#and then you cannot fuckin track them down to tell them to change the schedule

[crowcryptid]

Not only is my college barely offering any classes that are compatible with a normal work schedule, they cancelled the only history class that was available on Saturdays. How tf am I ever going to finish this :|

Some of my degree specific classes are only being given at like 10:30 AM on a Tuesday and that’s it. The basic requirements like English have the same issue.

Come on guys. You aren’t offering ANY basic required classes on a Saturday??? Or anything after 6 PM on a weekday?? Why are they all during work hours help.

[ew-selfish-art]

DPxDC AU: Tim receives an interesting email from DalvCo explaining why the CEO is not to be trusted- It's an internal email and suddenly Tim is experiencing supernatural phenomena. He knows that the two events are absolutely related, but he's going to let the cutie stumble his way through data points and vague threats anyway.

(Sorry this got long lmao)

Tim is exhausted after a long night of staking out a new drug cartel with Hood (which in itself took a lot of energy from both of them to have the patience for the other- things are good, not great)... so right now he's logging into his WE email on the train to his office because he's incredibly late. And while he scrolls and contemplates the failsafes he has to make sure Tam doesn't murder him outright- he sees an unexpected email from Vladimir Masters.

Tim's curiosity is piqued, he'd thought that Vlad would have gotten the hint after Tim dismissed him at that Christmas gala a few years ago. Most people took Tim's snubbing as a fatality in the Gotham socialite scene- Most knew him to be 'an agreeable young man', and Tim's reputation had paid a small price for making Vlad's failed vibe check known to the room. The tabloids blamed it on the champagne glass he had in his hand- Has he mentioned how much he hates Vicky Vale lately??

Tim has a few stops to go and he's pretty sure that he's going to delete the email, but in sleep deprived inspiration, he decides it might as well entertain him while he waits. The letter isn't at all what he expected.

"Hello Wayne Enterprise's CEO Tim Drake, I'm sending you this letter on behalf of the entire Midwest to advise that you, under no circumstances, come into contact with or speak to the CEO of DalvCo Vlad Masters. He is underhanded and utilizes untraceable tactics to procure deals. We have reason to believe you may be targeted in the next few days and hope that you are able to take steps for your own safety to avoid Vlad Masters at all costs.

Sincerely, 👑"

Tim feels bewildered for a moment and then... Like a cat with a new toy mouse. A game was afoot! He needed to track down these hackers, he needed to be their best fucking friend (find out their secrets & Vlads) and he needed to apprehend Vlad ASAP! Untraceable tactics? Tim scoffs, but the challenge excites him.

Arriving at WE, Tam looks ready to throw a knife his way (he reminds her that Pru does it better) and states that if Vlad Masters tries to make an appointment- accept it but give him the run around. Make an appointment and continue to contest it, change it, delay it until Tim is actually ready for him. The lights start to flicker, both of them notice it.

Everytime Tim gets a second to investigate Vlad in his office, the room's temperature drops. Tim notices it, and having experienced a number of supernatural phenomena, he knows it has to be related.

Tim decides not to beat around the bush. He comes back to the office that night equipped with a Ouija board, candles and a bag of other occult accessories. He quickly finds, upon setting up, that there is now a groaning Teenager in front of him- lambasting his efforts and chastizing him for taking a meeting with Vlad. Did he not get the fuckin memo??

Tim quickly begins to ask his questions, grateful to not have to deal with the party game board, and takes diligent notes.

"Right, so, you're just a concerned citizen ghost who knows what kind of nefarious deeds Vlad gets up to, how?" ---

Danny is losing his shit. Here he is, having done all the ground work to tell this guy not to meet with Vlad and he's already got him on the schedule! Danny took a page from Technus' book and transported himself alongside the short email. He didn't get this guy at all! Tim was like, basically the same age and clearly super fucking smart, why was he acting like this was a fucking birthday gift? Scratch that, the dude has a Ouija Board- it's like a lame ass birthday party in here!

Danny cannot help himself but return to the visible spectrum and give this guy a talking to- Which, the atmosphere of a birthday party still doesn't change, for ancient's sake this guy is taking notes with a megawatt smile! He's smiling! Danny just described Vlad taking down like, three American dynasties and the dude is nodding his head along gleefully.

Then suddenly, Danny realizes that he might be on the chopping block. Tim asks his first question and it's not about Vlad at all.

"Er, yeah. Just a concerned ghost citizen." Danny cringes.

"Right, and that's why you hacked into the Mayor of your town's email... Right Tucker?"

Danny blanches, not because the guy knew about Amity Park, but because apparently Tucker's online persona had been compromised. SHIT.

"Uh, I'm not Tucker." Danny attempts to lie- why was he so bad at lying again?!

"Of course you aren't, he's currently playing doomed, but it would have been smart to take the out I offered you. Do you want to tell me your name or do you want me to throw out another random guess? You should know that I've done my homework."

"...It's Danny."

"Certainly not Danny Fenton? Who is, sorry to say it, heir to DalvCo? The same one who totally doesn't have a school record of absences equivalent to well documented town hauntings?"

"Yep." Danny cringes, and giving up the goat, transforms back into his human self, "But seriously dude, you can't meet with Vlad. He'll just... take it all."

Tim blinks at him a few times, and his cheeks flush. Danny desperately tries to ignore that response as well as his own (he knows his ears are red, sue him).

"Right. Well, how would you like an internship? First order of business would be meeting with me and my PA Tam and helping us play ball." The guy has a feral grin. The grin kind of scares Danny, it definitely annoys him and a small part of him is curiously charmed.

"Dude you're not hearing me-" Danny tries before being cut off.

"Yeah yeah, supernatural bullshit is involved, Got that." Tim waves him off. Okay never mind, not charmed at all, Danny is completely annoyed.

"I swear to all the ancients-" Danny has to stop himself to calm down, "Dude consider yourself fucking haunted. I'm not helping you with a suicide mission to talk to the creep and I will be making your ass miserable for deciding to go down this path."

"Is that a promise?" Tim is basically batting his eyelashes at Danny and Danny is desperately trying to ignore that.

"Bet." And then he goes invisible.

"That's cute, pretending to leave me." Tim smirks and Danny can't help but let out an exasperated groan.

As it turns out, Tim is incredibly difficult to spook and his normal haunting methods are not fucking working. Has this guy just, like, seen every single horror movie?

----

Tim knows this is going to be fun, even if it means not going out as Red Robin for a while... Maybe he should get back into his night photography and give the guy a chance to enhance the creepiness of Gotham? Maybe start going to restaurants alone and get the guy to join him at a secluded two person table? Tim has plans on plans on plans.

[lovelyirony]

Hello friend! I'm in a mood and just feel like reading something sad. Could you pretty please maybe write some sad winteriron? Maybe something to do with terminal illness but it's up to you!

Being human means that there are many things that could happen to you and you can’t help it. 

Like cancer. 

Or being hit by a bus. 

Maybe a heart condition that you didn’t know about until you were thirty-two, had weird chest pains, and then found you didn’t have genetic testing done and neither parent told you about any extensive medical history because they both were estranged from the family. 

Okay. That was specific. 

But Tony was laying in a hospital bed and the doctors told him that he wouldn’t live past forty and he would die of heart failure. 

He feels like he should be hit harder by this. He only has eight years left to live. He shouldn’t be in his kitchen making eggs, he should probably be hysterically calling Rhodey and Pepper and Happy and asking them about funeral arrangements and what he’s going to do and quite possibly if spending the extra money to get the executive suite at the fancy hotel in Switzerland is worth it. 

Except he doesn’t want to. 

Death is a messy process. Not for him, they assured him of that. But everyone asks you questions and your loved ones. You have to figure out where to bury someone if they didn’t do it beforehand. Sometimes you have debates about cremation. Other times about how much you want to spend on a casket. 

He really doesn’t want to look at Rhodey or Pepper or Happy when they talk about that because he knows that their faces will break into tears and he will see the tear tracks when they go home to their houses and cry some more. 

Nonsense. 

If he can hide it, then he will. He doesn’t want to be a bother, it would be...unfortunate. 

Besides. He’s lonely at the top, and there’s no climbing back down the mountain. He won’t pull a Scrooge and get visited by three ghosts. 

So he lives. 

He pulls some risky moves, but nothing that makes Pepper have the “are you up to something serious that could potentially cause my midlife crisis to go off-schedule” talk. 

Again. 

He donates more money to charities and helps people pay off medical bills and walks around New York late at night to wonder why he’s going to die in eight or maybe even seven years instead of the proposed twenty to thirty. (What? He wasn’t going to be too generous, he knew himself.) 

Tony wonders sometimes if he will meet someone and they will make him want to live so much more than he can. It will be like those romantic dramas with rainfall and hair plastered to foreheads and passionate kisses that leave some of the older women teary-eyed and wishing that their husband would do something like that. 

But he’s a genius, so he knows statistics like the back of his hand. 

There will be no one. 

Eight turns into seven. He celebrates by getting absolutely slammed on New Year’s Eve and wakes up to the shittiest radio station blaring. He’s pretty sure they’re playing Maroon 5, which fucking ugh. 

New Year, new resolutions. He doesn’t bother to make one. 

“Why not? You usually make a joke one,” Rhodey says. 

“We are all going to die,” Tony answers. “Why make a resolution if I don’t want to? If I were to die in a year, it wouldn’t really matter.” 

“Okay Lord Byron,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “You want Hot Topic giftcards for your birthday? Huh?” 

Tony laughs. 

Rhodey always knows how to make him laugh. 

Tony doesn’t know how he’s going to make Rhodey laugh when he’s dead. So that’s a breaking point where he stares at the wall and starts to write random memories down, like the time they snuck up onto a hotel’s roof to see the city wake up and the wind chapped their lips and Tony swore that he’d never leave Rhodey. 

Except he is. 

And he realizes that he needs to let Pepper and Rhodey and Happy know that he loves them a lot. So he starts the letters. 

He writes a letter to Pepper to remind her about how much she regrets getting light blue nail polish every single time she gets a manicure, and she should never get it. (Yes, even for a wedding she’s in, get something, anything other than that.) 

He writes a letter to Happy that is basically just wondering about how they can troll asshole celebrities that they know. He doesn’t know, but maybe he will find some dirt so that if Happy ever falls on dire times, he will have some extra cash flow coming in. Not that Tony would let that happen, but say Happy ever did. Maybe someone stole his bank information. Who knows what will happen in seven or six years. 

Summer still sucks. He thinks maybe he’ll like it more, now that he knows that his heart is going to quit. But it still smells like piss and garbage on the streets of New York, people are still blasting shitty music and riding bikes too dangerously, and he still feels gross by two p.m. when he goes outside to face the world. 

Not even the treat of shaved ice helps this. 

“At least I won’t have to face another one in seven years,” Tony murmurs. “Thank god for that.” 

Seven turns into six. 

It’s around this time when an attractive redhead shows up at his office, bends down a bit lower than necessary, and Tony gets the feeling that SHIELD should really train their agents a bit better if they want something out of him. 

He organizes a meeting with Fury, walks in, and states that they cannot afford him. 

“You know that your help would be particularly useful,” Fury says. 

“For you to get what?” He asks. “Don’t bullshit me with some answer about compassion. Peggy Carter was kind, but she wasn’t a damned saint.” 

“There are new...developments.” 

Like the fact that they’ve found Captain America. And Bucky Barnes didn’t fall off into a random ravine, so the four different conspiracy theory documentary videos that Tony watched last year were about five hours of wasted time. 

They need somewhere to stay. Fury wants Tony to foot the bill. 

“What, can’t ask the government for funding?” Tony asks. “I’m sure if they can up the budget for military every year, that covers Cap and his old pal. Hell, I bet they’ll even open up the champagne fridges.” 

“They don’t know about it.” 

“And why would that be? Because you’d rather have idols to yourself?” 

It’s a low-blow. But Tony agrees to take them in. He just doesn’t want to see them, notably because his father was a bit of a Captain America fan, Tony had had a crush on the former sharpshooter when he was a younger guy, and it was all kinds of messed up. 

But he gives them their own little apartment, one of his safehouses. 

“This ain’t little,” Steve mutters to himself, unpacking a box of plates. Natasha has been nice enough to show them around and tell them about the changes she finds relevant. She forced them to listen to what she called ‘the goddess of pop’ in the car, and Bucky nearly clawed out the stereo after “Toxic” came on. 

“Fuckin’ palace,” Bucky mutters. “Who’s is this?” 

“A man in high places,” Natasha answers. “He doesn’t want to be known. Doesn’t exactly play well with others.” 

She leaves them be, and there’s so much that has changed. Steve is still looking for any sign of the past he can find in Bucky, and Bucky...

He’s not who he used to be. He doesn’t remember half the shit that Steve does. Perks of having your brain so fried up that you can barely remember your middle name. 

They eat together in silence. 

“I guess...I guess we have to figure out who we really are,” Steve says. “Because you’re not who I remember, and I’m not...I guess I’m not either.” 

Bucky nods. 

“Do you reckon we’ll like going out dancing?” 

The answer is a strong no, although Steve has to say the drinks have improved a hell of a lot more. He likes the ones that come with the small paper umbrellas. He doesn’t know where they get them, but it gives him an idea for an art project. 

Tony doesn’t hear much about the wonder boys. He doesn’t want to, not really. Natasha just says they’re getting more and more adjusted and she has evidence of Steve Rogers going clubbing. 

“Oh my god,” Tony groans. “Romanoff, do not.” 

“It’s funny.” 

“I don’t wanna know.” 

“What, you jealous that you’re not dancing with him?” 

“Hardly. Blonde and beefy isn’t my type.” 

“Then what is?” 

“Classified.” Tony answered. “Now, is there anything else you want SHIELD to suck out of me?” 

“Well, my manicure funding is getting rather low...” 

Tony snorts, but points towards the door. 

His chest hurts. It’s been happening. He’s actually gotten used to it. In a way, he’s more concerned when it doesn’t hurt. He went to another specialist. They say his death sentence is signed, even if they don’t word it like that. Here’s how it is usually worded: 

“I have a colleague who works at insert-clinic/hospital-here...I can refer you to Dr. So-and-So?” 

They can. But it’s another list of referrals of so-and-so’s and clinics and appointments at the most inopportune times. 

All for nothing, because Tony knows that he can’t be fixed. The human body sometimes works like a machine. But it’s not one. It’d be like Tony calling a dog a wolf. Similar, but no one wants to bring a wolf into their house as a pet. 

He gets a phone call from someone named Deputy Director Hill. 

-

He needs a new arm. 

Barnes needs a new arm. Of course he does. Tony should’ve expected that, of course. Hydra isn’t exactly known for revolutionizing prosthetics or being particularly kind to their projects that they work on. So Tony automatically has a one-up. 

He gets Barnes to come to this mechanic garage, surrounded by old tin signs and vintage cars that cost more than most of the monthly rent of penthouses in New York. 

Bucky does a double-take. 

“Howard?” 

“I hope not,” Tony answers. “Hop up on the chair for me, please. I’m getting you a new arm.” 

“This is fine,” Barnes automatically spouts. Tony can see the damage from here, and can even point out that the arm’s reaction time is probably the worst it has been currently. 

“If you want to stick to your Great Depression ideals, then by all means be my guest and go bitch in a grocery store about prices,” Tony responds dryly. “But if you want an arm that’s gonna be actually good, then sit.” 

So he does. 

Tony looks incredibly similar to his father. But there’s something different about him. Something softer, almost. Bucky didn’t know Howard nearly as well as others did, but he knew that Tony wasn’t his father. 

“How are you adjusting to the city?” Tony asks. 

"Still the shithole we all know and love,” Bucky swears. “I think the rats got bigger.” 

“They did. It’s amusing and horrifying at the same time. You ride the subway yet?” 

“Yes and I’ve come to terms with it. Lots of new things to learn about it.” 

Barnes’ visits become more frequent. They talk about New York stuff. Tony tells him all about the fun events that have happened that he missed while he was doing time as an icicle. 

It’s nice, talking to him. Tony finally has someone who understands fatalistic humor and doesn’t respond with 

“That’s scary, Tony.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Bucky just says “cheers” and decides to tell Tony about the time he nearly died in 1992 because he lost his footing on the Eiffel Tower. 

Tony laughs, and laughs harder than he thought he had in a long time. 

-

Six turns into five. 

Bucky gets closer, and they have...something. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows that they go on breakfast dates most of the time and he knows the coffee orders by heart. 

“I think you’ve found someone,” Pepper says, teasing. “Look at you.” 

“Yeah, look at me,” Tony murmurs. 

He has five years left. That’s plenty of time to date someone and break up, right? 

Except. 

It’s...wonderful to date Bucky. They go all over, have fun trying the shittiest restaurants in town, and even get Steve to get out more and socialize with the group. 

They date and celebrate holidays together and have fun candles and--

Five turns into four. 

“Not that bad,” Tony whispers to himself when he’s getting ready for bed. 

“What’s not bad?” Bucky asks. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Just got a new toothpaste.” 

They watch It’s a Wonderful Life and Tony can’t really focus, not when he’s thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t picked out a design for his urn. 

Not when he realizes that he needs to break up with Bucky and make it a whole big scene so that no one will talk to him. It has to be about two years before the date, he thinks. 

He goes to another Dr. So-and-So. They say he might actually have one more year, but who knows. 

He doesn’t. 

But he wakes up with Bucky every day and they make breakfast, and he thinks that maybe he could tell him? Maybe? 

The words get stuck in his mouth. 

He can’t. 

He meets with his lawyer for the will. 

“Why making sudden changes?” 

“Just like to shake things up,” Tony says with a smile. “Never know what’s going to happen, right?” 

“You are right about that,” the lawyer says. He’s a bit uncomfortable. Tony Stark looks at him like he knows that his life is short and that something else will come up. But it’s not the lawyer’s job to ask if things really are okay, and it’s not like Tony would tell him anyway. 

So he makes the changes to the will. 

Tony looks at Bucky as he’s napping, face so peaceful. 

He can’t ruin that. 

[janeofcakes]

Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Ten Feet from the Pack: Chapter 3

Hi, Everyone! I hope you’re all still out there and are staying healthy. Hopefully, this will give a little distraction if only for a few minutes. I love you all!!

***

So while you sit back and wonder why, I got this fuckin’ thorn in my side. Oh my god, it’s a mirage. I’m tellin’ y’all, it’s sabotage.                                                                                            --The Beastie Boys, Sabotage

John Watson stands in front of a quaint house wondering what the fuck he’s doing there. It’s been two weeks since his first day in the stadium. Fourteen days since he spoke with Molly Hooper about her suspicions. It has been in the back of his mind ever since as he has read medical records in his office, spoken to the skaters in the exam and training rooms, and even while making dinner or reading a book in his flat. It is especially on his mind while he watches the ladies practice and god, he cannot believe how hard they hit on the track. He has seen hockey players crumple under hits like these and they are covered with pads. Frankly, John is surprised there are not more injuries throughout the year, especially since these are only the practices.

He blows out a breath and takes his hands out of his pockets. John had plenty of chances to change his mind when he looked up the retired doctor’s address and while driving the hour and a half to the cheerful little neighborhood. He is here now. He might as well get on with it. 

Striding up to the house, he takes in its white siding and dark green shutters. Many of the windows have boxes containing bright red poppies and small daisies. It’s like it was pulled right from Wizard of Oz and deposited in a Detroit suburb. John steps onto the porch where there is a single wicker chair sitting just to the left of the door and suddenly visions of the stereotypical old man perched on his porch with a shotgun, yelling at children to get the fuck off his lawn pop into his mind. A small smile teases at the corners of his mouth as he directs his attention to the door again and hesitates before knocking. He has no idea what to expect from this man. John glances at the chair again and then knocks firmly. The door opens almost immediately to reveal a man with greying hair and a smile that lights up his whole face. He looks almost joyful. And the epitome of Mr. Rogers, tan cardigan and all.

“I wondered if you’d get up the nerve to knock,” he remarks in a friendly tone. “I saw you drive up from the kitchen window.”

“Um...sorry,” he huffs an embarrassed laugh. “My name is John Watson. I’m looking for Dr. William Wiggins.”

“You found him, and it’s Billy,” the man answers warmly. “What can I do for you, John Watson?”

“Uh...well, I’m not exactly sure,” he cringes, lifting a hand and cupping the back of his neck. “You see, I’m the new doctor for the Detroit Rock City Rollers.”

“Ah, and you want to pick my brain, eh? Some of the ladies are probably different now, you know.”

“Yes, probably, but that’s not what I had in mind, actually,” John bites his lip and wonders how the hell he is going to explain this without sounding insane. He clears his throat and knows exactly how Molly felt. God, what is he even doing here? “I’ve only been here a couple of weeks and I… Molly Hooper...”

“Ahh,” Billy breathes, stepping back from the doorway. “Molly sent you. Come in, John Watson. Come in.”

Moments later, the two men are seated in the living room. John is on the couch and Billy sits in the recliner just opposite. John purses his lips with no idea how to start. To his surprise, the older man beats him to it and cuts right to the chase while he’s at it.

“She shared her suspicions with you.”

“Yes,” John breathes. He swallows and leans forward, sitting on the edge of the couch. “She told me about the accidents.”

“They weren’t accidents, Dr. Watson,” Billy’s voice is stern and his eyes are so intense a pang of discomfort jets down John’s spine. “Every one of those incidents was sabotage.”

“Can you prove that?”

“No,” Billy sighs. John feels himself deflating and he cannot hide his disappointment. Billy shakes his head. “I could easily see there were more injuries than usual. It was as plain as the nose on your face. Didn’t really occur to me that it could be anything other than a series of unfortunate accidents until Molly brought it up.”

John’s eyes are glued to the elderly man and he waits quietly for him to go on. Billy picks up a glass of lemonade from the side table and takes a drink. He had offered John a glass before they sat, but John had respectfully declined. Billy holds the glass in both hands and shakes his head once.

“I was taking a look at her knee. It was a follow-up visit weeks after to make sure it had healed well. She went very quiet when I asked her how it felt. I knew there was something on her mind, but I didn’t say anything,” he shrugs. ”I knew she would tell me when she was ready.”

“She told you it wasn’t an accident.”

“She checked all of her equipment a few hours before the bout. It was all fine, but a bearing came loose and the wheel flew right off,” Billy’s voice is very grave. “Even that could have been coincidence, but her knee pad blew out as soon as she hit the ground. There’s no way. No way in hell.”

“Who were you playing?” John asks.

“The Detroit Demons.”

“There are two teams in Detroit?”

“It’s a big city,” Billy replies. “They are Rock City’s biggest rival. Bouts with them are always the worst and hardest hitting.”

“Were they always playing them when it happened?” John is intrigued.

“No,” Billy places the glass on the coffee table between them. “It didn’t seem to matter who the ladies were playing and that made it harder to find a pattern.”

“Did you consider the possibility that it might be someone skating with Rock City?” John all but whispers. It is a huge gamble. The man might clam up and throw him out at just the suggestion. He had worked with Rock City a long time. He is sure to have plenty of pull with Mrs. Hudson and the staff. One angry phone call about paranoid and insulting accusations could get John fired before he has even started. John waits and watches the doctor for signs of anger that do not come.

“No,” Billy shakes his head. “I can’t believe it of them. Any of them.”

“Did you notice it happening more or less during a certain part of the season? Or in certain places?”

“Not really. It happened every few bouts. Sometimes five in between, sometimes ten. Derby is like hockey, Dr. Watson. There are a lot of bouts.”

“Tell me about it. I saw the schedule for the first time this morning,” John furrows his brow. Attacks on the team with no discernible rhyme or reason leave little room to find the answer to the mystery. How could John find clues where there aren’t any and without Velma Dinkley declaring ‘jinkies’ when one does present itself?

Staring at the lemonade glass on the table, deep in thought, John does not notice Billy studying him closely. The older man wears a thoughtful expression. He is learning as much from and about John as the doctor is from him.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could be of more help,” he says finally.

“I think you can,” John replies, meeting the man’s eyes again. Billy tilts his head curiously. When John speaks, his voice is low and deadly serious. “Molly mentioned poison. She said you were poisoned.”

Billy’s expression darkens and he nods slowly.

“She really has put her trust in you,” he says quietly. “Yes, I was poisoned. I made sure everyone was told it was a bad case of food poisoning to avoid panic, but a couple of them knew what really happened. They could tell.”

“Molly was one of them.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone else?”

“No,” he answers plainly, averting his eyes to the table for a moment. “I retired and moved on. That’s what whoever did it wanted and I’m too old to deal with that shit.”

“So they still don’t know?” John asks, incredulous. “Didn’t you think one of them might be next?”

Billy leans close and stares into John’s eyes. John follows suit, anxious to hear Billy’s next words. Knowing the risks, how could this man keep such a secret?

“Someone wanted me out, Dr. Watson. I was the clear target and there was no sense worrying the team. Yes, there were accidents, but only with minor injuries. I had no reason to believe anyone was in mortal danger.”

“Does Greg know at least?”

“Molly knows.”

“Jesus,” John runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long breath, “someone else should know. Greg or Mrs. Hudson. Someone should be watching out for more accidents. Molly can’t do it while she’s on the track.”

“You know now,” his words silencing John. “Now you can help Molly find out who’s doing it and then prove it. I have the tox report, but it isn’t much good without a suspect and proof.”

“What was it?” John asks after puffing out an almost flustered breath. “What did they use?”

“Cyanide.”

John’s brows raise as he blinks in disbelief. He leans back on the couch for the first time since he sat. He turns everything around and around in his mind, trying to put it all together in a way that makes sense. Who would target the Rock City players and their doctor, especially their doctor? Another team? Why? The answer is obvious. To be on top. To win the championship. But why Billy? Why not Sherlock? He rebuilt the team from the ground up. 

The answer hits John like a slap in the face.

“They wanted to get rid of you and bring Anderson in,” he says as a piece clicks into place.

“Maybe,” Billy replies thoughtfully. He gives John a look and narrows his eyes. “You have met Sherlock?”

“Yes,” John answers with a short laugh. Billy raises his brows. John presses his lips together and looks at the old man. He has an almost mischievous glint in his eye. Should John tell him what he really thinks?

“And?”

“Honestly?” John sighs when the man nods. “I don’t know what to think. He’s so easy to talk to and it makes me feel like I’ve known him my whole life. Then he’s cold and distant and would rather do anything but talk to me. He avoids me at practices and basically ignores me at meetings. He’s a fantastic coach though and boy, can he skate. He’s amazing.”

John looks back at Billy to see a smile growing on his face. He looks down at the floor and corrects himself.

“It’s amazing. And the team is phenomenal. I’ve only seen scrimmages so far, and I’m just learning the rules, but they are really good. They communicate so well with all these signals that look like they’re just shaking out a kink or something.”

“That’s pure Sherlock,” Billy grins openly now. “He’s very clever.”

“Yeah, well, he’s certainly good at avoiding what he doesn’t want to deal with,” John grumbles. 

“He is very opinionated,” Billy laughs, “and has one hell of a stubborn streak. He can be a handful.”

He pauses and looks at John with a wisdom John has not seen since his mother closed her eyes for the final time. He sighs deeply and his expression softens.

“He gets his signals crossed when it comes to sentiment. He’s been burned before.”

“Sentiment?” John furrows his brow. 

“He’s a good ally to have, Watson,” Billy says instead of answering. He leans forward again and looks at John intently. “After what you’ve told me, I can see now that whatever was going on is more serious than I thought. I was a fool for not seeing it then.”

He shakes his head, his face now full of regret and urgency.

“I may not have been the only target after all. You and Molly have to stop it before something terrible happens. Get Sherlock to help. He will face the devil himself for the ladies. He’ll listen to the two of you. Don’t dismiss him as a lost cause.”

“No offense, Billy, you know him better than I, but why would he believe me? He doesn’t believe Molly.”

“Strength in numbers, Watson. He trusts Molly and she trusts you.”

“She says he trusts me,” John gives a half laugh and turns his head away from the older man. He can feel an unexpected low burning anger in his gut, though it is not directed toward Billy. He continues, suspicious and spiteful. “I suppose I should believe her since they’re thick as thieves. There’s something going on between them.”

“Careful, Watson,” Billy says in a quiet, warning tone. “There are some things one should stay away from. Leave it be.”

John looks back at him and then shakes his head.

“He’ll listen to you and Molly, John,” Billy says in a voice of absolute certainty.

John looks up in surprise at the sound of his first name. Billy is wearing a decisive expression and nodding his head slowly.

“Trust me.”

***

There you go! The plot thickens. Anyone surprised and pleased to see Billy in an extremely different role? Haha! Tickles me pink! I can’t wait for y’all to see what’s coming up next. I’ll just say one thing...dinner?

@zentris @toooldforthissh-stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @thetranslucentwallaby @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler

[blacknovelist]

A Place to Be - BNHA Fic (Ch. 3)

As promised, here’s the third chapter, one day later!! Actually, I scheduled this to post at like, nine or ten in the morning along with a reblog of chapter 2 so y’all could see them at a relatively reasonable time instead of like, one or six in the morning or midnight. You’re welcome. Though as a result, chapters 1 and 2 might not have the proper links to chapter 3 for a while. Sorry.

Anyway, this is the first chapter outta two that I was really, really ready to fuckin’ write when I started this fic in the first place, since it was one of the scenes/parts me ‘n’ @guardianlioness​ actually talked about back when the concept happened. Though, since I made plot changes, I ended up shifting the dynamic of the chapter a lot from the original plan. There’s a throwaway or two to the old concepts I’m not actively incorporating in this chapter though. 

I’m still a little ‘eh’ on Hisashi, but much less in this chapter than in the last one.  Partway through writing this, it became really cathartic. I guess I’ve got a lot more feelings on all of this than I thought I did, haha. I hope I did everything alright in the end.

[AO3] [ffnet]

[Ch. 1] [Ch. 2] [Ch. 3] [Ch. 4] [Epilogue]

Chapter 3: Infelicity

To act or speak in an inapt, awkward, or inappropriate manner.

Aizawa sighed, sliding into his desk chair. He rubbed his eyes, a glance at the clock telling him it was already 9:00pm. As he reached for his eye drops, a name at the top of one of the documents caught his attention.

Surname: Midor Given name: Hisa

He frowned, pausing as his mind flew to the innocuous man who had accompanied his students to the impromptu evening lesson earlier. Why would an ordinary business man, and the father of one of his students, have a file on his desk...?

"Oh!" Aizawa's head shot up at the cry, along with the heads of the few teachers still in the office.

"The sensors picked up unauthorized use of an unfamiliar quirk down on the grounds," one of the faculty said. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "I'm trying to track it now, but it only happened for a moment. I think it came from by one of the training-"

"Call security and send them down to delta gym immediately. I'm going to investigate."

They looked up, and only caught a glimpse of the white scarf trailing as he darted out the door. There was silence as the empty chair slowly spun and struck the table with a gentle 'thud'.

"I guess we know where he was earlier and what his students are doing, I guess," one of the teachers piped up. "Man, he's completely taken by those kids and he doesn't even know it."

"Absolutely."

"That's been obvious from the start."

"Security's on their way, but they probably already have everything handled down there anyway."

1-A stared, Izuku was more startled than a rabbit, Toshinori's face was stone, and Hisashi went pale. His hand clamped against his mouth like it just caused the ultimate betrayal, and in a way, it kind of had.

"I'm sorry," Hisashi said, after a moment. His hand dropped to his side. "Losing my temper like that was uncalled for, and my quirk coming out like that was even more so. I, I guess the long day's gotten to me more than I thought." He shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting from face to face. "It's important, but I can wait until the dorms before I talk to you, Izuku."

"Honestly, I think after that, it might be better if you come back another day," Tsuyu said. Hisashi's face twisted.

"Are you still-"

"I'm afraid," Toshinori interrupted, "that young Tsuyu is correct. As a member of the UA faculty, I cannot allow a breach in regulation from a visitor to be tolerated. Even if this was a burst of passion and emotion on your part, unless you're willing to impart your important message to young Izuku right here and within my sight I must ask that you leave campus for tonight at the very least. My apologies, Midoriya-san."

"Are you telling me I can't talk to my son properly before I leave?" He looked disgruntled, a contrast to the faint relief barely visible on Izuku's face. "I understand your rules are important, but isn't that a little harsh?"

"It's a necessary precaution in light of events as recent as a few months ago."

"Besides!" Sero sauntered up. "Not to accuse you of anything, Midoriya-san, but it wouldn't be hard for someone to impersonate a family member we're unfamiliar with."

"Plus Midoriya's told us about how he hasn't met you before. Or at least, not for a really long time," Kaminari spoke up.

"You already showed your judgement is impaired since you used your fire breath," Tokoyami said. "Forgive us for saying so, but many of us here are hesitant to put our trust in you after that display."

"A matter of trust?" Hisashi narrowed his eyes at them. "Well if that's the case we're talking, why should parents like me put trust in UA and it's rules? I can't be sure your school can look after my child sufficiently, or keep them safe when you're training them for one of the most dangerous careers in the world."

Izuku stepped up to the plate. "If you can't even keep a promise to make time to tell me important things and answer important questions, how can I trust you?"

"Of course you can and should trust me, I'm your father!"

Toshinori coughed. "UA has the best systems available to keep our students and staff safe. While I can understand you have doubts, given past inexcusable incidents, it's important that we believe in one another during this critical time."

"I wasn't even consulted when you pulled my son from home to live in these dorms. Isn't it your job to inform the parents of these kinds of changes?"

"You haven't so much as set foot in Japan for years. I know, because I accidentally asked Inko-san about it once and she told me herself." Uraraka frowned. "You didn't even call about the Sports Festival! Deku wasn't top three, but he put up a good fight the whole time."

"The Sports Festival is the reason I had to come back in the first place. I watched the footage - a quirk out of nowhere, ten years after it should have developed? It's unbelievable after the doctor reports, but now I can't deny it. Still." Hisashi turned to Izuku. "Fighting with something so damaging was reckless of you, but not as reckless as the people who let it happen." He whirled on Toshinori. "Being left in the dark is one thing, but letting my son scar himself permanently is another thing entirely!"

"That's why I'm here, to learn how to use it properly," Izuku said.

"What happened then was wrong on our parts," Toshinori said, hands held up. "We failed to be diligent, and young Izuku paid the price at that time. It-"

"You will not fail my son any longer," Hisashi growled. "That's why I'm here, to tell you that I want to pull him from UA."

Izuku froze along with the rest of the class, but Hisashi didn't. "Do you realize what it was like, for a father to watch his son, who he last saw as a small weak child, destroy himself on public television? He's lived what, fourteen years of his life without a quirk of any kind? It's not like he can't live without using it. Quirks aren't always needed for a good full life."

"Wait." Izuku's heart hammered. "Hold on, I-"

"What made you think someone who has less than a year's experience with their own quirk could be a hero in the first place? Isn't that kind of thing just cruel?"

Izuku flinched and, like the tide, his friends surged around him. Toshinori stepped between them and Hisashi, assured that his students would take care of each other. He said nothing as they clamored, scrambling to let their thoughts be known, and stood ready to intervene.

"That's not true at all!" Ashido yelled, waving an arm in Izuku's direction. "Midoriya is a great hero already!"

"Midoriya has proved time and time again that he belongs here as much as the rest of us," Iida said, glasses glinting.

Kirishima stepped in. "He's one of the stronger guys in our class too, with and without his quirk."

"And he's really really smart. He's like, fourth in class! I learned half our lessons by listening to him mumble while he's studying."

"Midoriya's our friend and classmate, you can't just take him away!"

"That's why I was going to talk to you, Izuku." Hisashi sighed. "I’m sure Inko will agree with getting you out. There's plenty of other places to go, things to do. You've always been sharp, surely you already know that UA isn't the best school for you."

"That's your own opinion, not to mention it isn't your call to make on anyone's behalf. Don't go putting words into Inko-san’s mouth, or Midoriya’s for that matter." If his quirk was sight-based, Todoroki's gaze would be a blizzard. "It's not your wishes or dreams resting on Midoriya's shoulders, it's his own. You don't have a right to come in here and try to take that away from him when he's come this far already, and not when you've spent this much time not here to witness that growth."

If Todoroki's look was cold, Hisashi's was blistering. "Even when it's what would be best for him? He's a teenager who was born quirkless and got into school because of some freak mutation that gave him one. That gap isn't something you can just forget about or change."

"Like fuck that's ever mattered to fucking Deku," Bakugou snapped. "Deku, who never shut up about quirks and his hero shit. Deku who fucking made into goddamn UA in the first place! Even if he's a fuckin moron who can't use his quirk for shit yet, he's here, isn't he?!"

"Midoriya's come incredibly far since school began," Shouji said. "Just like everyone else. You can't ignore that, either."

"He's smart enough to know better than to pick what you think over his dreams."

"That's enough." He moved to push through their ranks. "Who are you to stand between me and my son? This has nothing to do with you kids."

"I think, that is a question that needs to be asked of you."

Hisashi stopped, gaze locked with Toshinori's. The class stopped and stared, all but humming with anticipation. Unnoticed, Izuku snapped out of his shock and whirling thoughts (hethinksicantbuttheythinkicantheyremyfriendsbuthesmyfatherwhatdoidowhatdoido), looked up at the two figures in front of them, and felt understanding sweep over him.

"Who are you to come back into your child's life after years of being absent?" Toshinori asked, face impassive. "To call him son and take him away from his hopes and dreams? Young Izuku is here to learn and be a hero, like all these students here. What right do you have to claim that you know best when you barely know him?"

"I think I have more claim than their teacher, the retired shell of a man that's standing right in front of me!" Hisashi snarled. Heat twisted the air in front of his face, but not fire. "You've only known him for how long, two years? A year and a half?"

"Longer than he's known you, his birth father off overseas for work almost as long as he's been alive." Toshinori stepped forward. "Young Izuku is one of the most determined, heroic young men I've ever had the honor of knowing. I and his other teachers, at least, were able to be here for him when he needed us. The fact that you can't see how much he's thriving here tells me everything I need to know."

Hisashi regarded Toshinori for a moment, then spun on his heel to Izuku. "My son," Hisashi said. "Do you want to throw away your future so much? For the belief that your fledgling quirk will bring you anywhere in the little time you've had it?"

"Don't call me that." Izuku's expression was set. "I'm not yours, and I'm not the same son you left with Mom when you went overseas for the first time."

"Of course you're my son, don't say that. Honestly, I don't know why your mother let you stay."

"At least mom was here to decide in the first place," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're really convinced by all this?" Hisashi's eyebrows furrowed. "Honestly, Izuku, what made you think you could ever belong here, with people have been working with their Quirks for years? All the experience in the world, the things they want to teach you, they're worthless in the wake of how little time they actually have before hero society expects you to be forced out into the world! Just come back home, find something to do with your life that won't get you killed!"

There was silence, for just a moment.

The surprise faded from Izuku's face. "If you think I can't find my own way or place to be a hero or, or anything else at so all here at UA, you're wrong." He stepped towards Hisashi, and the rest of them shifted out of his way. "No one here is worthless-" like a quirkless boy, like me- "and the fact that my power manifested late doesn't mean I'm worth any less, or don't belong where everyone else does."

Hisashi blanched. "No, I, no, Izuku, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant-"

"Going home isn't going to make you happy with me, either," Izuku pushed forward. "Home isn't our old house, it's right here. It's this campus, these buildings, where I get to come back to my friends and teachers and mom every single day while I work towards my goals. I might not need to be at UA to be a hero, but at this moment in time? I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be." He rubbed the rough skin and dips of his right hand. "Somebody told me once, that, all of this, it's is what I've earned, with my own power and hard work. It's not much, but it's not something you can convince me to leave behind."

"I… You won't even hear me out as your father, concerned for your well-being?"

"That doesn't matter! Mom was worried, but she let me go, didn't she? I spent such a long time wondering about who you are, wishing I could meet you once in my life, but... There's more to being family than being related to each other. You might be my dad by blood, but we're as good as strangers right now. If you think I'll listen and leave with you after half a day, you don't know me at all."

The worry and underlying anger sank into hurt and incredulity. "You trust your classmates and teacher more than me."

"Toshinori-san's been there for me more than you have," Izuku said softly. "And so has everyone else. That's what's important."

“Izuku… I…”

Hisashi reached out, but Toshinori shook his head, stepping between them and next to his student. "Pardon me, Midoriya-san. I cannot speak for young Izuku, but... I think you would do well to come back another time. Talk to Inko, relearn your home, understand the differences in your family that came to be while you were gone." Toshinori put a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Until you can tell me with confidence that you're willing and ready to  be an ally and friend to my son before you make him see you as his father again, I'd like to ask you to wait before you think about coming back."

Hisashi’s lips thinned, but he said nothing.

"Yagi!" They both turned. "Security is on its way. What's going on here?"

"Ah, Aizawa." Toshinori blinked. "Just explaining a few things to Midoriya-san, and... Talking about a possible second visit date. He simply wanted to say something to young Izuku before he left."

"I, ah, that's...... yes. That's correct." He took a deep breath, and bowed. "I apologize for the trouble I've caused. I suppose the stress of travel before today might have had something to do with it!" He gave a weak chuckle. "Thank you for having me. I will see you around... Yagi-san. Izuku."

Hisashi brushed past Aizawa, who glanced at the trembling face of Izuku, the hand on his shoulder and the slowly dawning realization on Toshinori's face, and turned to follow him to the gates.

[edo-salandria]

FanFic: SENSORY OVERLOAD

SUMMARY: Natsu and Lucy have been targeted. A mysterious tattoo appears on both of them that changes their relationship in ways they could never have imagined.

RATED: M

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Also can be read on: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12234990/1/Sensory-Overload  (Up to Chapter 16)

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8 ; Chapter 9 ; Chapter 10 ; Chapter 11 ; Chapter 12 ; Chapter 13 ; Chapter 14 ; Chapter 15 ; Chapter 16

CHAPTER 11

The sun beamed into the room shining light on all the things that never get picked up off the floor. Mostly discarded mementos and clothing, the occasional plate or drink cup. Natsu was sleeping comfortably in his hammock his dreams were a mix of sparring, Igneel and Lucy. Toward the waking hours it was more Lucy than anything else. He dreamed of her sitting and writing at her desk with Happy in her lap playfully laughing as he tried to distract her. He was so happy and there was such a warmth in the dream that it took him a little longer than usual to realize someone was knocking on his door.

"Coming" he yelled as he rolled out of his hammock and brushed his fingers through his hair. He instinctually inhaled as he got closer to the door to see who was on the other side. Deep down he was really hoping it was Lucy, he needed to talk to her. He also wanted to see what her reaction would be to last nights incident, would he get a Lucy style beatdown or would she see him and blush with a knowing eye? To his dismay he didn't smell the Celestial Mage outside his door. Instead his nose was filled with a familiar delightful smell of delicate puffed pastry stuffed with a sweet tabasco cream filling. Only one person brings him these and that meant she was back. He opened the door wide with a smile "Mornin' Lisanna!" "Good Morning Natsu, I'm sorry I woke you but I wanted to come by and tell you about my latest job and I figured you would be hungry so I brought you these for breakfast!" Lisanna pushed the box of pastries toward him with a gleeful smile. Natsu stepped aside and let her in. She surveyed the room with a wrinkle to her nose and asked "Lucy hasn't been by huh?"

"Nah, things are a little crazy right now - so hey how was your job?" Natsu was settling down on his couch with the tasty delicious fire puffs, motioning for her to come sit with him "Thanks for the pastry by the way!"

Lisanna flopped onto the couch facing him "Fresh baked this morning! What do you mean crazy? What did you burn down now?" She was excited to share her job, but Natsu's crazy stories were always far more entertaining.

"Hey! Why does something always have to burn down?" he said with falsely offended tone. She responded with a look that said 'oh come on'. He continued "Well, long story short, Lucy and I are currently under a Sensory Link spell." He held up his wrist to show her "This basically means we can feel each other's senses and feelings."

Lisanna's spread a familiar devious smile that she only shared with her older sister "So, each other's feelings huh? Like, what kind of feelings?"

Responding to her as he ate his delicious breakfast "Nothing… I don't know…. It's weird and confusing." He shrugged it off and got up from the couch to put the box on the counter.

"Natsu, this doesn't sound like nothing. Can we be frank here? We are friends after all and unlike everyone else in this guild, I don't tease you about your relationship with Lucy."

"That's just it Liss, it's not a 'relationship' we are partners and best friends, we are not intimately involved."

"That's where you're wrong silly. A relationship does not mean just a romantic one. Your partnership and friendship is a relationship and it is an intimate one, just not physically. You guys share an intimacy that is not rivaled by any other team… except Bisca and Alzack. You two just can't see it."

"So we're like a married couple without the sex?"

Lisanna blushed immensely at the question. "Sort of, I'm just saying that the two of you are so close that it's a wonder to everyone how you two have not turned it to a romantic relationship."

Natsu leaned his head down on the counter and let out a long sigh. He wanted advice and honestly, Lisanna was the only one he would go to outside of Lucy. They had been friends for so long and she was the only other person that didn't make him feel misunderstood. "About that, I need your advice Liss."

She stared intently at the Dragon Slayer who is obviously struggling with what is going on. "I am not sure I can help you, but I can certainly listen. Sometimes just saying it outloud to someone can help."

He straightened up and gave her his wide toothy grin "You're right!" he came back over to the couch and sat down "So, I haven't said this to anyone - I do love Lucy, and not just as friend or family. I have for a while now." A sadness flickered through his eyes.

"And you haven't told her?"

"No I haven't." He looked down fiddling with his fingernails.

"Why?"

"Honestly? I've always suspected she was holding something back from me and everything we are is based in trust and openness. I just couldn't be honest with my feelings for her knowing that she was holding something held back. Then this sensory link crap happened and I think I figured it out, which just worries me more. I think she loves me the same way I love her but she is hiding it. I don't know why, and I just don't know what to do about it."

"Maybe this link is a good thing." she shifted while thinking of reasons "Are you aware of everyone's perspective of you."

"Ya… a wild and unstable pyromaniac who is immature and is a really really 'late bloomer'." he smirked a very self deprecating grin.

"Did it ever occur to you that she is holding back for that reason?" she shifted slightly "I mean, you don't exactly scream 'responsible adult looking for love'." she let out a small giggle.

"I don't care what other people think, and we've spent enough time together, she should know better than that. I… I don't know…" at this point all his nails were a lot shorter from picking at them.

Lisanna stood up abruptly, "There is only one way to find out Natsu, take the bull by the horns and talk to her, no more guessing games." She picked his overcoat and tossed it in his directions "Let's go!"

"But I thought you wanted to tell me about your job, here we've been just talking about my problems." he shrugged on the coat and zipped it up.

She started to open the door "It can wait" and reached out for his hand "Come on silly!" He grasped her hand lightly and they walked out of the door together. "It's time to get this problem solved so you can finally tell her the truth."

They were only a few steps from the house when he felt a sudden pang of sadness it jolted him so that he released Lisanna's hand and clutched at his chest. He thought he caught a faint scent of Lucy.

Lucy was in line at small cafe waiting to get a delicious hot chocolate, she was teaming with nerves at the prospect of confronting Natsu. It was comprised of excitement, fear and embarrassment. She found herself up rather early that morning, it was a perfect time to sort through her thoughts and emotions. She finally decided with an almost firm resolve to tell him the truth, link be damned. The events of the night before gave her the push she needed, as much as the physical aspect was pleasant, it was the emotions she felt behind it that convinced her. 'Maybe I was totally wrong, all these feelings cannot be from me alone. I'll never know unless I ask him.'

She walked briskly along winding streets with her steaming hot chocolate. She was trying to block out what she would say because, in all honestly she knew how much she over thought things. She would take a page out of her partner's book and just go on instinct. She did feel a little bad for telling Happy he couldn't come along. She really didn't want any commentary from the peanut gallery though while trying to suss out feelings.

She finally was coming up the path to Natsu and Happy's little cottage she saw many footsteps tracked in the snow, some fresh some not, she smelled a faint scent of puff pastry and thought that was a weird smell considering it was early still and Natsu probably wasn't up yet. The closer she got the pastry smell was mixed with the scent of lavender it was a feminine scent there was a small knot buried deep in her stomach. 'Maybe he had a delivery scheduled?' was what she told herself to placate her overactive imagination. The cottage was now in view and she started to walk more slowly, her nerves were on fire, so many questions floating in her mind. 'What do I say to him? What if he doesn't feel the same? Am I doing the right thing? What is this woman's scent?' she watched the door open and her first reaction was to duck into the bushes nearby. She couldn't really see but she knew instantly she didn't want to because what little she did see made that knot feel a lot larger. She saw Lisanna holding Natsu's hand she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. Her hearing could pick up the conversation faintly "It's time to get this problem solved so you can finally tell her the truth." In that moment she felt her stomach drop and a wave of immense sorrow flooded her. 'Fuckin' idiot' quickly and silently she scurried away so she wouldn't be seen.

Walking tall now back to another path nearby in the woods she tormented herself with scene over and over again and joining it was the previous actions the night before. 'Dammit, that's what I get for getting my hopes up and not keeping my shit in check. He wasn't thinking of me at all last night, he was with her.' she snickered to herself 'and here I was worried that he would be projecting false affection toward me. I'm the friggin' idiot for misinterpreting his feelings for her as ones for me. When it comes to the heart I'm the stunted one, not him.' she came upon a small clearing with a large solid rock and decided to take a rest leaning against it. She needed to collect herself but before she could do that she just completely unravelled. She cried silently with nothing but the soft sounds of the winter forest around her. She would have thought it absolutely beautiful if she wasn't so consumed in tears and sniffles.

Finally after a good ten minutes of steady tears she did the only thing she knew to bring her back from her pity party and into reality. She started wiping away her tears and placed placed her mouth over her joint of her index finger and bit down as hard as she could. In that moment her mind snapped like a rubber band back to the hear and now. She steeled her mind against the emotions of what she encountered, she put up a wall to hide it all. Sadly, this wall took the shine in her eyes with it. They were no longer a warm chocolate brown, now they were just a cold and hollow shade of brown. It wouldn't last forever, just until she was used to this new mental wall she built. 'I'm glad Natsu found someone and honestly Lisanna is a good fit for him. I need to be happy for them. What I want is not possible and I shouldn't have allowed myself that sliver of hope.' Realizing she was still biting down on her finger dropped her hand to her side and clearing her throat she spoke to the silent forest "Time to go to the guild and get this link shit over with." She looked down at her finger which actually had blood trailing down it and made a mental note 'I need to clean and wrap this'.

As Lisanna and Natsu travelled the path from his doorstep, he picked up on Lucy's scent, even stronger this time. It also felt like she was in great emotional turmoil the stronger her scent got. He was baffled. He didn't see and signs of her, the snow had been so worn with tracks that there was no way for him to tell any apart. 'Maybe I am losing my mind.' However there was no denying that right now she was hurt for some reason. 'Maybe what I did was a mistake, maybe she woke up and instantly regretted it, maybe she's really pissed that I did that to her.' They took the path toward the guild and the air was back to that crisp winter smell. 'Ya, I was totally smelling things.' As they entered the guild he felt a concentrated amount of pain on his index finger. It was not quickly fleeting either. He kept flexing his hand to try and fix it but it didn't work. He became instantly engaged in conversations and he didn't notice the pain subside.