The moment Zeno caught wind of you getting injured during a mission, his world immediately stops. A weight as heavy as the pouring rain outside the window bears down on him and a surge of unrepressed, unfamiliar feelings come rushing through his entire being like a rude awakening. In this trancelike state, fear takes over unforgivingly. He can’t help it when the sudden realization hits him. He's terrified of losing you.
“Mr. Zeno?”
The soft spoken voice of his secretary unexpectedly pulls him out of his stupor. That’s when he becomes awfully aware of the prolonged breath he’s been holding and the tight grip he has on the electronic tablet partially resting atop his desk.
“Mr. Zeno, today’s scheduled meeting is with Dr. Gideon.” His secretary continues, her gaze darts to the dark colored designer suit he chose to wear today. “Shall I book a conference room?”
“Cancel that.” Zeno abruptly stands up from his seat, seemingly agitated but conscious enough to not let it show completely. The work tablet and official matters are all forgotten as he circles the desk to stand next to her. He mentions your name, the sound of it tugs at the increasing anxiety stirring inside him. “Where is she? Tell me.”
Surprised, his secretary slightly backs away from him, eyes trained downward and unsure if she should implore him to rethink the decision to cancel such an important meeting. Nevertheless, with a nervous tone, she gives him the answer he desperately seeks. “In the medical ward.”
Time appears to blur afterwards, in which Zeno barely feels present in his own body. From storming out of his office to the moment he’s standing all alone in an elevator, his fingers clumsily fumble with an unlit cigarette before he ultimately decides to shove it in his pocket. He knows that wouldn’t help much with the swirling doubt and endless train of thoughts haunting him. Out of all the things that could have happened to you, his heart wouldn’t be able to handle the worst case scenario, because you cannot be so cruel as to leave him all alone in this world, he won’t allow you to. Zeno shifts his weight from one foot to another, his composed exterior on the brink of shattering into a million tiny pieces as a looming sense of dread washes over him and with it, memories of the past come flooding back. An unknown, wicked voice in his own mind whispers, blaming and shaming him to no end. That day, when you looked up at him so endearingly and foolishly promised to follow him and his selfish ambitions, no matter how dangerous and outrageous they sounded, he shouldn't have let you. But how could he not get attached to the happy glint in your eyes whenever he complimented your abilities? To become a suitable agent for the Connections meant enduring arduous physical and mental training, yet it only served as motivation for you to strive forward, a silent motivation to work harder if it ensured standing beside Zeno. That was years ago and you haven’t exactly changed since then, still the ever so kind, resilient woman he first fell in love with. He’s undoubtedly so proud of you, so enamored by the way you never fail to exceed his expectations every time he thinks you’re already too perfect, but is it truly all worth it when the risk of losing you is always present? That day, he really shouldn’t have let you.
It’s not until the sharp sound of the elevator doors opening that Zeno comes back to reality with a startled look, which quickly morphs into an obvious scowl, brows knit and a tightened jaw. He shuffles his feet, walking out of the enclosed space towards the fairly empty medical center, exclusively built for the organization for privacy and secrecy reasons mostly. Zeno strides forward, his eyes following the figure of a nurse before promptly calling her over with a simple request to be shown to the room you’re in. Without any questions from her end, the nurse compliantly leads him there.
In spite of Zeno’s best efforts to keep his anxious thoughts at bay, when the nurse scans her work ID card and the door to your room opens, his breath unexpectedly hitches, heart pounding in his burdened chest. Once he sets foot inside, the first thing his senses pick up is a blend of strong-smelling antiseptic, deodorizer and clinical chemicals. The light fixture mounted on the ceiling engulfs the surroundings with a blaring fluorescence. Zeno’s shielded eyes desperately search for you and when he does find your slouching figure sitting on the edge of the bed, a sigh of relief leaves his lips.
“We finished running the essential tests for her, but the injuries haven’t all been treated. There’s still-” The nurse stops mid-sentence at the sudden movement of Zeno raising his gloved hand.
“I’ll take care of it. You can go.”
Those words left no room for discussion, the nurse could see it in the way he angles his head enough to peer at her through dark tinted glasses and the authoritativeness in his tone. Knowing the position Zeno holds in the organization, there’s no other option for her but to abide by such orders, thus leaving the room, causing the door to shut with a soft click, indicating the instant activation of the locking mechanic.
A deafening silence hangs in the air while Zeno chooses to approach you slowly, careful not to make any sound, somehow afraid he might scare you off. Rounding the corner of the bed to stand where you are, his eyes widen at the devastating state of your appearance. Disheveled damp hair, blood stained clothing with dirt spots scattered all over, bruised skin drenched in sweat, ragged breathing, a tired look in your eyes and a small smile painted on your lips.
Sinking to his knees right in front of you, the tangy metallic scent of fresh blood evading his nose swiftly sways his composure and he falters to regain even the slightest bit of control left in him. A shaky exhale escapes Zeno, gloved fingers softly wrap around your cold, clenched fists as his worried gaze travels upwards to meet your own. When he manages to speak, his usual calming deep voice clearly wavers. “Baby, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt anywhere?” These questions fall from his trembling lips at a hurried pace, his eyes warily scanning each and every part of you for any sign of serious injury.
“Are you here to scold me?” The hoarseness in your exhausted tone of voice shatters his heart, the hold on your hands tightens.
“Why would I?” Zeno’s lips quirk into a small grin, a breathy nervous chuckle leaves him. “Sweetheart, why would I be mad at you? I was so worried, I thought…” He cuts himself off, unable to even utter the next words. “Nevermind. Tell me, are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”
Seeing Zeno being this attentive and delicate, a special privilege only you get to experience, makes the aching pain in your limbs seem distant. The rubbing motion of his thumbs over the back of your hands is soothing to your scarred, tender skin. “I’m okay.” You lie, still smiling like a fool despite the agonizing soreness circulating throughout your body. “The job I was assigned gave me instructions to follow a target, catch them discreetly and bring them back for interrogation. It was supposed to be quick and simple, but..” You trail off, your thoughts drift to the distressing situation you were in just a couple hours ago. “I got ambushed out of nowhere by a group of unidentified individuals.” You sigh, shaking your head to get rid of those unpleasant memories. “I managed to get rid of most of them, but I guess I wasn’t so lucky as to come out of it unscaved. It would’ve been really bad if I didn’t have back up on stand by.” A cheeky giggle escapes you, somehow unbothered by such an implication.
Zeno stays quiet for a minute, silently processing the information you’ve just given him. A bubbling anger viciously simmers inside him, his jaw tenses once more, brows creased in a frustrated facial expression where his pronounced dark veiny marks throb in perfect harmony with his boiling ire. But it isn’t the time for this, not when he urgently needs to look after you and nurture you back to health. So, he closes his eyes for a short moment before opening them as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. Zeno carefully leans forward, his lips press to your knuckles in a faint, gentle kiss. “I’m glad you’re safe.” He whispers against your skin, gradually calming down.
Separating himself from you, Zeno stands up to remove his suit jacket, draping it over your shoulders afterwards. The heat from the expensive woolen suit engulfs you in a comforting warmth, a contrast to the chilly air you had to endure outside today. You watch him adjust his clip-on glasses by flipping the dark tinted lenses upward, leaving only the prescription ones underneath, his golden irises briefly glance at you, this time thoroughly examining your debilitated state.
Zeno gets to work right away. He retrieves a couple clean towels from the bedside table, using one of them to prudently dry your hair for a while, during which a pleasant silence dances between you two. Drinking in the sight before you, it’s unreal to think how far Zeno has come since you’ve started dating. He’s not as reserved as he used to be, not so afraid to open up about his feelings and certainly caring more than ever. A powerful businessman who deals in lethal bioweapons for a secret corporation and a mere clone living in the shadow of the person he was designed to be, is now nothing but an affectionate boyfriend tending to the woman he so profoundly loves.
Zeno gingerly wraps the towel around your hair, hoping it would help absorb the rest of the moisture. Then, he makes himself comfortable by cautiously sitting beside you, causing the mattress to slightly sink under his weight. Reaching for the other unused towel, he folds it in half for more precise handling so he could wipe away all the dirt and sweat away from your face, neck and hands. It makes your heart flutter with the way he’s so concise and focused on not trying to hurt you, the patting motions along your skin feels almost featherlike.
“I’m sorry. I lost the target.” You pout, hot tears threatening to fall from your eyes, maybe the exhaustion made you more emotional than usual. “Are you gonna stop me from taking more missions now? Am I gonna have to quit? Oh, right. I know too much, they’ll just get rid of me.”
“I’m inclined to believe you wouldn’t accept that outcome. Nor me or you. If anyone dares lay a finger on you, it’ll be their last day alive.” He casually assures you, and he means it wholeheartedly. “I’ll take care of the matter. Do not worry about it. Miscellaneous concerns like such should be irrelevant to you right now.”
Zeno’s words dripped with confidence, sotness twinkling in his eyes as your gaze interlocks with his, it melts your heart further, cooling down the bitter tears that were about to fall and with them, your anxious state. Your body relaxes underneath his touch, though the forming headache and stinging burn from your wounds are still painfully present.
“Take off your shirt. I need to see if there’s any critical injuries you’re probably hiding from me.” Zeno spoke with a calculated cadence, hastily slipping the leather gloves off his hands, revealing alabaster skin adorned with the same intricate dark marks you absolutely adore. Albeit, the alluring sight doesn’t last for long as he grasps a pair of nitrile gloves from the medical kit atop the table, making sure to slide his fingers in a sterile manner while still sealing them for a snug fit. His hands hang upward.
“Why, take me to dinner first.” You cheekily quip, a playful smile dancing on your lips, yet when you get no reaction from him, you sigh. “You’re no fun.”
Peeling off his suit jacket, a wince slips from your lips as you wiggle your upper body to remove your muddied shirt, throwing it to the side haphazardly before one of your hands flies to cover a deep red cut across your forearm.
“Show me.” Zeno’s voice drops an octave lower. You know he’s not messing around anymore.
Breathing in a good lungful, you muster up the courage to lift your hand, uncovering the extent of the damage to his unyielding stare. He’s not exactly furious, simply assessing the situation.
Meticulously, Zeno slides a gloved hand under your arm, bringing it closer to him. His glowing amber eyes carefully inspect the angry raw edges of torn skin. “How did you get it? Does it hurt a lot?” He asks, tilting his head to scan every possible angle.
“It was a knife, I think.” Your face twists in a grimace. “I guess, yeah. It hurts a little.”
A slight yank of your wounded arm makes you yelp. He really had to prove you wrong so unexpectedly
“Ah! Zeno, you fucking-”
“Don’t lie to me.” His steady velvety voice drifts through your ears. “I have to know everything in order to help you heal perfectly."
Regardless of the hurtful hit your pride has taken, you resign to faithfully answering his previous questions. “I remember it was a sharp, pocket knife. Yes, it hurts very fucking much. Is that enough for you?” The cutting edge to your tone is evident by the growing irritation from all the mental strain of aching pain and heavy fatigue.
However, Zeno takes no offense to it, fully aware that your current psyche is obviously not at its best. Instead, he tries to focus on gathering his thoughts to prepare for the right treatment. He can tell it’s a laceration. Whether it has been infected or not, he has no idea, but he’ll keep it in mind either way. No visible major blood vessels are damaged and there’s little to no blood oozing out from it. Zeno lets out a subtle sigh of relief. “Did you put pressure on it? Any other symptoms?”
“Yes, of course I put pressure on it. It stopped bleeding like a while ago.” You answer. A wave of tiredness washes over you. “Symptoms… I’m dizzy, nauseous, my head feels pressurized, I have goosebumps all over, my throat is dry and this stupid light above me is way too bright.” You cough a couple times, cringing at the way it tickles your throat. “Pretty sure it’s a fever.”
He actively listens to you talk as his other free hand reaches for the bottled saline solution placed on the tray kit. “Sorry, baby, this will hurt a bit.” His gentle voice and sympathetic gaze align so dreamily with his attractive facial features.
The second Zeno vigorously squirts the liquid solution over the ragged wound to remove any debris or bacteria, it sends a shot of electrifying pain through you. “Damn it!” Biting your lower lip to stifle a sob, your eyes glisten, bleary with tears.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It’ll be over soon. I promise.” Zeno reassuring words fill the surrounding air as he immediately sets the bottled solution aside to stretch his arm and fetch a handful of non-fluffy gauze from the kit, which he instantly uses to pat the area dry. Thankfully they seem to soak all of the blood that has been left. Irrigating is done.
Zeno worryingly peers at you through clear prescription lenses, observing each shake of your shoulders in a failed attempt to suppress your sobs. His chest tightens again, his next question comes out in a weak whisper. “Darling, are you okay?”
At this point, you barely realise you’re panting until you speak. “Yeah, yeah, I am. Just continue.”
By elevating your arm over your heart level to reduce blood flow, Zeno applies a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the sensitive cut skin before covering it with a non-stick pad. To secure it, he firmly wraps a gauze roll over your forearm, ensuring by the end it’s not too tight or uncomfortable for you. A snappy sound of elastic stretching crowds the air as Zeno peels off the nitrile gloves, discarding them absentmindedly. He stands up, offering you enough space to lie down.
The worsening fever causes you to drift in and out of consciousness. A vague sensation of strong, muscular arms helping your trembling frame recline against the cushiony bed feels almost distant. Words are lost on you, finding it hard to even thank him for his kindness. Your unfocused gaze tries to follow Zeno’s superhuman speed motions where he strips the rest of your clothing down, taking the chance to wipe all the dirt and blood away. He disappears to grab a change of clothes and shortly comes back to tentatively help you slip into them. In the blink of an eye, you’re already tucked under a cozy blanket, the room now dimly lit with the only source of light emanating from the bedside lamp. Your head is spinning, heart violently thumping at the rising temperature of your fatigued body.
“Sweetheart, you need to take these.” Zeno’s voice is above a whisper, he snakes an arm around your back, aiding you to lean forward so he can feed you a couple of anti-inflammatory medicine and the necessary antibiotics. Slowly setting you back down, he makes sure to properly cover you with the smooth, cottony blanket.
The calloused palm of his naked hand gently caresses your cheek, the pads of his fingertips run along your forehead, the heat emerging from it seeps into his own skin. His saddened expression deepens as he watches you fall asleep, still frightened he might lose you in some way overnight.
Zeno leans down to plant a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. “Rest, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He murmurs against your soft skin, words spoken to comfort rather than be heard by your sleeping figure.
He has no plans to leave this room until you’ve woken up anyway. He’ll stay right here by your side, because you are and always will be his first priority.
The Saja Girls look amazing! You just have this way of drawing temptresses and tempters. You just breathe such... power and delight into people when they're seducing someone. It's kinda like the vampire bad boys used to be. They scream "You're going to give me everything, and you're going to love doing it."
FUCK a dead silent scene just popped into my head, and now I feel I should share it with you.
The batfam realize something is wrong with Cass. She started acting really weird... and... touchy... like in a bad way. Sure she's always been more of a physical person than a talkative one (Thanks David -_-) but now it's bordering on... inappropriate. They've called Zatanna to come check it out. She said she's on her way and warned them to NOT let her get "with" anyone because she might have a demon of some kind inside her.
They're not too worried. The media already knows she's a bit of a homebody, so keeping her locked up in the manor won't look weird. The only thing they're worried about is Danny. They haven't been able to get a hold of him, and he's famously unable to resist his badass girlfriend.
Well, speak of the devil. Danny suddenly pops up in the foyer and flat-out announces that he's tired and wants to relax and unwind with Cass. He spots her and she shoots him a look that says "I'm going to rock your world and make you beg for me."
Everything seems to pause for a second. Before anyone can warn him, Danny absolutely blasts towards Cass. Now everyone's alarms are blaring for several reasons. But Danny rockets through Cass. He comes out on the other side with some random demon in one of his claws looking more furious than many of them have ever seen him.
(Context
Yay! Tysm! I'm honestly sick and tired of people who force girls to be manly simply bc they don't like a girl doing girly things when winning against men. That's why I love drawing long nails and pretty clothes when my girls are being badasses :D)
Everyone recoiled at the sight of the red and smoky being in front of him.
"What the hell is that?!" Jason cried, his All-Blades immediately sliding into his hands.
As Cass fell in a dead faint, Stephanie quickly darted forward to catch her and then both of them pulled back.
"A lust demon," Danny sneered. His hand tightened around the thing's throat. "You thought that you could drain her and her family's life forces by being clingy, huh? And then you could seduce me? Rethink again. Your filthy tricks can't fool me."
A green fire burst out of Danny's hands and the demon screamed with a heartbreaking wail. It struggled within Danny's grip, but eventually, its writhing weakened until it was a twitching piece of jerky.
Steph asked tremblingly, "I-Is it dead?"
"No," Danny said coldly, as he turned to drag the demon out the door with him. "It's not dead. But it'll wish it was after I bring this thing to the Ghost Zone for interrogation."
Everyone winced, seeing his fury plain on his face.
Tim asked, "Wait! Danny, what about Cass?"
Danny's gaze softened. "She'll be okay. Just let her sleep for a little while, she may feel uncomfortable but there shouldn't be lasting effects on her. It'll take me a little while to come back, so—"
"I'll wait for you," a voice interrupted and everyone turned to look at Cass, who sat up in Steph's arms. She looked tired, but still smiled at Danny softly. "I'll wait for you to come back... 'kay? We'll watch movies... unwind, and I'll ask Alfred to make dinner."
Like the clouds parting to reveal the sun, the smile on Danny's face was extremely warm and almost blinding, unlike his murderous rage from before.
"Okay. Wait for me to come home, starlight," Danny said, almost a coo before he excitedly waved and then flew off happily.
Still dragging the burnt body of the lust demon behind him.
"That guy is so two faced," Jason muttered under his breath, resheathing his All-Blades.
The rest of them all shared a look in silent, weary agreement, not looking at Cass' smitten gaze to avoid hurting their eyes.
summary: working at The Daily Planet as a senior staffer and soon-to-be editor means you kind of have to be friends with your co-workers. That only applies to two and a half people for Jade Jones: Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, and half of Clark Kent. She's doom and gloom and pessimism, whereas Clark is sunshine and rainbows and optimism. But you know what they say; opposites attract...
warnings: mentions of size difference, mildly suggestive, jokes about handjobs
Phones ringing. Keyboards clanking. Coffee machines whirring. The soothing sounds of the Daily Planet office lull me into my zone as I work on another article about the recent damages done by, yet again, Superman. In Metropolis it seems to be the only even slightly interesting or news worthy angle to take, so here I am for the millionth time.
"Whach'ya workin' on?" Jimmy leaned against the edge of my cubicle with a mug in his hands as he looked at the bright screen in front of me. Jimmy is one of the only people that I can tolerate in this office. He's one of the only people I can tolerate, period. Strange, really, he's...kind of annoying sometimes.
"Another Superman is a hero but at what cost piece," I muttered, doing air quotes around the mid-section of my sentence. I quickly returned my hands to the keyboard, my fingers freezing for a moment before figuring out what I wanted to say next.
"Yeah, I mean, I like the guy, don't get me wrong, but, I feel like the damage we see when he's done is almost comparable to what could happen if he never got involved," Jimmy agreed with me, leaning in closer to see what I was typing. "Ooh, good line. Destroying intergalactic foes isn't always an excuse for obliterating local and national economies. Superman kills his millionth opponent while the government spends its 500 billionth dollar," Jimmy placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, "Tear him to shreds for me Jade."
"Will do, Olsen. These claws sink deep," I replied with not an ounce of amusement in my voice. There was supposed to be, so I don't really know what happened there.
"I don't think our first worry should be the economy here. I mean, Superman is saving your life, you shouldn't be thinking about money. Without Superman, you wouldn't even have anything to spend money on. There would be no money, there would- there would be no you." Clark Kent butt in from the other side of my cubicle, peering over the top with ease.
"Oh can it, Kansas. We all know you have a secret little picture of Superman in your filing cabinet. What's next, a rub and tug?" I teased, locking eyes with the large man. As much as he bothers me, I have to give him credit for his physique. It's hard to believe that such an amazing body belongs to such an awkward guy.
"Oh my- that's-w-why would you even-I-I," he exhaled gruffly, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"You got it," I genuinely smiled at how flustered he got. I don't think I've smiled at all yet today. Thank you Clark for being so embarrassing.
"I just think that maybe not everything is about money. Superman is a hero, and, sure, sometimes when he's done there a lot to clean up but, he makes sure that at least-at least there's something to clean up." He finishes, stuttering a bit but not too much; just enough to still understand him. And, admittedly, he makes a good point.
"I guess you're kinda right, Smallville," I sighed defeated, I pondered his remark with my nails pinching my bottom lip. My eyes flicked over to him over the cubicle once more, "Mind if I use that in my article?"
//
The clock struck 8PM when I finally finished rendering the end of my article. Clark's thoughts had me rethinking some of my original statements and I thought maybe I could find a way to rework some of the angles I initially took. Who knew a small-town farmer boy could make me think so much?
Speaking of Clark Kent, he was still at the office. Only the two of us remained when I finally clicked the power button on my computer and began packing up my things.
"You're not gonna miraculously be done at the same time as me are you?" I teased as I shoved my laptop into my bag and started sticking Post-It's to papers piled on my desk.
"W-what? N-no, I was just working on a Boravia-Jarhanpur piece, I-I promise I wasn't-," he rambled, hands shaking against his keyboard.
"Relax, cattleman, that was a joke," I teased him as I stepped out from behind my desk. I took a few steps until I reached his cubicle and I squinted at the brightness of his computer. "Jesus, grandpa, why's it so bright?" I leaned down, my hair falling over his shoulder as I reached to turn the brightness down. I shoved his hand out of the way of the key but was taken by surprise at the weight of his hands. I knew that they were big but they impossibly look even bigger next to mine on his keyboard. It took some force for me to move just one.
"Sorry, I guess I didn't really notice," he fumbled, pressing his glasses back up his nose. I placed my hands on his broad shoulders as I read his article. He stiffened immediately and the shortening of his breath didn't go unnoticed. A confident smirk landed on my face, one he couldn't see at all.
"Nothing to apologize for, I just don't know how you don't get a headache," I gave his shoulders a quick squeeze, marveling at the strength that he hides under his over-sized suit jacket. "Jarhanpur continues to drown under the bloody waters of Boravian dictatorVasil Ghuroks' reign. Solid wordplay there, Kent, that's great, honestly," I complimented, giving the firm muscles another squeeze.
"Really, ya' think so?" He spun toward me in his chair to ask, unsure of his talent. My hands dropped from his shoulders and I leaned onto the filing cabinet behind me, folding my arms over my chest.
"Yeah, that's a cool move with the whole reign and rain thing. I like it," I nodded, my voice coming out raspy as usual. Lois thinks that it's the hottest thing ever; it's just all I've ever known. For once he looked up at me. I'm usually looking up his nose when I speak to him, so this is a great change of perspective. While I'm probably only two inches taller than him when he's sitting down, it still makes me feel better about our dynamic at this moment. 6'4" and 5'1"... it's pretty clear who was the upper hand here. Literally.
Our eyes locked for a moment and his usually nervous face softened into something much more trusting and confident, "Thank you, Jade, that means a lot."
The contrast was driving me crazy. Sitting in front of me is a 6 and a half foot, 240 pound behemoth of a man. His biceps threaten to tear his button down and his pants squeeze the life out of his meaty thighs. His legs are spread, unafraid to take up the space he needs. His chair creaks whenever he moves, suffering under his immense weight and size. But when you speak to him; when you look at him, you'd think he had no idea how big he was. How much power he exuded. He rarely made eye contact with people, he could never take a compliment, he would stutter, and his cheeks would turn pink if you paid him any attention. At times it was kind of frustrating. I just wish, for once, he was aware of how powerful he really was.
"Clark, this is gonna sound weird but I have to ask," I looked away briefly, thinking of the right words, "Do you...work for...How do I say this?" I stopped myself before I revealed my very personal thoughts. Clark only tilted his head with confusion laced in his expression. His own arms crossed over his chest while I brought a hand to pinch my bottom lip again.
"I don't know, city girl, what're you tryin' to say?" I tried to hide the way the nickname made my hair stand up. This is Clark, I thought to myself. This is Clark Kent, he can't make you feel this way.
"It's just like-", I gestured a measurement with my hands, pulling them apart sideways and then lengthwise. He only tilted his head and rolled his lips into his mouth, his eye brows rising only to furrow slightly. "Okay, dude, you're, like, huge."
Clark released his lips from his mouth and let out a soft chuckle, a low sound that drew something foreign out of me; something I couldn't quite name.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment or...?" He squinted, still chuckling slightly. I leaned up from the filing cabinet and took a few steps to my right, away from the walkway and deeper into his cubicle.
"I was just thinking, idiot," I gave him an accusatory look, setting myself on the edge of his desk, facing him, "All I ever hear about your life is you coming here and then going home. You never talk about what else you do, and, I mean, you have to do something to look like that because there's no way anyone just looks like that.
"So you're asking if I work out," he asked, though it was more a statement than it was a question; something I couldn't talk my way out of. I only half nodded. "Then yes, I do work out. I did, for a long time, anyway. Growing up tossing hay bales definitely helped too."
I noticed one thing right away: he wasn't flustered. For once, Clark Kent was not stuttering. His cheeks only pinked up a little bit, but he held eye contact and he spoke unbroken. Is Clark Kent secretly a gym rat? He spun back to his computer rather quickly and turned it off. I just stood against his desk and watched as he gathered his things. He reached behind me to grab his laptop, which was plugged into a charger against the wall. His forearm brushed my hip and it lingered for a moment too long. I didn't mind. When his things were packed, he stood from the orange office chair. I instantly felt some of my confidence dissipate. I began to feel small again.
"You also probably think I'm much larger than I really am, little miss five-feet tall," He smirked and rustled my hair, his fingers reaching the edges of my head, before he turned and began walking out of his cubicle, toward the elevator. I swiped my bag and followed him.
"First of all, I am not five feet tall, I'm five one," I defended my honor and he blew air in a loud pfft sound, tossing his head back a hair. "And second of all, Jimmy and Steve say the same thing and they're fully grown men."
"Ah, so you talk about me?" He questioned, smirking and looking down and to the side, into my eyes, after he pressed the button on the elevator.
"Oh my God, this is-this is why I don't talk to you," I said with a deadpan expression, pressing a hand to my forehead.
"Says the one who came into my office, to look at my article, and to talk to me," he observed, floating hand behind my lower back to guide me into the elevator before him. I pressed the ground level as he followed. I leaned against the railing on one side and he leaned against the other. I didn't answer, I only stared ahead into his blue eyes, my expression, yet again, uninviting.
"Ya' know what drew me in?" I smirked, wanting to tease him a little. I bit my lip only slightly and I saw the unmistakable drop of his eyes to my mouth and the bobbing of his Adam's Apple.
"W-what?" There's that stutter. I'm back, baby. I stepped closer to him, grabbing his skinny black tie that looks way too small for his broad chest, and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. I felt his breath hasten across my shoulder, hot and fast, even through my t-shirt. I waited a beat before answering, making sure my timing wasn't off.
"Your silence," I said softly in his ear, exhaling into his neck, before I pressed a firm hand against his chest to create more distance. With that, the door to the elevator opened and I spun toward the separating pieces. I walked out with his tie still in my hand. I let it drag across my palm, which was extended over my shoulder, as I exited. "Goodnight, Kansas."
//
a/n: okay guys, here it is!! this is my first clark kent piece and i'm so friggin excited. i'm definitely going to post a part 2; i plan for this to be a series. lmk your thoughts and anything that you want to see. hope you like it!!
Christ on a cracker, no one seems to be able to act normal about this SaveAFox shit. I remember even back a couple years ago, I'd heard some criticisms of how she handled things, simply agreed "Yeah that sounds a bit concerning, I won't be watching her stuff," and then moved on, maybe on occasion gave friends a heads up if they posted her stuff, but otherwise, just... moving on.
I remember getting agitated when what started as very mild criticisms started to evolve into post after post into dedicated tag for her into Google Doc Callout Post™ and just feeling deeply annoyed by this being a constant cycle, and unfollowed some folks because of it. People who remember my old blog probably remember my post talking about people on Animalblr (? is that the word) I found annoying, this was part of why.
And in a way, it's a bit... cathartic? That may not be the right word for it. The irony of it all, is that the people who were most vocal about this, I could say the same thing for them that I would've said about Mikayla, which is that they were well-intended (caring about animal welfare and having real concerns) but still irresponsible (documenting literally every thing the woman did in dedicated tags; this was bound to attract bad faith actors and concern trolls!)
I honestly hadn't thought about Mikayla for a long time until this happened today, because, again, my response was simply "Well I won't watch those videos" then moving on. I didn't keep a dedicated tag to documenting everything she did. Hearing the news was honestly devastating, because I don't care what a person did, they don't deserve to die. I never even thought of Mikayla as a bad person, just well-intended but irresponsible, even if she were a "bad person" I wouldn't think she deserved to die.
So, fuck you if you sincerely consider this a "win," if you have no regrets about anything you did. I personally now have regrets trusting the word of some of these individuals, seeing as it has now escalated to this point. And sure, Ethan said it was because of people she knew and other sanctuaries, but let's not pretend rumors don't spread. I remember when I saw the doc in particular, I was disgusted that her having an OnlyFans even came up, it just ruined the credibility of the entire doc, no matter what legitimate concerns you may have had about Mikayla's animal welfare, because her having an OF... has nothing to do with her welfare! But that being information other sanctuaries could've found out about could've still ruined her credibility with them regardless, since, y'know, people fucking hate women who have a sexuality?
I will also say, I do think some of her defenders are going way too far, and I do not approve of this. I think it's kinda ridiculous to accuse every single person who's ever mildly criticized her, especially if it was years ago, and/or came from a person who's been inactive on Tumblr for half a year, of being "murderers." I've seen people hurling slurs (mostly the R-slur), being transphobic (because Owlvid in particular is trans), making threats about doxxing people and/or raping them and their family members... what the hell is wrong with you? There is no childish "But they did it first-" here, you are engaging in the exact kind of behavior that lead to Mikayla's death, and that's disgusting, what we're learning from this shouldn't be "Let's keep up this cycle of vengeance!" or "Let's document everything someone we don't like does!" No, do not entertain the idea of the "callout post." That's how we get here in the first place. Block. Move on. Curate. That's what the people who didn't like her content should've done, too.
May Mikayla rest in peace, my heart goes out to her family, I hope Ethan can get the funds that he needs in order to take care of his daughter, and I hope the animals can, at least, be rehomed to other sanctuaries, should Ethan not receive proper funding.
There's been a lot of recent events making me rethink how quickly I and others jump the gun when it comes to animal welfare concerns, and this is one of them.
Set during hide and seek - you’re a seeker, you’re min-su’s high school best friend, one sided feelings, Se-mi is still alive in this so he isn’t tripping on drugs
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ꒰ ᧔ 🏩 ᧓ ꒱ ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
breakfast had just been handed out, Se-mi and Min-su were engrossed in a casual conversation. min-su, however, found his attention drifting as he laid eyes on his beloved crush and childhood best friend, (name), who had somehow made it into this hellhole of a place. The intensity of min-su’s love for you was suffocating, to the point where Min-su was desperate to confess his feelings even in these conditions.
And then, like a mirage materializing before his eyes, you, the object of his intense obsession , appeared just a few feet away. The mere sight of you caused Min-su’s heart to skip several beats, his breath catching in his throat. love that made him lose himself in fantasies, thinking to himself that (name) loves him back.
Se-mi’s words faded into the background as min-su’s gaze was fixated solely on your mesmerizing form. Every step you took seemed to illuminate the path before min-su, drawing him closer to an inevitable confrontation. His hands began to tremble, his palms growing sweaty with anticipation.
"Min-su, are you okay?" Se-mi asked, her tone laced with slight concerned.
Min-su snapped out of his daze, swallowing hard before responding, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I want to go talk to (name), but I'm feeling a bit nervous."
Se-mi smirked, immediately recognizing what was going on. She knew all too well the depths of min-su’s obsession with you, but this level of hesitancy was unusual.
"Alright, min-su, you got this," se-mi reassured him, masking her amusement. "Just go up to (name) and tell him what you want to say. Don't hold back!”
With a sheepish smile, min-su mustered the courage to approach you, determination glinting in his eyes. As min-su approached you, his palms slick with nervous sweat, he was already rethinking his decision.
Though unable to resist the magnetic pull of his desires any longer, Min-su stumbled over his words, finally managing to utter a breathless request, "(name)... I... I've been meaning to ask you... umm... would you... go out with me?"
His voice was laced with nervousness, his heart pounding so violently in his chest that he feared you could hear it, the possibility of rejection never truly occurred to him. In his twisted mind, you already belonged to him, and him alone.
(Name) turned to face min-su, their eyes locking in an intense gaze. A glimmer of surprise and curiosity danced in your eyes, igniting a faint spark of hope within min-su’s tormented soul. Maybe, just maybe, you would finally recognize the depth of min-su’s devotion.
"Cute," you replied dismissively, his voice dripping with a chilling indifference. "But I'm not interested in love, min-su." He didn't understand what was happening, "what I'm saying is that I'm not interested in any form of relationship, especially not here.”
You turned to leave him, se-mi who was watching from afar, quickly went over to min-su to see if he was okay. However, min-su was almost in tears! clearly heartbroken by you're sudden departure.
"Hey, it's alright!" se-mi reassured him, a warm smile plastered on her face. "Maybe (name) didn't want to be embarrassed in front of people. It's possible he didn't mean to hurt you."
Min-su sniffled and nodded, appreciating se-mi’s comforting words. "Yeah, you're probably right. i shouldn't take it so personally."
Encouraged by Min-su’s response, Se-mi decided to offer him some advice. "You know, Min-su, maybe you can try to impress him. Try to find out what he like or discover his interests. Show him that you genuinely care about connecting with him."
Min-su’s confusion was evident, his brows furrowed in contemplation. "Impress him? But how? What should I do?"
Se-mi grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, it could be anything! Get to know his hobbies, favorite movies, or even his taste in music. Show him that you share his interests or make an effort to understand his passions. Sometimes, making someone feel seen and appreciated can go a long way. Trust me, min-su, you've got this!"
Min-su’s tear-stained face transformed into a determined expression. "You're right. I'll do my best to impress (name)!”
With newfound hope and Se-mi’s guidance, min-su was ready to take a leap of faith and explore new ways to win your heart.
The games went on as min-su’s love for you only skyrocketed, he would quietly eavesdrop the conversations you had with your group about yourself, slowly learning stuff about you that had changed since high school.
During hide and seek, Min-su was walking along, making his way through the never ending maze, when he unexpectedly caught sight of you standing around the corner. However, what caught his attention even more was the fact that (name) had someone in his arms. Intrigued yet hesitant, Min-su decided to discreetly hide himself, not wanting to interrupt or intrude on their moment.
Peeking from behind the wall, min-su observed you and the mysterious person closely. His heart raced with a mix of concern and envy, wondering who this person could be and what their relationship with you was. As he continued to watch, min-su couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy creeping in, his mind conjuring up various scenarios and possibilities.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the scene he had stumbled upon. Maybe you were simply comforting this individual or someone is trying to steal Min-su’s lover away from him!
With newfound resolve, Min-su emerged from his hiding spot, ready to greet you with a wry smile as if he hadn't witnessed anything out of the ordinary. Min-su will keep an eye on that person and make sure he can be the hero that you deserve.
As he approached you, His heart settled, realizing that bond was strong enough to withstand any uncertainties or fleeting moments of doubt. Whether your actions held deeper meaning or were simply innocent gestures, Min-su knew that your friendship would endure.
And so, as he was about to walk up to you, ready to ruin the friendship with that person, determined to shatter the bond between them. However, as he neared, he caught sight of someone embracing you tightly. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream escaped from the person's lips.
min-su stood in the shadows, his eyes widened in slight disbelief as he watched you kill the innocent hider. It made no sense to him as you had already passed, killing someone before hand. The sight sent shivers down his spine, a mix of horror and fascination gripping his heart.
However, rather than feeling repulsed or frightened, Min-su’s mind took a twisted turn, devising a devious plan. He knew he had to act quickly before you noticed his presence. Min-su desperately wished he had his phone on him to take a photo of how unbelievably hot you looked covered in someone else’s blood.
A sly smirk formed on Min-su’s face as he realized this could become his ultimate weapon, a means to blackmail You into becoming his lover, he could make you out to be some greedy loser killing more people just for money. The thrill of the idea sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins, propelling him forward with a newfound determination.
— CW: Age gap! (Anakin is 40, reader is 23.), Modern!AU, Divorced!Anakin, Love/Touch/AttentionDeprived!Anakin, he overthinks! Kissie! 🤍.
— a/n: You got me at Dilf!Anakin. (Leia and Luke are around 15-16 in this AU!) I think this is gonna be a series! I would love to start a Dilf!Anakin series so send more asks on this one ;).
He knows this is rather idiotic.
But then again... name one time he has done something he doesn't regret.
He could spend hours just rethinking his life…
But— when he sees you sitting at the other side of the table, smiling and glowing like the sun itself, he no longer feels like a pathetic, father of two, divorced 40 year old, but more of a hormonal teenage boy who is having his first date.
"Tell me about them, they sound charming" You say with the most pretty smile Anakin has even seen in his life.
And he was married once.
"Well… Leia is more of an extrovert, she is running for class president and there's no doubt she will win" He replies. He is actually impressed you look so interested in his life. "Luke is a bit more introverted, he's more into art and music… but as long as it makes him happy, guess I'm okay with it"
When he downloaded that confusing dating app at 3 am during one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, he never imaged he would encounter such a lovely young lady as you. Right away he understood people only tried to hook up, and he felt ridiculous for looking something more of a "long–term" thing in a damn app.
After ignoring some desperate texts asking for more pics, for a place to meet, and even for his Snapchat (he has no idea how to use that either), he then found you.
And he was so glad he did.
"I would love to meet them one day" You reply, bringing him back to reality. "I mean— if you want to meet up again, that is" You quickly add, blushing slightly at your straightforward comment.
«I want to see you every goddamned day» Anakin thinks.
You're almost 17 years younger than him, and he should be worried about that, but somehow the idea thrills him.
"That would be nice" He replies, giving you a little smile.
He learns about you, as much as he possible can during the two hours you spend on the restaurant. He sees you smile, and frown, and laugh, his heart racing at the joyous sound of your laughter. You are so beautiful. You are so full of life.
Anakin is so dull, or at least that's what he sees every day in the mirror.
It's been years since he has been on a date. Whatever experience he may have it probably faded with the years.
"I had fun" You speak, holding his arm when you two walk out of the restaurant. Anakin is relieved to know at least you enjoyed spending time with his old ass. "Thank you, and you didn't had to pay for everything, you know?"
"I know" He chuckles. "But I wanted to"
"I should get going. It's getting kinda late and I don't wanna bother you" You start, pulling out your phone from your purse and opening the uber app. Anakin just stares at you, frowning. "What?" You ask quizzically, giving him a curious look.
"I can give you a ride"
"Oh— it's okay! I don't want to bother—"
"It's not a bother, at all"
And he says it with the most sincere tone, his ceruleans irises staring deeply into yours... that you just can't refuse.
"Fine" You give in, squeezing your hand on his arm. Your smile is everything.
He opens the door for you, a gesture that you shouldn't find sweet but you do.
The city lights eclipse the stars, but not the moon. The full, yellow moon shines brightly on top of the tall buildings. For the first few minutes the car ride is silent, as you continue to stare to the moon.
"When Luke was a child he thought the moon was made out of cheese" Anakin says out of the blue, his eyes locked on the road. "And when Leia told him it wasn't, he cried for almost an hour"
Anakin glances at you from his peripheral, smirking when you laugh. He would do anything just to hear you laugh again.
The conversation blooms after that, and he's so sad the ride to your place isn't an hour long instead of 15 minutes.
The goodbye has him feeling awkward. Anakin doesn't know what to do. Should he kiss you? Would that be too much? A hug? That feels too clumsy inside the car. Just a wave feels too little...
His mind races a hundred kilometers per minute.
"Hey" Your voice drags him out of this trance. "I'm so glad we met" You place a hand on top of his, smiling fondly.
He eyes your makeup, did you really did that for him?
He finds himself admiring the color of your eyes, how your eyeshadow matches your skin tone perfectly, the pretty mole on your left cheek, and your lips, plump and soft and glistening with gloss.
"Me too" Anakin replies, mirroring your smile. "Whenever you want to go out again, just text me"
"I will" You nod, tilting your head to the side. "Good night, text me when you get home"
He doesn't want to go.
"I will, sleep well" Anakin feels like he should do something else, but his mind is blank.
Then, you lean closer.
Closer.
Closer.
His lips welcome yours almost instantly. The kiss is soft, a gentle touch he had no idea he was craving. Your lips taste like cherry, and when you close your eyes to kiss him he can't, he looks at your pretty expression and his heart jolts. His left hand cradles your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek.
When you pull away, Anakin has the urge to lean forward, to kiss you again, and never let go.
"Good night" You say one last time before walking down his car and walking towards your house.
Later that night, after he texts letting you know he got home safe, Anakin lays on his empty bed, staring at the ceiling, shirtless, with a storm of thoughts.
Of all the things Anakin Skywalker regrets from his life.
This isn't one.
And he can't wait to see you again.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!
Aira winces as Katara gently rubs ointment onto the burn stretching across her shoulder and upper back. Even after several days, the injury still aches. Not constantly. Just enough to be annoying. Every time she moves too quickly. Every time she forgets and reaches for something. Every time she rolls over while sleeping. The cool ointment eases some of the sting, but Aira still clenches her jaw as Katara works.
"Sorry," Katara says softly.
"It's okay." Aira glances over her shoulder. "Thank you, Katara. For taking care of me."
Katara looks up from the bandages. The kindness in her expression immediately reminds Aira why everyone gravitates toward her. "I'm happy to, Aira." She carefully wraps another layer of bandages around the burn. "It's healing nicely."
Aira sighs in relief. "Good."
Though if she were being honest, she'd prefer if it simply stopped hurting altogether. If only Katara had some kind of magical healing ability…
"Aira?"
She blinks.
"Huh?"
Katara laughs. "I asked if that was too tight."
"Oh." Aira flexes her shoulder experimentally. "It feels fine."
Katara ties off the final bandage. "There."
Aira carefully pulls her shirt back into place.
"You're officially patched up."
==============================
A short while later, the four teens hike through a forest trail in search of supplies. The path winds through tall trees that cast patches of shade across the ground. Eventually they arrive at a bulletin board standing beside the road. Various notices, posters, and advertisements cover the wooden surface.
Katara smiles. "This should give us a good idea of what's around here."
Sokka immediately digs through his empty ration bag. A few lonely crumbs tumble out. He stares at them mournfully. "See if you can find a menu." He tips the bag upside down over his mouth. Nothing falls out. "I'm starving."
"You're always starving," Aira snorts. Then her own stomach growls. The timing is so awful that everyone immediately looks at her. Aira closes her eyes. "...But seriously." She points at the board. "Do you see a menu, Katara?"
Sokka snickers.
Aang suddenly runs up to the board. His eyes light up. "I bet we'll be able to find something here." He points excitedly at a colorful poster. The image shows a grand Fire Nation palace surrounded by flames and dragons. "The Fire Days Festival!" Aang reads rapidly. "Fire Nation cultural exhibits, jugglers, benders, magicians—" His grin grows wider with every word. "This would be a great place for me to study some real firebenders."
Aira can practically see the excitement radiating off him. Whenever Aang talks about learning a new element, he looks like a kid in a sweets shop.
"You might want to rethink that." Sokka's voice immediately ruins the excitement.
Everyone turns. Sokka stands on the opposite side of the board with his arms crossed. He points toward several posters. Wanted posters. Including one of Aang.
Aang perks up. "Hey, a poster of me!"
"A wanted poster." Sokka looks completely unimpressed. "This is bad."
Aira steps closer. The sketch is surprisingly accurate. Too accurate. It even captures Aang's cheerful expression.
Katara nods. "I think we better keep moving."
"They're right, Aang," Aira says. “If we stay, you could get captured again.” She taps the poster. “Everyone in that town has probably seen this poster.”
Aang frowns. He gestures toward the festival. "This could be my only chance to watch actual firebending masters up close."
Katara hesitates. Aira already knows that look. It's the look Katara gets right before she agrees to something she probably shouldn't. Sure enough—
"...I guess we could check it out."
"What?! You want to walk into a Fire Nation town where they’re all fired up with all their, you know, fire?” Sokka says while flailing his hands around.
“We’ll wear disguises, if it looks like trouble, we’ll leave,” Katara says while walking away, already having made up her mind.
Aang immediately brightens and practically bounces after her. Sokka and Aira remain standing beside the bulletin board, silently watching their friends walk away. The two exchange a long look. Then both simultaneously sigh.
Sokka mutters, "Yeah. Because we always leave before we get into trouble."
Aira nods. "That's definitely something we're known for."
Sokka snorts. "Yeah, we're practically masters at avoiding danger.”
"Especially Aang."
Sokka laughs then the two reluctantly start following. When they reach Appa and Momo, Aang addresses their animal companions.
"You guys stay out of sight while we go to the festival."
Momo immediately launches himself into a nearby bush. The lemur completely disappears. Appa glances at the same bush. Then attempts to copy him. The massive sky bison lowers himself behind it. The bush successfully hides his face. And absolutely nothing else. His giant furry body remains completely visible.
Aira stares and points. "Appa."
The bison snorts.
"You're still visible."
Another snort.
But it must appease Aang. He turns dramatically. "Ready disguises."
Katara pulls up her hood. Sokka does the same. Aira adjusts her black cloak around her shoulders. Then she looks at Aang.
Aang grabs the collar of his bright orange robes and pulls them over his head. Barely. His arrows remain partially visible. His clothes are still bright orange. He somehow looks even more suspicious than before.
His friends all stare blankly as Aang smiles proudly.
"It's like you're a completely different person," Sokka deadpans.
Aang beams and begins walking toward the Fire Nation town, the others following behind closely.
Aira buries her face in her hands. "We're definitely getting captured again, aren't we?" And with a final sigh, Aira follows the others toward the Fire Nation town. And toward what is almost certainly going to become another disaster.
=============================
The sun is just beginning to set as they make it to the town.
Red lanterns sway gently overhead, strung between buildings like glowing beads. Long strands of crimson lights crisscross the streets, bathing everything in warm shades of orange and gold. The deeper the group ventures into town, the louder the celebration becomes. Drums pound in a steady rhythm that seems to vibrate through the ground beneath their feet.
Fireworks burst overhead, scattering brilliant streaks of red, gold, and white across the darkening sky. The explosions briefly illuminate the rooftops before fading into trails of sparkling smoke.
The streets are crowded with people dressed in shades of crimson and maroon. Vendors shout over one another. Children dart through the crowd waving sparklers and laughing. Families gather around food stalls. Musicians perform in the corners of busy intersections.
Aira studies everything carefully. At first, she searches for danger. For soldiers. For uniforms. For signs that someone has noticed Aang. But as the minutes pass, her attention drifts elsewhere. The people around her don't seem dangerous at all. An elderly woman helps her husband adjust his robe. A father carries a sleepy child on his shoulders. Two little girls chase each other through the crowd while their mother struggles to keep up.
They look...
Normal.
The realization unsettles her. Growing up, she'd been taught that the Fire Nation was the enemy. The soldiers she'd encountered certainly supported that belief—men who hunted, imprisoned, and killed without hesitation. Yet these people weren't soldiers. They were just people. Laughing. Eating. Celebrating. Living their lives. Aira glances at a young boy trying—and failing—to light a sparkler while his older sister giggles at him.
Maybe that's what makes war so awful, she thinks. Not that monsters fight monsters. That ordinary people do.
The thought lingers in her mind until Katara suddenly stops walking. Aira nearly bumps into her. Ahead lies the center of the festival. And everyone is wearing masks. Dozens of them. Some resemble dragons. Others depict spirits. Some are painted with elaborate flames while others have bright colors, exaggerated smiles, or fierce expressions.
Needless to say, four teenagers in cloaks stand out immediately.
"I think we need some new disguises," Katara trails off.
"Where are we gonna get masks like that?" Sokka asks.
As if the universe has perfect comedic timing—
"GET YOUR GENUINE FIRE FESTIVAL MASKS HERE!"
The four teens immediately turn. A nearby vendor waves dozens of masks from a wooden cart.
Aang grins. "Well that was easy."
A few moments later they're all standing around comparing their purchases.
Katara chooses a delicate mask with red soft blush marks on the cheeks. Aira picks a simple white mask decorated with three red circles—one on the forehead and one beneath each eye. Aang selects a red mask with an exaggerated frown. Sokka chooses a bright blue mask sporting an enormous grin.
Katara stares at Sokka. Aira stares at Aang. The two girls slowly exchange a look. Then, without saying a word, they simultaneously grab the boys' masks and switch them.
Katara nods toward Aang's new smiling mask. "Much better."
Aira points toward Sokka's grumpy mask. "There. Now they actually match your personalities."
Sokka scoffs, somewhat offended. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Aira says, "I've never seen someone look so annoyed while standing in front of fireworks."
"Because I'm hungry."
"You've been hungry since I met you."
As they continue through the festival, Aang suddenly points ahead. "Hey, there's some food."
"Finally!" Sokka exclaims. He practically teleports toward the nearest food vendor.
Aira immediately follows. Partly because she's hungry. Mostly because if she doesn't keep an eye on Sokka, he'll probably buy the entire stand.
"What do you have?" Sokka asks eagerly.
The vendor proudly presents several small paper pouches. "Flaming Fire Flakes. Best in town."
Sokka immediately buys one. Aira buys one too. The pouch contains crispy roasted flakes coated in bright red spices. Thin curls of steam rise from the snack, carrying a rich smoky aroma. Her stomach growls instantly.
Aira takes a cautious bite. Crunch. Her eyes widen. They're actually really good. Warm. Savory. Smoky. Spicy enough to make her tongue tingle without overwhelming the flavor. A pleasant heat spreads through her chest.
"Mmm."
Sokka apparently skips the cautious part. He dumps an entire handful into his mouth. For approximately two seconds, he looks happy. Then his face turns bright red.
"OW! HOT! HOT! HOT!" He waves his hands frantically while attempting to fan his tongue.
Katara folds her arms. "Flaming Fire Flakes," she says slowly. "Hot."
While Sokka rubs the remaining flakes from his tongue in an attempt to get some relief, Aira casually reaches over and takes the pouch from his hand. He doesn't notice. Too busy suffering. She takes another bite. Very good.
By the time Sokka finally recovers enough to look down, his pouch is gone. His eyes narrow. "Aira."
She immediately looks away. "Yes?"
"Why do you have my fire flakes?"
"They were abandoned."
"They were in my hand!"
"You seemed overwhelmed."
"Aira!"
Katara bursts out laughing. Aang grins beneath his mask. And despite himself, Sokka smiles and shakes his head.
A group of kids runs past them, gaining Aang’s attention.
“Hey, what’s that?”
They all walk up to a small seated crowd watching a puppet show. The small puppet is a man with a brown chin beard, bushy brown eyebrows, and fancy red robes decorated with gold details. A golden crown shaped like flames sits atop his head.
“Don’t worry, loyal citizens,” the puppet proclaims dramatically. “No one can surprise the Fire Lord!”
Aira tilts her head.
Is that what the Fire Lord actually looks like?
She’s never really thought much about the man beyond the destruction he leaves behind. Whenever she imagined him, she pictured something less human—a monster made of smoke and fire, with glowing eyes and sharpened teeth. Instead, the puppet just looks like... a man.
The children around her suddenly gasp as an Earth Kingdom soldier puppet bursts onto the stage.
“Oh no!”
“Look out!”
The crowd collectively holds its breath. Then the Fire Lord puppet opens its mouth and unleashes a stream of fire. The Earth Kingdom soldier erupts into flames.
The children cheer. Aira doesn't. Her stomach twists. The bright orange flames instantly drag her mind back to the abbey. To Zuko's attack. To the moment she was lying on the ground with fire racing across her shoulder.
Her fingers unconsciously brush against the edge of the bandages hidden beneath her clothes. The wound throbs. Not badly. Just enough. She remembers the smell of burning fabric. The sharp burst of pain. The panic. The helplessness. Aira swallows hard and forces her hand away from her shoulder.
Beside her, Sokka notices. His eyes flick briefly toward her.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.
She nods immediately. "Yeah."
It's not very convincing. Sokka studies her for a second longer before letting it go. The crowd erupts into applause as the Earth Kingdom puppet collapses into a pile of ashes. The children laugh and cheer.
Aira feels another pit form in her stomach. The four teens quietly drift away from the puppet show. Nobody seems particularly eager to stay.
Eventually they come across an even larger crowd gathered around a massive wooden stage. A man dressed in elegant white and red robes stands in the center. Unlike everyone else, he wears no mask. Flames swirl around him in perfect circles. He tosses them through the air as if they're weightless. One becomes two. Two becomes four. And so on. The crowd applauds as the fire dances around him.
Aira feels herself tense. The heat reaches her even from this distance. Instinctively, she takes half a step backward. Her burn aches again. Not enough to stop her. Just enough to remind her.
The performer launches a flame high into the air before catching it again with a graceful spin. The audience cheers. Aang, meanwhile, looks completely captivated. His eyes are practically glowing.
"Whoa..."
Without thinking, he starts pushing through the crowd.
"Aang!" Katara whispers.
But he's already moving. The closer he gets to the stage, the wider his smile becomes. They all finally reach the front of the crowd as the performer sweeps his arms outward, dissipating the flames.
Aang gasps, his eyes practically sparkling behind his mask.
"I gotta learn that trick!"
The performer faces the crowd. “For my next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience.”
Aang eagerly volunteers. “Ooh, ooh! Me! Me!” he yells as he jumps up and down.
Aira shakes her head and sighs. Here we go.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Sokka whispers, holding Aang to keep him from bouncing more.
“It’s better if we don’t attract any attention to ourselves,” Katara says.
“How about you little lady?” the performer asks as he stares directly at Katara.
Aira’s eyes widen under the mask. This is the complete opposite of not attracting attention to themselves.
Katara tries to deny the performer, but he persists, asking the crowd to give her some encouragement. The crowd cheers as the performer pulls Katara onto the stage.
“This is called Taming the Dragon,” he announces dramatically. He pulls out a chair and sets it center stage before gently guiding Katara to sit on the stage. “You will be my captured princess,” he says as he ties a red ribbon around her arms and torso to resemble her being tied up.
Flames burst from his fingertips. The crowd cheers. A long stream of fire spirals through the air. The flame twists and bends into the shape of a dragon. A surprisingly convincing dragon.
The fiery creature circles around Katara. Its body coils around the stage. The crowd watches in awe. Aang watches with fascination. Sokka watches with suspicion. Aira watches with increasing discomfort. The heat grows stronger every time the dragon passes. Each burst of flame makes her shoulder ache.
“Don’t worry young maiden, I will tame this fiery beast!” the performer yells.
The performer continues dancing around the stage. The dragon circles Katara again. This time a little too close. Katara visibly flinches. Aira straightens. The performer keeps smiling. The dragon dives lower. Lower. Lower. Something about this suddenly feels less like a performance and more like a guy showing off. Aira doesn't like it. Neither does Aang.
The performer suddenly stumbles dramatically. "Oh no!"
The crowd gasps.
"The dragon has escaped my control!"
Aira immediately narrows her eyes. That's definitely part of the act.
The dragon rears back. Then lunges directly at Katara. Katara gasps. Aira tenses. And before anyone else can react—Aang launches himself onto the stage.
"Aang, don't—"
A powerful gust of air erupts from his hands. The dragon instantly scatters into harmless sparks. Confetti flies everywhere. The performer's hair flies backward. And Aang's mask sails right off his face.
Silence.
Aang freezes. "...Oops."
The crowd erupts in boos. Aang dances goofily while Sokka and Aira work on freeing Katara from her binds.
“Hey! That kid’s the Avatar!” a man in the crowd yells.
For half a second, the entire festival freezes. Then chaos erupts. Aira's stomach drops as Fire Nation soldiers immediately begin shoving through the crowd toward the stage. Their armor glints beneath the lantern light as they level spears at the group.
"There they are!" one of them shouts. "Don't let them escape!"
The crowd erupts into frightened screams. People scatter in every direction. Aang's goofy grin vanishes instantly.
"I think it's time to go," Sokka says.
"Definitely time to go," Aira agrees.
"Follow me!"
The voice comes from somewhere behind them. A man dressed in a dark cloak peeks around the corner of a nearby building.
"I can get you out of here!"
Normally, following a mysterious stranger would be a terrible idea. Unfortunately, being arrested by Fire Nation soldiers sounds worse.
The four teens leap from the stage and sprint after the stranger. Aira nearly collides with a food cart as she follows the others through the crowded streets. People shout in surprise as they push through the festival. Lanterns sway overhead. Drums continue beating somewhere behind them. Fireworks explode in the sky. The celebration has suddenly become a nightmare.
"Over there!" a soldier yells.
Aira risks a glance behind her. Bad idea. At least a dozen soldiers are charging after them. More are pouring into the streets from side alleys.
Her pulse spikes. "They're gaining on us!"
"Keep moving!" Sokka shouts.
The stranger darts down a narrow alley. The group follows. Aira's shoes pound against the stone road. Her shoulder burns with every step. Each swing of her arms sends a sharp ache through her upper back. She grits her teeth and pushes forward. Not now. She can hurt later.
The stranger suddenly skids to a stop. Three soldiers block the alley ahead. Spears ready.
"Well..." the man says.
The soldiers begin advancing.
"Not this way."
The cloaked man calmly pulls a small object from his robes. Before anyone can ask what he's doing, he throws it.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion erupts. Smoke fills the alley. The soldiers are knocked backward with startled cries. Aira jumps.
"Okay," she says breathlessly. "That's actually pretty useful."
The stranger smirks. "This way."
The group turns and sprints in the opposite direction. The streets blur together. Left. Right. Through another crowd. Around a market stand. The sounds of pursuit never disappear. Heavy boots. Shouted orders. Clanking armor. Every time she thinks they've gained distance, she hears the soldiers again.
"We're not losing them!" Katara shouts.
"No kidding!" Sokka replies.
The stranger suddenly points ahead. "Down there!"
The group races toward another alley. Aira rounds the corner—and stops. Dead end. A solid brick wall blocks their path. Silence falls over the group. For one horrible moment nobody moves.
Then the sound returns. Footsteps. Lots of them. Approaching fast. Aira turns. The entrance to the alley is filling with soldiers. Spears. Armor. Firebenders. An entire wall of enemies. Her heart slams against her ribs.
We're trapped.
Aang reaches for his glider. Sokka grabs his club. Katara shifts into a waterbending stance despite only having a small pouch of water. Aira steps beside them. Her injured shoulder throbs. She ignores it. If they're fighting, she's fighting too.
Then a familiar roar echoes overhead. Everyone looks up. A massive shadow sweeps across the moonlight. Appa.
"There he is!" Aang cheers.
Appa dives toward the alley. The soldiers barely have time to react. With a furious roar, Appa slams into the ground. Appa swings his enormous tail. A powerful gust of air erupts down the alley. Soldiers go flying. Helmets spin through the air. Spears clatter against stone. The remaining soldiers retreat immediately.
"That's our cue!" Sokka says.
The group scrambles onto Appa's saddle. Aira practically throws herself onto the sky bison's back. She doesn't care if it isn't graceful. She's alive. That's enough. The stranger climbs aboard as well.
"Yip yip!" Aang shouts.
Appa launches skyward. Below them, more soldiers pour into the streets. A few point towards the sky. Others begin shouting orders. But they're too late. The group is already climbing above the rooftops. The town rapidly shrinks beneath them.
The stranger glances over the edge of the saddle and pulls another explosive from his cloak. Before anyone can respond, he tosses it downward. The explosive arcs through the air and disappears into a stack of crates. A second later—
BOOM!
A shower of fireworks erupts into the sky. The explosions illuminate the entire town. Gasps and cheers rise from below. The soldiers completely lose sight of Appa amidst the dazzling display.
Aang grins. "Nice touch."
For the first time since the chase began, Aira allows herself to breathe.
Then Sokka narrows his eyes at the stranger. "You seem to know a lot about explosives."
The man's smile falters slightly. "I'm familiar." He reaches up and removes his mask. Shaggy brown hair falls around his face. His eyes glow amber in the fading light.
Aira immediately stiffens. Fire Nation. Instinctively, she shifts closer to Sokka. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Except Katara. Who definitely notices. And definitely looks amused.
"You're a Fire Nation soldier," Sokka says.
"I was," the man replies. His expression softens. "My name is Chey."
Aira doesn't say anything. But her hand unconsciously drifts toward the bandages covering her burn. Just in case.
Chey notices. “Don’t worry,” Chey says. “I’m not going to hurt you. I deserted the Fire Nation military. I no longer associate myself with the Fire Nation.”
The forest grows quiet except for the steady beating of Appa's tail against the air. Aira remains tense. She studies Chey carefully. The shape of his jaw. The way he carries himself. Everything about him reminds her of the soldiers she's spent years avoiding. Years running from.
The former soldier looks out across the darkening forest below them. "When I was younger, I believed everything they taught us. That the Fire Nation was bringing prosperity to the world. That we were helping people." His expression darkens. "Then I saw what the war actually looked like."
No one interrupts.
"I watched villages burn. I watched innocent people suffer because commanders wanted promotions." Chey's voice becomes softer. "And eventually I realized that the nation I served only cared about spreading fear and violence.”
Aira wants to believe him. Part of her does. But another part remembers burned skin. Constant fear. Her parents. It's difficult to separate a nation from the pain it's caused.
Aang's expression softens. "So you just walked away?"
"I ran." Chey chuckles humorlessly. "Deserting wasn't exactly encouraged."
========================
Eventually, Appa lands in a small clearing deep within the forest. The massive sky bison lowers himself onto the grass with a tired groan while Momo immediately darts off to investigate nearby trees.
Night has fully settled over the world. The canopy overhead allows only scattered moonlight to reach the forest floor. Crickets chirp from somewhere in the darkness, and the distant rush of a river can barely be heard beyond the trees.
Aang quickly gets a campfire going. Soon, the five travelers are gathered around the flames. The fire crackles softly. Orange light dances across everyone's faces. For a while, nobody says much. The excitement from escaping the festival has finally worn off, leaving behind exhaustion.
Sokka pokes at the fire with a stick. Katara unwraps some food supplies. Aira carefully adjusts her sitting position so her injured shoulder doesn't brush against anything. Across the fire, Chey silently stares into the flames.
“So Chey,” Aang starts, “are you all by yourself out here?”
"Actually, I serve a man." Chey smiles slightly. "More than a man, really." His eyes gleam with admiration. "He’s a myth, but he's real. A living legend. Jeong Jeong the Deserter." Chey says the name like he's introducing royalty.
"He was a Fire Nation General." He pauses. "Or maybe an admiral." Another pause. He scratches the back of his head.
"He was very highly ranked, we get it," Sokka says.
"Oh yeah. Way up there." Chey raises his hand far above his head. The former soldier's expression becomes more serious. "But he couldn't take the madness anymore."
The amusement fades. The crackling fire fills the silence. Chey's eyes lower toward the flames.
"He was the first person to ever leave the army and live… I’m the second but you don’t get to be a legend for that. It’s okay though."
Aira studies him carefully. The idea still feels strange. Fire Nation soldiers leaving the army. Choosing not to fight. It goes against everything she grew up believing. Yet here sits Chey. A living contradiction.
“Jeong Jeong is a firebending genius,” Chey continues. “Some say he’s mad. But he’s not. He’s enlightened.”
Aang sits up straighter. His excitement is impossible to miss now. "You mean there's a firebender out there who’s not with the Fire Lord?" He grins impossibly wide and jumps to his feet. “We’ve gotta go see him! He can train me!”
Aira can't help smiling at the sight. For a brief moment, she understands exactly how he feels. She remembers meeting Aang for the first time—meeting another airbender. The last airbender. How impossible that had seemed. How hopeful. And that’s what Aang must be feeling. Hope. He has no firebending teacher. No guidance. No one willing to help him learn the final element he needs to master. But now that may change.
"We're not going looking for some crazy firebender," Sokka says.
"He isn't crazy," Chey argues. The two stand simultaneously. Chey points at Aang. “Jeong Jeong is a genius. And he’s the perfect person to train the Avatar.”
Aang nods enthusiastically. "Exactly!"
"That's why I followed you into the festival."
Aira blinks. Wait. She straightens. Followed us? Aira's stomach drops. She replays the entire day. The marketplace. The puppet show. The food stands. The crowds. The stage. She hadn't noticed him once. Not once.
That's concerning.
Maybe she isn't as observant as she thought. Maybe she deserved a different Water Tribe mark–the Mark of Completely Missing Things Happening Behind Her.
"Thanks for the help," Sokka says while crossing his arms defiantly. "But we're leaving for the North Pole tomorrow morning."
The conversation threatens to end there. Until Aang speaks again. His voice is quieter this time. More vulnerable.
"Sokka..."
Everyone looks at him. The grin is gone. For a moment he looks every bit like a twelve-year-old boy carrying the weight of the world. Aang stares into the fire.
"This could be my only chance to meet a firebending master who would actually be willing to teach me.”
Nobody argues. Because it's true. The Avatar must master all four elements. And time is running out.
Katara sighs. "It couldn't hurt to at least talk to him."
Sokka throws both hands into the air. "That's exactly what you said about the festival! Why does nobody ever listen to me?"
Aira winces. Honestly? He has a point. The festival had gone terribly. But still… She finds herself looking at Aang. At the hope in his eyes. At how desperately he wants this. And she remembers when Aang agreed to teach her airbending. How much those lessons mean to her. How lost she'd feel without them.
"I think they're right."
Everyone turns toward her.
"Sokka," Aira says carefully, "Aang doesn't have anyone else. He needs a firebending teacher." She glances toward Aang. "And if this Jeong Jeong really is willing to teach him..." She shrugs. "It might be his only chance."
Aang smiles at her. A grateful smile. But Sokka looks unconvinced. Before he can respond—
A sharp spear suddenly appears inches from his face. Everyone freezes. The forest goes silent. Several figures emerge from the darkness. Then several more. Then even more.
Aira's stomach drops. Men step from behind trees. From bushes. From the shadows. Every single one carries a weapon. In seconds, the campfire is completely surrounded. Katara rises immediately, water pouch in hand. Aang slides into an airbending stance. Aira stands beside him. Her pulse races.
One of the men steps forward. His scarred face is illuminated by the firelight.
"Don't move."
The spear remains pointed directly at Sokka. The man narrows his eyes.
"Follow us."
The group exchanges nervous looks. Aira's fingers twitch. Trying to calculate how many opponents there are. Too many. Definitely too many. Then the man glares at Chey.
"Jeong Jeong told you not to look for the Avatar."
Sokka blinks. Then looks between them. Then back again.
"...Hold on." He points. "You know these guys?"
"Oh yeah!" Chey says cheerfully.
Aira stares. How is he so relaxed?
Chey points toward the spear-wielding man. "Lin Ye is an old buddy! Right Lin Ye?” he says with a smile.
The man closes his eyes as if regretting his life choices.
"Shut up. Keep moving."
Eventually, the trees begin to thin, and the dense forest opens up around them. The sound of rushing water grows steadily louder with every step until it drowns out the chirping insects and rustling leaves. Soon, the river comes into view, moonlight shimmering across its surface. Nestled along the riverbank sits a small metal structure, its dark silhouette reflecting faintly in the water.
Lin Ye stops walking and gestures sharply toward the building.
"Go on," he tells Chey. "He sees you only."
"Oh, that's okay," Chey says with a nervous laugh. "We can catch up later."
Aang immediately perks up.
"Is that where Jeong Jeong is?" he asks eagerly. "I need to talk to him right away."
Before anyone can stop him, he starts marching toward the structure. Lin Ye steps directly into his path.
"No. You wait here."
His voice leaves absolutely no room for argument. Then he gives Chey a firm shove between the shoulders.
"Go. Now."
Chey stumbles forward. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine," he says over his shoulder. Then, as he walks away, they hear him muttering under his breath. "He's a great man. A great man. Definitely a great man." The way he keeps repeating it sounds less like confidence and more like someone trying desperately to convince himself.
Aira exchanges a glance with Sokka.
"That doesn't make me feel better about this guy," Sokka mutters.
After Chey disappears into Jeong Jeong's quarters, Lin Ye escorts the four teens to a smaller structure nearby. Inside, a modest fire crackles in a stone pit. Blankets and bedrolls are scattered around the room, and after the chaos of the festival, the place feels surprisingly peaceful. Katara immediately settles beside the fire. Sokka drops onto the ground with a groan. Aira quietly sits down between the two siblings.
Meanwhile, Aang is incapable of sitting still. He paces. Then he bounces on his heels. Then he sits down. Then he stands back up. Then he paces again. Aira's eyes follow him back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally she pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Aang."
"Hm?"
"You've walked past me seventeen times."
"I have?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
He continues pacing. Aira stares.
"Aang."
"Yeah?"
"You gotta relax. You're giving me a headache."
"Sorry."
Aang finally drops down beside her. For approximately three seconds. Then his knee starts bouncing.
"I'm just so excited!" he blurts. "What if he agrees to teach me? What if he shows me real firebending forms? What if—"
"What if you sit still for five seconds?" Aira suggests.
Aang laughs sheepishly. Aira smiles despite herself and nudges his shoulder.
"I know you're excited, buddy. But Chey will come get you when he's done."
"I know."
"It's been a long day so try to relax."
Aang sighs dramatically. "Okay." He immediately begins drawing circles in the dirt with his finger.
Aira raises an eyebrow. "This is your version of relaxing?"
"Maybe."
After watching him fidget for another minute, an idea comes to her.
"Do you wanna play Water, Earth, Fire, Air?"
Aang's entire face lights up.
"Do I?!"
He scoots around the fire and plops down directly across from her. The excitement is so immediate that Katara starts giggling. Sokka leans forward with interest.
Aang holds out his fist. Aira mirrors him. The two begin rhythmically pumping their fists.
"Water."
"Earth."
"Fire."
"Air."
On the final word, they reveal their choices.
Aira extends her fingers, wiggling them dramatically. "Fire."
Aang presents a closed fist. "Earth."
His eyes widen. Then he shoots both arms into the air.
"I give up!" Aira throws her hands in the air. “What, can Avatars read minds or something?"
"Nope." He points proudly at himself. "But we are masters of all four elements."
"That's not how this game works."
"It is when you're winning."
Sokka laughs, clearly entertained by Aira's growing frustration.
Aira narrows her eyes at him. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You think you can beat him."
"I didn't say that."
"But you laughed."
"I did not laugh."
"You absolutely laughed."
"That was a dignified chuckle."
Katara snorts. "A dignified chuckle?" she repeats.
Sokka points at her. "Exactly. Thank you."
"I was making fun of you."
Aira crosses her arms. "So you're admitting you're too scared to challenge him?"
"Scared?" Sokka places a hand on his chest as if personally offended. "Please. I'm a warrior."
"A warrior who's making a lot of excuses."
"I'm not making excuses."
"Then prove it."
Katara leans forward with a grin. "Yeah, Sokka. Defend your honor."
"My honor doesn't need defending."
"Sounds like something someone says when they're about to lose."
Sokka squints at Aira. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"I'll tell you what." Aira reaches into her cloak and pulls out the pouch of remaining fire flakes. The roasted flakes rustle as she shakes it lightly. "If you beat him, you can have the rest of these."
Sokka's eyes immediately lock onto the pouch. "You're on."
Before anyone can say another word, Sokka scoots across the floor and drops down opposite Aang.
"Move over."
Aira sighs dramatically and slides aside. The room falls strangely silent. Katara leans forward. Aira clutches the pouch. Aang grins.
Across from him, Sokka cracks his knuckles. Then the two boys raise their fists.
Sokka leaps to his feet. Katara groans. Aira stares in complete disbelief.
"No."
Sokka extends a hand. "My flakes."
"No."
"You promised."
"It was clearly a flawed agreement."
"You promised."
"Aang?" Aira asks desperately.
Aang nods. "You promised."
Aira immediately glares at him. "Why must you be so moral all the time?"
"Avatar duties."
With the deepest sigh she can manage, she hands over the pouch. Sokka accepts it like a victorious war hero receiving a medal. A few moments later, he's happily munching away.
Katara watches him. "I thought you hated those."
"I don't hate them."
"You were screaming in pain and wiping them from your tongue."
"The spice surprised me. But they’re actually quite enjoyable."
Aira watches him eat with growing jealousy. Those were her fire flakes. Well… Technically they belonged to Sokka until she swiped them from his hands. But still. That isn't the point.
Sokka notices her staring. He hesitates. Looks at the pouch. Looks at her. Then reluctantly holds it out.
Aira smiles at him. She immediately reaches in and grabs a small handful.
"Not so much!" Sokka yelps.
Aira freezes. The entire room goes silent. Katara slowly raises an eyebrow. Aang blinks.
“What?” Sokka says defensively. “I’m hungry…” he trails off as he eats more.
“You’re always hungry!” his three friends all say in unison.
Suddenly, the flap of the hut opens. Chey steps inside. One look at his face tells everyone how the conversation went. His shoulders sag. His usual enthusiasm is gone completely.
Aang immediately sits up straighter. "What happened?" he asks. "Can I see Jeong Jeong now?"
Chey lowers himself onto a nearby crate and rests his elbows on his knees. "He won't see you."
The words seem to suck all the air out of the room.
Aang's smile falters. "What?"
Chey shakes his head. "He's very angry that I brought you here. He wants you to leave immediately.”
"Finally," Sokka says, throwing his hands into the air. "Let’s hit the road.”
Katara shoots him a look. "Sokka."
"What? He said to leave. Let’s leave."
Aang barely seems to hear them. "Why won't he see me?"
The disappointment in his voice makes Aira's chest tighten.
Chey sighs. "He says you're not ready."
"Not ready?"
"He says you haven't mastered waterbending or earthbending yet. He could tell by the way you walked into camp."
Aira blinks. That was actually kind of impressive.
Aang presses his lips together. His disappointment lasts all of three seconds. Then determination takes over. "I'm going in anyway."
Before anyone can stop him, he marches out of the hut.
"Aang—" Katara starts.
Too late. The flap swings shut behind him. Silence settles over the room. Aira stares after him. She admires his determination. Really, she does. But she also hopes this legendary firebender doesn't throw him into the river.
"Maybe someone should go with him," she says, getting to her feet.
A hand gently catches her wrist. She looks down.
Sokka shakes his head. "Wait."
"But—"
"This is something Aang needs to do himself."
Aira hesitates. Part of her wants to follow anyway. Eventually she lets out a sigh and sits back down. "Fine."
She folds her legs and begins absentmindedly tracing circles in the dirt with her finger. One circle. Then another. Then a third.
"Now who's having trouble sitting still?" Katara asks with a grin.
Aira snorts. "Ha. Ha. Very funny."
Katara's grin widens. "I learned from the best."
Aira glances toward Sokka. "That explains why the joke wasn't very good."
"Hey!"
Several minutes crawl by. Then the hut flap bursts open. Aang practically bounces inside. His grin is so wide it looks painful.
"He said yes!"
Everyone looks up.
"He'll teach me!"
Katara immediately smiles. “That’s great Aang.”
Aang pumps both fists into the air. "I'm gonna learn firebending!"
Even Aira can't help smiling. "That's amazing, Aang."
Sokka groans dramatically. "Yeah. Fantastic."
Aira reaches over and very lightly smacks his arm. "Be supportive."
"Ow!" Sokka rubs his shoulder. "What was that for?"
"That was for being grumpy."
"That hurt."
Aira stares at him. "Sokka, I barely touched you."
"Easy for you to say. You weren't the one who got hit."
"I thought you were a big, strong warrior."
"I am."
"Then why are you whining?"
"Because," Sokka says with complete seriousness, "you're stronger than you look."
==========================
The following morning is peaceful. The camp is filled with sounds of chirping birds and running water from the stream. While Aang begins his firebending training, Sokka fishes from a large rock right next to camp, and next to him, Katara patches up Aira’s bandages again. She sighs as the ointment cools the healing burn.
“It’s looking better everyday,” Katara chirps.
“Does that mean I can start training again?” Aira asks hopefully.
Without looking at her, Sokka and Katara both speak in unison.
“No.”
“No.”
Aira groans and crosses her arms in a pout.
“Doesn’t Aang like you to meditate as part of your training?” Katara suggests. “You could always do that.” She finishes wrapping Aira’s bandages. “All done!”
“You’re right. Thank you, Katara,” Aira says.
She stays where she’s seated and moves into a lotus position before closing her eyes. Sokka continues to fish, and Katara uses this as a chance to practice her waterbending.
Nearby, Jeong Jeong begins Aang’s firebending training. Aang is standing on a flat rock sticking up from the surface of the riverbed.
“Widen your stance,” Jeong Jeong orders.
Aang stands with his knees hip width apart, slightly bent, and his hands pulled in at his sides.
“Wider!” Jeong Jeong instructs. “Bend your knees. Now, concentrate.”
“Wait, what do I do now?” Aang asks as Jeong Jeong starts to walk away.
“Silence,” Jeong Jeong says. “Talking is not concentrating. Look at your friends. Are they talking?” he asks, gesturing at Aira and Katara. Then he looks at Sokka. “Even that oaf knows to concentrate on what he’s doing!”
“Hey!” Sokka yells defensively.
Aira snickers, causing Sokka to send her a playful glare.
"Laugh all you want," he says.
"I will."
"At least I'm allowed to do things."
Aira freezes.
Sokka immediately realizes his mistake. "Uh..."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean..."
Aira flicks her wrist. A gust of wind shoots across the riverbank.
"Wait—"
Sokka barely has time to react before the blast catches him square in the chest. He pinwheels his arms wildly.
"Aira, don't you da—AAAAH!"
Splash.
Water erupts around him as he disappears beneath the river's surface. Katara bursts out laughing. Even Aang glances away from Jeong Jeong long enough to grin. A moment later, Sokka's head breaks the surface. He spits out a mouthful of water.
“Was that really necessary?" he deadpans.
"Absolutely," Aira replies.
Katara and Aira both giggle at him.
"Come on," Aira says, walking over to the riverbank. "I'll help you up."
She extends her hand. Sokka stares at it. Then a suspicious smile spreads across his face. Aira immediately regrets her decision.
"Sokka, don't—"
He grabs her wrist. "Too late."
With one sharp tug, he yanks her forward.
"SOKKA!"
Splash. Cold water engulfs her. She resurfaces a second later, sputtering and pushing wet hair out of her face.
Sokka is laughing so hard he's practically folding in half. "Worth it," he wheezes.
Katara's jaw drops. "Sokka!"
He immediately points at Aira. "She started it."
"I just changed her bandages!"
Aira wipes water from her eyes and laughs despite herself.
"Yeah," she admits. "I kinda deserved that one."
Aira starts wading towards the riverbank. “Sorry, Katara,” she says sheepishly. “But can you help me change my bandages again, please?” she pouts.
Katara sighs and joins Aira as they both walk back to their hut to get supplies, leaving Sokka in the water by himself.
=========================
After Katara changes Aira's bandages, the waterbender heads back toward the river to continue practicing. Aira remains in the hut to meditate. She settles into a lotus position and closes her eyes.
Inhale.
Exhale.
She focuses on the movement of air entering and leaving her lungs. The breeze drifting through the open doorway brushes against her face. For a while, it works. Her thoughts are quiet. The ache in her shoulder fades into the background. Everything feels still.
Then someone screams. Aira's eyes snap open. Another shout follows. Aira’s stomach immediately drops.
Fire Nation.
The thought hits her before anything else. She scrambles to her feet so quickly she nearly loses her balance. Her heart begins pounding. Without thinking, she sprints from the hut. Branches whip past her as she races toward the river. She hears another yell, this one louder than the last.
And when she finally breaks through the tree line— She freezes.
Sokka is pinning Aang to the ground. Katara is running away. Crying. The scene makes absolutely no sense. For a second Aira's brain refuses to process what she's seeing. Aang looks horrified. Sokka looks furious. Katara looks devastated.
"What happened?!" Aira yells.
Nobody answers. Sokka is too busy shouting. Aang is too stunned to speak. Katara keeps running. Aira doesn't hesitate. She immediately turns and chases after the crying girl.
"Katara!"
The waterbender doesn't stop.
“Katara!”
Finally, several moments later, Katara slows near the riverbank. She collapses onto her knees beside the water. Her shoulders shake. Aira's chest tightens. She approaches slowly. Carefully. The same way she'd approach a wounded animal.
"Katara?"
No response. Aira kneels beside her.
"Are you okay?"
Katara lets out a shaky breath. "No."
The single word nearly breaks apart as it leaves her mouth. Aira's eyes drift downward. Then she sees Katara's hands. And immediately wishes she hadn't. Burns cover both palms. Angry red skin stretches across her fingers. Several spots already look blistered.
Aira winces. Spirits. That looks painful.
"What happened?" she asks softly.
Katara wipes her eyes. "Aang."
Understanding immediately floods through Aira. The firebending lesson. Something went wrong. Very wrong.
Aira gently reaches toward Katara's wrists. "Let me see."
Katara reluctantly holds out her hands. The sight makes Aira's stomach twist. She knows exactly how burns feel. She remembers Zuko's fire. The searing pain. The lingering ache. The way even a shirt brushing against damaged skin could hurt. This looks even worse.
"Here." Aira points toward the river. "The water's cold."
Katara looks up.
"Put your hands in."
The younger girl nods. Slowly she lowers her hands beneath the surface.
Aira immediately stands. "I'll go get the ointment."
She turns—Then hears Katara gasp. Aira freezes.
"What?"
Katara doesn't answer. Aira spins around. And stops. The water surrounding Katara's hands is glowing. Soft blue light swirls through the river. The sight is almost beautiful. Neither girl moves. The glow grows brighter. Then slowly fades away. Katara carefully lifts her hands from the water. The burns are gone. Not reduced. Not improved. But gone.
Aira's jaw practically hits the ground. Katara looks equally shocked. The two girls stare at each other. Then at Katara's hands. Then back at each other. Neither has any explanation.
"You have healing abilities."
Both girls jump. Jeong Jeong stands behind them. His expression is unreadable. He slowly kneels beside the river.
"The great healers of the Water Tribes sometimes have this ability."
Aira looks at Katara with renewed amazement. "Katara, that's incredible."
“I’ve always wished I was blessed like you–free from this burning curse,” Jeong Jeong says mournfully.
“But you’re a great master,” Katara says. “You have powers I’ll never know.”
“Water brings healing and life. But fire brings only destruction and pain,” Jeong Jeong replies. “It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor’s edge between humanity and savagery… eventually we’re torn apart.”
Suddenly, several gusts of fire are shot in their direction. The three of them stand and look to see several river boats heading straight toward them.
“Go get your friends and flee!” Jeong Jeong yells, standing his ground to fight. “Do not come back here or you will all be destroyed. Hurry!”
The second Jeong Jeong orders them to run, Aira doesn't argue. The urgency in his voice tells her everything she needs to know. This isn't a battle they can win.
The two girls sprint through the forest. Roots and rocks blur beneath their feet. Branches scratch against Aira's sleeves. Her lungs burn. The sounds of explosions and shouting echo from behind them.
By the time they reach camp, Sokka is already on his feet.
"Katara! Are you okay?” he asks with concern.
"I'm okay." Katara grabs his arm. "We need to leave. Now."
"Where's Aang?" Aira asks.
Sokka points toward Jeong Jeong's quarters. Katara quickly makes her way towards Aang while Sokka and Aira pack all of their things onto Appa’s saddle. When Katara returns, Aang isn’t with her.
“Was Aang not there?” Aira asks.
“He was. He went to help Jeong Jeong,” Katara replies, pointing down the river.
Aira's eyes widened. Before anyone can stop her, Aira turns.
"Well then we have to help too."
She turns toward the river before she can think twice about it. But Sokka grabs her wrist.
“Aira.”
The firmness in his voice makes her stop. She looks down at his hand, then up at him.
“You can't,” he says.
“What?”
“You can't go out there.”
Aira stares at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You're still injured.”
“We're talking about Aang.”
“But your shoulder–”
“My shoulder is fine.” Aira lets out a frustrated laugh.
“No, it isn't.”
Katara glances between them, wisely deciding not to get involved.
Aira jerks her arm free. “Stop doing that.”
Sokka blinks. “Doing what?”
“Treating me like I'm made of glass.”
“Aira—”
“No!” she snaps.
The word echoes through the camp. For a moment nobody speaks. Aira's chest rises and falls rapidly. She isn't even sure why she's so angry. Maybe because she's tired of sitting on the sidelines. Maybe because everyone keeps deciding what she can and can't do. Or maybe because Aang is in danger and every second they're arguing feels like a waste.
She points toward the river. “Aang went out there alone. Jeong Jeong is fighting an entire fleet. We should be helping.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you stopping me?”
Sokka opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. His frustration is written all over his face. Finally he blurts—
“Because if you go out there, you could get hurt worse.” Sokka takes a breath. “And I can't live with that.”
The words hang in the air. His eyes widen. Katara's eyebrows shoot upward. Aira just stares. Sokka looks like he wants to physically grab the sentence and shove it back into his mouth.
“I mean—” He stops. His face turns bright red. “I just—”
Another failed attempt. Katara suddenly becomes very interested in a nearby tree. Aira feels her stomach do a strange little flip.
Sokka drags both hands down his face. “What I'm trying to say,” he mutters, “is that you've already been hurt once because of all this.” His voice softens. “And I don't want that happening again.”
The embarrassment is still there, but now there's something more honest beneath it. Something harder to joke away.
Aira looks at him for a long moment. Then she sighs. The fight drains out of her shoulders.
“Okay.”
Relief immediately washes across Sokka’s face. He gestures toward Appa.
“Come on. We're packed and ready. We need to find Aang and get out of here.”
Katara and Aira both nod. The three teens hurry toward Appa together. They fly toward Aang, finding him in the river in front of several river boats, now set ablaze.
“Aang, c’mon. Let’s go!” Sokka yells.
Aang rushes towards Appa and jumps on his head before grabbing the reins and sending them into the sky.
“Wait,” Aang starts, “where’s Jeong Jeong?”
“He disappeared," Sokka says, looking down at the camp. “They all did.”
The four teens peer down toward Jeong Jeong's camp as Appa climbs higher into the sky. The camp is completely deserted. Not a single person remains. Just an empty clearing swallowed by the forest.
The boy blinks. Aang looks down as though noticing the injury for the first time. A nasty burn stretches across his forearm, the edges still red and irritated.
Katara immediately scoots closer.
“Let me help.”
Aang obediently offers his arm. Katara draws water from a waterskin and guides it over the burn. The liquid wraps around his arm like a ribbon. Then it begins to glow. Soft blue light illuminates Katara's hands. Aira watches in fascination.
The glow almost reminds her of moonlight reflecting on water. As the water passes over the wound, the angry red skin fades away. Within seconds, the burn is gone. Aang turns his arm over. Then over again.
"Wow." He grins. "That's good water."
"When did you learn to do that?" Sokka asks.
Katara shrugs. A proud smile tugs at her lips. "I guess I always knew."
"Oh." Sokka nods thoughtfully. "Well thanks for all the first aid over the years."
Aira immediately recognizes the tone. Sokka is about to be annoying.
"Like when I fell into that greaseberry bramble. Or when I got two fishhooks stuck in my thumb."
Aira blinks. "Two?"
Aang looks equally confused. "How do you get two fishhooks stuck in your thumb?"
Katara points at her brother. "He tried to remove the first fishhook with another fishhook."
Aira stares. Aang stares. Sokka shrugs.
"It made sense at the time."
"It absolutely did not," Katara says.
Aira snorts. Aang starts laughing. Then Aang's smile fades slightly. His eyes drift toward Aira.
"Katara?"
"Yeah?"
"If you can heal wounds now..." He glances at Aira's shoulder. "...can you heal the rest of Aira’s burn?"
The laughter immediately fades. Aira unconsciously reaches toward her shoulder. Even now, days later, the skin still aches.
Katara brightens. "I can try." She looks toward Aira. "Aira?"
Aira immediately nods. "Please."
The airbender carefully turns around. Katara gathers another ribbon of water. The cool liquid settles against Aira's shoulder. Instant relief floods through her. Aira's eyes close. She hadn't realized how much the burn still hurt until that pain finally begins to disappear.
The water glows. Soft. Gentle. The sensation spreads across her shoulder blade and upper back. Like sunlight after a cold morning. Like sinking into a hot spring. Like finally exhaling after holding a breath.
Aira's shoulders slowly relax. The constant ache fades then disappears entirely. Her eyes open. For the first time since Zuko's attack, nothing hurts. Nothing. Aira experimentally rolls her shoulder. Then again. No pain. No stiffness. No burning. Her face immediately lights up.
"Katara!" She twists around excitedly. "It doesn't hurt anymore!"
Katara beams. "It worked."
Aira rotates her arm several more times just because she can. The freedom feels incredible. Then a thought occurs to her. She reaches up and lightly touches the healed skin.
"Wait." She tries craning her neck. "Does that mean there's no mark anymore?"
Katara's smile softens. She hesitates.
Aira immediately notices. "Oh."
Katara lowers her eyes. "I'm sorry. The wound is healed," she gently touches Aira's shoulder. "But burns that deep leave scars."
Aira reaches back again. Fingers brushing over slightly uneven skin. A reminder. A permanent one. For a moment, she's quiet. Then she shrugs.
“But still, thank you, Katara.” Aira smiles and wraps her arms around Katara in a quick hug.
Katara returns the hug immediately. "You're welcome."
Aira leans back. Besides, she thinks, a scar is a small price to pay for still being here. For still being with her friends. For still moving forward.
"I have a feeling this healing thing is going to come in handy."
Katara laughs. "Hopefully not."
The four friends settle into a comfortable silence. Appa glides steadily northward. The sky slowly shifts toward evening. Clouds drift beneath them. The world feels peaceful again.
Aira finds herself glancing sideways. Toward Sokka. He doesn't notice. He's too busy arguing with Momo over the last few fire flakes. A small smile tugs at her lips. Then she remembers what he said earlier about her getting hurt.
"I can't live with that."
She feels heat radiating up her neck, and this time, it’s not from a burn.
bandillow au ideas pt 4: someone finally confronts one of them about how sort of unhealthy they are
in s6, when tara finally leaves willow, she pulls buffy aside. she knows it was all of them who ripped her out of heaven, but it's willow who keeps using magic to try and fix them at this point. willow and xander, really. and she can't understand why buffy doesn't seem to be taking it as seriously as tara knows it is.
they don't mean to hurt anyone by it, buffy says, flat and dead, like she's reciting a line she's had memorized for a long, long time. they're just trying to help.
but they're not helping anyone, tara retorts. they're only trying to make it easier for themselves. willow, she— she tried to wipe our memories. what makes us, us. she was going to— to violate us. what if you'd really forgotten heaven?
buffy twitches, her eyes flashing in a mix of fury and pain. it's the most emotion tara thinks she's seen on buffy all night after the spell had broken. but then she settles down the very next moment, and tara feels so, unimaginably sad watching her.
maybe that wouldn't have been so bad, buffy murmurs. tara blinks. for the entire time buffy's been... back, she's been nothing less than what tara could almost call possessive of the memory. protective. she clings to her time in heaven, and doesn't let anyone close. they hadn't even known she lied about being in hell until very recently.
tara knows that's not what's actually going on. buffy was just trying to make them feel better about the awful, awful thing they'd done, like they deserved to be mollified. she was trying to please willow and xander, as she always seems to do.
you can't mean that, tara says. you— you really want to forget? you'd let willow do that to you?
no, buffy amends quickly. I don't. and I wouldn't. I just... then she sighs, more than world weary. aching for a dimension she can't reach anymore.
tara speaks before buffy can continue. leaving the summers'-house-turned-scooby-group-home, leaving willow, she can't stop wondering. a question she needs to ask. because, and though she thinks she very much gets it, buffy has been around them so much longer. she's heard stories of the sort of stuff that'd happened when she was just getting to know them. she knows how long this has been building up, but buffy's been there to witness it firsthand. so...
why do you let them get away with these kind of things?
buffy scrunches her face, eyes squinted and brow furrowed. what? she asks. tara flushes.
w-well, she stammers, it's just... even earlier, you didn't really... I mean, it's good you talked to willow about her magic, but...
but what? buffy echoes sharply. she sounds like every girl who ever bullied tara. it feels like a costume she's putting on before tara's very eyes.
tara ducks her head all the same. th-there's just no real consequences. for their a-actions. y-y—you—
you're saying I should, what, punish them? I'm their friend. friends don't punish each other, buffy explains, like tara's slow. tara ignores the condescension. rethinks her words. she's clearly hit a raw nerve she didn't realize was there.
what I'm s-saying is that you shouldn't have to— to put up with it. you could—
leave? buffy says. she shakes her head. no.
tara looks back at her, the sudden lack of passion in her voice catching her attention. buffy's body has sagged, eyes half-closed, her dull greens hidden in a shadow that feels wholly unrelated to anything physical. whatever fire that had been burning before has been firmly extinguished, and tara knows she's losing her for good.
still, she has to try.
tara makes sure her tone is soft. well... why not?
which is a bit of a silly question, since she already knows the answer: because buffy loves them, and they love her. it's why she gave willow so many chances, too. but tara's leaving. she knows the situation is bad, and she's getting out, because that's what she knows she has to do to keep herself still her. why doesn't buffy seem to see that, when tara knows she wouldn't let anybody else get away with doing something bad this many times?
because they don't. buffy swallows, hard, eyes cast down to her feet. leave. so many have, but they don't. even when I... mess up. or... god, I've messed up so many times. and they've never abandoned me. they won't.
have you considered, that maybe that's not such a good thing? tara asks gently. she bites the inside of her cheek when buffy's melancholy mood turns visibly incredulous.
what? buffy demands, head snapping back up to stare at her. how— how could you say that—?
I'm n-not saying they should've left you! tara reassures with panicked hands. her words clearly came out wrong. she knows buffy's got some sort of trauma for sure, even if no one likes to talk about it, but she doesn't think the way they go about things is for the best, either. I'm just— sometimes people need s-space, buffy. how long have you three been in each other's bubbles? m-maybe you just need to learn how to... stand on your own. see who you are without them. see if— if maybe their friendship is worth the cost of having to be on the end of w-what they do. to you. to everyone.
there's a long pause after tara's words.
stand on my own, buffy repeats, like it's the only thing she heard tara say. she huffs, too angry to be a laugh. I think giles said that to me before, too, when I was younger. in fact, I think, she begins, a hint of something dangerous curling at the edges of her words, that willow and xander are the only ones who haven't.
tara frowns at the tone, and buffy immediately makes herself smaller, less threatening. it irks tara to realize she's seen buffy do this before, mostly around willow or xander. riley, a lot, when he was still around. and she's heard about angel. but not typically around anybody else. it reminds her of herself, and then she's just sad again. she doesn't want to be someone buffy has to mold herself around. she doesn't think buffy should be molding herself for anybody.
sorry, buffy says. tara frowns harder. buffy continues. you don't get it, though. or maybe you do. I don't know. we... you were really nice to me, tara. you are. but willow is... she smiles. it's not the least bit convincing, and tara doesn't think buffy's trying to make it be. she gets me in the divorce, see? I'm hers— her best friend. and she and xander are my number ones after dawn. they've always had my back, even after— after everything. I'm not leaving either of them when I know they won't, either. ever.
buffy fidgets, looking for all the world like she'd rather be anywhere else than having this conversation. and then she suddenly jerks forward, putting one stiff step in front of the other, barely giving time to tell tara she'll see her later before she's disappeared. tara distantly wonders if she'll actually be seeing buffy again after tonight.
buffy is in love with her girlfriend— ex-girlfriend. buffy is in love with her two best friends. buffy has clearly been in love with them for... a while, now. based on the way she acts, tara assumes not even buffy would know the answer to that question. if she even realizes it at all. and buffy is not known for acting rationally while in love.
tara thinks she's made the right call to get out, after all.
