's guarded mind. "You... can probably tell she's not really a normal bird," she suggested uncertainly.

Raven nodded.

Dove went back to stroking the bird, affection and fondness in her eyes even as they went distant with memory. "She's not. Not anymore. Srentha put a spell on her," she explained. "That was my friend, Srentha... He made it so she could think like a human and understand more of our world... And he changed her tail, just for fun. So now her tail changes color with her emotions. Azar's magic and all... It was amazing what he could teach me in just ten minutes..." Dove sighed at a lighthearted memory of him showing her a simple illusion spell, grinning at the memory of his wild, silvery hair glowing with a green-golden tint and his utter elation at such a simple wonder.

The dove nibbled her hair, tugging her back to Earth. Lovingly.

Dove blinked. "Now she's... more intelligent than most birds. He made it so she'd glow if she was near anything magical. And cast a spell that allows her to sense magic and track it, and so many other things he never had the chance to explain..."

Magically enhanced mind or not, Raven groaned internally at the thought of having yet another pet roaming the Tower. "Just don't expect me to clean up after her."

Since then, the loyal bird never seemed to leave Dove's shoulder—except to sleep of course (and even that was speculation). It was like she was afraid to lose her again.

But for the moment:

An awkward, concerned glance across the river shifted Dove's attention from the bird. "Um, while we're out here... I did leave a box of things in the forest..."

"And you left them all the way in the forest, because?"

"I thought they were safe. And... I, kind of... forgot."

"How, exactly?"

Dove shrugged, too uncomfortable to meet her eyes. "I hadn't slept well. I had a nightmare, and... and I just wanted to get there—Get here. And by the time I remembered, I-I was already an entire day away. I thought I could go back, and, and get them, eventually..." Distant, somehow fragile helplessness came into her as the words trickled to a stop for a beat of withdrawn silence, until her voice murmured forth like a haunted shadow of what her explanation had been.

"Those things didn't seem important, when I thought I was going to die."

Raven's eyes shifted from bored, to... dare she admit it, sympathetic? "If you chose to bring them across the dimensional boundaries, they must be pretty important."

Dove nodded.

"Well? Where are we going?"

Dove blinked up from her introspective trance. "Uhhhm... Across the city..."

Had she already forgotten how far that was? "We'd better start walking."

That signature uneasiness was back yet again. "Oh. Uhhm... Yeah."

Twenty minutes of walking later, when they'd barely stepped off the bridge, Raven knew Dove really wasn't kidding about that whole "not good with people" thing. Hiding behind her, fleeing their gaze, ducking out of sight... and they hadn't even crossed the beach.

"We'll never get there at this rate."

Dove's gaze fell under the weight of embarrassment. "Sorry..."

"You have got to stop saying that."

(She just pulled her cloak and shoulders in tighter.)

"Maybe we should circumvent the city."

Raven used this as an opportunity to help Dove with her levitation problems, but it ended in disaster; Dove couldn't get in the air, couldn't ease her nerves, couldn't even move straight... and then nearly knocked herself out trying to land in the forest between two trees, and only making it into the first.

Poor Sieara had shot from her perch and was fluttering anxiously from branch to branch, curr-cooing worriedly until Dove opened her eyes.

Once they were sure the crash didn't result in a concussion, Raven helped Dove carry the wooden container into the Tower, both girls using telekinesis—well, mostly Raven; Dove spent most of the journey nearly dropping herself to the ground, she couldn't possibly hold up the box too.

But they made it back alive.

Once they were in her room, safely grounded, Raven watched Dove kneel beside the crate, her eyes distant and her hand resting on its lid.

"Aren't you going to unpack it?"

Dove asked, "Where would I put everything?"

"Good point," Raven conceded after scanning the empty room. "Any ideas?"

Dove blinked up at her in confusion. "For what?"

"Shelving. Tables. Places to put your precious... things. Setting up the room, to be your room."

Dove's eyes lit up—she had never been able to change her surroundings, personalize any place she lived... She never even had her own room before! "Um... I think so. Yeah, actually."

But where to begin?

Only another moment's hesitation, and Dove voiced that she might, maybe, need a shelf? "I used to read three new books every week," she told Raven. "I love reading..."

The gaze Raven responded with was uncertain, half understanding, half bewildered.

They seemed more similar every day.

"Until you have books to fill it with..."

They later moved forward at Robin's suggestion: Using a catalog to find and order her decorations. It didn't take long for everyone to notice Dove's choices were based on peace, safety, and security, no physical thing in particular. Dove wanted it to remind her of Azarath. Which made it a lot harder for the others to make suggestions, but Dove seemed quite certain of what "like Azarath" entailed.

Raven seemed to mysteriously disappear before Dove could explain to the others exactly what Azarath was like, and Dove's throat closed around any attempt to talk about it, anyways.

Everyone had downtime when the shipment arrived, and so Robin called it moving day.

"Is the Moving Day yet another one of your Earthly hollering days?"

Robin explained patiently: "It's not a holiday, Starfire. It just means we're going to help Dove move her new things in."

Beast Boy groused, "When did it become moving day?"

And Robin leveled, "When the shipment arrived and proved we need to help Dove assemble everything she ordered."

"But we had a five-hour gaming marathon scheduled for two o'clock!"

"Yeah, and it's almost two o'clock!" Cyborg tapped the digital readout on his wrist.

Their leader checked the other two before elaborating; Raven was thoroughly engaged in lecturing Dove through another attempt at telekinesis with the smallest, lightest box, and Dove was indeed focusing on the task so hard, her steps were stiff with auto-piloting and tension.

And then, voice low, hanging back for a moment of discussion, Robin reminded them: "We still don't know if Dove is who she says she is. This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about her. And the sooner she settles in her own space, the sooner she'll be comfortable enough to talk to us."

Robin ran up to them eagerly. "Hey! It's best to leave the boxes out here. We should personalize the walls before you get the furniture in."

Dove looked almost as exasperated as Raven, and twenty times as breathless. "You mean... I brought—the boxes... up here, and we... We can't use them—?"

"Not now. But don't worry, it wasn't for nothing. It's just going to be a little later than you thought."

Raven said, "We could use the break."

(Dove sighed at her use of "we", wishing such a simple task hadn't been so frustrating.)

Robin quickly took the role of impromptu project manager, and everyone in the tower pitched in.

The first thing they changed when she moved in was the color; Dove preferred it to be soft on the eyes, with a dark blue carpet on the floor and the ceiling dark green with stick-on clouds, accented with a multi-colored galaxy on the wall opposite her window, a custom commission she had fallen in love with especially for its reminiscence of Azarath's skies. The moment her lamp was plugged in, she began to forgo the (recently-repaired) ceiling light entirely, and instead kept it lit by that soft, golden glow.

Nobody would deny that affixing wallpaper was much easier when you had two teammates in the air, a geographically calibrated laserpoint that doubles as a leveling beam, an octopus, and a grappling gun.

Dove, largely unable to fly, or move anything useful, or assemble shelving, or generally help in any way, didn't know what to do and mostly stood off to the side awkwardly... until, at Robins' suggestion, she drew up a vague yet surprisingly recognizable draft of the furnished room in the pen and notepad he produced from his belt, with labels to give them an idea of their goal.

Then it was time to assemble the shelves. Beast Boy nearly tripped over the crate while handing Robin a screwdriver and danced around it with the slightest flail of his arms. "Hey, what's in this box?"

Dove pulled it into her lap and sat on the bed. "Well..." She began unpacking its contents—thus revealing the contents of her previous life.

A knee-jerk surge of pragmatic responsibility rose in Raven's mind: We should probably get back to work...

...but a moment later her curiosity and suspicion won out; she couldn't help wanting to learn everything she could about the younger Azarathean.

The first thing Dove took out (and held with the most careful and reverent touch) was a small golden statue of an Azarathean dove. The base curved out like the foot of a wine glass and fit perfectly cupped in Dove's palm. The bird had its wings outspread, and they were so meticulously detailed, the individual feathers shined clearly, with its fanned tail making it seem like the bird would soar right from Dove's hand as she held it on her open palm.

Really? Dove reportedly had a violent premonition of utter devastation, the instantaneous death of a thousand people at the hands of an other-dimensional demon, and in response to such a dire threat, Dove had chosen to rescue that? Raven couldn't wrangle her disbelief. "Why would you bring something so... small?"

The sincerity strengthening Dove's voice indicated no small significance. "It relaxes me, and helps me remember happier times... It was my mother's favorite, and mine, too. My grandmother added the base for my mother's hands. It was crafted from pure Azarathean gold, and decorated with textures that are just... so breathtakingly realistic; she carved it by hand and magic, Raven. Bringing it to Earth was like saving a piece of Azarath. And my mother. It... keeps me calm."

Raven could only wonder what it was like, to have so much sentiment attached to a family heirloom.

And... Had Dove really said so many words at once, without a single gasp or stutter? Maybe there really was some steadying magic in the little golden bird.

It seemed Dove was blissfully oblivious to her musing. But after another breath, gentle and sighing, she finally put the figure down (just beside her, right up against her leg), and pulled out a larger gold item wrapped in so much familiarly formative, grounding, internalizing magic, Raven's attention snapped raptly alert.

Dove was holding a mirror. A modestly-sized hand mirror, with a golden rim carved to look like outspread wings and the handle turned into an outspread tail. Closer inspection revealed gold-rimmed wood in a very delicate hue, carved with filamental mystic whorls arranged in layers of 3 reaching from the glass to its wing-tips and tail.

Raven's astonishment, and the immediate yelp and recoil Beast Boy and Cyborg performed in unison once they saw it, made Dove giggle a note or two, and she put it on the bedside table. A moment of consideration, and she told them, "My mother made it by hand, but used magic too..." Then she gave Raven a glance, with a sheepish, tiny grin, and a confession. "She heard about yours, how it helps you with meditation, and we both really liked the idea. Since it's... hard for me to meditate on my own..."

Next Dove pulled out a well-worn, hard-bound book with care and set it beside her on the bed. "My mother used to read it to me all the time..."

Two more books sat beneath it, and then Dove took out a gently-used journal, two notebooks both she and her mother filled, a tome she declared came from her grandmother, a few scrolls from the same woman, and a lightly used journal or two, the bound items sometimes small and seemingly insignificant, but always inked with Azarathean calligraphy.

"For poetry, not agenda, or... keeping track of all the bad things that happen," Dove explained quietly. "Nothing special..." She sighed, then took out the rest of the box's contents: another book, a few crumbling leaves with a refreshing scent, and a bag of dried vegetables and grains for Sieara. And then the box was empty.

"These things bring back so many memories... I just wish I wasn't in such a rush to get out of there and had said goodbye to Srentha."

"At least you weren't killed by—"

"I know," Dove cut her off hurriedly, almost CHOKED it, as if the thought stung her. "But it still hurts to know I'll never see him again..."

Raven echoed, "Srentha. Why does that name sound familiar?"

"You lived in the temple, right? He was the high-magistrate's grandson."

"I... didn't even know Coman had a child, let alone a grandchild."

"Me neither, until Srentha showed up. He spent most of his life training in the libraries, locked away from the rest of the world..."

Raven sensed an aching pain, a loneliness so deep it had to have come from shared experience. Her brows contracted with her own empathy, ever so slightly.

"Srentha was like a brother to me... but, now, all I have left of him is my memories."

"Hold them close," Raven advised calmly. "They're as precious now as they were then."

Dove nodded—glanced away...

She was looking for a distraction. Seeing wisdom in that, Raven offered, "We should probably put these away."

Dove nodded and picked up the books before setting them on the single bedside shelf. Then she took the statue and the ingredients in her hands thoughtfully, and put the ingredients on the middle shelf, the statue next to the books.

She continued her impromptu stories as she set them in place. "My grandmother wrote this one. She was very powerful with magic, and she was even an advisor to our leader, but she caused too many arguments among the council, experimented with things we really weren't supposed to do, and she wound up exiled. So she wrote her experiments down here instead. She had kept it hidden away for years, until the Azaratheans banished her, and then, it was almost two decades before she sent it back 'home' in my mother's hands when she sent her back to Azarath. I inherited it the moment I knew, that... my mother was going to die. And... she knew I wasn't."

Nobody complained that she wasn't helping them, because it was keeping them all entertained. Who knew Dove had such a family history?

Dove's gaze was distanced, but a frail smile graced her lips, like she didn't mind recounting such stories one bit. "And this one..." She withdrew a small band in a bright golden yellow, runes inscribed on its outer surface—

Wait, Beast Boy knew that ring! His elephant form perked up just enough to bumble into the smaller shelf Robin was inspecting, they jumped back and it tottered—

"WHOOOA!" Cyborg cried out and braced to steady it. "Watch it, Dumbo!" He shot Beast Boy a disgruntled glare.

Beast Boy whirled back to human form and rubbed his neck. "Heh heh, my bad. So, uhh. Who else is thirsty?"

Robin looked over. "I could definitely use a drink."

Starfire chimed, "A glass of mustard would be MOST refreshing!"

He zoomed right out to prepare.

With a nod of approval at his and Cyborg's handiwork, Robin turned from the shelf to see what had distracted him... and he also recognized that decorated gold band immediately. "So. Another Ring of Azar, huh?"

"How did you get that?"

Dove cringed at Raven's sudden demand. "From Azar. It was treasured by my grandmother... Magena. That's who I told you about—"

"Why did you keep it?"

Dove's voice suddenly went very, very quiet. "It felt important. Like I needed it."

"What do you need with something that powerful?"

"Protection. Calm... Guidance. After my mother's—When she; I-I— I..."

Raven remained sharply withdrawn against the wall, arms crossed, head low. But her quiet voice was sharp and unyielding as steel.

"What do you know of protection?"

Dove's mouth hung open, speechless and helpless in the face of her honesty... until she just dropped her gaze, and surrendered to silence.

"Ooookay." The awkward tension was broken by Cyborg. "Things are gettin' a little heated in here."

"Who wants some nice, cold, fresh-from-the-fridge chilled-out iced tea!"

Beast Boy reentered with a big tray filled with overly sweetened lemonade and extra-cold, extra-iced iced tea.

The others took it readily, but he had to directly offer it to their new roommate. "Tea, right?"

Dove only took it because he offered so exuberantly, and she nodded, so he handed the glass off with an especially excited smile.

"Bet you've never had tea like that."

Which piqued her curiosity and led Dove to taste it once, twice—and then cough at how sweet it was until tea came dribbling out her nose.

Beast Boy promptly erupted in laughter, and Raven rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, Starfire sipped from her own glass of much thicker liquid, and with the room littered in empty boxes and packaging plastic, their mission for the day seemed to be completed. "Have we completed the improvement of your home to satisfaction?"

Dove nodded.

Cyborg's appraisal led to curiosity. "Now how is she going to fill a shelf that big with those tiny things?"

"Well," Raven offered, "she said she likes to read..."

"Ooh!" Beast Boy volunteered, "I have these awesome animal books I could show you!"

Dove tilted her head. "I liked a couple stories with animals."

Eyes shining, he smugly specified: "These aren't just stories, and they're all about the animals!"

Cyborg, in response to her blank-faced blinking: "What, you've never read a biology book before?"

Dove hesitated a moment, uncertain—then decided she must not have, and shook her head.

"What do you read?"

"I... like poetry, and mythology?"

Starfire leapt into the air, her smile ELATED! "Oh, I too enjoy the logging of myths, and rhyming words! There are so many beautiful and thrilling tales I can share from my home planet."

"I'd... like to read them... If that would be okay?"

Beast Boy nudged her. "Only if you want to spend like fourteen hours listening to the Tale of woober-snitzel or whatever."

Dove's face blanked. "Fourteen hours?"

"No exaggeration."

Robin suggested, "Maybe we'll take a trip downtown, show you the library."

Dove's eyes were then openly delighted, though her voice stayed modest as ever. "I think I'd like that. Can we go now?"

"The library won't be open when it's 11 at night."

Raven added, "And we do have a training session in seven hours."

Only the low-toned flatness in her voice betrayed her dread, but three of her four teammates groaned audibly.

"Guess we better get some sleep."

Robin stalled, "There's just one more thing." Dove watched quizzically as he rushed from the room, quickly becoming aware that she was the only one confused, and she almost started to dread his return.

But when he returned shortly, it was to offer her a pyramidal stack bound in ribbon with a big white bow in the center. "There's one from each of us."

Taking the pile from him revealed the stack to be five books. Dove's eyes were wide, her brow furrowed, and after pulling the ribbon aside, and staring at them in silent wonder, processing the shock and depths of gratitude, her arms wrapped around the small bundle, and she clutched them close to her chest. "Thank you. Thank you so much, I—I don't know what to say."

"Welcome home," Robin smiled.

She nodded, she smiled, and then she set them all on the shelf immediately, already debating which to read first.

As she stepped back to admire them, Cyborg surveyed the space. "Well, it's not exactly magazine material, but it's looking good."

Now that they finally finished setting up the small room, it was sparsely decorated but with plenty of personality. A big wall-sized shelf housed Dove's cherished books both old and new, a hanging censer from a new-age catalog awaited its smoldering incense, the small bedside table bore a drawer, her bed (and new rounded wraparound headboard) was centered on the back wall with a smaller shelf on its other side, and her big, thick black curtain was hung and prepared to cover the window behind it whenever she wanted to lock out the light.

Her shelves had a slight elegant curve to them (which to her felt like an homage to Azarathean architecture), and they were sparsely cluttered with books. Just a dozen now, but to her they meant everything in the world.

There was also her bed frame, of course, outfitted with a flat wooden headboard rising towards the ceiling, outlined with light gold accents, shaped into dual mounds that wrapped around the mattress with a peak between them, like a bird lifting its beak skyward, holdings its wings down and nearly embracing the mattress, calming and protectively. It surrounded a spacious queen-size with about five pillows and three separate blankets—Dove obviously treasured coziness and comfort. The bedside table was small and elegant with light decorations, silver and gold; her mindscape mirror rested on its surface, along with a notebook and pen, and inevitably it would hold a book she wasn't busy reading just then.

The whole place was very tidy, mostly because she didn't have much to clutter it with, and Dove imagined she would only ever use one thing at a time and tenderly set it back to safety at night, anyways.

It was wonderful. And Dove finally felt like, maybe, she could start to feel at HOME here.

"You'll feel just like a member of the team in no time."

Dove just bit her lip and shook her head slowly. She'd never dreamed they'd accept her so openly...

Then again, they didn't know what she had to hide.

[loxxxlay]

Since @iamanartichoke​ commented on my brief silly posts, now I kinda want to write some meta/analysis that’s been going through my brain on all the episodes so far because WOW i have a lot to say (and my mom is sick of me pausing every 10 seconds to rant it all at her instead lmfao).

(this ended up longer than I thought it would, sooooo we gonna break it up. If you don’t want this, then just blacklist #My Unhealthy Outlander Obsession

Outlander Meta #1: The Wedding Night where Claire and Jamie first have sex

So like yall know the trash that I write lmao. Y’all know how obsessed I am with exploring the boundaries of consent. The gray areas. (and sometimes the not-so-gray areas, rip, I’m insatiable).

For another fandom (in a fic I never posted), I wrote a sex scene that I wanted to be absolutely and obviously 100% consensual even though the situation was kinda uncomfortable and uncertain. And I remember writing this scene. How HARD it was to show Unmistakably Clear Consent on the sides of BOTH parties. It was almost like a battle of tug-of-war... or better, a scale - a scale where one side making one bold move, crossing one line, and displaying consent in doing so would cause the other side’s consent to suddenly teeter into question. And to compensate for the other side would be to again throw the original scale off-kilter once more, like over-correcting while steering a car. To get the perfect balance by the end of the sex scene is so difficult!!! >.>

because i know how hard it is, I was so damn impressed by Outlander’s similarly uncomfortable but 100% consensual sex scene. Jamie is the initiator (as in the person who moves into initiate the kiss or the sex or the touch). Twice he moves in, and both times, Claire interrupts him from doing so, displaying her discomfort (even if subtly). Both times, Jamie listens. This gives the viewer the needed confidence that Claire does say something when she’s uncomfortable and that Jamie does listen and stop when she wants him to. With that confidence, we can believe, when Jamie moves in the third time and Claire allows it, that Claire is consenting. Because we know what her lack of consent would like like. She’s shown us twice.

For the next few exchanges, it is Jamie’s consent we might worry about. However, in the way he acts it - the trembling, the heavy breathing, the growing bold lines he crosses - we can tell he is enjoying it. He holds Claire tightly and kisses her fiercely. It is clear in that body language that he wants this. He might not have wanted to marry her, but he is very much wanting to have sex with her now. 

However, with his fierceness, it teeters the scale once more - is Claire okay with the pace? Is Claire still consenting? Would Claire still say no? At the exact moment I personally start to become uncomfortable, the camera gives a glimpse of their feet while they kiss. It’s a fucking brilliantly subtle detail to show Claire’s consent. We see how, while they kiss, she stands on her tiptoes to lean into it. It’s not a fierce, overpowering move like the way Jamie’s consent is shown, but it is a quite, subtle, incredible gesture that reassures us that she is enjoying this too. 

And since it is so quiet and subtle a detail, it does not throw Jamie’s comfort into question. In other words, the scale of their consent is balanced perfectly.

And now for some personal thinking and development on my part :D~~~:

This scene actually made me cry. Not because I thought it was cute or romantic (sappy romantic sex scenes usually bore me to tears, rather than thrill me lmfao). It was actually because... Well, since I’ve written a scene like this before, I know how hard it is to get the balance right. The fact that this episode got it right means that everyone behind it UNDERSTOOD. Everyone CARED. Getting the balance right was deliberate and considerate on their parts. The author’s, the editor, the director, the actors, everyone....

I was so tense while I watched this scene the first time. I remember being stiff as a board, on the edge of my seat, my hands clenched. 

I was afraid - that they would let me down. That part of the balance would be lost and I’d be unable to see it as anything other than another unintentionally written rape scene. I realized how jaded and cynical I’ve become. I’m afraid to let down my guard and trust that any fiction will actually do a scene like that justice. I didn’t even realize how much I’ve distanced myself from romance in tv shows, how much of a wall I put up whenever I see two characters have what is portrayed as consensual sex. 

To see her standing on her tiptoes and to have them finally achieve that balance? That was when I realized the presence of the wall I’ve put up - but also when I realized that I *can* let my guard down here. I *can* sit back and enjoy without some surprise upsetting me. I don’t have to live like this, at least for this one scene of this one show. For once, I was able to let go...

That was a really good feeling :’) <3

[kiribaku-trash]

Chapter Seven of an Explosive Tale of Love and Ships

Chapter 6, Chapter 8

Read it on AO3

Masterlist

(special thanks to @bs-squad for writing the part with all the flashbacks)

———————————————–

Mina had spent enough time working with Bakugou to know when he was bluffing. She had happily exited the ship with Kaminari, Sero, and Uraraka in tow, using her magic to propel them the extra distance to shore. The witch had remained silent during the entire exchange, she was probably waiting to see the outcome of the argument before speaking. Bakugou got into fights and arguments with his crew every other week so Mina wasn’t surprised that he’d started butting heads with Eijirou only a few days after the dragon joined the crew. Although, despite Bakugou’s temper, normally it took more than saying a quick ‘hello’ to get him that angry.

Mina sucked in a quick breath and stomped through the underbrush. Obviously she had seen the way Bakugou’s face turned bright red every time Ei got too close. She had originally thought that he just wasn’t used to the dragon’s lack of personal boundaries but now she wasn’t so sure. Bakugou wasn’t a very subtle person and it was easy for Mina to assume that maybe he liked Ei more than he let on. A lot more.

Shaking her head, Mina decided she was deep enough in the forest to let her glamour drop. With a wave of her hand she dissolved the magic, basking in the energy that was no longer spent keeping up her human appearance.

“I thought your magic felt different.” Uraraka said. “I never thought I’d see a faerie in person.” She paused. “Although I said the same thing about Kirishima-kun, didn’t I.”

“We should hurry,” Sero said, squinting up at the parts of the sky that were visible through the heavy canopy of leaves. “It’s getting dark.”

Kaminari nodded in agreement. “Any ideas where a dragon would- AHHH!”

Uraraka acted quickly, jerking out her hand just in time to release a wave of magic that pooled underneath where Kaminari was standing. He hovered a few feet from where he had been walking, a massive drop right beneath his feet. Kaminari face paled at the sight, and he sighed with relief as Uraraka pulled him back towards the group and dropped him to the ground.

“That was close,” Mina said. She approached the edge of the drop slowly, taking each step with precaution. It was a steep decline, covered in dead bushes and sharp stones. Except there was one part of the drop that had nothing except a trail of broken branches and upturned dirt. At the bottom sat two sets of footprints.

“Could that be him?” Kaminari asked, his voice shaking from his sudden brush with possible death.

Mina nodded slowly. “I don’t think anyone else would come down here this late.”

The group stood in heavy silence before Sero finally spoke.

“Except for whoever left those prints.”

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

Momo let out a deep sigh of relief as the Barbarian King was hauled onto the deck of the ship. She silently thanked whoever had designed it for including the added feature of a net. She was lucky enough that a few seconds after being pulled above the surface, Bakugou immediately began coughing up water and gasping for breath. He wasn’t dead, which was always a good thing. Technically it wouldn’t have mattered, the conditions for his arrest were for him to be brought back dead or alive, but the thought of killing a former comrade (or anyone for that matter) gave Momo an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Bakugou met her gaze with an intense glare but it was hard for him to look intimidating with chattering teeth and sopping wet hair sticking to the sides of his face. Momo’s skin paled as he rose to his feet, directing his palm so it sat only a foot away from her face. Yellow sparks danced across his hand as his arm tensed, ready to fire. Momo prepared herself for the heat and fire and pain of being hit head-on by an explosion, except it never came. Bakugou looked as surprised as she did when only a small plume of smoke and steam rose from his palm. He wasted no time to try again, only to get the same effect.

Momo stared in disbelief at the Barbarian King and how easily a bit of water was able to weaken his explosions to the point of being almost nonexistent. Speaking of explosions, Momo studied Bakugou’s hands. The leather gloves he was wearing surely would have stopped the heat from getting through, or burned up in the process. A small gasp escaped her lips as she came to a realization.

“Remove the gloves,” she ordered her guards. “Those are what are causing his explosions.”

For some reason the Bakugou found her words funny. He barked out a harsh laugh and held out one of his hands, all while maintaining an intense eye contact.

“I’d like to see you try,” His voice had a slight rasp to it. It was probably caused by spending the past five minutes coughing up river water.

Momo’s scowl deepened as she observed her guard try and fail at pulling the glove from Bakugou’s hand. She motioned for the guard to move aside and tried herself, only proving her suspicions that some form of invisible (probably magical) force was keeping it held in place.

She scoffed at the Barbarian King’s triumphant smile. She would just have to hope the magic would remain weak until they arrived at the capital. “Take him to the brig.”

Bakugou’s smirk faded for half a second before he forced it back into place.

“Who the fuck even are you anyways?” He asked, struggling against the guards trying to ‘escort’ him below deck. “You look familiar.”

Momo held up her hand, the guards paused.

“You don’t remember me?” she asked. “We were in the same division. We trained together!”

Bakugou slowly shook his head. “I don’t have fucking time to remember the name of every extra who gets in my way.”

“Then remember mine.” Momo replied, staring him down with fierce rage. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo. One month ago I was sent on a mission to retrieve a dragon from a lost island. You may have heard about it.” Her gaze intensified as Bakugou’s lips curled into a deep frown. “I was given permission to obliterate anything that stood in my way. And that,” she said, pausing to draw her sword and point it the Barbarian King, “includes you.”

Bakugou growled at her. Momo sheathed her sword and turned away. “Get him out of my sight.” She listened to the sound of Bakugou’s struggling faded below deck and smiled, hiding a twinge of doubt. Her mission was finally nearing an end.

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

Eijirou knew that he shouldn’t have been surprised when Mina showed up in the mouth of the cave, followed by the rest of Bakugou’s crew.

“Ei!” She shouted at the top of her lungs the moment the two made eye contact.

Eijirou was frozen in place. He could feel the corner of his lips tugging upwards in a broad smile as he approached his pink friend. “Min-”

A wall of flame caused Eijirou to jump backwards.

“Don’t come any closer.” Todoroki threatened; his left side was smoking and Eijirou could feel blistering heat come off him in waves.

A high pitched squeak came from the other side of the room. Midoriya closed the space between him and Todoroki within a matter of seconds, grabbing the latter’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “Todoroki! What are you doing?”

Eijirou could barely hear the distant yells of his friends from the other side of the roaring flames.

“I told you we couldn’t trust him!” Todoroki yelled back. The flames grew in size, spitting red hot sparks in every direction. “They’re going to take us back!”

Midoriya squeezed Todoroki’s hand tighter. “Calm down, we can talk this out.”

“You don’t understand,” Todoroki’s voice shook.“My father will kill you if we go back.”

“Todoroki-” Midoriya paused, as if rethinking his words. “Shouto, you know I won’t let that happen.”

Todoroki clenched his jaw, averting his eyes from Midoriya’s gaze. Eijirou shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor, feeling as though he wasn’t supposed to be seeing such a close moment between the two.

With a heavy sigh Midoriya wrapped his arms around Todoroki. Eijirou felt the heat of the fire lessen, the wall of flame thinned enough for him to be able to see Mina’s pink skin on the other side.

Eventually the fire faded away entirely and Eijirou found himself sprinting over to the spot where Mina stood. He spread out his arms, about to wrap her in the biggest hug he could manage but was stopped in his tracks. Mina, Kaminari, Sero, and Uraraka all had their gaze trained on the red and white haired boy behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Eijirou asked, allowing his gaze to fall on Todoroki as well.

“That’s Prince Todoroki Shouto,” Kaminari said, shock forcing his voice to be no louder than a whisper. “He’s been missing for two years.”

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

Momo buried her head deep in her hands as she exhaled slowly. A nearby lantern swayed back and forth, casting ominous shadows across the room. She peeked through her fingers at the book layings in front of her. It’s worn cover stood out drastically against the pristine quality of everything else in the library.

Momo and her crew had arrived in the capital only a few hours ago. The moment they had docked they were immediately swarmed by crowds of commoners desperate to see the Barbarian King finally captured and ready to face the consequences of his actions. Although, after searching through pages and pages of history and records, Momo was beginning to wonder how many of said actions were actually performed by Bakugou himself.

With another heavy sigh she turned the page. The books itself was old, probably from way before she was born. It held records from all over the kingdom, most of them from the beginning of the war between Endeavor’s men and the old king. She scanned the paper with boredom, flipping the page once she reached the end of the text. She blinked in disbelief when she saw the title of the chapter before her.

‘Dragons, Faeries, and Other Magical Creatures.’

Bakugou wasn’t the only person Momo was trying to find out about. The pages fluttered with soft crinkles as she searched through the chapter until she found what she was looking for. It was only a short paragraph, but it was still enough to give her some insight on the creature she had been hunting;

‘After making deals with many leaders of the various flocks of dragons located throughout our kingdom, The Flame King used them to win the ongoing civil war between him and All Might. Although, The Flame King refused to keep his end of the deal, instead, using his newfound power over the kingdom to drive the dragons past its borders. There are rumours that a single dragon was caught and is currently being held by the king but there are no ways of verifying the information.’

Momo’s mind drifted back to the broken chains scattered across the floor of the tower. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“You should be sleeping.” A tired voice rang through the library, making Momo nearly jump out of her skin.

“Aizawa-sensei!” Momo addressed her former mentor with surprise. “I didn’t notice you.”

Aizawa simply nodded at the remark. “I couldn’t get the gloves off.”

Momo’s face fell. Aizawa was one of the best magic users in the kingdom (mainly because the rest were executed) and if he couldn’t break the curse on the gloves, no one could.

“I did manage to temporarily disable the explosions.” He continued, eyes drooping with tiredness. “I’m going to go take a nap.”

Momo rubbed her own eyes once Aizawa had left. She had been so focused on her research that she hadn’t even noticed the hours that had gone by. One look out of a small window behind a bookshelf told Momo it was the middle of the night. She rose from her chair and trudged drowsily back to her room. It was going to be a long week.

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

Katsuki clenched his fists at his sides as he watched the steady rain drops outside the small barred window in his cell. It was the middle of the night but he refused to sleep, opting to use all of his time to figure out a plan of escape. One would think that after seven hours with nothing to do but think, that Katsuki would have figured something out. But he had achieved nothing but a few bruised knuckles and a shallow crack in the wall in front of him.

A strangled sound escaped Katsuki’s throat as he fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands. He had no way to escape, he’d tried everything from breaking the bars to trying to fit out the window. Nothing had worked. His only hope would be that someone would come rescue him, but he doubted it. For the first time in his life he was beginning to regret his actions. He knew that he drove everyone away but for some reason he had thought that Kirishima would be different. He was stupid for trusting anyone, especially someone he had barely met.

Katsuki was dragged out of his train of thought by the sound of a door opening and shutting. Footsteps echoed from the stone floor. Katsuki straightened his back and morphed his face into the most defiant expression he could muster as a single person approached the bars.

“Bakugou,” Yaoyorozu said; her voice shook slightly and she avoided making eye contact with him. “I’ve just been informed that your execution has been scheduled for three days from now.”

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

A smile crossed Eijirou’s face as he watched his two, newly made, friend groups collide. He was excited to go on whatever journey they were about to embark on. Although, he could feel an emptiness growing inside of him. A void that Bakugou had left when the two had split up that he couldn't fill.

“Is everything okay?” Mina’s cheery voice rang through the air.

Eijirou put on his best impression of a smile before answering the faerie. “Yeah, I just wish Bakugou was here.”

“Why.” Mina’s voice turned dark. “He was a total dick to you.”

Eijirou shrugged. He decided against continuing the conversation.

“Are you two talking about Bakugou Katsuki?”

Eijirou exhaled deeply through his nose. Despite only knowing Midoriya for less than two days, Eijirou had quickly learned that he had some of the worst timing in existence.

“Uh, yeah.” Mina replied. “Do you know him?”

Midoriya laughed nervously. “Me and Kacchan used to be…” He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to think of the right word to use. “...friends.”

Mina blinked in surprise. “You were friends?!? With Captain ‘I hate everyone, bow down before me extras’ Bakugou?!”

Midoriya nodded. “Yeah. Me and Kacchan used to be part of the royal guard until King Endeavour came into power. Kacchan left before me, then I left with Todoroki-kun.”

“Wait, Bakugou was in the royal guard?!” Eijiro exclaimed.

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t know that Ei.” Mina said. “Bakugou was a soldier in the guard, but he left pretty early. Couldn’t stand the guards, absolutely despised King Endeavour, and overall had a deep fascination with magical objects and artifacts and left to hunt the seas. I don’t know too much about his early life since he’s quiet about it, but I know snippets of rumours from my time roaming the kingdom before I joined the crew.” She laughed. “You’ll never believe how I joined the crew, Ei. What do you think happened? Here’s a hint: I was the last member to join before you, and it has something to do with me being a faerie.”

“Is that why he let you join? Because you’re magic?” Eijiro tried.

Mina shook her head. “Nope. I was being chased out of a village by some angry folks who found out I knew magic, and I ran into Bakugou when he was being chased by his own mob who had recognized him as the Barbarian King. We kinda just looked at each other before nodding and he let me onto the boat. Never asked questions, just let me join the crew as long as he could boss me around and captain.”

“Are we talking about how we first joined the crew?” Sero butted into the conversation, along with Kaminari and Todoroki.

Mina nodded.

Sero cracked his knuckles. “Then do I have a story for you. I was actually the first member of Captain’s crew. It all started back when the Cap got his ship…or should I say stole...”

**********************************************************************************************************

3 YEARS EARLIER…

The sun glistened off the water as the Dragon sailed through the sea, sending up a spray of white mist. Sailors bustled around the deck as the ship entered a narrow passage between two cliffs and carefully navigated the channel.

“A’right ya mangy mutts, ‘isten up.” growled the captain of the ship, an older man with a tangled beard. “We’re c’ose to the next port, but this here channe’ is a fine commonground for fi’thy thieves and pirates, so aye want all hands on deck and ‘ookout. Is that c’ear?!”

“Aye, Captain.” the crew echoed back.

Despite the best efforts of the crew, however, disaster still managed to strike that day. As they turned the corner, a ear shattering yell of ‘DIE’ echoed between the cliffs and a lone figure leaped onto the ship. His presence was impressive and commanding, and he drew two sharp swords from his belt.

“Alright you extras, listen up!” he shouted. “This ship belongs to me now! Get out now or dare challenge me. Only one way you’re getting out alive, and it ain’t through the challenge.”

The captain gave a boisterous laugh. “Why should we ‘isten to you-”

There was a flash of metal, and the tangled beard of the captain fluttered to the floorboards of the deck. He raised a hand to his freshly shaven chin in shock, his face going pale.

“Why?” growled the loner. “I’m Katsuki Bakugou, the Barbarian King. Now. LEAVE.”

The captain gulped and jumped overboard. The rest of the crew looked at each other before following suit. Those stubborn enough the refuse quickly got a boot to the face that shoved them overboard too.

Finally, there was only one member of the crew left; a tall, skinny guy Bakugou’s age, dressed in a plain white and brown sailor suit like some bartender or adventurer. With a shit-eating grin on his face, he casually spun the wooden wheel of the ship.

“When I said everybody, I meant everybody, extra.” Bakugou snapped. “Get off.”

“Oh, I totally would.” the crewmate said cheerfully. “But I’m just concerned over one thing. How are you-” he spun the wheel lazily- “gonna steer a ship by yourself?”

Bakugou opened his mouth to reply before stopping, his hand raised. “I-”

“Don’t care who you are or how great you may be,“ the crewmate interrupted, “you ain’t captaining a ship without a crew. So, wanna reconsider that little order? Cause I’ll happily jump overboard if you think you can make it to the next town without sinking. But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, a glittering spark of white in a pool of liquid obsidian. “You can’t go into that town over pretence of being spotted. You’ll have to sail even further by yourself. So, wanna let me join your crew?”

Bakugou grudgingly nodded yes.

“Cool.” the crewmate smiled. “I’m Sero Hanta, at your service, Captain.”

**********************************************************************************************************

“You outsmarted Kacchan???” Midoriya asked in disbelief.

“Yep, first (and only) time.” Sero said proudly.

“That may be cool and all,” Kaminari said with a sly grin, “but did you outsmart two people when you first joined?”

“Wait, did you convince both Sero and Bakugou to let you join?” Eijiro asked.

“Not exactly, but sortoff. Let me tell you the story…”

**********************************************************************************************************

2 YEARS and 49 WEEKS EARLIER…

It had been a couple of weeks since Sero had joined Bakugou’s crew. They docked at a village port to gather some supplies for their first hunt for a magical item after finally getting their first proper lead.

“Guard the ship, Soy-Sauce, I’m going into town. Don’t burn the ship down while I’m gone, and don’t let anyone on.” Bakugou growled.

“Aye, Captain.” Sero pulled up the ramp as Bakugou stormed down the dock.

Sero grabbed a mop and cleaned the deck from the dusty prints of Bakugou’s constant stomping. He hummed a jolly sailor tune as he worked, stopping from time to time to glance around the ship and at the empty dock as lookout. Birds flew overhead, their wingbeats like the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. A brown feather fluttered down from the sky at one point and smacked into his face; he spat it out and let it glide float onto the soft rolling waves before continuing to mop.

When he finished, he stepped back to the wheel and smiled in satisfaction. The deck sparked in the sunlight, gleaming like the treasure they would hopefully find.

“Hey, SOY-SAUCE!” Bakugou’s voice echoed around the dock. “I’m back!”

Sero dropped the ramp and Bakugou climbed aboard, holding a box of supplies. “We need a signal for that so it looks professional, like an arm signal or something.” he muttered, dropping the box on some crates as Sero pulled the ramp back up. “You mopped the deck, good. Let’s go, I don’t want to be fucking spotted. Set a course for our next destination.”

“Oooh, that sounds fun, where’re we going?” a voice from above called.

Bakugou and Sero’s head shot up. Leaning over the side of the crow’s nest was a young guy their age. His joyful grin and golden eyes was hidden in the shade of a robin-hood hat tipped with two brown feathers, and he was wearing falconer inspired outfit complete with gloves.

“Wh- HEY! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! GET THE FUCK OFF MY BOAT!” Bakugou yelled, reaching into his belt for one of his swords before realizing he didn’t bring them into town.

The stranger grabbed one of the ropes and swiftly slid down the sails, landing lightly on the deck of the ship in a matter of seconds. He flicked a feather from his shoulder and stuck out a hand for a handshake.

Bakugou and Sero simply stared at him. Bakugou scowled and crossed his arms, waiting for a response.

“Alrighty then, no handshake I guess.” the stranger shrugged. “Oh well, your loss. I’m Kaminari Denki, traveller extraordinaire! Cool boat. Where’re we headed first?”

“We? ‘You’ are getting the fuck off this boat. How the hell did you get on in the first place?” Bakugou growled.

“Yeah, I never saw you sneak aboard.” Sero added.

“Oh, I have some experience.” Kaminari grinned. “So, we headed out or nah? Doesn’t matter where, I just like to… keep moving, ya know?”

“What, are you dense, idiot? Get the fuck off my ship before I throw you off myself.” Bakugou snarled. “Yo Soy-Sauce, retrieve my swords.”

“I dunno Bakugou, he could be useful on the ship.” Sero said. “A scout, or- well, I guess I’m technically the navigator, but-” Bakugou glared at him with enough anger to make a dragon back down. Sero gulped. “Aye, Captain.”

As Sero retreated belowdecks, Bakugou turned his death glare toward Kaminari. The traveller shifter his weight nervously, his eyes darting between Bakugou and the dock like he was suddenly regretting recent choices.

“You’re Katsuki Bakugou, the Barbarian King, right? The wanted guy hunting for illegal magical artifacts? Rumor said you got a ship and a crew.” Kaminari said.

Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “What’s it to you? I could easily destroy you without breaking a fucking sweat, don’t think you could turn me in to the royal guards.”

Kaminari raised his hands. “Who said anything ‘bout the royal guard, Blasty?”

“BLASTY?!-” Bakugou sputtered.

“Point is,” Kaminari interrupted, “I like gathering magic on my travels too. Doesn’t make me too popular with the hierarchy. I’ve always wanted to sail as part of a crew. Thought it would be an exciting adventure. I saw your ship in the port and was hoping I could... join?”

Bakugou laughed. “Join? I already have one extra sailing on my ship. I don’t need two.”

Footsteps pounded on the wooden stairs, and Sero climbed up from below deck.

“Finally.” Bakugou grumbled, grabbing his swords. “Alright idiot, time to get the fuck off my boat so we can leave.”

“I mean, he could be useful, Captain.” Sero said. “Operating a ship with only two people is a little ridiculous.”

“Yeah!” Kaminari said. “I know how to handle sails in the wind, and I’m a trained scout. I also have my fair share of travelling: come from a small village in the mountains, unique variety of skills, that sort of thing.”

“Fine, I’ll say that’s useful.” Bakugou said. “But what would you do if you were confronted by a royal guard like this-!”

Bakugou thrusted the point of his curved sword under Kaminari’s chin. With lightning reflexes the traveller grabbed something from the fold of his jacket, and a wailing screech filled the deck as metal met metal. Kaminari deflected the blow and stepped back, spinning the dagger in his hand.

“I’d probably do this, possibly with some screaming and dual wielding if I had to. I’m trained in combat, specifically daggers and the art of origami!” Kaminari grinned, flipping the dagger in the air and catching it.

“The art of… paper folding?” Sero asked.

Kaminari blinked, a soft red blush filling his face. “I… I didn’t think you’d know that.”

“Alright, so you can fight. Why the hell do you want to join our crew?” Bakugou growled. “You said it yourself, we’re dangerous outlaws hunted by the Royal Guard.”

Kaminari shrugged, his eyes darting once more to the port then back at Bakugou. “Like I said, I’m not too popular with the hierarchy. Pretty much an outlaw myself. I have the same goal as you: hunting magical artifacts. Plus I just really love travel, and the sea is something that is just full of cool adventure, ya know?”

“ Come on Captain, it’s so boring being a one-man crew for you.” Sero pleaded. “Let him join.”

Bakugou sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fucking fine.” he grumbled.

Kaminari and Sero cheered. Bakugou turned his back to them, not letting them see the ghost of a smile that hung on his lips. He stared off to the port, and froze, the faint smile dropping. A trio of royal guards were making their way up the dock, searching each boat carefully.

“Shit.” Bakugou hissed. “Yo, idiots, shut up for a sec. Soy-Sauce, get the boat ready and set sail immediately. New guy, Sparky-” Kaminari gave an indigent yelp as Bakugou slapped a hand to his back and pushed him toward the mast. “Get your ass in the crows nest. Royal guards are coming.”

Kaminari paled, and he laughed nervously as he scooted up the side of the wired netting. “That might, um, be my fault. I kinda stole the Lemillion Amulet from the guard post in town.”

Bakugou stared at him. “You… stole… a magic item from-” he looked over at the three guards, who were coming closer, “fuck, from the Big Three, some of the top guards, and got away?!”

“It was going to be melted into gold! It’s a magical artifact with a deep history, not a piece of scrap metal!” Kaminari protested. “I wasn’t just going to let it happen. I didn’t know it was the Big Three, I just snuck in and slipped away!”

With a lurch, the ship pulled out of the port, Sero at the wheel. Kaminari braced himself, scooting up a little higher in case Bakugou was going to explode. Instead, the captain smirked. “You might have a use on this crew after all…”

**********************************************************************************************************

“No way, you stole the Lemillion Amulet from right under the Big Three without getting caught?!” Midoriya cried, reaching for a notebook in his pouch.

Todoroki gently grabbed Midoriya’s hand and pulled it away from the pouch. “I must admit, that’s impressive. As is convincing the Barbarian King to let you join his crew.” He aimed that compliment at both Sero and Kaminari.

“Eh, it’s not that impressive.” Sero scratched the back of his head in prideful embarrassment.

“Are you kidding?!” Kirishima exclaimed. “That’s incredible! I can’t believe you guys are this awesome!” Both Sero and Kaminari blushed from the avalanche of compliments.

“It’s not- well-” they stammered as the others laughed.

“So, Midoriya,” Mina asked when the laughter died down and everyone sat down in front of the fire in the centre of the cave, “how’d you meet Bakugou for the first time, Midoriya?”

“Oh, it’s a long story.” Midoriya went to wave it off, but everyone leaned in closer, listening intently. “Well, okay, if you want to hear it. It’s was a long time ago, so long I never thought that part of my life would come up again. Yet I’m starting to get the sense that the story might not be quite over, but the beginning of a new chapter…”

[waywardangel-wilds]

A Girl, A Boy and Everything Else. Chp. 1 -Quiet-

This is based off an essay I read online on toxic masculinity, hegenomic masculinity and alternative masculinity. I don't know how successful I will be with properly conveing my thoughts here.

This is a growing together fic, there will be Everlark endgame. The whole thing I'm working through here is Katniss' acceptange of hegonomic masculinity and how that hurts her relationship with her husband. I'm trying to fix it, don't know if it'll work tbh.

It’s a rough draft at this point more than anything.

A Girl, a Boy and Everything Else.

Chap. 1: Quiet.

“Good evening,” Peeta’s gentle tone drifted to the parlor as he spoke softly to Sae at the front door.

           “Evening. I have to leave a little early tonight, there’s nobody home to put my granddaughter to bed.” Sae’s rougher voice answered. Pleasantries were exchanged and eventually the front door was closed.

           Katniss’ eyes didn’t move away from her window. She was watching the moon and Peeta never seemed terribly bothered if she made no eye contact during his visits. He understood her and her drifting. It was one of those infuriatingly likable things about him.

           Peeta’s steps caused the hardwood floors to creek. One step always heavier than the other due to his prosthetic. He turned on the lights as he went, picked things up off the floor as he encountered them.

           Once within the parlor, he sat on the arm chair to her left, far outside her field of vision. She could hear the chair groan under his imposing frame, as it was a diminutive thing. She could hear rustling and the clink of something against the glass coffee table.

           “I brought your medication for this week. I’ve been told that you need 500gm twice a day.” Katniss nodded to show him she was listening but her eyes didn’t turn away from the window. “there’s instructions within the bottles. Main thing though, how’ve you been today?”

           Katniss tilted her head slightly in a concessive manner, “nothing too… extreme?”

           “Hmm, that’s good. Feeling any better than yesterday?”

           Katniss’ eyes fell to her hands in her lap, they were tangled with the knitted blanket Sae had tucked around her before she left. “I don’t think there’s been any change really.”

           “That isn’t a bad thing. It’ll take some time.” She looked towards him then and he met her gaze and smiled. One could almost argue the war had never happened as he sat in her parlour, only nineteen, with a light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks which were pink from the cold. His looks were so deceivingly youthful, especially for a war hero.

           Peeta’s light brown eyebrows came together as he grew concerned for her, “is there something wrong?”

           She shook her head. “Just drifting.” Katniss paused momentarily as she focused on pushing the words out of past her lips, “would you sit with me for a bit?”

           She turned back to the window as Peeta came to sit next to her. He didn’t say anything, he wasn’t even close enough for her to really feel his proximity, so she reached blindly to hold his hand.

           Peeta’s hand patted hers gently, he felt very separate from her, which was something she didn’t think she would ever grow used to.

“Things are going to be okay, Katniss. Just give it time, you’ll see.”

 The next morning Katniss stopped by Peeta’s house, as she usually did after she hunted. Maybe she did it because she was so used to trading with his father for bread, or maybe she just wanted to visit him in a setting that didn’t feel as if he was taking care of an ill family member.

She entered his house through the kitchen door, which was located near the back of the house. She didn’t knock or announce herself in any way, as she never truly had.

Peeta wasn’t in the kitchen.

She stood there awkwardly for a moment, unused to him not being there, not simply anticipating her behaviour. Breaks in the routine of how their relationship functioned were rare and Katniss had never been the one who took the first step.

After a moment of further hesitation she dropped her game bag in his oversized sink and walked slowly into the main living space. She didn’t see him but she did hear his voice coming closer from somewhere deeper within the house but for some reason Katniss didn’t feel as if she should step any further upon his property.

Once he entered the room she could see that he was speaking on the phone, in fact he was saying a pleasant goodbye once his eyes landed on her. He smiled at her softly, purely as an acknowledgement, then wished whoever he was speaking to a good day and put the phone down on a nearby table.

“Hey Katniss” he came towards her and bumped her shoulder with his fist in a friendly manner. “You brought me something?”

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen when he walked past her. “Rabbit or duck. It’s your call.”

He was poking around at the sink, looking into her game bag as she came to stand near him. She crossed her arms and waited, her lips spasming into something like a smile when his gaze fell on her.

“I’ll take the duck.” He pulled the animal out by his legs and placed it on the counter next to him. He was asking her something about whether or not she would like to take some bread home, or the type of bread she wanted or something else when Katniss cleared her throat and managed to get her suddenly difficult hand to lightly grasp his elbow.

“Peeta, I-” Katniss’ eyes met his momentarily before she dropped them back to the empty space just to the right of his head. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to stay over at my house. Tonight.”

Peeta frowned and Katniss felt fearful of his potential response. “Oh. No, Katniss. I can’t do that.” He squeezed the hand that was still resting on his elbow. “I can stay with you until you fall asleep again but I can’t stay with you for the night.”

Katniss frowned as well and dropped her hand away from him. It wasn’t the first time she had implied he should stay with her a bit longer than he did during his nightly after diner visits. She assumed she was simply being too subtle but this was the first time he had ever rejected her outright.

She nodded and reached to pull her game bag out of the sink to make a hasty exit when Peeta paused her movements with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

“We should talk about this, it’s what Dr. Aurelious would recommend for you.”

She didn’t say anything at first. The only people who currently took her mental health with the appropriate seriousness it required were Peeta and the doctor himself. Maybe the war had turned her into a masochist but abruptly the only thing Katniss cared to know was what Peeta could possibly be thinking about her at that very moment.

“Okay.” Katniss put the bag back down in the sink. “I would like to talk about why you’ve been so distant with me ever since you came back to District Twelve.”

Peeta sighed, his eyes flashing across her face to take in her expression properly. He nodded and tugged her towards the little breakfast nook within his kitchen.

“It’s not that I’ve been distant-” Peeta began in a tone that implied one of his long speeches.

“But you have.” Katniss stated firmly as she sat of on the corner of the booth. Peeta touched her shoulder in what was sure to be a friendly gentle manner but she flinched away. “We’re supposed to be a team, aren’t we?”

           Peeta sat across from her and very purposely placed his hands upon the table. His gaze sought hers but every time she looked at him it felt like looking directly at the sun. “I’m not trying to be distant. I’m really not. I just want there to be boundaries between us, we need to understand what’s okay and what isn’t.”

Katniss raised her eyebrows almost mockingly, but she was honestly just surprised and perhaps a little wounded. “Was this Dr. Aurelious’s doing?”

“No.” Peeta reached for her hand but she placed them in her lap instead. “We did talk about boundaries, but he never said anything about me putting boundaries on you, just things I should be careful doing. Triggers, thing to watch out for.”                        “You think I’m a trigger?” Katniss asked.

“No. You’re not.” Peeta sighed and tapped his fingers against the table in frustration. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Katniss asked again, suddenly capable of summoning the force of will to pressure this information out of him.

“It’s… it’s me.” Their gazes met and he gulped. Why did it hurt so much to just look at him? “I want there to be boundaries. I care a lot about you, I always have and I always will. But after… everything that happened, I don’t think it would be good for either of us to be that way with each other anymore.”

“Good for you.” Katniss said in a mildly accusing manner, her tone was tired and almost uninterested.

“Maybe.” Peeta allowed, “I love you, Katniss. But, I know how things are. How they’ve always been. And I’ve always tried to give you what I can to make you happy and keep you safe but… you know I’ve never wanted to be something I’m not.”

Katniss was silent.

“Especially now, lying, I can’t do lying. It’s really dangerous for me. You know that.” He sighed again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I can’t do things like that with you, ever. I’ll always be your friend but anything that crosses that boundary… I can’t do it. I just can’t”

“We always had a very specific definition of friendship,” Katniss said cryptically. She didn’t immediately leave his house as something within her was insisting she do. Instead, she placed an elbow on the table and rested her head upon the palm of that hand. She looked over his kitchen.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “but things aren’t as intense now. We can be honest.”

Katniss nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Katniss looked over at him and saw his face looked troubled. Peeta had always been very open about his emotions, he never appeared ashamed of his sadness, or any emotion that may make him appear weaker. Katniss knew now that he was much stronger than her because of that.

“I love you too.” Katniss stood and nodded awkwardly at him, “I should go home.”

Peeta smiled but stayed put, “I’ll be over later.”

She nodded again and lingered slightly around his kitchen island before she gripped her game bag and strode quickly out of there.

As hard as she tried the severe aching she felt where her heart should be would not go away.

 That night, after Peeta’s nightly visit, Katniss closed every curtain in the living room and turned off all the lights in the house. Somehow she thought that if Peeta noticed she was awake from his house he would know what she was doing and come to check on her.

She sat down, turned on the television, and played the tape of the 74th Hunger Games.

Katniss hated everything that reminded her of the games. She hated how every single thing in that arena still haunted her, but for some reason, after seeing Peeta that day she simply needed to see these tapes again.

She was very quiet as the Career pack accompanied by Peeta filled her screen. It was the early days of their partnership. Cato was telling some story that would prove his masculinity reigned supreme. Peeta carried a dagger, he didn’t speak a word, and walked along looking attentive to every little sound in the woods.

Katniss paused the video to cry.

In the morning Sae made her some grain for breakfast.  Her granddaughter was playing some game she made up, dancer or princess, therefore she was spinning around the room and giggling.

Just looking at children hurt.

Sae sat at the table with her, her granddaughter climbed onto a chair to eat her breakfast as well.

“There’s talk about finding the District a new Mayor.” Sae said.

Katniss simply nodded, “that’s nice.”

Katniss pushed her spoon around her bowl for  a while.

“You really shouldn’t be watching those videos.” Sae said while shaking her head. “You’re in no place to see something like that.”

Katniss didn’t say anything and stared down at the table.

“Gale Hawthorne was on the news yesterday. He’s been promoted. Head of Security.” Sae said this as she wiped grain off her granddaughters cheek. “His mother must be real proud.”

Katniss nodded and stared into space, oddly aware that somewhere in the house a clock was ticking audibly.

“They’re already talking about elections.” Sae continued, her eyes trained on her granddaughters erratic movements, “They’re saying that every president only stays in office for a limited amount of time.”

Katniss nodded, the clock still ringing in her head, “good.”

It was silent. The war ended a year ago, right? Just one year.

“Peeta said he was redoing the bakery at the town meeting.” Sae said. “Said he didn’t feel right letting his daddy’s business end with him.”

Katniss frowned. “We have town meetings?”

Sae nodded, “ almost every week. Thursdays.”

“Where?” Katniss asked, “where can you fit the whole town?”

“You know there’s not that many people here right now.” Sae looked over at Katniss, “but they’re at the boys house. He’s got the largest.”

Of course.

 In the afternoon Katniss had to call her therapist, Dr. Aurelious. She sat on the window seat in her room, the phone pushed against her ear as she watched the street in front of her house idly.

“Hello Katniss.” Aurelious answered on the third ring. One of Haymitch’s geese wandered towards the decorative shrubbery that lined the streets.

“Hello.” Katniss rested her hand against the glass. It was very cold so she kept it there, just to feel it.

“Have you received your new dosage? Have you started taking it?”

“Yes yesterday. It makes me feel slow.”

“That’s common. Hopefully, with enough time we’ll be able to ween you off the anti-depressants.”

“It’s been a year since the war.” Katniss stated.

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed.

“Only a year.” She paused, “the other day, when Peeta visited me, I was thinking about how young he looks. How young he is.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Like I’m ancient, but not.��� Katniss leaned back against the wooden panelling behind her. “I haven’t seen my own reflection since I was in District 13.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know.” Katniss frowned.

“Are you afraid to see your reflection?”

“No.” Katniss didn’t elaborate.

“Peeta told me he talked to you about boundaries.” Dr. Aurelious said after a quiet moment, “how did that make you feel?”

“I thought you couldn’t speak about your patients to your patients?”

“I’ve made an exception in this unique case” Katniss grunted her disapproval.

“A long time ago Gale told Peeta I could not feel passion. He made it seem like I couldn’t feel real love. Not the way they did.” Katniss’s voice broke. “Is that true? You’ve been studying my behaviour, is that true?”

“You’re the only person who can answer that question, Katniss.”

“I don’t think I can.” Katniss admitted, “at least not the way I want to. Not the way I should.”

“There is no should in relationships, there just is.” Aurelious said. “There is no template.”

           There was a brief silence. Katniss stared hard at the street thinking about all the things she should be able to do and know. She should be able to walk the streets of the District, she should be able to know how to speak to her peers. She should be able to look at other people in the eye. She should, should, should…

           “Have you been writing in the journal I sent you?”

           “No,” she admitted. “I don’t see the point.”

           “I would like you to write in the journal first before you make up your mind about its usefulness.”

           Katniss watched as more geese filled the street, “I should try.”

           “You should try.”

           After putting the phone down Katniss stared at the leather-bound notebook that sat on her bedside table. There was a fine layer of dust gathering on it, as it hadn’t been mover nor opened since it arrived in her home. Standing on unstable legs, she crossed the room to hold the notebook in her hands.

           Finally, after a moment of contemplation, Katniss opened the book. It was blank of course. Filled with lined paper waiting for someone to write something upon it.

           She was about to close it to put it down once more when she spied a small note written on the front page.

           The more you feel, the more you will heal. Take care.

           --Dr. Anton Aurelious

           It hurt to breathe, so she sat on her bed to try to calm down. How could she feel? When her heart… it was just, gone. Burned to ashes in an explosion.

           The hole where her heart was meant to rest ached once more.

             On Thursday afternoon Katniss went to Haymitch’s house.

           It was dark. The curtains were drawn, although some parts of the deep purple curtains had been pulled violently from their hooks allowing for there to be random rays of light around the room. It was enough for Katniss to figure out where she should step and where she definitely shouldn’t.

           She was having a hard time finding Haymitch. More than once she shoved a promising lump with the toe of her boot just to find out if was a pile of disgusting clothes and other unidentifiable objects.

           “Haymitch!” she called out, her eyes burning from the smell. “Where are you, you useless drunk?”

           “He’s not here.” Katniss jumped and turned quickly to the voice that came from behind her. Standing there, unfazed by their surroundings, was Franklin Fairchild. He was one of the boys who lived on her street back in the Seam. He couldn’t be much older than fourteen.

           “What are you doing here?” Katniss asked, immediately on guard. “Are you trying to steal from Haymitch?”

           The boy laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m here to pick up this,” he held up a bottle of whiskey, “we’re about to have the meeting and Haymitch is extra crabby.”

           “Haymitch is at the meeting too?” Katniss frowned.

           “Well yeah, he always is.” The boy shrugged, looking unsure of what else he should say. “So… do you mind if I just go now?”

           Katniss didn’t answer, instead she turned around and walked out the front door.

           Back in her house, she sat on the kitchen table, the notebook in front of her.

           Hastily she grabbed the pen she’d quickly ran into the study to find and began angrily scratching her handwriting into the immaculate pages.

           Haymitch went to the meeting.

           Peeta is holding the meetings.

           Gale is Head of Security.

           Mother works at the District Four Hospital.

           It has been one year since the war.

           She stared at the page. She felt nothing. She understood nothing.

           Prim died.

           She stared at the words on the page.

           Prim died in a war.

           I should have died in the war.

           She closed the notebook quickly and tried to ignore the fact that she didn’t know why she didn’t seem to feel anything anymore.

           When Peeta let himself in for his nightly visit she surprised him by sitting on the grand staircase in front of the front door.

           “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” the sound of her voice surprised him, she watched him take a step back, one foot effectively back outside, as he looked up and found her sitting on the fifth step.

           “Why didn’t I tell you what?” He asked in return while stepping fully into the house and closing the door softly behind him.

           “You didn’t tell me about the meetings. I would like to know about the meetings.”

           Peeta’s expression communicated his surprise. “Oh, well that’s great. I can tell you about anything you want. They’re mostly about building supplies really.”

           “Why didn’t you tell me before?” She looked at his hair, never directly in the eyes. “You should have told me before.”

           “I didn’t think you would be interested.” He admitted, “I didn’t mean to exclude you. I’m sorry if you feel like I did.”

           She deflated. Why didn’t he ever do anything warranting her anger? He was always proving himself to be, effortlessly, kinder and better than her. “I am interested, now.”

           She could hear the smile in his voice. She refused to look at it. “Good. Come, I brought you some bread to make up for being late today.”

           She followed him into her kitchen. She stared at his back as he moved around. She wondered if she’d ever seen that shirt before. It was blue, long-sleeved, maybe cotton. She wondered how many things she knew and didn’t know.

           “Are you in the mood for some tea? I’m in the mood for some tea.” He said as he dropped a brown paper bag on the counter and pulled out something small.

           “I’ll put the water on,” Katniss mumbled.

           “I brought you some muffins too, I was in a muffin mood.” He continued, “I made a lot. I think I’m having a hard time remembering how to downsize recipes. I always do too much, at everything. It’s my most annoying quality.”

           “Making too many muffins is a quality?” she asked as she turned up the burner as high as it would go.

           He chuckled, “no, but I’m a self-doubter when I’m making a new thing. I always think I’m not doing enough, so I end up with a lot of stuff. My dad used to chastise me for that all the time.”

           “Oh,” Katniss said, and just stared at the stove before her.

           “They’re planning to help me out with the bakery,” Peeta continued easily. “I don’t know how long it’ll take. Maybe six months. But we’ll start on it soon.”

           Peeta set down a plate of muffins on her breakfast table, identical to his own, and sat down on one of the booths. “I’m excited.”

           Katniss nodded and followed, sitting opposite him. “That’s nice.”

           “It is,” He grinned, she continued to avoid direct eye contact and looked back down at her hands.

           “How was you day?” he asked her when it was clear she wasn’t going to ask him anything else. “Did you go to the woods today?”

           She shook her head. “I woke up late.”

           “That’s too bad, it was a nice day today.” She could sense him seeking her out, he was always trying to help her out of her shell.

           “You’re hair looks different today. It’s nice. Is you hair always that curly?”

           She looked up mostly because she was surprised he would mention it at all and accidentally looked him in the eyes. He was looking at her kindly, a bit of sadness was there too. She looked away.

           Tugging on the hair in question she nodded, “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I braid it.”

           “You don’t like it?” he asked her.

           “No,” she shook her head. “It’s just hair. But since it curls a bit, its hard to brush.”

           He was looking right at her, she could feel it, he was looking for something.

           “It’s not like you’ve never seen it like this before.” She frowned. “I wore it down to bed sometimes.”

           He shook his head, “I don’t remember really. They always straightened you hair for TV.”

           She gulped, “Yeah, they did. It didn’t fit the look I guess.”

           The kettle screamed and Peeta went to get their tea. She stared at the muffins, they were blueberry.

           After a moment Peeta put down a mug in front of her. He didn’t immediately move his hand away. Instead he sighed.

           “Katniss about the other day-”

           “There isn’t anything else left to say.” She interrupted, unwilling to talk about feelings when she hardly felt anything at all. “I understand boundaries.”

           He nodded and sat back down across from her. “Okay, but I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

           “I’m okay.”

           “And we’re still a team.” He leaned forward slightly, probably to make sure she was paying attention. “You said we had always been a team. We are. We always will be. It’s just not the same situation.”

           “We’re a team.” She nodded and reached out for a muffin. “I know that. You’re my ally.”

           He nodded and reached out for a muffin too. “Okay.”

           She looked up at him, he was looking down so it was safe. “Dr. Aurelious said he talked to you about me.”

           He nodded, he looked up and she could see he was jawing. She stared at a moving muscle in his jaw.

           “We talk about you a lot. It’s part of my therapy.”

She nodded in response. “Does he tell you about what I tell him?”

He shook his head. “No, your emotions are yours. I have no right to them.”

Katniss looked away from him entirely. “He gave me a journal to write in.”

“That’s good!” Peeta said encouragingly. “Do you enjoy it?”

“I don’t think I have emotions.” She confessed. “I’m telling you this because you’re the only person I trust.”

“And Haymitch wasn’t home when you went looking for him today,” he said amusedly.

Her shoulders tensed. He was right. “It isn’t anything funny, Peeta. And you are one of the only people I trust.”

He nodded, “I know.” He leaned back in his seat. “You have emotions, Katniss. A lot of them.”

“No I don’t.” She shook her head, “I don’t.”

“Of course you do. Right now you’re annoyed at me, angry at yourself, and angrier at Haymitch.”

She looked up at him and again accidentally caught his gaze. His eyes were compassionate. It hurt too much so she looked away.

“You feel all the time. You just don’t like to be the type of person that feels things.” He shrugged. “It’s understandable, I’ve been there.”

“I don’t like you.”

“I know,” Peeta chuckled, “but it’s true.”

“I want you to include me in the town meeting.” Katniss said suddenly. “I want to know about what’s being rebuilt.”

Peeta nodded, “done.”

“And I want you to show me what’s new in town.” Katniss sat up straight. “It’s been a year since the war, I need to see the District.”

He nodded again.

“And you will stay for dinner tomorrow.” She continued, “because we’re allies and you’re my friend.”

���Okay,” Peeta said softly.

“Okay,” Katniss repeated with conviction.

Follow the story here if you like it:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13212799/1/A-Girl-A-Boy-and-Everything-Else

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857688/chapters/42141143

You made it till the end!

[faroreswinds]

So I am still working on Chapter 1 on my AU fic. Since I have no intention of publishing it, I figured I could at least share some of the parts that I finished/very close to finishing. Idk, I did work on it and felt like maybe one or two people will get a kick out of it.

I rarely share my work, but I'm working on my anxiety and my poor self image, and figured I should be brave and just do it. No matter how scary it is.

Anyways, this is Part 1 of Chapter 1 (split up into smaller parts because I can). Probably won't go beyond chapter 1; I dont think my nerves can take it.

The news of the coronation of the new Almyran King came exactly one day before the letter announcing his intention to travel to the Empire of Adrestia to discuss the future of their alliance. 

Dimitri had been at his desk, overseeing his paperwork, when a servant came and informed him that his wife required his presence post haste.

"Pardon? Edelgard is asking for me?" asked the prince in surprise, his quill still against pale parchment. He glanced towards the small window to confirm the time of day. Not even noon yet. If she is requesting for him so early in the morning, it must be important. 

"Very well. Please let her know I am on my way." After the servant bowed and left, Dimitri sighed quietly as he set his quill aside. "Dedue, would you mind-"

"I will clean up, do not worry yourself, Your Highness," finished a large man that stood close beside Dimitri. He bent over and began to collect the papers delicately from Dimitri’s desk as a small, appreciative smile tugged at the prince’s lips. He thanked his vassal, before he left his chambers to find Edelgard.

The imperial palace was huge and ancient, built upon stones laid nearly 1000 years ago and still ever expanding. Even the most experienced maids often took a wrong turn, but after nine years of living here the prince knew his way through the labyrinth of corridors and impressive hallways fairly well. He was sure there were still secrets laying hidden within the stoney walls- rooms that have been forgotten by all except the mice and spiders- but today he was going towards the gardens and knew exactly the route he needed to take. 

The gardens of the imperial palace were no less complex then the stoney mazes, but no doubt more vibrant and welcoming. Morning glories glistened with dew as they bloomed in the rising sun. Wisteria blew gently in the breeze with their purple hue along the pathways of arbors. Fields of lilies and tulips and lilacs made blankets of color along the ground. Weeping willows offered shade and secluded places to picnic, when there was time. 

All carefully cultivated for the pleasure of the royalty of the Empire. 

Deep within this eden, Edelgard sat at a small white table, underneath her favorite gazebo among the bushes of roses. A display of desserts was spread out before her as she sipped her tea, all the very finest sweets that Enbarr had to offer and made perfectly to her tastes. When she spotted Dimitri approaching, she paused briefly to nod in his direction. 

"Dimitri. I see the servant was able to find you," she said without much surprise in her voice. At this time of day, Dimitri would only have been working. She motioned towards an accompanying chair across from her, which the servants had already prepared a setting for him. They stood to the side now, heads bowed low in respect, while the prince obliged and joined his wife for a morning snack. 

As he took the seat, Edelgard continued, "I hate to tear you away from your work, but something rather important has come up."

“I do not mind,” replied the prince, quite honestly. Paperwork exhausted him after so long- having only one working eye made it more difficult to focus for extended periods of time. Such a rare morning break was a treat, no matter the circumstances. “But I must admit, it was surprising to be summoned.” He glanced around the garden. “Hubert is not with you today?” It was unusual to not see Edelgard’s vassal looming behind her in the shadows, with his piercing yellow gaze and his sharp features. Like a snake, always watching but not always seen. 

"Hubert has other important work right now.” Edelgard set her cup down upon its saucer with a clink, her expression serious. “We received news today that King Khalid of Almyra is coming to Enbarr in just a few weeks."

Dimitri, who had been reaching for his teacup, started at the news and nearly knocked over the porcelain. He adjusted accordingly, catching the cup before the tea split over the table, but he was still openly bewildered.  

“W-what? Cla- I mean, King Khalid is coming here?” 

The princess nodded. She leaned forward and rested her chin upon the back of her hand. “Judging by your reaction, I feel that I was right to include you on this monumental opportunity.” 

“Opportunity?” Dimitri echoed back in confusion. 

"Relations with Almyra have been… delicate, for decades. But now they are reaching out to us. This is a chance for us to form a stronger alliance with them than my father forged with them after the war." She moved closer, expectation in her eyes. "Which is why I want you involved with the summit. You lived there for some time when you were younger. You have a better grasp of their culture than any of the nobles here in the palace. Not to mention, I heard you and King Khalid had been close during your time there."

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “That… is true,” Dimitri admitted. He felt strange. He folded his hands into his lap, his thumbs rubbing against each other as he looked away. He had not thought about that time for a while, at least not until yesterday when news of the Almyran prince’s coronation reached the Adrestian capital. That time, in the desert sands of Almyra… He felt his ears turn slightly pink. “But that was years ago. I am sure that King Khalid has changed. Our childhood friendship may not be what it is now. He may not even remember much of me.” 

“Regardless, you already have a connection with him,” Edelgard insisted. 

“But I was only there for a short time,” protested the prince. 

“And that is more time than anyone else here,” argued his wife in return. “This is important, Dimitri. Almyra has never willingly reached out to Fódlan before, and our current treaty with them is unstable. Father had drawn it up only to prevent them from invading after he won the war, but how long will that last? This is an opportunity to ensure that we can forge a strong alliance and improve relations with our neighbors at last. And who better than someone who was once friends with the new king himself?”

Dimitri could not help but silently agree with her reasoning, but he still felt nervous. His thumbs rubbed harder. “So soon after his coronation… The prince I remember was always pushing the boundaries but to invite himself to the imperial palace immediately after becoming king... “ 

“I found that odd as well. Do you have any idea as to why he would make such a bold decision?”

He shook his head. “Khalid had been curious about Fódlan, that much I remember. But he had always been… unpredictable. I cannot say I ever truly knew his mind.” 

“I see.” Edelgard withdrew and returned to sipping her tea. “Well, Hubert does not think this is an invasion- Khalid openly announced plans and even included the number of his arrival party. I’m still cautious, of course. However… I cannot let this chance go to waste.” 

This chance, huh? Dimitri finally found it in himself to take his first sip of tea since he sat down. But he almost could not focus on the warmth of the drink or the subtle texture of stray tea leaves, not with this news swirling in his head. He thought back to his old friend, back to the heat of the sun and the smell of spice in the air. To the call of the wyverns and the wild dancing, and to those piercing, green eyes of the mischievous prince and his bright, disarming smile. 

Khalid… 

He glanced up anxiously at his wife. “But what about His Majesty? Is he not to spearhead this summit with King Khalid?” 

“I’ve already talked to Father.” Of course she had- she was always one step ahead. “As long as King Khalid is willing, I will be taking charge of the negotiations. Father may still be Emperor, but it will not be long before I am coronated. Which is all the more reason to include you. As the future prince consort, you will be a valuable asset to the strength of this alliance.” 

Dimitri drew in a deep breath. The very nature of his position has basically secured his inevitable reunion with Khalid, hasn’t it? Not that it sounded like a terrible fate, of course. He had grown close to Khalid years ago, but what if… what if they were too different now? It has been nearly a decade, and people change. What sort of man has Khalid become over the years? Was it possible to rekindle such a friendship? There are times to let things stay in the past, to not let the flow of time ruin what had once been so beloved. It would not be Dimitri’s first experience losing a friend due to time. 

And yet, Dimitri felt a spark of excitement. To see Khalid after all these years again… that sounded wonderful as well, even if Dimitri felt nervous at the thought. 

What would Khalid think of Dimitri now? 

His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

“... Very well,” he gave in, “I will do what I can to help.” 

Edelgard smiled, pleased. She beckoned to a peach sorbet. "Since I have you here, we might as well enjoy the morning. It had been a while since we had time to spend together."

Magic had been used to keep the sorbet icy cold, and it had been scooped into a perfect dome with a mint leaf placed delicately on top. After a length of time, Dimitri slid the tall glass closer to him, and took a bite of the light pink dessert. 

He tasted nothing.

[tizouss-blog]

17 Things You Do That Your Dog Actually Hates, Experts Say

Your dog may check out you wish you hung the moon, but even man's ally has limits. Many behaviors will turn your relationship together with your canine companion into a contentious one in no time in the least. If you would like to 

remain on the proper side of Rover, determine if you are doing any of the subsequent things that vets, trainers, and other canine specialists say dogs hate.

1/ Force them to play with other dogs

Just because your dog enjoys getting to the park, that does not mean you ought to attempt to force a friendship between them and another pup at the playground if the chemistry isn't there.

"Some dogs are very social and love twiddling with other dogs, where some are very independent and don't want to play with other dogs," says Sara Ochoa, a little animal and exotic veterinarian in Texas and consultant for DogLab.com. "If your dog wants to play with another animal, they will."

2/ Tease them with treats

It may be all fun and games from your perspective, and even seem an equivalent way from theirs, but that's hardly the case. Treats should be used as rewards, but not instruments to tease and trick your dog, Ochoa says.

3/ Touch their feet and nails

Pedicures are not the relaxing experience for canines that they're for humans.

"Many dogs hate to possess their nails trimmed and feet touched," Ochoa says. However, since this is often an important component of their grooming, she recommends getting them wont to nail trims as puppies so they're less immune to them afterward.

4/ Hug them

Giving your pup an affectionate squeeze may desire the foremost natural thing within the world to you, but odds are you're the sole one feeling the love therein hug.

"This may be a human and primate behavior, but it's not comforting to your dog," says Brian Ogle, professor of anthrozoology at Beacon College in Leesburg, Florida, who notes that this behavior may even be perceived as aggressive.

5/ Disregard their boundaries

Whether it's cuddling to draw in bed, kissing them on the face, or simply being overly affectionate generally, that sort of behavior can become irritating to your dog if it becomes constant. "Like most folks, dogs have a private space [and] we frequently violate their space to point out affection," Ogle says.

6/ Leave them alone too often

If you are looking for a pet that will be happy spending hours alone, a dog probably is not the right choice, Ogle says. an excessive amount of along time can cause stress and unwanted behaviors, which is why he suggests owners bring their dogs with them whenever possible or find appropriate doggie daycare where they will not be in such a solitary environment.

7/ Wrestle with them

Just because your dog engages in aggressive play with other dogs doesn't suggest they need to try to an equivalent with you, says Carol Borden, founder, and CEO of Guardian Angels Medical Service Dogs.

"Wrestling with them, playing tug of war, or taunting them with treats will often inspire very undesirable behavior from the dog," she says.

8/ Discipline them inconsistently

If you would like to stay your dog happy, consistency is key—especially when it involves their training and the way you reward or admonish their behavior.

"While [dogs] are experts at reading visual communication and tone of voice, they're constantly confused and saddened by the mixed messages communicated by their human," says Borden, who notes that it's "extremely frustrating for something to be okay just one occasion, but not all the time," like sitting on the couch or twiddling with certain objects.

9/ Dress them up

Yes, they appear adorable in costume, but is it worth putting them through the discomfort or embarrassment they'll experience, all because you would like to urge a few cute pics to post on social media?

"Usually it isn't an honest idea because the dog's just very uncomfortable," says Cynthia Kelly, dog breeder and owner of Regis Regal German Shepherds in Spring Grove, Illinois. Kelly points out that one among the concerns is that they will even overheat in those little outfits if you are not careful.

10/ Use scented grooming products

"Dogs have a fantastic sense of smell, so even a mild [scent] to us humans has potential to irritate them," says Kelly, who recommends spraying any topical treatments onto a cloth first before applying them to your pet to limit their potential for olfactory offense.

11/ Pat them on the highest of the top

Of course, you're only attempting to point out your animal some quite approval or affection, but your dog may be getting a completely different quite message.

"It's a threatening behavior, especially if people learn over the dog from the front," says Hope Saidel, co-founder of 2-Minute-Trainer, who says that the smaller the dog is, the more intimidating the gesture. Instead, she recommends approaching dogs from the side and petting them under their jaw or neck.

12/ Argue ahead of them

Even a joking argument between you and your spouse can appear to be a really real conflict to your dog.

"Dogs want to guard all members of their families and do not know what to try to when there's discord," Saidel says. She also notes that some dogs will attempt to hack the fight, potentially leading to injury to anyone involved or close to people who are.

13/ Be animated together with your hand gestures

If you sometimes talk together with your hands, you would possibly want to tone it down when your hound's hanging around.

"We've seen dogs get upset when people are making broad gestures while playing video games," Saidel says. Again, the difficulty here is that the animal may interpret these motions as signs of aggression.

14/ Blow in their faces

That befuddled look your dog gives you once you blow in their face could also be cute, but it's not one among enjoyment.

"Most dogs hate it," says Colleen Demling, dog behaviorist at Dogtopia. once you believe it, it doesn't sound too pleasant regardless of what your species is.

15/ Stare at them

Gazing into your partner's eyes could also be a touching expression of what proportion you're keen on them, but locking eyes together with your dog could seem such as you try to say your authority. "For dogs, a protracted stare may be a signal of confrontation or aggression," Demling says. Even if, at times, it looks like they're okay with it, "they are likely showing subtle stress signals" that you simply aren't learning on, she says.

16/ Chase them

Just because your dog loves running alongside you doesn't suggest they need to interact with you during a high-speed foot pursuit. And if it's children doing the chasing, that's even worse.

"Dogs hate being pursued—and especially cornered—and might even bite a child at some point if it goes on for too long," says Steffi Trott, a dog trainer at SpiritDog Training in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

17/ Yank their leash

If you would like to determine that you simply are the one calling the shots within the relationship between you and your dog, that's fine, but yanking there leash isn't the thanks to set about it, Trott says.

"Avoid using the leash as a punishment," she says. "It isn't only uncomfortable for your dog, but can damage his trachea, especially in smaller breeds."

[theaxtorres]

Oscars Top 9: Silver screen standouts

Will your choice for Academy Best Picture take home the coveted award this year?

The Academy’s votes are finally in! And while the whole world awaits the awards show this Monday, March 5, Philippine Standard Time, we rounded up this year’s Best Picture nominees and gave a few snapshots and cliffsnotes as to why these bad boys (and girls) deserve the coveted Academy Award nods.

Lady Bird

At first glance, Lady Bird might come off as just another coming-of-age film, but director Greta Gerwig challenges the average tropes, stirring away from the clichés, and splices the story with a humor drenched with the sensitivity of a hard-knock life. The story centers on spunky teenage girl, “Lady Bird” played by Saoirse Ronan, who consistently longs for a future beyond the comfort zone of her family, school, and hometown. Devoid of overly dramatic declarations of love and loss, the film captures the overall concept of being young and growing up. Most importantly, it highlights the relationship of mother and daughter—its repercussions and complexities. All the while, Lady Bird maintains its originality, consistently building on its subtle comedy and drama, and keeping the audience entertained, almost as if certain points of the story were taken from a page of their own diary.

Rating: 3.5 / 5

Get Out

Pushing the creative boundaries of the horror genre, comedian-turned-director Jordan Peele makes his directorial debut with his horror film Get Out and explores a more insidious form of racism that lurks behind even the most sincerest of intentions. Peele breaks this down even more as the audience follows Chris (Daniel Kaluuya), an African American, and his girlfriend Rose (Allison Williams) as she invites him over for a weekend getaway to meet her parents whose warm, fuzzy welcome masks a sinister secret. The film blends satire, comedy, and horror elements so well that it doesn’t lose its focus and keeps to the theme surprisingly well. What’s even more brilliant is how Peele challenges the usual horror tropes without going so far as to parodizing it like Scream or going to more extremes such as the Scary Movie franchise. Get Out may not be as loud as the other nominees, but it can certainly pull a come-from-behind win this year.

Rating: 3 / 5

The Post

In a time when journalism is facing grave threats, Steven Spielberg’s political thriller The Post is nothing but timely. The film focuses on the expose of the Pentagon Papers, documents proving America’s military involvement in Vietnam from 1945 to 1967, by The New York Times, followed by The Washington Post. The film squares off Katharine Graham, The Post’s publisher played by Meryl Streep, and Ben Bradlee, The Post’s editor in chief played by Tom Hanks, as they clash their contradictory views on what to make of the expose. With an incredible amount of talent from its ensemble cast alone and the weight of the story they bring, Spielberg’s thriller is paced well—all while maintaining the tension for most of the scenes, putting justice to the struggle journalists face. While The Post may not be a groundbreaking work on its own, the story this film delivers is more relevant than ever.

Rating: 3 / 5 

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri 

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri falls no short from delivering hard-hitting, not to mention pain-staking, honesty brought by small-town locals facing a tragedy and consequential bites of revenge. The movie revolves around the actions of protagonist, Mildred Hayes (Frances McDormand) after she sets up three billboards outside her hometown that call out the local authorities for failing to catch the culprit of her daughter’s rape and eventual murder. Under Martin McDonagh’s direction, all the characters’ stories come full circle, with each one contributing their own pains, wits, and strengths to the foundation of the movie. While resonating the familiar chaos between opposing strong personalities, the film consistently compels its audience to puzzle together its intricacies, and in the end, embeds itself as a movie that is hard to forget.

Rating: 4 / 5

Darkest Hour

Exploring the events that transpired at the onset of the Second World War in Western Europe, this war drama film from director Joe Wright presents a closer look at Winston Churchill, Britain’s then Prime Minister who refused to bow to German Nazis. Focused on Churchill’s struggle of whether or not to negotiate with former dictator Adolf Hitler as they advance towards the United Kingdom, the film takes the audience through the push and pull in making tough decisions. While there are considerable narrative flaws and complications throughout the film, Gary Oldman’s rousing and electrifying performance as he “disappears” into the role of the British Prime Minister alone is able to hold the film together and proves that it certainly deserves its Oscar nod.

Rating: 3 / 5

Phantom Thread 

Set in the glitz and glamour of London in the 1950s, Phantom Thread centers on a story of love that deceives its audience with its initial simplicity, but progresses into a choreography of a thrilling and intimate romance. As expected, Reynald Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) delivers a hauntingly powerful performance as a renowned fashion designer lovestruck by waitress Alma Elson (Vicky Krieps). Director Paul Thomas Anderson stitches together pristine visuals and innocent personas, while managing to maintain the messiness of a stubborn romance. Phantom Thread secures its audience with an honest relationship, satisfying the hopeless romantics, but never trapping itself within a cliché.

Rating: 3 / 5

Dunkirk

Give it to auteur director Christopher Nolan to take the historical account of the seemingly impossible task of evacuating 400,000 Allied Forces soldiers from the beaches of Dunkirk, France during the early campaign of the Second World War and turn it into a riveting, heart-stopping war thriller. In true Nolan fashion, he masterfully weaves a non-linear narrative structure (three timelines moving at three different paces and moment in time) with such audacity and craftsmanship that as these timelines converge in the end, audiences cannot help but be swept away. Nolan creates such a visceral cinematic viewing experience for the audience, all while showcasing his technical prowess and attention to detail. And while Dunkirk may not be a frontrunner in the Best Picture race, Nolan’s tour de force performance as the film’s director may very well land him the recognition he deserves from the Academy.

Rating: 4 / 5

Call Me by Your Name 

Capturing the sensibilities of a coming-of-age film through the lens of queer cinema, Call Me by Your Name provides the audience with a breath of fresh air and a subtle hypnosis from the film’s concept of love and beauty. The film centers on the budding romance between 17-year-old Elio (Timothee Chalamet) and the American scholar working for his father, Oliver (Armie Hammer). Although director Luca Guadagnino follows a slow-paced direction and rests majorly on the dimension of a sultry, rebellious romance, the characters stand out as refreshingly endearing and the story deems itself memorable through its undramatic, but moving approach. No doubt, this movie will tug on the heartstrings of anyone longing for that touch of young love.

Rating: 3 / 5

The Shape of Water 

Guillermo Del Toro’s genius shines through in his ode to the magic of film in The Shape of Water. No stranger to disobedient fairytales, Del Toro produces the perfect mixture of star-crossed lovers and action-packed chases. As a romantic melodrama completely unlike any other, Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) slowly builds an authentic romance with a sea-like creature and faces the perils of a love so unconventional. With each character’s story explicitly given attention, the movie’s coherence and formed camaraderies entrance the audience, almost reeling them into an immersion of the extraordinary events of the movie. What makes Shape of Water stand out from the rest is the utter creativity of each scene; every detail of production and costume design is built to finesse, the script strikes the minds of attentive listeners, and even the mere idea behind a sequence can render you speechless.

Rating: 5 / 5

This year’s Academy Award nominees for Best Picture have been some of the best and more interesting ones within the last three to five years. But with all things considered, this year’s most coveted award could ultimately go to Del Torro’s The Shape of Water. Considered by some critics as one of the frontrunners in the race, Del Torro’s fantasy drama outshines all other competitors with its captivating story executed with such passion and creativity. 

This article was originally published in the Benildean website and was written with EJ Lanuza.

[ellanainthetardis]

Hey there! Sorry for the delay, I was running everywhere yesterday! Okaaaay so, are you reaaaady ? Let me know your thoughts!

[FF] or [AO3]

23. Twenty-eight Weeks

It was uncanny how the woods hadn’t changed.

When they had first come back to Twelve, everything had been in ruins and Haymitch hadn’t been able to breathe properly. He remembered feeling stunned and almost shocked that Katniss could walk among the rubble without flinching every two steps – although Katniss had been back twice before that when he had carefully avoided looking at any picture of the destroyed District. He remembered thinking he had been sentenced to hell once more and thus he had locked himself again in that tomb of a house, devoid of any hope for a better life.

He had had plenty of hopes before the end of Katniss’ trial, before her mother had run and they had been short of a guardian, before he had stood up and volunteered because he was the only one of the three of them who hadn’t yet. He had been thinking about moving somewhere else, somewhere new, where new beginnings would have been possible. Wherever Effie wanted, really, because at that point he had stopped deluding himself into thinking he didn’t want her to feature in his life. Wherever the kids would have liked because there was no way he would have left them behind.

Twelve…

Twelve had never been on the table for him.

However, after the few first horrendous weeks, after the first couple of months… Twelve had risen from its ashes, the same in many ways but different in enough of others that Haymitch had finally felt comfortable venturing. The District was completely different from before, now. More modern despite what Effie’s mother had to say about it, crammed with shops nobody needed, no longer the poorest in Panem or, at least, not so visibly that people were starving in the streets…

It was actually a nice place to live nowadays and, sometimes, not often but sometimes, he even forgot that it hadn’t always been that way. It looked like that somewhere else he had vaguely let himself dream about, somewhere new.

But the woods were exactly the same as in his youth, untouched by the war and the Capitol’s chemical fire, and the more he roamed them, the more difficult it became to leave the past behind. And yet he came back every day under the pretence of walking the dog who quite enjoyed the trek, running around and barking, exhausting himself enough that he wouldn’t be restless in the house…

Haymitch had been returning to the woods every morning for close to a week and he stuck to them most of the day, simply walking around at random – or seemingly at random because there was the clearing where he used to meet Mabel, there was the lake where he and his friends swam in, here and there were his favorite spots for snares, and finally where the forest met the old mine, there was where the electrical fence used to stand and where they used to sneak out…

He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve by revisiting those memories every day because they hurt, each and every one of them. He had long buried the torch he had carried for his girlfriend, accepted that although he had clung to the idea of a lifelong love as much as he could, he had only been sixteen and chances were things would have been very different in the long run. He would forever feel guilty about her death because it had been senseless and his fault, his love for her alone had been a death sentence. Thinking about Mabel still hurt because of the pointlessness of it all. Thinking about the friends he used to spend his days with also hurt because, aside from Hazelle, most of them were dead. Thinking about his brother…

He whistled because Snowball had disappeared between two dead bushes five minutes earlier and he couldn’t see the puppy anymore. He was hard to spot in the snow that still covered the ground. The weather wasn’t so bad for early February, he was ready to bet there would be more snow coming down but, for now, the thick coat had finally thinned and they had cleared the roads enough that Effie could reach the town if she was motivated enough to attempt the walk.

She was starting to waddle – not that he would tell her that. Or anything, lately.

He hadn’t visited the town in a week, not since he had found her in the attic, rummaging in boxes that should have remained closed. The bar was a little too attractive. He had taken the piss that night, when she had asked if he had drunk, but the truth of the matter was: he had gone in and by the force of habits had ordered a glass of whiskey.

He had stared at that glass for hours.

It had been untouched when he had stood up and left.

He didn’t feel particularly proud about it, not when the thirst was stronger than ever. He had finished the treatment Larcher had prescribed him so perhaps it was the reason why… Perhaps without the help of the pills he had dutifully been swallowing for the last couple of months he wasn’t strong enough not to yearn for alcohol at every waking moment. Or perhaps it was what lurked in the attic that had him drifting…

Effie had gone back up.

She had done it when he hadn’t been home but he knew. He could tell. He could always tell when she was plotting something.

He reached the lake and sat down on a mostly snow-free boulder, watching the glimmering ice without truly seeing it. Snowball brought him a big heavy stick and they played tug, then fetch. The puppy was having a grand time. Haymitch was distracted.

He wasn’t exactly surprised to see Katniss emerge from between two trees after a while. There wasn’t much game to catch those days, although she always managed a few squirrels, but she needed the daily moments of solitude almost as much as he craved them lately.

“Looking for me?” he asked because that had happened a few times over the last week. Katniss tracking him down in the woods or Peeta making sure he wasn’t dropping drunk dead somewhere… Effie had been very good at not pushing his boundaries and respecting the fact he wanted space – then again, she had always been good at knowing when to insist and when to retreat with him – but the kids didn’t get it.

The girl’s mouth was set in a serious line as she came closer, barely stopping to awkwardly pat the dog on the head – she wasn’t fond of Snowball, he reminded her too much of the mutts that had appeared at the end of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games – and he knew she was done humoring him.

Hell, he had lasted eight days without anyone trying to pressure him, it was more than he had thought he would have.

“What’s going on with you and Effie?” she asked, never one to choose diplomacy over efficiency.

“None of your business.” he spat.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. He tried not to notice she was wearing the green scarf Effie had knitted for her… “You’re not going to bolt, are you? Because too late, Haymitch. You made your choice. You told her you wanted the kid, you don’t get to change your mind now. I won’t let you. Parents should always stick with their children.”

Her little speech started firm but ended up pained and he sighed, rubbing his eyes, wondering why he always had to make a mess of everything. “I did a lot of shit, sweetheart, but I always stuck with you and the boy. Don’t drop other people’s mistakes on me. That’s not fair.”

“We’re not talking about me.” Katniss argued, harshly enough that Snowball let out a small warning growl.

Haymitch tossed the stick if only to keep the overprotective puppy occupied.

“Aren’t we always?” he snorted.

“You’re being an ass.” she snapped. “You’ve been an ass for a week. To me, to Peeta and to Effie. She’s carrying your kid. It means nothing to you?”

You knew things were bad when Katniss Everdeen took the champion’s mantle for Effie Trinket…

“I want a drink.” he admitted. “Badly.”

That shut her up, at least.

Katniss hesitated and then joined him on the boulder, not offering any of the platitudes someone else would have. Reassurances, encouragements… The girl didn’t know how to do that so she simply sat  there, her side pressed against his in a not so subtle reminder that she was there, and she watched him play with his dog, lost in her own thoughts.

They remained like that for the longest time.

He was relieved not to have to explain himself. Peeta had been probing the issue without really voicing his concerns. Katniss understood him in ways the boys didn’t though, which was why he found himself talking in the end.

“I’ve got stuff in my attic.” he said, at last. And wasn’t that just the best metaphor. “Stuff from… before. I used to cram boxes up there every year when the Games were still on. I never even really went up all the way, I just pushed the boxes up there and forgot about them.”

“What’s in the boxes?” Katniss frowned.  

“Leftover clothes from the season that were too fancy to wear around Twelve.” he shrugged. “Some pictures, I guess… A few magazines… Any reminder, really…”

He didn’t even know why he had kept all the stuff in the first place instead of just dumping it in the bin. He had stocked the clothes because there had never been enough of them in his youth and it seemed almost criminal to him to toss perfectly good fabric away when people were dying of exposure in the Seam – he would never have been able to just give them away, the Capitol would have frown on that but just dumping them in the trash had been out of the question, just like wasting food would have been. There had been less items he truly didn’t want after Effie had come on board anyway. She had a knack to dress him the way he liked and the boxes from her years mostly contained suits and mementoes.

Those were the things he had never quite been able to explain to himself. There were a few promo pictures from Twelve’s team, stuff he had been given and had usually buried at the bottom of his luggage, out of sight out of mind, until he had found them while unpacking. He had burn them in the beginning but with the years… Photoshoots had never been something he enjoyed but Effie had made it fun, some of those were actually good. There were more genuine pictures too… Of him with the other victors, either at Games events or in the privacy of one of their apartment in the Center… Of him with Effie… He was sure there was a stack of Polaroid somewhere on which she wasn’t wearing much if anything at all…

The people on those pictures, they had been having a good time. It was usually why you took pictures, to remember the good times. And every time he had come back to Twelve, to the overwhelming misery, to the reality of two more dead kids he somehow always managed to push at the back of his mind with booze, women or friendly company while in the Capitol… He had felt ashamed. So the pictures had ended up in the boxes. Out of sight.

“Okay.” Katniss nodded as if it made sense. And, to her, it probably did.

“There’s stuff from my old house too.” He rushed the words out, as if he was tearing off a particularly resistant band-aid. “Effie found that.”

“And you’re mad because she looked at it?” she asked in a knowing voice. He remembered the stuff she had been carrying everywhere from Twelve to Thirteen to the Capitol and back. The picture of her father, his jacket, the pearl Peeta had given her, the pin… She understood clinging to things like talismans.

Peeta had kept nothing from before.

Effie had lost almost all her belongings but she was the kind who dutifully kept everything from a movie ticket to beads he had won at a poker game and had tossed at her just to shut her up. She was a collector. Everything and nothing, every little thing.

Haymitch didn’t consider himself to be a nostalgic person but he still wore the battered golden bangle despite the weird looks people had tossed him at first. The bangle was his token. It had been a reminder during those months in Thirteen that she was out there, somewhere, and he needed to find her. Wearing it had been a promise to himself.

Some objects were more precious than others.

Others though…

“I forgot it was there.” he said and it was the crux of the matter, really.

He had forgotten. He had thought he had put his family to rest. He had bought geese because it had been Hayden’s dream to have a farm. He had planted irises for her mother, to remember her by because the graveyard was gone, destroyed in the bombings. He had find stability with the kids, had opened his door to Effie, had settled in this new family unit and, later, had even felt confident they could add a baby to the mix with relative safety.

He had thought the grieving process was finally over. And then he had climbed up to the attic in search of her, grumbling under his breath about ladders and potential accidents, only to be confronted with a past he had completely forgotten he had stashed there.

“I miss Prim.” Katniss confessed after a long moment of silence. “Every day, I miss her. It’s never going to go away.”

“No.” he confirmed. Because he still missed them. Hayden, his mother… His girl too. Chaff, Finnick, Mags… The list went on and on…

“But sometimes I forget.” she whispered, looking down at her feet. “Sometimes I’m happy and I forget I miss her. It makes me feel terrible but then I realize… She wouldn’t want me to be miserable so… I think it’s okay if I forget from time to time. Doctor Aurelius says it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving her, that it doesn’t mean I will forget her for good.” She shrugged and grabbed his hand, squeezing once before letting go. “I don’t think it means you forgot them for good, Haymitch. It doesn’t mean you’re replacing them.”

Hadn’t he, though? Replaced his dead family with a brand new breathing one?

He snorted and shook his head. His mother would have whacked him at the back of the skull so hard for even thinking that way…

“It’s the only thing that matters.” he mumbled awkwardly. “Family.”

“Yeah.” she agreed without any embarrassment. “You should never turn your back on them, never give up on them, never leave…”

“I ain’t going to leave my kid.” he growled. He wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t just abandon them and run away because he was too much of a coward to face his life, no matter how difficult. “Any of my kids.”

“I know.” she said, matter of fact. “I trust you to never leave. You’re the only one who never did.”

“Sweetheart…” Her mother’s defection still hurt her and their contacts were seriously limited to a phone call every six months as far as he knew. She hadn’t forgiven her and, to be honest, neither had he nor Effie. He wasn’t sure what to answer to that so he threw caution to the wind and simply hugged her. They didn’t do that often and it was always special.

She hugged back for dear life and he heard a suspicious sniff but when she talked her voice was steady. “You’re a great dad, Haymitch. You’ll be fine.” She drew back and punched his shoulder. “But you should stop acting like a jerk and go home now. And tell her about the drinking thing… It’s Effie, she’ll get it. Maybe she can help distract you or… whatever.”

Distract him would involve fewer clothes and a lot less pregnant stomach but he didn’t think Katniss meant it in that sense anyway.

“Yeah.” he sighed. He supposed he had brooded enough. He had been in and out of the house for days now, barely talking to her at all… It wasn’t fair on her.

They walked back to the Village together, mostly in silence, both of them dealing with their own ghosts.

She spotted the car first. It was hard to miss, neatly parked in front of his house as it was. “Why’s the doctor here?”

Haymitch’s blood ran cold and he rushed inside, dashed straight to the living-room where she was lying on her side on the couch, awfully pale, with Peeta perched on the armrest behind her head and Larcher packing up his medical bag. Everyone looked at him but he only looked at her, wide eyes, heart hammering in his chest.

“I am fine.” she said immediately. “It was nothing. Peeta was just overcautious.”

“You fainted.” the boy protested, almost accusatory.

“I didn’t faint, I was simply dizzy.” she argued.

“It was just some hypoglycemia.” Larcher confirmed. “Nothing a hot chocolate didn’t fix. Now, Effie, try to take it easy today.”

“It won’t be difficult, I am exhausted.” she grumbled.

And for the first time in days, Haymitch noticed the dark bags under her eyes. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well because on the rare nights he had consented to go to bed with her she had tossed and turned for hours. But sleep had evaded him as well since the attic and he had spent most nights in the living-room, trying to focus on a book or staring at the fire to resist the temptation of getting wasted enough to close his eyes without having nightmares.

He waited until Larcher was gone to kneel next to the couch, barely noticing Katniss gesturing at Peeta to come with her – and away from the house, he assumed. He pressed a kiss on her stomach first and on her lips next.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

He expected some anger because it was Effie – and if Effie was forgiving she also liked to make him grovel for it – but she simply looked relieved.

“You should not have shut me out.” she chided him gently but without heat, cupping his cheek, her thumb running on his bottom lip.

“I know.” he admitted, pressing a kiss against the pad of her thumb. “I just… It got too much.”

He sat down with a sigh and let his head fall on the couch, in the curve between her breasts and her belly.

“Do you mean us?” she asked uncertainly, her hand falling on his shoulder.

He entwined their fingers. “Never us, Princess.”

They were too much. Had always been too much. Together, they were like an inferno and it sometimes felt like more than he could handle. But it had been years since he had thought they were a bad idea. They were complicated. But he had told her once and he still meant it: good things sometimes came out of complicated.

“You have been struggling.” she pointed out cautiously, clearly afraid he would get mad again. He had no energy left in him to get mad. “With the drinking.”

“Yeah.” he admitted, his voice more fragile than he would have liked. “Haven’t touched booze though. I won’t.” That promise was fierce, it was directed not to only to himself but to her and to their baby. “Don’t worry.”

“Of course, I worry.” she sighed. “But I do not worry about the drinking, I worry about you. Haymitch, I am…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again.” he cut her off. “Wasn’t your fault. This is your fucking house, there’s no out of bounds room. I was just…” He let that sentence trail off. Staring at the ceiling instead of looking at her. “Just… One moment we were there, getting ready for the shrimp and everything was… Good… And the next… I forgot all that stuff was up there.. The furniture… The ashes… I forgot. And then it hit me that… I can picture what our kid will look like, I can picture him so fucking well, sweetheart… Down to the dimples… But my mom and my baby brother… I can’t remember their faces, their features…”

He felt her fingers slowly running in his hair and he closed his eyes, letting the familiar gut wrenching sorrow wash over him. He clenched his jaw and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“You do not have any picture?” she asked softly.

He shook his head once in denial. “The only one burned. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying so fucking hard to remember…”

His voice broke and he bit down on the inside of his cheek, keeping himself together by sheer force of will only.

“Oh, my darling…. It is alright…” she breathed out, wriggling on the couch to push herself up.

He wanted to tell her not to move because she needed to rest but then she awkwardly hugged his shoulders from behind. Her stomach was in the way and she grew frustrated enough that she pulled on his arm until he consented to haul himself off the floor to sit with her. Then she draped herself over him, crawling on his lap, because, pregnant or not, hugging was her favorite form of comforting.

A part of him bristled at this open show of weakness, another part simply marveled he could be so open with anyone after everything. But it was Effie. And Effie had been with him for almost sixteen years. She had seen the good and the bad. She had been there for most of it.

They were intimately acquainted with each other’s demons.

“You’re heavy.” he complained for the sake of it.

She laughed but there were tears in her eyes that she hastily blinked away. She kissed his cheek and then his mouth, a peck that was far from innocent and that went a long way in making him feel better. His first instinct when he was hurt was always to seek a lonely place but it was always her touch that ended up soothing him.

“We will take thousands of pictures.” she declared, resting her forehead against his. “We will record every moment for him, for when he is older.”

He nodded his assent, his hands gently rubbing her back. “You’ve been cleaning up there.”

He felt her hesitation but she didn’t try to lie.

“I sorted the boxes that did not seem to have sentimental value.” she explained. “There is no use keeping clothes that we could give to some charities… I made bags if you want to go through them.”

“No, it’s fine.” he shrugged. “They were up there ‘cause I didn’t want them.” He took a deep breath. “I should probably get rid of the rest…”

“It is a big attic.” she argued. “There is no need for hasty decisions.”

“It’s nothing but junk.” he scoffed.

“It is all you have left.” she whispered. “It is alright to want to keep it. It does not even take that much room… Leave it there. Who knows… Perhaps you will want to show it to our son someday…”

“Nice depressing talks you see us having.” he chuckled bitterly, but her offer was more than tempting and thus he dropped the matter, tugging a little on her low ponytail. “How come you were dizzy? You skipped breakfast?”

“Nothing appealed to me so I simply had a toast.” she pouted. “I really wanted scrambled eggs but we didn’t have any in the fridge and I was not sure I could manage without burning the whole house anyway so it did not seem worth it to brave your birds.”

“We don’t have eggs ‘cause you’ve been puking at the sight of them for months.” he mocked. She pouted deeper and he snorted. “You still want scrambled eggs?”

She flashed him a beaming smile and he shook his head at those weird cravings of hers. He was mostly grateful it had hit her late because he wasn’t sure he could have taken nine of months of requesting strange food at every hour of the day.

“Do we have bacon?” she asked hopefully.

“Think so.” he shrugged, nudging her off his lap – with some relief because she really was heavy. “Lie down for a bit, yeah?”

“If that was that easy.” she huffed. “I haven’t been able to find a comfortable position in days. I am too big!”

“You’re beautiful.” he countered automatically.

She tossed him a dark knowing look that he chose to ignore in favor of getting her food ready. He made two plates, figuring they might as well have an early lunch. She was lying on her side again when he came back, propped on pillows, Snowball spread over her feet, and she was still pouting.

“I cannot take two more months of this.” she told him. “My back aches, my ankles are swollen and I cannot for the life of me get comfortable… My clothes are too tight again. Those pregnancy pants are supposed to be stretchy. Why are they not stretchy? I would get naked if it wasn’t so cold.” A naked Effie was never a bad thing and he smirked but, clearly, it wasn’t the right reaction. “Oh, do not get any idea… I am too big for that.”

“Never back down from a challenge, sweetheart.” he teased, handing her a plate. “Here, get some food into you.”

She sat up to grab it, disturbing the puppy who grumbled but hopped down to the safety of his own bed where nobody would annoy him, and she eagerly planted her fork in the eggs. She brought it to her lips and immediately dropped it without even placing it in her mouth.

He watched as she turned green and he snatched the plate back, hurrying to dispose of the eggs. He came back with more crispy bacon and some warmed up fish leftover they had had for dinner the previous night.

“I like eggs.” she whined, accepting the new plate.

“I know.” he sighed.

“Your shrimp is a pain.” she hissed, ignoring the fish to pounce on the bacon.

“Our shrimp.” he corrected, tossing a piece of bacon to Snowball who was suddenly less interested in sleeping. “But, yeah. Probably.”

With the two of them as his parents…

What else was she expecting?

[lmedbogostor]

17 Things You Do That Your Dog Actually Hates, Experts Say

CUT OUT THESE BAD BEHAVIORS SO you do not TURN MAN'S ally INTO YOUR WORST ENEMY.

Your dog may check out you wish you hung the moon, but even man's ally has limits. In fact, there are many behaviors which will turn your relationship together

 with your canine companion into a contentious one in no time in the least . If you would like to remain on the proper side of Rover, determine if you are doing any of the subsequent things that vets, trainers, and other canine specialists say dogs hate.

1Force them to play with other dogs two dogs fighting Just because your dog enjoys getting to the park, that does not mean you ought to attempt to force a friendship between them and another pup at the playground if the chemistry clearly isn't there.

"Some dogs are very social and love twiddling with other dogs, where some are very independent and don't want to play with other dogs," says Sara Ochoa, alittle animal and exotic veterinarian in Texas and consultant for DogLab.com. "If your dog wants to play with another animal, they will."

2Tease them with treats yellow lab with treat on its nose It may be all fun and games from your perspective, and even seem an equivalent way from theirs, but that's hardly the case. Treats should be used as rewards, but not instruments to tease and trick your dog, Ochoa says.

3Touch their feet and nails white hand holding small dog's paws Pedicures are definitely not the relaxing experience for canines that they're for humans.

"Many dogs hate to possess their nails trimmed and feet touched,"Ochoa says. However, since this is often an important component of their grooming, she recommends getting them wont to nail trims as puppies so they're less immune to them afterward .

4Hug them young asian girl holding French bulldog Giving your pup an affectionate squeeze may desire the foremost natural thing within the world to you, but odds are you're the sole one feeling the love therein hug.

"This may be a human and primate behavior, but it's not comforting to your dog," says Brian Ogle, professor of anthrozoology at Beacon College in Leesburg, Florida, who notes that this behavior may even be perceived as aggressive.

5Disregard their boundaries young white guy hugging upset dog Whether it's cuddling too draw in bed, kissing them on the face, or simply being overly affectionate generally , that sort of behavior can become irritating to your dog if it becomes constant.

"Like most folks , dogs have a private space [and] we frequently violate their space so as to point out affection," Ogle says.

6Leave them alone too often sad dog, things housekeepers hate If you are looking for a pet which will be happy spending hours alone, a dog probably is not the right choice, Ogle says. an excessive amount of along time can cause stress and unwanted behaviors, which is why he suggests owners bring their dogs with them whenever possible or find appropriate doggie daycare where they will not be in such a solitary environment.

7Wrestle with them young boy wrestling dog Just because your dog engages in aggressive play with other dogs doesn't suggest they need to try to to an equivalent with you, says Carol Borden, founder and CEO of Guardian Angels Medical Service Dogs.

"Wrestling with them, playing tug of war, or taunting them with treats will often inspire very undesirable behavior from the dog," she says.

8Discipline them inconsistently asian woman training dog outdoors If you would like to stay your dog happy, consistency is key—especially when it involves their training, and the way you reward or admonish their behavior.

"While [dogs] are experts at reading visual communication and tone of voice, they're constantly confused and saddened by the mixed messages communicated by their human," says Borden, who notes that it's "extremely frustrating for something to be okay just one occasion , but not all the time," like sitting on the couch or twiddling with certain objects.

9Dress them up dog in vampire costume Yes, they appear adorable in costume, but is it worth putting them through the discomfort or embarrassment they'll experience, all because you would like to urge a few of cute pics to post on social media?

"Usually it isn't an honest idea because the dog's just very uncomfortable," says Cynthia Kelly, dog breeder and owner of Regis Regal German Shepherds in Spring Grove, Illinois. Kelly points out that one among the concerns is that they will even overheat in those little outfits if you are not careful.

10Use scented grooming products schnauzer getting a shower "Dogs have a fantastic sense of smell, so even a really mild [scent] to us humans has potential to actually irritate them," says Kelly, who recommends spraying any topical treatments onto a cloth first before applying them to your pet to limit their potential for olfactory offense.

11Pat them on the highest of the top white hand patting dog on head Of course you're only attempting to point out your animal some quite approval or affection, but it's possible that your dog is getting a completely different quite message.

"It's a threatening behavior, especially if people lean over the dog from the front," says Hope Saidel, co-founder of 2-Minute-Trainer, who says that the smaller the dog is, the more intimidating the gesture. Instead, she recommends approaching dogs from the side and petting them under their jaw or neck.

12Argue ahead of them young black couple arguing on couch, things no spouse wants to listen to Even a joking argument between you and your spouse can appear to be a really real conflict to your dog.

"Dogs want to guard all members of their families and do not know what to try to to when there's discord," Saidel says. She also notes that some dogs will attempt to hack the fight, potentially leading to injury to anyone involved or in close proximity to people who are.

13Be animated together with your hand gestures mother and daughter playing computer game ahead of dog Shutterstock/Zivica Kerkez If you sometimes talk together with your hands, you would possibly want to tone it down when your hound's hanging around.

"We've seen dogs get upset when people are making broad gestures while playing video games," Saidel says. Again, the difficulty here is that the animal may interpret these motions as signs of aggression.

14Blow in their faces young girl blowing in french bulldog's face That befuddled look your dog gives you once you blow in their face could also be cute, but it's definitely not one among enjoyment.

"In fact, most dogs hate it," says Colleen Demling, dog behaviorist at Dogtopia. once you believe it, it doesn't sound too pleasant regardless of what your species is.

15Stare at them young asian boy watching alsatian or husky puppy Gazing into your partner's eyes could also be a touching expression of what proportion you're keen on them, but locking eyes together with your dog could seem such as you try to say your authority.

"For dogs, a protracted stare may be a signal of confrontation or aggression," Demling says. Even if, at times, it looks like they're okay with it, "they are likely showing subtle stress signals" that you simply aren't learning on, she says.

16Chase them young boy chasing dog Just because your dog loves running alongside you doesn't suggest they need to interact you during a high-speed foot pursuit. And if it's children doing the chasing, that's even worse.

"Dogs hate being pursued—and especially cornered—and might even bite a child at some point if it goes on for too long," says Steffi Trott, dog trainer at SpiritDog Training in Albuquerque, New Mexico .

17Yank their leash small dog on tight leash If you would like to determine that you simply are the one calling the shots within the relationship between you and your dog, that's fine, but yanking there leash isn't the thanks to set about it, Trott says.

"Avoid using the leash as a punishment," she says. "It isn't only uncomfortable for your dog, but can actually damage his trachea, especially in smaller breeds."

[jessicakehoe]

Beauty Water is The Book That Will Make You Rethink Your Daily Glass of H20

When Vancouver’s Tori Holmes was 21 years old, she became the youngest woman to cross the Atlantic ocean in a rowboat. After running into hurricane Katrina and breaking several ribs in a 60-foot swell, her desalinator broke, and she and her then-partner were without water for several days. It was a seminal moment that she describes in detail in her new book, Beauty Water, which launched this week. Holmes, a two-time cancer survivor and now a registered holistic nutritionist, has dedicated her career to the art of hydration and plant-based medicine, first with her Nectar juiceries, and now with this beautifully-designed recipe book of water-based elixirs for beauty, health and healing. We spoke to her about her favourite recipes, how the side effect of the medicinal Schisandra berry is horniness and why self care is going to change the world.

What inspired you to write this book? To help people feel well so that they can do well. Through my time at Nectar, I had the gift of interacting with thousands of people in relation to their aspirational health goals and where they were at as well as what really scared them. I’ve been very dedicated to providing products and services that meet them where they’re at and just push the boundaries a little bit now. I think this elixir book is a little ahead of its time, but I think the world is awakening. What’s happening in our planet right now with the emissions is the globe saying wake up and personal accountability is really what it comes back to and how can we do good for others. Self care is something that I’m a huge advocate for and it’s not just about having facials and massages. What I’ve seen in my experience of coaching people into their optimal wellness or their personal potential is that if you strengthen yourself, your capacity to lead to hold space for others, too.

Why water? I chose it as the conduit for the stories in the impact of these plants. My intention was to take hydration because, if you think about it, go East go West, any beauty or health ritual from the beginning of time comes back to hydration. So what if we were to take hydration and turn it into self-care rituals and water into a remedy, and think of plants as the body’s personal trainer? It’s a way to just elevate something that we already need to do. Even if you drink water for 30 days, you feel exponentially better, just the ritual of helping your cellular system turn over. Now imagine if you’re able to infuse antioxidants or vitamins and minerals or certain compounds that support the liver or the digestion?

How did you discover plant-based healing? When I was at sea, I pushed every single one of the four pillars of wellness —movement, rest, nutrition and spirit—to the breaking point. So to come back to wellness, I had to invest in rest. I hit my personal hurricane on land surprisingly when I got early stage breast cancer on the left side of my body, which is where I had broken my ribs. When I went to the doctors, they were very dismissive and really didn’t include me in my healing. They didn’t hold me accountable. They didn’t ask me questions. That was a really big red flag for me. I had to invest in nutrition and I had to invest in my spirit and my behavior and movement because I was off track and these are literally like a cycle. It’s not what you do in one part. It’s the incremental investment in all of these things that creates a wheel of wellness that creates momentum in your overall health. So I went to school for holistic nutrition. I was really fascinated by symptomatology of Chinese medicine and how they used plant-based healing to support wellness. It was like almost like with your body at this tug-of-war. It’s like just this slight push and pull. I started to think of my body as a body of water, like an ocean. And when I was in good health, it was just sort of a subtle swell and when I was in out of alignment, there was like a huge swell and ripples and the plants were like these little boats pushing the swell along. That’s how I use them.

You have organized the recipes according to different goals, such as stress management, detox, mood, and sexuality. They are all so important—how does one know where to start? The simple answer is it actually doesn’t matter. What’s going to create the biggest shift in your health is to just launch-and-learn. Choose one recipe. You could be choosing it based on flavor, you could be choosing it based on the ingredients you have in your home. Half of the health impact is just the commitment to using these recipes to support you, to just investing in yourself every day in a simple way. On a more directed answer, I believe digestion is at the foundation of all healing of our microbiome. So it’s the system that speaks to all the systems and if it is disaligned then everything is disaligned. That for me is the greatest pillar. So if I was going to pick up this book, I would choose one digestion recipe as foundational health and then I would choose one thing that is specific to my current need. I have a challenge sleeping and then some weeks, my mood feels better than others. So then I would choose a stress management or sleep or skin recipe to support my in-the-moment need.

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Recipe teaser. The Chia Mover, only takes 10 minutes to make and did you know that Chia comes from the same plant family as mint? ✨Find this protein and fiber-rich elixir in the book! And enjoy it’s benefits so so soon! Pre order on @amazon today. *⠀ *⠀ *⠀ *⠀ #BeautyWater #Wellness #WaterWithPurpose #BookLaunch #WellnessBook #Water #WellBeing ⠀ #Purpose #Heal #VancouverAuthor⠀ #Women #WellnessJourney #InsideWork

A post shared by Beauty Water (@beautywaterwellness) on May 25, 2019 at 8:56am PDT

There is a section of elixirs for women’s sexuality and libido, which is pretty cool. Tell me why that’s important, and what ingredients are the most potent. Schisandra berry has all five flavours and supports the gall bladder, liver, spleen, and pancreas. It helps regulate the hormones in the body and it also supports the digestion. So for me, it’s the one herb that’s like the foundation of healing. I would love every woman to have an intimate relationship with Schisandra berry. The only side effect is that you feel horny!

In the Beauty elixirs section, you write “When you’re well hydrated and your mineral levels are optimal, your cells are thoroughly oxygenated and you exude more pheromones. You literally have the It factor.” We all want the It factor. What are some of the best ingredients to achieve it? Antioxidants are a really great way to do that as they help bind oxygen in the body, called an ORAC [Oxygen Radical Absorbance Capacity] value. Some ingredients have a higher ORAC value than others. As an example, blueberries have about 15,000 units per hundred milligrams, and chaga, which is a medicinal mushroom, has 120,000 units per hundred milligrams. I have a love affair with chaga. It tastes absolutely incredible. The Chaga Coffee recipe is one of my favourites in the book. It’s how I get my game face on personally. Another of my tops is nettles—if I were going to have one food left on Earth, I would have nettles. It is so nutritionally dense. It grows wild all over B.C. It’s incredible for your skin. It’s incredibly high in minerals, it’s great for anxiety and reducing puffiness and it is a really great source of protein. It is a fully complete and complex food.

You talk a lot in the book about adaptogens. Can you explain? An adaptogen is almost like your body’s personal trainer. It will respond to the stress response in your body and basically support your systems coming into regulation. So it doesn’t do the job. It tells your body to do the job, which is a great way to probably explain an adaptogen. It helps our body manage the effects of stress and all of us in the 21st century are facing stress, and conceptually, we understand that we need to work our muscles out to maintain a fit and healthy and taught body. Well, our organs are the same. Some of my favorite adaptogens are ashwagandha bark that supports the adrenal glands and the cortisol on the body and reishi, which is a mushroom that is really supportive to the liver and the nervous system.

What is your own go-to recipe in the book and why? I love my blue green algae recipe for its agility. It’s something that children will love and it’s something that my parents love. It tastes incredible and it’s also just a really creative way to put a lot of nutrients and life in your body. It helps fight free radicals. I’ve served it as a lemonade, I’ve served it as a mocktail, I’ve even made it as a cocktail. I serve it as a hangover cure. I drink it when I feel like I’m about to get sick. So this is sort a go-to and I think everybody will love it. I also also absolutely love my Fo-Ti Fountain of Youth. It tastes like a Creamsicle and it’s a great way to manage the effects of stress on your body. For women specifically, it supports the hormones and it actually helps your hair to come back from graying after quite a few months. I grayed really young and so I love this herb [Fo-Ti] because it helps me break even with my gray hairs.

What do you hope people take away from reading and using your book? I’d want them to go away feeling inspired to start a relationship of self-care, whatever that looks like. To feel good about feeling good, whether it’s with your children, at your job, or just generally in the world. And I would want them to know that wellness can be as accessible as hydration. Empowerment is at the foundation of everything, and I think self-care is what’s going to change the world because behind self-care can come personal accountability. When we are in a state to feel well enough to be present, we can just make better choices.

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