#fraith

[crysteelheart]

Deliver to: Librarian Salessha Ri Capiir, Twenty-Fifth Eastern Seaside, Ivory Room.

From: Fraithe ven Tomas, in-stacks 3rd Gearsward

Discovered lost patron in Rites of Flame and Shadow. Approximately 6’, misty luminescent, vaguely humanoid. Had been searching through the stone carvings, apparently for fighting blessings, and left such a mess of carvings piled around the fire that the walls were covered in unfinished rituals. Patron did not speak any tongue I know; conversed in undecipherable whooms and haawwwns at great length. Have directed them to 23rd Upper Outlook to Lib. Hragan, and contacted the Tomewardens for cleanup and monitoring.

Found wand you requested in 1st Gearsward, Wand Cabinet 12 Nightside Drawer 57. Had companion wand in Drawer 58; parchment instructions to avoid separating them for more than sixteen turns. Not sure what “turns” means in this context. Bringing both unless advised otherwise. Noise of grinding gears here is unbearable. One of the floor rotations appears stuck. Please advise which maintenance crew to send in.

Will keep you apprised of further progress.

—Fraithe

[grimanonrexwrites]

Underrated pairings/pairings for which I have seen little to no content for and believe that at some point I may try and rectify this

Ed Howzer-Black/Steven Toast

Sir Charles Fraith/Roy Silver

I just think they’re neat ok

[daltheznadofart]

Fraith brainrot I have

[the-light-of-truth-world]

[flints-silver]

faith x fred - aliens

[adamdalgliesh]

Agatha Raisin 2.01 | The Wizard of Evesham

[somethingclever666]

Me and my hot takes

[loveexpelrevolt]

Saved by the Boggle.

Agatha Raisin 4.01, “Kissing Christmas Goodbye”

[laniidae-passerine]

the impeccable energy Agatha/Charles has... two bickering friends, both entirely sure that the other is not their type at all how dare you! and yet constantly flirting, only for one of them to fall head over heels and realise that they’ve been in love this whole time... plus it had ‘fake dating/marriage’ thrown in the mix which makes it legendary

[catebees]

This was supposed to be a quick thing

[madiroller]

ISELLA FRAITH

This is one of my fantrolls! She went from being a petty burgundy thief to the moirail of an heiress and the matesprit of a violet blood. She’s still a thief, but much less petty.

The background is a bit lazy, but here she is!

[tudorblogger]

Book Review - 'Agatha Raisin: Beating About the Bush' by M.C. Beaton

Book Review – 'Agatha Raisin: Beating About the Bush' by M.C. Beaton

When private detective Agatha Raisin comes across a severed leg in a roadside hedge, it looks like she is about to become involved in a particularly gruesome murder. Looks, however, can be deceiving, as Agatha discovers when she is employed to investigate a case of industrial espionage at a factory where nothing is quite what it seems. The factory mystery soon turns to murder and a bad-tempered…

[lovewales]

Tryfan and Llyn Caseg-Fraith  |  by Dave Fieldhouse

[fotozap]

The Benefits of His Promises

The Benefits of His Promises

Psalms 147:5-6 Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit. 6The Lord sustains the humble but casts the wicked to the ground. The Benefits of His Promises                 Tender is the heart of the Father toward His own.  Faithfully He watches over them.  His steadfast love never forsakes us and He keeps us in the shadow of His wing.                 Faithful are the…

[the-light-of-truth-world]

[flints-silver]

you are my moon and all my stars, ch. 1 - faith/fred

faith/fred high school AU!

also on ao3

Faith Lehane sighs deeply and opens her eyes a crack as the dreary gray morning light filters in through her broken window blinds to softly—but surely—demand that she wake up. She has no clock in her room but she guesses it’s just about time to get ready for school. Her body has always been oddly attuned to different nature cycles, like mother nature or whoever decided to take some pity on her and grant her this mostly useless gift. Still, sometimes it comes in handy—when she was little, even when she was half asleep, she could tell by how bright the moon was what time it was and how soon her mom would arouse from her drunken stupor and be ready to come shake her awake and scream at her about one thing or another. Okay so maybe it wasn’t a special-gift thing and more of a having-fucked-up-parental-figures thing.

Faith curses quietly as she tries to untangle herself from her plain white bed sheet and ends up banging her knee on her metal bed frame. She unleashes another string of curses as she tries not to punch a hole in the wall. She’s really not in the mood for any shit today; she feels like she’s gonna blow a fuse.

She wasn’t even supposed to be going back to school. She’d decided sometime around finals last year that ninth grade would be her last. What was the point, when she already knows what her future holds? Why suffer through a bunch of stupid tests and ignorant assholes—both students and teachers alike—when she could spend her last good years smoking on the rooftops and fire escapes of the Boston metropolis, stealing lipstick and powdered doughnuts from convenience stores, and watching old cartoons while sitting on her mom’s sagging couch with a bowl of cereal and milk (after having sneaked back in through a window after her mom left for “work”, of course), and just generally having some fun before she accepted her fate of becoming a Wallmart manager or some shit. Or dead. But no, after having missed one too many days of school last year, her counselor had called Faith into her office to tell her that she suspected that she was about to drop out and didn’t want her “giving up on her future”, and that if she did drop out she would have to call both her mother and social services. Telling her counselor that school was a waste of time for someone like Faith would just make her more concerned, and she really didn’t want to deal with whatever reaction her mother would have (probably a lack of reaction, which would hurt even though Faith would swear it doesn’t). So at the moment it looks like Faith is heading back to P.S. 132, the fucking cesspit.

Faith grabs various black articles of clothing off of her floor and sniffs them. She decides they smell fine. After dressing, applying dark lipstick and heavy eyeliner and smoothing some gel lightly into her hair, she sticks a pen and a packet of cigs into her back pocket and walks out the front door, ignoring her mother who’s still passed out on the couch.

*

Faith was supposed to meet her counselor before her first class started to prove she showed up, but she’s late (of course) so she doesn’t. Instead she slinks into World History and takes a seat in the back. Maybe she can sleep if she closes her eyes three quarters of the way?

The first third of the day passes in a blur. During the fifteen minute snack break Faith heads to the library after getting bitched out by one of her teachers for not having her textbooks.

Faith pushes her way past the heavy oak doors, where the musty old-book smell of the library hits her square in the face. There’s a new librarian behind the counter, a stately woman with a twisted knot of brown hair and a burgundy suit. Faith thinks she looks too classy for this place.

“May I help you, young lady?” The woman asks in a light, posh British accent.

“Uh...yeah,” Faith says slowly, thrown by the young lady. “I need some books. Like, textbooks. For class.”

“Right, right. Well, do you have your schedule? I can take a look and see what you will need.”

Faith raises her arms in a half shrug. “Unless it’s pressed real tight to my body, then no. I clearly don’t have a bag on me or anything where it could be hiding.” She’s trying to keep the attitude to a minimum, but this whole school/authority figures thing is, as usual, rubbing her the wrong way.

The woman narrows her eyes. “The school was supposed to mail you a packet of papers over the summer.”

Ah, her mother refusing to ever leave their real address on any official documents strikes again. “Look, that shit never shows up and I’ve never had any problems about it with the old library guy, okay? And it’s not too hard for me to figure out what classes I’m gonna be in.”

The woman sighs and drags out a notepad and a pen, and begins making a list as Faith tells her what classes she’ll be attending this semester.

As the woman writes, Faith’s eyes wander, canvassing the large, wood-paneled space. Faith and the woman are alone (presumably everyone else got their books when they were supposed to) except for a tall, thin brunette girl who’s sitting at one of the back tables, chewing on one of her pigtails and furiously writing in a notepad as she leafs through a thick volume. She makes an excited eep! noise when she comes to a certain section of the book, and starts writing even faster. Who the hell studies this hard on the first break of the first day of school?, Faith thinks as she watches her. The girl, feeling Faith’s eyes on her, raises her head. She pushes her glasses further up on her nose and flashes a bright smile, then raises her right arm and waves. Faith frowns. Does she know this girl? No, definitely not. Faith looks away quickly, pretending she hadn’t just been watching her. She’s kind of cute. Too bad she’s also clearly a total bookworm.

“Here you are,” the librarian states as she sets a thick stack of books down on the counter with a heavy thud. “Remember not to write in them or damage them in any way, and please bring them back at the end of the semester.”

“Got it,” Faith dismisses as she struggles slightly to wrap both arms around the books.

She heads toward the door and as she exits the library, she can feel two sets of eyes watching her leave.

*

Faith goes to one more class, but ditches Algebra right after and walks outside. She can’t handle that shit today.

She walks across the crunchy, dead grass of the football field, pulling out a cigarette and sticking it in her mouth as she heads toward the bleachers. She’s such a cliché.

A small group of burnouts nod at her as she swings herself into the space under the bleachers. Faith is respected by the fringe societies of the school for her loner status and readiness to fight stupid assholes, despite not being a part of any group. She also became somewhat of a legend among them after she was caught fucking one of the head cheerleaders. As awesome as that was, the situation ended up being a whole mess that Faith would rather not repeat.

Faith nods back and leans against the metal leg of the bleacher, closing her eyes and taking a deep drag off of her cig. She starts to get drowsy as she smokes. The sun beating down through the filter of the bleachers mixed with a cool breeze feels great, and Faith feels more calm than she has all day. She hears a bell ring from a distance and the roar of hundreds of students as they enter the quad, and she deduces that the lunch hour must have started.

“Hi!”

Faith starts in shock and almost hits her head on the bottom of the bleacher. Her cigarette falls out of her mouth and lands in the dirt.

“Shit,” she mutters as she looks in despair at her ruined smoke.

She twists her head around and glares, wanting to see who disturbed her. It’s the girl from the library.

“Oh, sorry!” the girl exclaims in a high pitched, lightly accented voice. Faith’s not sure what the accent is. Southern, maybe? “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

Faith tries not to roll her eyes. “What were you trying to do?”

“Well, I noticed you up in the library and I figured I’d come say hi.” She sticks her hand out, Faith figures so that she can shake it. After a few beats she reaches out and grabs her hand, pumping it up and down. “My name’s Fred. Well,” she giggles, “it’s actually Winifred. But everybody calls me Fred. What’s your name?”

“Uh...Faith,” Faith says as she fumbles with her cigarette packet, trying to pull another one out.

“Ooh, Faith, that’s so pretty! I love it. Also, do you got any pot?”