#and shes always walking underfoot because shes a freak

[tamaharu]

so we suspect one of our dogs grew up abused which is. a terrible way to start this. but we've had her for five or six years now and she still retains a lot of her habits but its very cute to see how our love for her has changed her. youll see her all curled up tail tucked in ears flat as you approach but shes making these tiny little tail wags anyway.

[camillelespanayesbtch]

Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)

Summary: It isn't your fault you like the feeling of power, the sensation was addictive, and although it never worked out well for those around you, it certainly worked well for you. You weren't to blame that people seldom survived attacking you, it was their fault after all. But you can only run for so long before your misdeeds catch up to you, and where will you be left after? It's dangerous to walk certain paths alone as a young witch.

Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)

Word Count: 4690

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Chapter One

You hum to yourself as you follow the marks you carved into the trees, a hidden path you had created that left those who follow you believing you were the perfect victim, blissfully unaware of the danger that followed you. You could hear the boys talking among themselves, their gleeful snickering as they think about all the things they could do to you now that they had you alone and unaware. Like most evenings, the forest was a cacophony of sound, there wasn’t an inch of space where there was silence, every crevasse had sound, even the ants clicked to one another to inform the other of the crumbs of bread that were left abandoned on the floor of the community hall that hosted giants. The leaves crunch underfoot, small twigs snapping as you step on them, continuing to hum the tune until you come to a clearing in the forest.

There was a space where no leaves were, a perfect circle that had been made over years of the same trick, black as the night sky is dark. “Look boys,” Douglas says with a grin, “She’s made a spot for fucking, just for us.” He moves closer to you, the others surrounding you as well, all of them giving each other encouraging looks. They didn’t believe the stories about boys going missing because every coven had tales like that, even the girls were told tales about their powers being taken when lured to walk the witch’s road, but everyone believed that it was just the danger of the road and not one of their own doing it. “I wonder if her tits are as big as her top makes them look,” Douglas says, advancing on you quickly, his hands twitching by his side as he thinks about tearing your shirt from your body.

“I’ve seen them through her window when she changes,” Clint says, “They’re small, no bigger than a handful, but at least they’re perky.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes glinting dangerously. This wasn’t his first time taking what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be his last, just like the other boys he was with- if he sees something he wants, he takes it. His mother did raise him to be respectful towards women, especially those in the coven, but she always spoke about you as being the exception. You were the freak of the group, the one people whispered about, warned the kids to stay away from least you corrupt them. So, really, what he and his friends were about to do wasn’t a bad thing, it was deserved. “We should take pictures and add them to the wall.”

“We should take pictures and add them to the wall,” you mimic, turning to face them. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to keep trophies? Or was that too much for your tiny little boy-brains to comprehend?” You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh as you shake a few knots loose. You were hungry, and these boys would be enough to last you a few weeks. Sure, they weren’t as powerful as the elders, too jumped up on the testosterone coursing through their bodies to focus on mastering the craft, instead relying on brute force to get things done. “Didn’t mommy teach you better? Or even your fathers? No, I suppose not. No, daddy left you boys behind, didn’t he? Went off to go fuck some young maiden the next town over,” you make a vulgar gesture, thrusting your hips before laughing when you see the group clench their fists in anger. “Oh no, did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do? Blast me?”

It would only take one. It only ever takes one, but they didn’t know that. Of course they didn’t know that they barely knew how to groom themselves let alone see the signs of a trap, to even see that sometimes there is truth in the tales they have been told since childhood. You mightn’t have believed the ones about the Purple Witch, but you wouldn’t deny that there is something alluring about her. The ability to take someone’s powers? You wondered what it felt like, if it was as addictive as watching people burn, using their own powers to cause their deaths. “Lucas and Clint, hold her down,” Douglas orders, his eyes burning into yours.

The two boys he orders raise their hands, their magic shooting from their hands and wrapping around your wrists. They both were smirking until they see the lopsided grin on your face, a darkness settling into your eyes. You breathe in deep through your nose, tilting your head back up to the sky as your eyes drift shut, feeling the warmth starting to spread through your body and bloom out from your palms, “Oh boys,” you exhale. “Silly, stupid, little boys.” Your head rolls forward and you open your eyes to look at them, a fire burning in your eyes that makes them take a step back. “Didn’t you hear the stories? Didn’t your mother tell you not to go into the woods at night?”

“She’s just- She’s just bluffing,” Douglas stutters, “She’s just trying to scare us.” He puffs his chest out in false bravado before moving closer to you, his hands coming up to tear the front of your blouse open, but he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back. Your body had grown hot to the touch, as though he had just put his hands over the hot embers of a campfire, “What trickery is this?”

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” You yank your hands free of Clint and Lucas’ magic, grabbing a handful of Douglas’ shirt, and pulling him so his body was against yours, a feral grin spreading across your face. “Smell that?” You lean in, taking a deep breath as the scent of burning fabric starts to fill the air, “Maybe you can feel it. It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I wonder if I’ll see eyes explode this time like popcorn.” You stare at him intensely, your hands glowing like magma as you start to cook him from the inside out, feeling his energy seeping out of him and into you. You let out a content sigh a the sensation, watching as his eyes go wide, his skin turning a deep red before starting to melt from his muscles and bones. He cries out in agony, trying to get away from you, to put the fire out inside of him but it was of no use, and soon he falls to the ground, his body quickly going up in flames. “Now,” you smile and turn to look at the other boys who were looking on in horror, “Who’s next?”

“You’re a monster,” Clint says, clenching his fists, “He didn’t even do anything to you! We were just playing!” He was quick to attack you, seemingly forgetting what he had just witnessed you do to his friend. You eagerly drink his energy up, your body glowing like a reactor before his body turns into barbecue. He claws at his clothes, trying to remove the flaming fabric from his body as he writhes on the ground, his screams drowning out the music of songbirds. You wonder if the woods would muffle the sound so it didn’t carry to the houses that lived along the edge of it, that the neighbors wouldn’t have their windows open to let the warm spring breeze in. Then again, if you didn’t want them to hear, you simply shouldn’t be doing what you are, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You enjoy it too much. You enjoy luring men into the woods, using their own powers to burn them alive as some sort of penance for all the women burned before you because their power was seen as a threat.

You take a few breaths to calm yourself, looking at your hands, they were turning black, tendrils creeping up your forearm and tickling your inner-elbow. This happened every time, the only evidence of your crimes. They were easy to hide though, you wore long-sleeves, and had a pair of gloves that your mother gave you to protect you from the judgmental gaze of your coven. Your mother wasn’t consciously aware of what you were doing, thinking you were just going into the woods to practice your craft, but she couldn’t deny it was suspicious that boys kept going missing whenever you did.

The remaining boys fall quickly, you wave your hands, letting out a hot blast of fire that turns their remains to ash. You knew the rain would disperse the ashes, returning them to the earth and helping to keep the forest alive, although your circle never grew back- the grass has remained dead and black for years. You were in your twenties now, and you had been doing this since you were sixteen. You do the buttons back up on your blouse then pull your sleeves down, doing the cuff buttons up so the sleeves wouldn’t go out of place. You flick your hair from your face, a smile settling on your features as you start to head back, humming to yourself once more.

As you walk, you stop occasionally to pick some flowers for your mom, making a bouquet for her. Your father wasn’t around to do this for her, not that he had done such thoughtful things when he was alive, that had always been your thing. You loved making your mom smile because it meant she wasn’t worrying about anything which had become her normal. If she wasn’t worrying about you getting in trouble, she was worrying about the coven being run out of town, and if she wasn’t worrying about that, she was worrying about taxes which only seemed to go up every year. It’s not that you couldn’t afford the taxes, she had been around for centuries, she had more than enough money to cover them, but it was still an unnecessary stress in her life that she simply did not need. If you could get away with it, you would burn the tax collector alive, maybe even roast him over a fire like you would toast a marshmallow.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A familiar voice asks, disappointment evident in her tone. “I tell them- I tell them every meeting that it isn’t you, that my daughter would never bring harm to her coven, and every time you go out and prove me wrong.”

You look up from the flowers you were examining, your features falling, “Mama… I- They attacked me,” you explain. “I was just coming here to practice, like you always want me to. And they followed me, taunting me, telling me all the horrible things they were going to do to me.” You turn your head slightly, just enough to see the open area out the corner of your eye that was a few hundred feet away by now before looking back at your mom. You try to smile, holding the sad looking bouquet out for her, “I picked you flowers. Your favorites. I know you like having fresh flowers in the house because you like when the bees-“

“Enough,” she cuts you off, “Enough,” she repeats, softer this time. She walks closer to you, a sadness on her face as she gently takes your free hand in hers- your skin was like charcoal, and still hot to the touch like the furnace in winter. Her heart aches painfully in her chest, why was her only child like this? Had she done something wrong? Those questions hurt her; how could she think so poorly of you? She loves you dearly, she would do anything for you, absolutely anything for you, why couldn’t you do this one thing for her? Her touch was soft, cooling your burning skin as she runs her fingers over it, your skin slowly turning back to your normal shade. She turns your hand over so your palm was facing her, running her finger in a circle on your palm, a small smile tugging on her lips, “Round and round the garden,” she whispers, “Went the teddy bear, one step,” she walks her finger up your forearm, healing as she goes, “two step,” another step onto your bicep, “Tickle you under there,” she says and gently tickles your underarm, a soft giggle escaping her. “You used to squeal whenever I did that to you as a toddler.”

You can’t help the quiet giggle you let out, unaware of the tears spilling from your eyes, “Mama,” you whisper back, “I’m not a little kid anymore.” She gives your arm a squeeze at that, looking pained by the reminder. You rest your hand over hers, looking remorseful immediately, “I know- I know I’m still your little girl. You still make my boo boo’s better.” You look down at your hands, they were no longer black as tar, and you could see the blue and purple of your veins on the backs of them instead of a deep red that glowed against the black. You felt a knot form in your stomach, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they, mama?” You ask her quietly, a waver in your voice. “For what I’ve done- They’re gonna burn me.”

Your mom blinks back tears but it was futile, the salty liquid running down her cheeks, “When they find out,” she replies softly, “Yes. They will.” She raises her hand to tenderly stroke your cheek, and as always, you lean into her touch. Her thumb brushes against your rosy skin, wiping away any tear that dared to fall. She didn’t know how long you would both have together, whether she could wash your hair and braid flowers into it, or whether now was the only time you two would get. “Why couldn’t you stop?”

“I can’t help it, mama, you know that,” you answer, your eyes closing as you relax into her touch. Her hands never caused the same pain and suffering that yours have, they have always healed and protected. There was never a moment where she didn’t help someone, where she turned them away when they showed up to the door pleading for her to make their sick child better. There was always a spare bed for the child or adult to recover, your mother watching over them during the night to ensure their condition didn’t worsen. You. You had always been the one to hurt, to harm, to inflict suffering and pain. Your mother, try as she might to get you to do things for the betterment of the coven such as burning the fields to return the nutrients to the earth, or helping start the bonfires for when there was a community barbecue, even trying to get you to take out the wolves that threatened the farm animals, but it never satiated you.

It wasn’t until you turned sixteen did it become a problem, but she brushed it off because you had been terribly bullied, she kept brushing it off when the first group of boys went missing. She had moved you both after that, found another coven. Six months of peace before it happened again. Every time, you would come home with blackened skin and a bouquet of flowers. She never had to worry about running out of dried flowers for her potions, the basement was full of them, your peace offerings to her. You always were so sincere in your apologies, and she believed you every time, why wouldn’t she? “They deserved it,” you add, “They were going to hurt me.”

“Not every single boy was out to hurt you, surely, sweetheart. What about Tommy? He was always so kind to you, he tutored you. You were friends.”

Tommy had been your friend two moves ago, you two had bonded over being excluded from most of the college class you were enrolled in, even the lecturer refused to acknowledge you in class. You both were good students, handing your assignments in on time and not once even asking for an extension. You thought you were just friends, you told him you only liked women, and he told you he was okay with it. You had gone over to his house one afternoon to study for an upcoming exam, the two of you were in his room on his bed reading notes when he had asked you if you’d ever kissed anyone before. The question made your skin crawl, “No,” you had answered, “I haven’t.” He got this look in his eyes at that answer, his hand had come up to turn your head to face him before he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, pocking and prodding your throat. You had frozen; your eyes wide as he assaulted you. It wasn’t until he had pulled back did the anger kick in. You don’t really remember much of what happened, only running out of the house as the fire department showed up to extinguish the flames, two of the firefighters checking over you for injuries. You had told your mother what happened, what he did, and she had brushed it off, saying it was just how it was done- nobody needed to ask for permission to kiss, it was spontaneous. You had cried in your room that night, you didn’t understand why your mom didn’t see why it was wrong of him to do that to you. She knew you liked women, why on earth would you ever want some man to kiss you?

“We- You know what he did to me, mama. He hurt me. He hurt me,” you tell her, more tears falling onto your cheeks, “He knew I didn’t like him like that. Every single one of them deserved it.” That wasn’t true, there had been a couple of groups you took out because you enjoyed the thrill of it, the screams, the feeling of power that filled your system. Even thinking about it now made you giddy, your pupils dilating as though a drug was coursing its way through your system. “You have to believe me, mama, please.”

Her hand falls from your face, “We should head back. You need a shower, and I’d like to braid your hair.” Her voice was cold, the older woman turning her back on you, not even taking the flowers from your hand. She usually hummed with you, the same song she sang to you as a child, but tonight the only sound was the owls hooting in the forest. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve, holding the flowers close to you as you follow along behind her. You hum quietly to yourself, looking up into the trees to see the glowing eyes of birds watching you. There was something comforting about them being so attentive, like they were looking out for the inhabitants that called the woods their home, even as they swoop on the mice that scamper across the leafy floor. It was the balance of things, and even as they eat the mice, they too would return to the earth and continue the cycle anew.

When you get home, your mother sits on a chair and has you sit on the floor between her legs as she starts to braid your hair, her fingers working deftly. She carefully takes the dried flowers and works them into your hair, willing the protection to keep you safe when the leaders come knocking. Only now does she hum, the strands of gold that hold the flowers in place starting to glow. She new deep down this day would come, that moving towns, cities, states would only get you so far because the tales that were told about a witch of destruction would catch up to you, that one coven was going to be smart enough to figure things out and realize it is one of their own. “You’ve always had such beautiful hair,” she murmurs, adding another flower to the braid and tying it into place, “Ever since you left my body, you had a mop of hair on your head. Whenever you woke in the morning, your hair was all over the place, and it would take so much water to tame it.”

“I’ve seen the photos,” you reply with a giggle, your eyes closed as you relax, enjoying the calming sensation of your mom braiding your hair. There had been times she had yelled at you for not brushing your hair, threatening to cut it all off if you didn’t want to take care of it. She had always apologized afterwards though, blaming her anger on something that had been said in a coven meeting as she carefully brushed the knots and tangles from your hair. “How long do we have?”

Your mother doesn’t look up from your hair, the wards she had set around the house were starting to crumble, only meant to slow them down, “Not long, my dear,” she picks the hairtie up and ties the braid off, securing a crystal in with it. “There,” she says, running her hand lightly over her work before you turn to look at her, your eyes holding the light of a thousand flames, “My beautiful girl. If you survive, you know you must never return.” Her hand caresses your cheek, her eyes held the river of life which you always loved looking into because you could feel the cool refreshing water wash over you, keeping you calm.

“I can’t leave you behind, mama. I can’t- I promised you that I would look after you,” you rest your hand over hers, they were the perfect balance. It always made you laugh how whenever her hands were cold, yours were burning hot, and on the rare occasion hers were warm, yours were colder than the glacier high in the mountains. You didn’t want to leave her behind, she would be an outcast unless she participated in your execution which she was unlikely to do because despite everything you have put her through, she still loves you and you knew there was nothing stronger than a mother’s love. “I can’t go without you.”

“You have to, sweetheart. You must find your own path, in a coven that will understand you,” she pulls back from you when the front door flies open, standing up she calls out to them. “She’s in here!”  She looks at you, pain visible in her eyes, “She killed them! I saw it with my own eyes. No daughter of mine shall harm our coven.”

You felt your spirit break, unable to realize she was doing this for a reason, to keep herself safe, to keep you safe from seeing her harmed. “Mama-“ You start, struggling against the witches as they bind you with their magic, “Mama, please,” you beg, “Please don’t let them do this to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do it, mama.” The women haul you to your feet, the magic tightening around your wrists behind your back, cutting off the circulation to your hands.

“I saw the look in your eyes, Yn. You enjoyed it.” She follows the other women out of the house, the path to the stake lined with other members of the coven holding burning torches. “I’ll bind her to the stake,” your mother tells the women, “To make up for what I have done. I have let this coven down too many times before, I won’t let it happen again.” Her magic felt different this time as it wraps itself around you, your hands pulled taut behind the stake, the cold no longer soothing, instead it felt icy, the frost burning your skin. She couldn’t look you in the eyes, she didn’t want you to see how much this was hurting her, and she didn’t want to see how betrayed you looked as she prepared to watch her daughter burn.

“I never thought I’d see the day, Theodora,” the elder-witch comments, “Preparing to burn your own flesh and blood after so long of defending her. Had this evening turned out differently, you would be on that stake along with her, there is no doubt about that.” She gestures for the others to surround you, a group of six women all part of the higher counsel, and every single one of them deeming you guilty. There was no room in their coven for someone like you, someone so dangerous, someone without remorse. Were they unbiased in their judgement? Four of them were not, all having lost a son to you. The other two had daughters, but even they feared that one day your hatred would spread to women. Although whenever their daughters had caught a glimpse of you, their cheeks turned as red as a rose, and a carefree giggle escaped them which they thought was arguably worse. “Get into position, Theodora. It’s time.”

“Mama please,” you beg, “Please. I didn’t mean to. I can’t control it. Please.” You look at her, desperate for her to believe you one last time, “Please, mama. Tell them. Tell them that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t mean to. That they hurt me too.”

Your mother wanted to stroke your cheek one last time, to wipe your tears away but she couldn’t do that, not anymore. She breathes you in, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo you used before stepping down from the platform and joining the other women encircling you. “I should have let you burn the first time,” is all she says.

The elder-witch gives a nod, everyone raising their hands in preparation, “Begin!” She commands, their powers shooting out of their hands and hitting you full force, a pained scream tearing itself from your throat. It felt like your insides were being roasted, your skin prickling from the heat. It was agony, you had never felt anything like this before and you wanted it to stop.

“Please!” You scream, your head falling back against the stake, “Stop! I can’t-“ You could feel that familiar sensation starting to build in your stomach, and it wouldn’t be long until it broke free. “Mama- Mama run!” Your face was wet with tears, your head tipping forward, your eyes making contact with your mom’s. She couldn’t run, you both knew this, but you hoped this last time she would break the rules for you. The binding around your wrist starts falter, the women behind you noticing it.

“Elder- Her bindings! She’s going to break free!” One of them exclaims yet she does not stop her attack on you, none of them do because they hoped that if they continued, you would finally burn.

The elder-witch encourages them to push through it, “She is glowing! We are close! Keep going!” Your mother knew what was about to happen, finally she meets your eyes, mouthing an apology to you before the blast happens, all the women letting out agonizing screams as the fall to the ground ablaze. You slump somewhat against the wooden stake, your hair blowing in the draft created from the fires, your skin flush a deep red and your hands glowing brighter than the sun. You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t mean to, you begged for them not to do this. You warned them you couldn’t control it. You were going to wallow in that feeling until you remembered your mother. You look around frantically, counting the bodies: seven. Your mother-

“Mama-“ You jump down from the pedestal and rush over to where she had last been, sinking to your knees as you desperately try and put out the flames. She was unrecognizable, her skin blackened and burned. “Mama, I’m sorry,” you sob, cradling her burnt body close to you. She was the only person to look out for you, the only one to have stood by your side, and you had repaid her by killing her. Your tears drip from your chin and onto her corpse, the tears evaporating before they even touch her skin. You look down at her, “I’m sorry.”

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Can I ask for a gn! Yuu that has very long hair like atleast that's touch the ground?

No need to do the request do ill wait and

P.s. I love your monster au❤❤❤

Awww, thank you! If I had to say, I think my Monster!AU is my most popular AU so far 😂 It’s just so much fun, and while I love doing the worldbuilding, the wholesome silliness and found family vibes just always get me ;;v;;

Anyway, you most certainly can! I couldn’t help but get flashbacks to my high school years when my best friend would call me Rapunzel because of how long my hair was…and the sheer panic and horror she felt when I came to school one day after getting a haircut and my hair was up to my jaw. Don’t worry, it grew back! I’ve only had it cut that short once, but never again. :V It took three years to get it back down my spine. >.>

So while you asked for a gn!Yuu with long hair (and I’m assuming it’s in Monster!AU), you didn’t necessarily specify any scenario, so I hope you enjoy the random silliness based on my experiences with critters and long hair! >w<

////

When Yuu was finally able to get out of the ceremonial robes and into more comfortable clothes on the first night in Ramshackle, it came as quite a shock to Grim and the ghosts when they unwrapped their hair to the point the tips touched the ground. Given how dirty it was, however, Yuu had to quickly tie up their hair to keep it away from the dust.

“Where did you put all that?!” Grim asked, patting a paw against their hair as they tried to run their fingers through the long strands. “Why is it so long?!”

“Because I wanted it to be long?” Yuu replied with a shrug.

“Oh…do all humans have long hair?”

Despite being a chaotic gremlin in the beginning, Grim is more curious about the length and texture of Yuu’s hair than anything. At some point he realizes just how warm it is and will often be found practically wrapped up in it, snoozing away and just enjoying the comforting scent of their shampoo.

And then there were the monster students.

Hair is not a foreign concept by any means to these monsters, though the fact that there was someone who had hair this long? It reminded so many of those who knew the story of the Sun Kingdom and the princess with long hair who used incantations on a golden flower to bring her lover back from the dead!

“…your hair doesn’t glow, does it?” Ace asked, bouncing Yuu’s hair in his hands as he held it up to see it in the light.

“If it starts glowing, feel free to freak out, because I sure will!”

An issue that they came across, however, was how often the long strands got caught underfoot by monsters near them. More than once did their head jerk back because someone happened to step on it, whether they were trying to stand up or move to another spot. It happened more than once to the point Yuu’s neck started to hurt from the frequency. Such things didn’t go unnoticed by a certain unicorn…

“Honestly, you’re going to ruin your hair and your posture if you keep letting it drag on the floor like a mop,” Vil scolded them, the unicorn’s lion-like tail swishing in agitation as he worked through the newly formed knots.

“I can just put it up in a ponytail or a bun,” Yuu told him. “It’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not! If you’re going to keep your hair this long, then at least do something more presentable and functional to keep it healthy and strong.”

So began the long process of Yuu having to sit through lessons on hair care from Vil. They watched as he worked in the mirror to fashion their hair into new styles, referencing videos he’d watched online and resources for hair that closely fit their own to ensure he knows how to care for and teach Yuu. They listened as he instructed them on how to braid or twist their hair into styles they never even considered, and before long they were walking out of Pomefiore with hair care samples and a long, thick braid that hung at the back of their knees. It was a little heavier than they were used to, but not unmanageable.

It certainly made it easier to dance and run after their friends when a certain gremlin chimera got up to mischief!

When Cheka comes to visit, Yuu can’t help but notice how much he acted like a kitten that they just…couldn’t help but let him play with their hair. It was adorable to watch at first, but—like all things in Twisted Wonderland—something inevitably goes wrong.

“How did he get tangled up in your hair this badly??” Jack asked as he tried to figure out how to unravel the giggling child from their hair.

“Ow…Cheka was just so cute playing, and I only looked away for a second,” Yuu said, their hands on their scalp to keep the tugging at a minimum. “I didn’t think he’d get tangled up like this!”

“Halp!” Grim cried out, squirming around Yuu’s hair as well.

“Ow ow ow ow! Grim, stop! You’re pulling on my scalp!”

“I’m starting to think that human hair is used to trap prey,” Ruggie commented with a snicker, though his fingers were still combing through and untangling the hair quicker and easier than Jack.

After all is said and done, Yuu’s hair is quite fascinating even to Cater’s Magicam followers, leading to some crazy hairstyles and designs to be created (and lots and lots of safe hair dye and hair spray to be used). If Yuu wants to use a rainbow of colors or specific ones for their hair, Vil and Professor Crewel will find ways to help do so without damaging the roots or strands with harsh dyes or bleach!

Straight? Curly? Wavy? Dreadlocks? Afros? Any style and texture of hair a human could have! Imagine the possibilities with styles and colors in a world where Yuu can literally ask someone to use magic to see how something would look! And there wouldn’t be any issue with returning it to normal because magic~!!

Kudos to those of you who are able to confidently dye your hair wonderful colors, I love seeing the hues that can be done ;;v;; I'm too chicken to do it to my own hair, so I live vicariously through seeing others do it. 😃

Anyway, that’s all I can think of off the top of my head! Hope you guys enjoy! >v<

[valkyrieofsmut]

Mk so the previous ask of mc with a kid got me thinking, what about pregger mc who’s boy friend/husband/father of the child ditched her upon finding out she was pregnant and because of being pregnant she was one of the first to get canned at her job (since from what I recall it’s unaviable to have that kind of job while carrying) when they started making cuts and with her being unable to pay rent and the ‘no kids’ policy of her apartment complex she had to move into her trailer at the boys land >:3.

Um... I’d love to answer all of this/ more exactly to the question... but I have a few problems here for understanding... That whole first part, easy to understand, got it... The part about her being one of the first to go: she was, in the story; they don’t care if you’re preggs or not, they only care about how much money they’re spending to pay you. So it definitely wouldn’t matter if she was pregnant, they don’t care, and any risk is defined as risk you took; they’re not liable (not like you could really prove much, anyway). And lastly, the “no kids” policy? ...? Where tf do you live that has that?! It’s been illegal to refuse to rent to anyone because they have kids since 1968 due to the “fair housing policy”! I! I don’t know, but if you’re living somewhere they’re telling you that, look that shit up and let them know you know. Fuck them! They can’t do that shit to you! (there is an acceptance for places classified as “retirement/ old age/ whatever tf” but she couldn’t live there because she’s not old enough, anyway.)

Other than that stuff, I see it just as a “what if MC was pregnant when she got there and asshole left her” question, so I’ll answer that.

Classic- He doesn’t even really think about it for a long while, not even when she starts showing. It literally takes until she can’t walk anywhere without having to try to catch her breath/ not being able to stand for long/ about to go into labor (aka very pregnant) until it is something that he even has to keep reminding himself, just so he doesn’t get irritated that she can’t keep up. And then when she goes into labor, it suddenly comes to him- there’s going to be a tiny human here soon! Fuck! He needs to do something, doesn’t he?! Where do humans have babies?! Right. The hospital. Ok. Panic over. He’s going to get her there right now.

Creampuff- She’s mated? Oh... her mate left... unfortunate... Humans don’t live in such a small community that they can all just stay around each other and raise their children together like they sort of did in the Underground. He’s not sure exactly how humans do it normally, but monsters all pitch in, and he’s ready to help! He likes kids! They’re so amazed at the world around them and look up to him, and are so sweet! He’s always glad to help with the little one when they get here, and until then, he’s going to make sure that she’s as comfortable as possible, almost to the point of being underfoot, like the stereotypical nosy mother in law.

Red- Eh, kid ain’t here, yet- and that means he’s got free range, since there’s no chance that he’ll knock her up! He is his same self, flirty, trying to get in her pants, just normal Red! And then she starts showing. And he spends lots of time watching her baby belly. Any time anyone ever even curses around her, he yells at them, completely missing the hypocrisy. “what th’ fuck ya sayin’ shit like that ‘n front a the kid fer?! shut yer yap!” The more she shows, the more he’s by her side and doesn’t want to leave. More invitations for nights of just cuddles than orgasm relief start coming. He... likes touching her belly... and imagining that it’s his kid in there... don’t fuckin’ tell anyone! He really is a family kinda guy when it gets down to it, and he’s going to be one of the first to offer to help with the kid, and not in the helpful friend kind of way that Creampuff is. He’d... “uh... like ta have one wit ya, too... whadda ya say, sweetheart?”

Edge- It does not affect him, until it does. When she starts to get cranky and irritable from being pregnant, he’ll be wary of her, but he’ll also seek her out at times, because he knows that yelling and arguing helps when you feel so aggravated. Yep, he’s actually trying to help (Y/n) relieve some stress when he's arguing with her. His brother isn’t around to do it, and- ... he... can’t bring himself... to offer that kind of stress relief after being the cause of a lot of her irritation for so long... He hopes that she’ll be able and/ or willing to move past that after the baby is born. When she goes into labor, he seems completely cold and in control, belittling those around him for being stupid as usual- but inside he’s really freaking out. When the baby is born, he’ll be walked in on holding the baby, looking parental, maybe... almost... maternal...? Breath a word of it to anyone, and you’ll be regretting your own birth...

Blue- He’s smarter, and more mature, than people give him credit for! And that’s going to show itself in the way he fights with Red while trying to get her “nest” ready. He always “just happens” to find things that would look great in the lodge! And some of the ladies at work were talking, one’s niece was going to have a baby, too! And he heard that you need to have this specific type of thing when you’re having a baby! And he just happened to see it while he was at the store, and thought he’d save her the trouble of having to get it later when she’s all achy and sore! Spoiler, he’s actually joined some mom groups and has started asking the ladies at work about when they’d had their kids and is doing a lot of research. He wants to make sure she’s as prepared as she can possibly be! And... all the while, he’s going to be working himself into her life so that after the baby is born, it’ll just be natural for him to be around! And then he’ll just- stay there... in her life... and it’ll already be like they’re mated by the time he actually asks her.

Stretch- He’s not phased by it- until she gets to about the third trimester and is really showing. He hangs out around the lodge a lot, “just happen to be workin’ in the lab a lot lately.” He’s pretty chill, hanging in the background, but he’s, y’know... keepin’ a socket out for her... incase she needs anything, or anything happens... humans are fragile, after all, and that’s a complicated stage to be at... He’s not going to be in the foreground helping, like some of the Papyri, and he’s not going to be doing things behind the scenes, like some of the Sanses, he’s actually the one worried that he’ll break the kid, despite knowing, scientifically, that he won’t. He’s doing what he can to make sure the baby’s doing well and is taken care of, though- even if it is mostly by “casually” mentioning to Blue that something needs to be done or gotten- his bro is better at that stuff, anyway.

Black- He doesn't quite notice at first- not that he doesn't know, just that whole "out of sight, out of mind" thing. So he doesn't really take it into consideration, after all, she's a human; she'd know her limits when pregnant better than he would, wouldn't she? He starts doing research to see if there's something he should look out for and finds so many troubling things! Humans die from this?! They could be hospitalized?! They could lose the baby if something as small as that happens?! Yep... he's fallen into webMD... He's now going to make Mutt do everything for her while he keeps her by his side to stop her from getting hurt.

Mutt- It doesn't really matter to him. The kid isn't there, yet, so it sounds like the perfect time to be trying to get her to keep her pants (and the rest of her clothes) off and stay in bed with him all day, every day. If he does manage to get her in bed (or she gets the pregnancy hornys and takes him up on his open offer), he's not pulling out. All his magic is going inside of her. He thinks it's so fucking sexy, until he realizes that he's poured all his magic into her and... possibly her kid... um... oh... And now the kid is also his. Whether he was there to start the kid or not (obviously not, since she was already pregnant when they met), his magic is all over the kid, and he wouldn't be surprised if the kid turns out to be a mage.

Axe- When he first sees her, he doesn't know, or care. It really doesn't affect him other than being a bonus tastey treat inside... When he gets to know her, and she starts to show, it changes. There are two responses to pregnancy in the Underground; the fear of having another mouth to feed, of losing them before you even name them, due to the famine- but, before everything went to hell, pregnancy meant hope. It meant future... And with plenty of food around- it reminds Axe of that. He will begin stockpiling food, it will be everywhere. He will come make (Y/n) eat, even if he has to come ask her to make a meal for him, and then slowly trick her into eating most of it. She’s going to gain a lot of weight if she’s not careful.

Crooks/ Bun- He jumps on that the moment he finds out, even if she's not showing. He uses it as a reason not to hurt or eat her when reasoning with Axe, he holds her forth as a symbol of hope and future. He still becomes her best Bun! But he's also like the one who goes to all the classes and everything with her, Lamaze classes, shopping for everything she could need... He is there for her. And also... maybe... mother henning her a bit- but only in the good ways!

Dusty- It really doesn't cross his mind at all, until there is visible evidence; she starts showing. And then he's pretty weirded out that there's a baby- an itty bitty human, growing inside her. He keeps a wary eye on her, and especially after she delivers. He’s very nervous about what havoc this little one could wreak! ... but then... he realizes that... with this one starting out brand new, without any pre taught awfulness... he could teach it- he could train it how to be good... and then he has a little bit of hope...

Ask Masterlist?

[the-sloth-woman]

First Lines- tag game

I was tagged by the lovely @mythicamagic thank you so much~!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!)

See if there are any patterns.

Choose your favorite opening lines.

Then tag 10 authors!

Miguel was not unaccustomed to traveling long distances by carriage. (Life After Life)

The silvery clang of metal against metal resonated across the greenhouse. (I Knew You As the Moon Rose)

Lilly’s strongest memories from living with her mother were shrouded in silence. (Pillow Talk)

Reiji Sakamaki was nothing short of an elegant man. (Shared Passion) 

As a child, Alrick always thought his father knew a little something about everything. (Chastity)

Lilly had never been to a pumpkin patch before, and she did not know what exactly to expect. (The Perfect Pumpkin)

“Don’t put your hair up in a bun, you look like terrible,” Alrick said. (Chapter One:Lilly)

The leaves crunched underfoot as you walked through the forest at a safe distance. (Heartthrob)

Alrick wasn’t sure what first woke him.  He thought it was the sunlight that filtered in through the gap between his thick curtains.(French Girls)

Lilly awoke some time later, tangled up in her sheets. (Afterglow)

“This tastes nothing like pumpkin pie.” (Pumpkin Spice)

You sat with your back against the headboard, Kanato’s head in your lap. (Sweet Surrender, this is my most liked fic) 

Lilly walked down the hallway, her lunchbox clutched to her chest.  (Spring Sweets)

The May sun beat down on Megumi’s shoulders. (Cleaned Up)

Alrick closed the door to the penthouse with a resolute click. (Losing You (One Last Tryst))

Lucifer stood before her, a grim expression on his face. (Prideful Favor)

Lilly kicked the shop door open with the bottom of her boot.   It swung in on rusty hinges, raining dirt on the already grimy floor. (WIP: Forced Marriage au Chapter One: Persephone)

This is a murder about you.  You had never thought about being thrust in the middle of a murder before, but there’s a first time for everything. (WIP: The Rosenfeld Manor Murders)

Alrick was not unaccustomed to the feeling of being summoned. (WIP: Summoning Fic)

The Titanic was the largest ship Lilly had ever seen. She was not alone in this respect, it was said to be the largest ship in the entire world. (WIP: Taking on the Titanic)

So I’m actually kind of pissed after making this list >.> Not just because I start the vast majority of my fics in the same style (Name was doing/thinking something) but because I have so many damn unpublished wips. I only used four of them for this activity, but they’re some of my all time favorite works! I wrote like 30 freaking pages of The Rosenfeld Manor Murders, why did I stop? The Forced Marriage Au is 53??? I feel like I write a bunch and then never show the writing to anyone and then it just dies.  I’m thiiiiiiss close to posting my wips.

Anyway!  I tag: @misensen   @blood-follows and anyone else who wants to do it~!  Also, if you’re a fanfic author and you want someone to read your work either before/after publishing then you can always send it to me! It might take me a while to read with school, but supporting other authors is really important to me and if anyone is out there in need of support then I wanna lend it.

[lumassen]

Suomen Tasavalta

Unlike most other Nations, Finland chooses to live alone and limit his contact with humans and his people. Despite appearing cheerful and happy, Finn struggles with his immortality more than others might think.

----

Cross posted from AO3. Includes lyrics from "Who wants to live forever" by Queen.

Words: 1,930

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There's no time for us,

There's no place for us,

It was too warm inside his cabin, and Finland felt a bead of sweat roll down the nape of his neck beneath his hair. He knew that he'd got carried away and put one too many logs on the fire that flickered away in the grate, but with no central heating in his house Finland always preferred it to be too warm than too cold. He couldn't help but smile a little though as his gaze fell upon Kukkamuna, his little fluffy companion, as she lay softly snoring out on the rug in front of the fireplace. He sat down on the couch to pull on his wellington boots and stuff his corduroy trousers into the tops. Beneath him, the red leather chesterfield was cracked and worn.

Like so many other things in his cabin, Finland hadn't changed, updated or replaced the couch since 1917 and instead just kept accumulating modernities as and when he needed them. His TV that he eventually treated himself to back in 2006 stood on an antique cabinet that he bought at a woodwork market when he first became independent and moved into this house, and the old refrigerator hummed loudly from the kitchen, the same one he’d always had. It would occasionally leak puddles of water all over the floor, but Finland made do, happy to mop up the water rather than replace the fridge. To him, not much time had passed at all, and the 1930's style fridge and all of his belongings were still relatively new in his eyes.

Tearing his gaze from the fire before he could get lost in thought, Finland stood up, turning his attention to the window to notice that the snow had stopped and the darkened sky was lifting as the clouds cleared.

It was mid December, and little over a week ago a new Prime Minister had been elected by the people of Finland. He eyed the letter on the side table that had arrived the day before last inviting him to meet with her, the edge of it torn accidentally from where he'd struggled to open the envelope with trembling hands.

What is this thing that builds our dreams,

Yet slips away from us?

Unlike the rest of the Nordics and majority of the other nations, Finland had lived in the same house all his independent life, far away from civilisation with no contact with humans apart from his government. He preferred it this way. Denmark teased, calling him a hermit, but he laughed it off, and Sweden always offered him a key to his house every time he moved into a new one, but Finland didn’t want it. He was happy enough by himself.

Happy, cheerful, Finland. That was him.

The cold air rushed in from outside, swirling around him in the entrance way like an old friend as he opened the door and looked out. A fresh layer of snow covered the ground beyond his porch, and had he not known that the lake was at the bottom of the hill it would be easy to overlook; now frozen over and covered in the same layer of snow. It would remain that way until the thaw. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Finland found comfort in the way that the sharpness of the cold air stung his nostrils and filled his lungs.

After all he had seen and experienced, there wasn’t much in life that unnerved or scared him, yet when Finland had tried on his formal suit last night before he went to bed to make sure that it still fit and looked back at himself in the mirror he felt the dread building in the pit of his stomach. It hadn’t gone away, and instead had been building ever since, his insides churning to the point that he hadn’t been able to stomach breakfast this morning. Tomorrow he was to meet with the Prime Minister and stand before them as they shook his hand awkwardly, regarding him with either an expression of fear, apprehension or unease; sometimes even all three at once.

He didn’t blame them though, no matter how much it hurt him. He knew that it was strange for them to find out that the country that they had just become head of had a personification. Someone that wasn’t quite human, yet wasn't like anything else. Unexplainable, yet real. Living and breathing but unable to die, walking the earth for eternity.

Who wants to live forever?

Who wants to live forever?

Closing the door behind him, Finland stepped out onto the porch, the wind sending a chill up his spine as it found any hole or gap in his clothing to slip through as he made his way down the three steps at the front of his cabin and listened to the snow crunch beneath him as he sank his feet into it. Quiet. Tranquil. Only the sound of his own shuddered breathing that came out and danced in clouds around him, a visual reminder of the life within him.

Balling his fists, Finland took a step forward, then another, then another, until he broke into a run, his feet burying into the snow before he came to a halt, teetering at the very edge of the lake.

"Miksi!? Minä vitun tätä!!" (Why? I fucking hate this!)

Finland's voice echoed over the lake as he screwed his eyes shut and shouted from the top of his lungs, causing a flock of birds in a nearby birch tree to take to the wing, startled. He watched them through tear filled eyes as they flew to the other side of the lake before settling back down into the trees again.

"Miksi olen täällä? Mikä minun tarkoituseni on?" (Why am I here? What is my purpose?)

This time his voice was little more than a whisper as he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at the crescent shaped grooves that his fingernails had left in the skin on the palms of his hands from clenching his fists so tightly.

There's no chance for us.

It's all decided for us.

This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.

He thought back to that moment in 1917 and could see himself as he looked out at the lake. His younger self was staring back at him as though he were a ghost, an apparition. He'd never felt as alive as he had then as he turned his back on Russia and finally led his people home to his land. To the Republic of Finland.

That had been the last time he'd interacted with them, choosing to live out his life as a free country with just the other nations for company. Sometimes he wondered if it were a mistake, but if the look on his previous Prime Ministers face when they had been introduced for the first time was anything to go by then he stood by his decision. He was a freak, born from the snow and evergreen, his first waking moments spent alone and cold with no idea why he existed or where he came from.

Who wants to live forever?

Who dares to love forever?

Oh, when love must die?

A branch snapped underfoot behind him, and Finland spun around on the spot, swinging his rifle around from where it was slung over his back to aim it in the direction of the disturbance and closed one eye to look down the barrel.

“I’ve already been shot by ya once before and don’t plan to be shot again, so put that thing down. It’s just me.”

Sweden was standing in the clearing just in front of where the trees stopped at the edge of the lake with his hands raised in surrender, yet there was a smirk on his face. Lowering the rifle, Finland flicked the safety on and slowly slipped it to rest across his back once more.

“Ruotsi?”

Taking a tiny step forward, Finland squinted as if it could be anyone but Sweden before him, the bottom of his unmistakable long navy coat dusted with a thin layer of powdered snow from where he’d walked through it.

“Suomi.” he said, stopping in front of him.

It had been a couple months since Finland had seen Sweden, let alone interacted with anyone but Kukkamuna for that matter. He noticed Sweden had cut his hair.

“What are you doing here?” Finland couldn’t help but narrow his eyes as he asked the question, wondering if they had plans that he’d forgotten about.

There was a small silence between them as Sweden reached out and hesitantly brought his hand to Finland’s face. At first he flinched at the touch, but Sweden’s hands were always warm, just as he remembered them as he ran his thumb over the stubble that had grown across his jaw.

“I know you gotta big day tomorrow, and that you don’t like humans.”

If it were anyone else, Finland would have felt the urge to defend himself and explain that he loved the humans and his people. Deep down he did, they were the reason that there was life in his veins, but they made him uneasy and Sweden knew this better than anyone.

“It’s not that I don’t like them, Roo,” he pressed as Sweden let his hand drop back down by his side, “because I do. I don’t mind being around them when they think I’m one of them, but tomorrow…”

Finland dropped his gaze to his hands as they fiddled with the small hole at the hem of his sweater from where he’d been meaning to mend it for the past 20 years.

“Wait, didja come all this way just for me? You’re not here on business?” he looked up again as the realisation hit him, and Sweden just nodded with a faint smile.

But touch my tears with your lips,

Touch my world with your fingertips,

“No, I just thought it had been a while since I saw a birch tree. I heard the best can be found here.” Sweden said as he knocked his knuckles against the trunk of the birch to his left and looked up into its branches wistfully before his eyes slid to look at Finland from behind his glasses, a playful expression on his face and Finland felt his jaw slacken.

“Course I came here for ya.”

Finland let out a laugh as his face crumpled and he wiped his nose that had started to run as a result of the cold on his sleeve, drying away the few tears that threatened to fall at the same time and hoped that Sweden hadn’t noticed them.

“You tried your suit on?” Sweden asked, his voice a little gentler now as he took a step closer to Finland. Finland nodded with a sniffle, feeling his stomach lurch as the thought of having to stand in a stuffy room tomorrow in a three piece suit, lily of the valley in his breast pocket, hair tamed and combed back just as his officials thought it should be.

“Then let's not think about it again until tomorrow mornin’.”

Draping an arm heavy around Finland’s shoulders, Sweden stooped and pressed the softest of kisses to the top of Finland’s head, clearly unfazed by the fact that he hadn’t washed his hair in three days.

“Kiitos, Ruotsi.” (Thank you, Sweden.)

“Ole hyvä, Suomi.” (You’re welcome, Finland.)

And we can have forever,

And we can love forever,

Forever is our today.

[justjessame]

Home Sweet Home Chapter 4

I could hear the lyrical sound of Aria’s giggles ringing from the kitchen as I came down the stairs barely twenty minutes after Harvey had taken her downstairs to get breakfast started.  The scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingled with the sweeter fragrance of maple syrup warned me of a sticky welcome waiting for me in the form of French toast and a happier toddler.  

Sure enough, she was in her booster seat with what I felt certain was her second piece of perfectly made, just messy enough breakfast bordering on dessert with a far jollier disposition than what she left me with upstairs.  

“Mama, look,” she waved her fork, holding a piece of her toast and I bit my lip, hoping that she’d stabbed it tight enough to keep it in place until she got it to her mouth.  Either my prayer, or her will to keep every piece for herself was strong, because it made it to its proper end and her grin was infectious.  

Smiling, I moved closer and leaned over to rub my nose against hers, pleased to see it was still free of sugar and goop.  “You’re gonna be so hyper and ready to play with Grandma,” I murmured, pulling back as Harvey’s body molded into mine to helpfully place my plate on the table beside Aria’s before he joined his two girls.  “I’m sure Daddy wanted to make sure you two had so much fun, that’s why he picked French toast.”  Our eyes met over our little girl’s head and his were twinkling with the mischievousness that told me I was correct.  “I’m surprised you didn’t think to add powdered sugar for an extra kick,” shaking my head I took a sip from my juice before skipping the syrup and adding just a bit of butter to my slice.  

“Considered it,” Harvey admitted, making me giggle.  “Thought it might be pushing it just a bit.”  His nose crinkled and that did it, the giggle grew and Aria, not quite sure what was so damn funny went with it and joined my laughter.  

Breakfast with the three of us wasn’t all that rare, but after what Harvey had dealt with in Chicago, we lingered a bit longer.  I lingered longer, needing the reassurance that we were still alright.  That he was real and fine.  That Aria’s daddy and my husband was - I didn’t really understand why it took this particular case to force me to face the reality of what Harvey actually did for a living, for a calling, but it was a harsh dose. 

When we heard my mom’s voice calling out, Aria had forgotten that she was sad that Grandma was coming to visit.  She forgot that Grandma coming meant less time alone with Daddy.  She clapped and was nearly as excited about her visiting as she had been about the big ‘monee’.  

The same could not be said of Harvey.  “Here we go -” his eyes closed, as if he were mentally preparing for the worst, or praying for strength and I sighed.

“There you are,” Mom said, coming into the kitchen with a grin, her eyes focused on Aria.  “There’s Grandma’s little peacock.”  She held out her arms and Aria held up her own as Mom clucked her tongue.  “I see SOMEONE thought starting out the day with copious amounts of sugar would be the best way to jump start tiny little minds.  Guess you and I are starting OUR day with a bath, Aria.”  Mom shook her head and smiled down at me once she got our little one settled in her arms.  “Today’s a regular schedule, isn’t it Everlea?”  I nodded, suddenly thinking that MAYBE Harvey was right.  “That color really looks lovely on you, sweetheart.”  I was about to remind her that Harvey was RIGHT THERE, but then she sniffed.  “I suppose that YOU are going to be underfoot today?”  She barely glanced at him, but a shift of her eyes included my husband in the conversation.  “After that mess you all made of Chicago yesterday, I’d have thought YOUR people would be on hand to clean it up.  Isn’t that what you brag about doing?  Cleaning CRAP up?”  

My eyes widened, how had I missed this?  It wasn’t even that hard to see.  Dear God.  I glanced at Harvey and his eyes were on me in a clear message of ‘told you so’.  “I get to paper push today, Evelyn.” He was being polite, and short.  “As soon as I’m done, you can head on out and me and MY girl can have Daddy and mini me time.”  

“Mimi Me time!” Aria picked up the thread and ran with it, forcing Mom’s eyebrows to try to meet in the middle.  Shit.  

“Chicago was a poo-show,” Mom was adamant that we NOT curse around Aria, and she was the poster woman for it.  Little did she know, Aria might be a parrot about most things, but we’d managed to figure out the code for how to keep her from NOT repeating THOSE words.  “Surely you’ll be up to your poo colored eyeballs in paper pushing to clean it up.”  

I was watching them lob verbal hits back and forth, because Harvey had a comeback locked and ready for her.  “Why, Evelyn, I didn’t know you paid attention to the color of my eyes.  I’m flattered.”  That damn dimple of his coming out even as he followed up with more on the likelihood of work taking all day.  “As for the paperwork?  How hard is it to write ‘big animals wrecked city, fix it, now’?  I’m not a genius, but even I can type that over and over.”  

It was like a tennis match of words, and I was in the middle of it, but my eyes managed to make a detour to the clock and I knew I had to go.  Standing up, which forced a time out, I kissed Aria first.  Telling her to be good for Grandma, let Daddy work - which got a smirk from Mom - and then I turned to Harvey.  The look in his eyes made me want to shake my head, but seeing that he was right, my mom really did have a grudge against him, for some reason had me react in a completely different way.

Instead of a nice, staid, we’ve-been-married-for-long-enough-to-be-comfortable type of goodbye kiss - I stepped up to him and when our lips met the same passion flared up that had in the shower, or the bathtub, or our bed.  If my mother wanted to freak out because Harvey had helped me create our daughter.  The same little girl she was holding and who she couldn’t spoil enough, I’d like to add.  Then this kiss would sear into her brain that the love and passion that went into making Aria still burned bright and wasn’t ending any time soon.  

“Honestly,” Mom muttered, when we finally broke apart, but our eyes were still locked on one another.  “Do you think that’s appropriate for Aria to see?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I promised Harvey, ignoring my mother for a beat.  “We’ll continue THIS -”

The rough skin of Harvey’s thumbpad brushed the skin under my eye.  “I’m holding you to that.”  He looked like I felt like parting today felt wrong and was harder than it ever had been.  “I love you.”  

“Love you, too.”  With a sigh, I pulled away to face Mom who had let Aria down.  I guess her arms got tired.  “Yes, Mom, it’s appropriate for Aria to see that her parents love one another.  There is NOTHING wrong with a child seeing displays of affection. It’s not like we were having sex.”

Mom sniffed at me, as if our kiss - which was admittedly bordering on a makeout session in the kitchen - was far greater than a display of affection.  “You’re going to be late, Ever.”  

“It’s MY office, Mom.”  I was moving toward the door anyway.  “Thank you for coming over,” I kissed her on the cheek as I passed her.  “Be nice to him?  Please?”  

“No promises, Everlea Grace.”  Her tone wasn’t nearly as stern though, so I had hope that I’d come home to a house still standing and my family intact.

The best part about leaving my position as the attending physician in the emergency room and starting up my own practice wasn’t just that it was less stress or the shorter hours.  It was the small group of people I’d brought together to create a clinic that felt warm and comforting, while also managing to give our patients the confidence in our expertise.  

I was thankful that the day went as smoothly as I expected from a regular day, no surprises, no upheaval to my routine.  As I hung up my stethoscope after my final patient was on her way out the door, having gotten her next appointment scheduled and I double checked that I’d sent her prescriptions through to her pharmacy, I was debating whether I should call home to see if I was walking into a disaster area or if Mom and Harvey had called a truce.

“Everlea?”  I’d been grabbing my bag and keys from my office when my receptionist, Kendra, ducked her head through the door.  Looking up, she took it as an opening to continue.  “Harvey called while you were with Mrs. Callahan.”  I waited, hoping it was something benign, and not a call telling me he was off to make another shitty bed.  “He wanted me to ask you to pick up a bottle of wine, whatever your mom prefers?”  She shrugged her shoulder and I nodded.

“Thanks, Kendra.”  I pulled my bag across my chest.  “I think Mark is still in Exam 3 with Mr. Randolph -”

She grinned at me.  “Yeah, it’s his monthly, so it’ll take a while to get through the list.”  Mr. Randolph did like to be thorough when he had his monthly visit.  “Don’t worry, Everlea, we’ll lock up.”

“I know you will,” I assured her.  “I just wanted to make sure I remembered.”  Shaking my head, I thought how long the past twenty-four hours seemed.  

“Hey,” my eyes met hers.  “Harvey’s practically indestructible, Everlea, and he’s home, right?”  

I sighed.  “I know, I know.”  Moving toward the door, Kendra moved with me, following behind so she could lock the entrance behind me so no one wandered in after hours.  Letting Mr. Randolph out was nothing compared to telling someone we weren’t a walk-in clinic.  “I can’t seem to shake it this time.”  

“Well,” Kendra took her time before she spoke, obviously thinking about my predicament.  “I guess, if you think about it, it was bound to happen eventually.  I mean, the stress has to compound to the point that it gets too heavy at some point, right?”  

Another sigh and I nodded.  “I guess, but I really wish it hadn’t.”  

Kendra was chuckling as I crossed over to outside.  “No one wants that kind of stress, but you and Harvey will figure it out -”

“We always do,” I supplied, my smile returning, thinking about how that was Harvey’s line.

[ghost--facers]

S01E02 - Wendigo (Part Five)

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back! Wow, it has only been like two years! Hahaha. I finally found Supernatural again and I started binging and I just couldn’t get writing out of my head! So here it is: part five of the second episode of the Series One (Wendigo) imagine series I’m doing where I rewrite the reader into Supernatural. Feedback is appreciated and if you want to be tagged in the next part please let me know! I hope you like it x

Characters: Dean (eventual Dean x reader), Sam, Hailey (+ other characters from the episode)

Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 2695

Description: The reader continues to hunt the Wendigo with the Winchester Brothers.

----

Episode One

Wendigo : Part One    Part Two    Part Three   Part Four

----

“Alright. Listen up!” Sam begun, nudging past you as he walked into the centre of th

After making makeshift bombs for around 30 minutes, which would’ve probably taken less time if Dean hadn’t had to teach Haley how to do it several times, you began to move away from camp. You had managed to control your nerves, for now anyway, and had only grabbed onto Dean’s jacket once but as a sign of affection. The patience he had with Hailey was incredible and you couldn’t help but smile when he kept looking over and rolling his eyes a little. You shouldn’t really smile at that, but it made you feel a little special that you were able to do it and she couldn’t… although you kept thinking that maybe you should have pretended to not understand how to make a homemade bomb so he could spend more time with you.

“Don’t you fucking dare start liking him, [y/n].” You mumbled to yourself.

“What?” Sam spoke, turning around to face you. He had clearly heard you mumble… hopefully not any exact words otherwise he’d be able to predict immediately. 

“Oh, nothing. Just humming a song.” You lied, before jogging up so you could walk next to him. Hailey and her brother were all in front of you and you were all following Dean who was leading the way.

“This is tiring.” You smiled, trying to make the whole situation, which was becoming eerie, more lighthearted. No one responded, but you heard a few scoffs from some of them. You were hoping one of them was from Dean.

___

“Are we setting up camp soon or like….?” You asked, bending down a little.

You had been walking for quite a while now and you could tell because it was hard to see. The sun had gone to bed and everything was one hundred times more creepy. The leaves seemed to crunch underfoot at a higher volume and the wind whistled through the trees like it was the last time it could and it was making the most of it. You hated it. But you couldn’t turn back.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, causing you to stand back up and look over. 

Sam had taken over as lead a while ago but Dean didn’t join you at the back, unfortunately, and you couldn’t catch up with him because you weren’t fast enough.

“What is it?” You heard him reply, and ran over to sit next to him. You were nosy and wanted to know what was happening. Plus, you really didn’t want to be at the back anymore… it was getting too creepy.

“Shit.” Your murmured, looking around all the trees that each had a massive claw mark ripped into it which were covered in blood.

Sam then pushed you and Dean to the side, but quite unexpectedly so you freaked out a little bit but calmed down when you noticed who it was.

“You know, I was thinking that those claw prints are so clear and distinct… they were almost too easy to follow.” He whispered.

“Like… it’s a trap?” You answered, swivelling around to face both of them.

They didn’t have time to answer, as a growl surrounded all your ears and you whipped around in all possible angles to check if something was there. You hadn’t noticed you had backed up, trying to get closer to Dean, until you hit him.

“Sorry.” You muttered, still frantically looking around.

“Don’t be.” He replied, before grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze before releasing. 

It had only been for a second, but your heart couldn’t take it and your nervous stomach, that was making you feel ill, got overtaken by butterflies who were making you motion sick.

You looked at Dean who was searching around, for a shadow that had flittered past, and you felt comfortable in his presence; even if you were being chased by a Wendigo. 

However, your uncomfortableness soon reared its ugly head again as you heard a loud scream erupt from Hailey and a loud thud followed. 

You turned around quickly, searching around for Hailey, who was now sprawled across the floor, and directly next to her was a body. The butterflies had left, replaced again with pure dread, as you and Sam ran up to her to ask if she was okay.

As Sam lifted her from the ground, you turned your attention back towards Dean who was leaning over the body. It was Roy. The sickness rose. You didn’t like the man, but he didn’t deserve the fate he met.

“His neck is broken.” Dean softly spoke, drawing his attention to the forest canopy.

The snarls continued, growing louder, destroying the time for mourning.

“Okay, run, run! Go, go, go, go!” Dean screamed, giving you no time to think as he pushed you forward.

You were thankful for this though, your brain had given up. It wasn’t used to seeing all the death and pain that people had to endure. 

You, like everyone else, ran forward, not worrying about if your legs would suddenly collapse. Although you felt like they would. You heard someone’s legs actually do this, but didn’t turn around. You knew you would feel guilty about it later, but right now you were just focused on running. 

A little too fast though, as you suddenly crashed into someone or something. 

Your head burned and your body stung in every possible place. And then it went black. 

___

“Dean? Sam?” You whispered hoarsely. Your eyes began to burn as you opened, dust settling over the lids. “Dean? Sam?”

You couldn’t help but cry out as you saw the decrepit place you were being held. The rope bore into your skin, the dry air attacking your lungs. Where were you? What had happened? A low growl murmured through the underground pathway. Tears escaped your eyes, you were locked up, abandoned. You could even be dead, you didn’t know.

“Guys please.” You could only manage a whisper as you floated back into unconsciousness. 

___

“[Y/N], it’s okay sweetheart, we got you.”

You looked up at Dean smiling down at you. While the sky was a beautiful bright blue with not a single cloud in sight, you could only focus on the beauty put before you. Dean smiled down at you, a sense of concern glazing over his eyes. What a perfect moment it was, just you and Dean. Even if you had just fallen flat on the floor...

You closed your eyes, a smile plastered on your face - this moment could never be beaten. You slipped your hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm and the tightness of his grip. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was sliming down at you, but you opened your eyes nonetheless.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean assured, holding onto your waist, gripping you tight.

When your eyes opened you thought you’d see the young, bright face of an eighteen-year-old Dean, so fresh and full of life. What was actually looking down at you was the dirty, stern face of a much older Dean that had clearly been to the depths of Hell and back.

Tears streamed down as you recalled your situation, being close to death tied up underground by a Supernatural being. A Supernatural being you didn’t even know existed until yesterday. Mostly you were crying because you’d been found, and Dean was holding you tight as you went through this terrifying experience.

“My knight in shining armour.” You scoffed as he untied your wrists, allowing blood to flood to them again. “At least I know I’ve always got you to save me.”

Dean dropped the rope to the floor and grabbed your waist once again, looking down at your intently. You felt yourself blush as you looked back up at him. Hopefully, the dirt caked across your face would hide it. 

“Always, [Y/N].” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of your forehead. “Always.”

“Guys, come on,” Sam muttered, breaking the moment. It didn’t do anything to stop the swirling in your stomach though. “Let’s go find, Tommy.”

You spent a couple minutes adjusting to the environment, grabbing onto Dean for support, before you felt stable enough to pick up the pace and walk yourself. You trapsed through the underground corridors with Sam, Dean, Haley, and her brother by your side and soon enough you came across another body hanging and limp.

“No.” Haley gasped running towards the lifeless body in front of us. 

She grabbed hold of him, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. You couldn’t look, you couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling. You lowered your head, suppressing tears of your own.

A sudden gasp brought your attention back to Tommy. He was awake. Breathing. Alive! The joy on Haley’s face was unimaginable, and everyone began clamouring toward him.

“Cut him down,” Haley spoke, holding onto her brother's face. 

You moved toward his and helped Sam with cutting the rope holding Tommy’s legs, lowering him to the ground, and removing the bindings on his feet.

“It’s okay. We’re gonna get you home.” Haley spoke as a smile of relief broke across Tommy’s face.

You looked at his face once more before glancing over at Dean. He was rummaging through some bags and pulled out two objects which looked like guns. A few weeks ago that would’ve surprised you but your facial expression now didn’t change.

“Check it out!” Dean spoke as he waved the guns, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Flare guns. Those will work.” Sam responded, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Let’s get going then.” You smiled back at Sam before looking over at Dean. You thought you saw him wink at you but maybe you were wrong… it was dark after all.

____

You began walking through the corridors once more, eyes alert for any movement. You were scared, you couldn’t deny it, but there was no way a Wendigo was gonna defeat you.

I’m not dying in a fucking cave, you thought to yourself, and even if I did, I’ll go down fighting.

“Looks like someone’s home for supper.” Dean scoffed, as a low rumble ran down the cave.

“We’ll never outrun it!” Haley exclaimed. For a girl who's just been through so much, her face was plagued with steely determination. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean asked Sam, with them exchanging glances between them. You knew at some point you’d be privy to their physic plans too and you couldn’t wait.

“I think so.” He responded, hiking up the flair even higher.

“Alright, listen to me. Stay with Sam. He’s gonna get you out of here.” Dean turned facing all of you.

“What are you gonna do?” Haley’s concern grew.

“Dean, you can’t face that thing alone.” You whispered, a tremor becoming more apparent.

He just looked at you, winked again, and ran out into another lane.

“He’s a fucking idiot.” You sighed as he screams out “It’s chow time, you freaking bastard”.

He continued screaming as you stayed by Sam’s side. You knew he was more than capable but it didn’t hurt any less and your mind couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he failed.

“All right, come on. Hurry!” Sam shouted, urging you guys to move into a different area. For once in your life, you were obedient and followed him.

You continued through the tunnel, hearing the growl of the beast rising. 

“Get out of here,” Sam spoke, nodding towards the exit of the cave.

“No!’ Haley replied.

“Come on.” You spoke. It hurt your heart to leave Sam but you knew they had a plan and that they’d be able to survive. They had to survive. “He’ll be fine, let’s go.”

Haley looked at you and you felt a sense of admiration from her as you looked back. You managed a weak smile as you lead them out of the cave and into the brightness.

You wished it was as easy as that but the Wendigo appeared from nowhere. The sound of its growls was deafening and it unnerved you to hear him chasing after you.

It’ll all be okay, you spoke to yourself as you listened to both the growls and the screams attacking you from all sides.

“Get behind me!” Sam spoke, as he covered you all with his width. You looked as the Wendigo closed in on you. 

Well, I guess I am dying in a cave you muttered shutting your eyes tight. What even was your life right now?

You opened your eyes to face your killer and its gargantuan frame glared back. The off-grey skin covered in sparse white hairs seemed only fitting for this crooked nose monster. It was horrific, everything about it. But you stared. There was no way you weren’t facing it in your last moments.

“Hey!” Dean screamed, causing it to turn around only to be greeted with flare. It burned inside of it, melting it to the ground as it cried out in agony. In the end, there was nothing left, just a heap of flames on the ground.

“Not bad, huh?” Dean smiled, plaguing the rest of you with a smile too.

“Not bad at all.” You grinned shaking your head at him.

____

You were sat at the steps on the information cabin at the Ridge, staring off into space. You’d just spoken to the local police about the 900-pound grizzly you’d faced that had terrorised your camp and killed a member of your group. It was complete shit, but as if the police force would actually believe you.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, saddling up beside you. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be. You’ve saved my life twice now.” You smirked up at him. “Whatever can I do to repay my knight in shining armour?”

“I could think of a few things.” He smirked back as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Truly though, I am sorry.” He spoke, placing an arm around you. “I didn’t mean to be a dick and I hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I forgive you.” You replied, leaning into him. “Oh, and I heard what you called out when I ran to get Roy.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” You replied, blushing.

“Mhmm. You’re cute.” He laughed, although it came out as a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear.

A smile swarmed across your face.

You wanted to say more. About how much it meant to you to be back with them, how much you loved being around him, and what you actually felt about him, even if you didn’t know what it fully was yet. But you couldn’t, so you just closed your eyes, snuggled into him more and felt his arm tighten around you.

____

You watched Haley and her brother drive away in the back of an Ambulance with Tommy. You were perched in between Sam and Dean with a police blanket wrapped around you.

“Man, I hate camping,” Dean muttered, as you all watched the vehicle drive away. “Me too,” Sam replied.

“Me fucking three.” You sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter, the boys laughing as you did so.

“Hey, Sam, you know we’re going to find Dad right?” Dean spoke after listening to multiple sighs coming from Sam’s direction.

“Yeah, I know.” He responded. “But in the meantime, I’m driving.”

“Ooohh, this just got good.” You laughed. “Shotgun!”

“Wait, not fair.” Dean protested.

“Sorry Dean, but she did call shotgun.”

Dean fished into his pocket, producing the keys before throwing them over to Sam. He looked so heartbroken.

“Poor baby.” You said as you ruffled his hair and clamoured into the passenger seat.

You could see the worry radiating off of him as he got into the very back of the Impala and stretched his legs over the seat.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” He tried to convince himself, closing his eyes as he did so.

You saw your window of opportunity and moved the blanket off you and draped it over him as he lied down.

“Goodnight little baby.” You whispered, hearing Sam laugh and Dean trying to cover his own amusement.

----

Tags: @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @jules12345678910 @anolympianhero @cra-zy-vib-es1999 @sherlock44 @for-a-brothers-love @puppies-make-me-extra-happy @dean-is-my-favorite @a-little-bit-of-everythin @dean-is-a-cutie @be-with-me-for-evermore @tbk28 @haveyoumetmeyet @that-was-scary @in-deans-arms @it-could-go-off @dean-is-my-superhero @kgbrenner @kingkenzieo @the-angels-stole-the-tardis @shizzybarnaclee @mellowlandrunaway2 @captainjacklynmarie

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!)

[xivu-arath]

a tess and whirl fic for @rorykillmore! this was meant to be a gift fic but then life happened and I couldn’t write for most of the year,,, I’ve been picking at it in bits since then, because what I’d gotten done had been good and this is a rp dynamic I’m still very fond of, so I wanted to give them a good, shared reunion!

In this moment, as much as he’s ever wanted anything, he wants to seem cool and put together and... not quite the bot she remembers from that other, messed up Earth.

“What do you think, Whirl?” Cyclonus asks, in his slow and brooding way. Typical Cyclonus – there’s Meaning there. They trail behind Tailgate for a moment, and Cyclonus shoots him a stern look, one that would pin lesser bots (and ones that didn’t know he was such a softy) in their tracks.

Whirl tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Eh?”

Ahead of them, the official is still droning on about building layouts and regulations, so Whirl feels pretty safe in ignoring him completely. Between being guided by someone who clearly thinks that as robots, they have to enjoy precise and exacting details and the tension itching under his plating, he hasn’t exactly been trying to pay attention. If Cyclonus and Tailgate guess that he’s struggling to not make terrible and impulsive decisions, they don’t say anything about it, and Tailgate’s more than happy to play tourist anyways. After all the fuss about this Cybertronian sanctuary on a figuratively new Earth, it only makes sense to actually go and check it out, but something about it makes Whirl twitchy.

Well, not something. He’s got a pretty good idea of what it is, and he’s not exactly up for talking about his feelings today, not with these two. There’s a balance here and it’s precious and important – more important than his problems. He’s not going to disrupt it just for the sake of being less sharp-edged and jittery.

Sure, there are no fights to pick and no people to antagonize (unless he goes looking for Megatron, and he’s not that desperate just yet) but he’s had practice being the nice Autobot who doesn’t blow people up for looking at him wrong, lately. He can handle a few days of... this.

This being what so many Cybertronians would be eager for. A place they can call their own – kind of – without all the messes and scars of what they’ve done – sort of – and a lot of people paying attention in case someone snaps and starts making superweapons or trying to cyberform the planet. It’s a place for ‘bots that have nowhere else, with just scorched ground behind them. In theory, it’s great.

“Whirl,” Cyclonus says again, and he pulls ahead a little, to make up for being caught thinking.

“I mean... it’s nice, in a settle down and retire kind of way. It makes sense, you two starting to feel your age,” he chirps, trying to get in a dig before they really think something’s up. “But settling down, playing nice... it’s just not me, you know? Anyways, I bet they don’t even allow–” He casts around for something more interesting than the humourless agents overseeing the sanctuary’s opening, just in case there’s something he can deflect to – or better yet, distract Tailgate with, which would in turn distract Cyclonus, a tactic that’s as useful as it is absolutely sweet – and his optic passes over a small group of humans following yet another agent, adorably small against the Cybertronian-sized hallway.

Is that...? He stops walking completely and Cyclonus takes a few steps only to turn back with a quiet grunt. Whirl ignores him, optic narrowing as he leans forward. The sharp current of not belonging here stays, an itch at the back of his spark, but it’s now sharing room with something else, just as prickly but much brighter.

“Is there a problem?” he hears their guide say, stiff and careful, and Tailgate adds another question but it might as well have been static for all he’s listening by now. Without quite meaning to, he moves, transforming to rush towards the group and then drop back to the ground. He hooks a claw onto the wall as he lands, partly to steady such a fast transition and partly for style points.

Most of the group stumbles back, leaving Tess standing alone, looking up at him with open, obvious surprise.

In this moment, as much as he’s ever wanted anything, he wants to seem cool and put together and... not quite the bot she remembers from that other, messed up Earth. Not that it’ll matter. She’s always been a bit too good at seeing through that kind of mask.

“Well, I never!” he sings out. “It is you.”

“Whirl?”

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

The DEO agent, after complaining extensively about how he has a job to do and things are chaotic enough without Cybertronians going off-course to have sudden reunions – Whirl doesn’t bother telling him that he should wait to see what Cybertronian reunions are like! – does show them to a cozy little lounge.

Tess looks about as composed as someone can be when shorter than all the furniture surrounding her. Even the way she stands there, head up and arms folded, is familiar, sparking all sorts of fond feelings of relief and delight that Whirl would really much rather ignore. He doesn’t know what to do with them, after all.

Less fond is the way Cyclonus is frowning sternly at her, but he frowns sternly at everything, so that’s okay.

“So,” he says. “The two of you knew each other when you were both trapped in this alternate Earth.”

“That’s right.” She pauses, eyeing him and Tailgate – who’s perched on a minibot sized chair, and is just a little over her head. “Which you both seem to be taking pretty well.”

“It’s not that different from everything else we’ve been through, honestly,” Tailgate says, ticking off on his fingers. “How many alternate things have we visited by now? There was that quantum jump, that terrible Functionist Cybertron, Swearth of course....”

“...Should I even ask?”

“Best don’t,” Whirl tells her, taking some weird pride in how quickly Tess’s expression changes to bemused weariness. Even compared to... rift-Earth, the Lost Light and the trouble it found will always be something else. “It takes even longer to explain Swearth than the others, and we’d need months at least to go into the actual quest.” Which seems less appealing by the second. That trip to the past, that horrific what-if of Cybertron, all the Matrix stuff... it cuts too close to the spark. Best not to get into it.

“What little of it there was,” Cyclonus says, all grumbling scorn, and returns to glowering into the wall behind her.

It’s Tess’s turn to eye him, raising an eyebrow. “And the two of you are also part of the crew –”

“We’re his friends!” Tailgate breaks in, and Whirl hurriedly looks away, but not before he catches surprise flickering across her face again.

“A Cybertronian refuge without the shadow of the war or its factions, holds some interest for us.” He’s not looking but he can feel Cyclonus’s gaze on him now, and his plating bristles up defensively. So yeah, he has friends and they spend all their time being up in his business. It’s hardly fair. “Whirl was... keeping us company.”

“Because I owe them for a few dozen rescues, back on the Lost Light,” he says airily, waving a claw. “And besides, I like playing the annoying third wheel.”

“Of course,” Tess says, lips tugging into a faint smile. “It’s... a pleasure to meet you both, regardless.”

“You too!” Tailgate says, optics brightening, and then slides off of his seat. “Why don’t we let you two catch up? We can keep looking around – you can comm us when you’re done.”

It only takes a few more polite pleasantries (and one open threat to tear up the room) before they walk off hand in hand and Whirl’s left to fiddle with his claws, sneaking looks down at Tess and suddenly out of anything to say. Should he ask how she’s been? But that’s so polite, and then she’ll know he’s feeling weird about this, and ughhhh.

Happy reunions aren’t supposed to happen to him. He doesn’t know how to deal with them.

It’s virtually impossible for him to be quiet for too long, though, so he seizes on the first thing he can think of. “So! You’re still doing the whole corporate empire thing? Going to take over the world, capitalist-style?”

Tess grimaces at him – admittedly a carefully restrained one – and with that he feels a little less overwhelmed. “Yes, exactly,” she says, voice dry. “LuthorCorp might become a sponsor for the sanctuary, actually. I’m here on an introductory tour.” She pauses, probably mulling something over. “I first considered it because of you, actually.”

“Don’t just say things like that! I’ll start to think you actually care.” It’s... sweet that she thought of him, but he has to at least make some effort to push it aside.

For all that it’s been so long – years for both of them, he’d guess – she catches on all the same. “And we can’t have that,” she replies, sardonic without missing a beat. It drains back out of her voice just as quickly. “It is good to see you, Whirl. And it’s good to see that... things have changed.” He tilts his head, optic narrowing in surprise, and Tess doesn’t bother to mince words. “You used to tell me that most of the crew wanted you dead.”

He had, hadn’t he? And he’d been right, then.

“They did! Right up until... some of them didn’t. They changed their minds without even consulting me about it.”

She smiles, the expression distant. “I think I might know the feeling.”

That’s all the sincere reconnecting he can take, and he leans forward, doing that obnoxious looming thing that freaks out anyone underfoot. Not Tess, of course. She’d become immune to it after a month of knowing him. “Well, I’m not going to stay, but at least now it was worth dragging my aft out here –”

“You won’t?” Her expression is so openly surprised and troubled that he lets her interrupt, and his vocalizer stutters. Not good. He needs to find something outrageous to say, fast.

“As if a ‘bot like me deserves to end up here,” he says, meaning it in several ways and knowing she’ll catch all of them.

Tess frowns up at him, not quite sad and not quite stern. It’s the kind of look that just sits wrong, like it shouldn’t be directed at him in the first place. “Will Cyclonus and Tailgate be staying here?”

“They like it,” he mutters, optic narrowing. “I don’t know. Maybe. For a while.”

She lets that hang in the air for a second, so at least he can brace himself before she starts briskly hitting him with facts. “They seemed happy enough to have you with them. Even as a... dedicated third wheel.”

“You met them for ten minutes.” Whirl doesn’t bother trying to stifle the synthetic whine in his voice. Let him sound annoyed and plaintive. Maybe it’ll get this over with faster.

“They admitted to being your friends in that time,” she reminds him, and there’s nothing he can say to that. Sure, he’s nearly killed them before, and they’ll probably risk it again trying to do friendly things like helping with his problems, and that’s just... life, now! Like the war being truly over, or Megatron developing a sense of guilt, just another thing that feels like exposed circuitry sparking up when he’s least expecting it.

Whirl pinches his claws together and rocks his weight back, folding up like one of those Earth birds that’s all legs and neck and beak.

“You know,” Tess says, suddenly thoughtful in a way that sounds like the leadup to a terrible idea, “I’m sure if there were Cybertronians causing trouble regularly and LutherCorp did become a sponsor, I’d have to pay a visit. To make sure our views align with that of the sanctuary and its image, of course.” Her smile is tucked away and downright conspiratorial. “Just something to think about.”

“That’s a bribe!” he says, delighted and flattered. “Tess Mercer, bribing me to hang out on Earth. Imagine that.”

“I’m a lot busier, nowadays. I had to make sure we have some way of catching up.” She hesitates. “And to give you another reason that might be... easier.”

Whirl’s had enough experience now with the whole people not wanting him to go and die to not say or do anything stupid in response, but it’s a close thing. He still has to reset his vocalizer a few times and clear it with a big buzz of static before he can trust his voice to sound anywhere close to how he wants it to.

“Well, if you’re going to go to all the trouble of making business decisions just so I can piss people off for a few months... sure, count me in.” He crouches down and leans in close, his optic hovering only a bit above her head. “And you know, we might be doing this whole peace and healing thing now, but if you ever need anyone stepped on or shot up....” It’s probably half a joke.

Maybe.

“I’ll know where to find you,” she says, unconcerned and unflappable because it’s Tess.

They shake on it like it’s a proper deal, her hand wrapped around the very tip of one claw. By the time Cyclonus and Tailgate wander back in – late as usual, the saps – the stinging ache of not being right is just a little closer to an echo.

It’s enough, for now.

[starryknight09]

Whatever It Takes Ch. 17/18

Summary:  Peter’s struggling to cope after the loss of Mr. Stark. Everyone keeps telling him it’ll get better and that he needs to move on, but Peter doesn’t want to. He can’t envision a life without his mentor. So when an idea comes to him, he doesn’t hesitate, no matter how crazy it is. He’s going to get Mr. Stark back.

“What exactly are we going to do?” Ned asked.

“Whatever it takes.” Peter answered.

Read on AO3.

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“And we have amazing news this morning, although you might’ve already heard it since it’s all anyone has been talking about ever since Pepper Potts—”

“Pepper Stark.” Tony mumbled the correction to himself as he sat on the couch, coffee in hand, watching the network newsperson speak.

“—CEO of Stark Industries, revealed in a press conference last night that Tony Stark is in fact alive.  It bears repeating, so let me repeat it.  Tony Stark, Ironman, the hero who orchestrated the return of all those who had been dusted, myself included, and subsequently prevented the world’s destruction—”

“The universe’s.” Tony corrected again.  They really needed to check their facts.

“—is miraculously alive today after the world has spent the last seven months believing he was dead.  As revealed at the press conference last night, Tony Stark had in fact been in a coma in Wakanda, thought unlikely to recover, until those assumptions were proven incorrect last week.  Mr. Stark has in fact awoken and is currently at home recovering here in New York.  No word yet on if or when he will be addressing the public.  But I’m sure I speak for all of us here in New York and around the globe when I say, thank you Mr. Stark from the bottom of our hearts.”

Tony’s lip twisted in a part smile, part grimace.  He always hated being thanked for things, especially when it was something he actually deserved to be thanked for.  And he knew he should be thinking about when he was going to return to the public eye and give his own press conference, because he’d have to eventually, but right now all he could think about, could worry about, was his kid.

Peter had been making progress in therapy, at least according to his therapist.  The kid himself remained completely mum when it came to the subject.  He never talked to Tony about what they discussed in therapy even when Tony tried to gently prod.  And even though he thought it might help the kid to share with him, he respected Peter’s wishes and his privacy.  Well, Tony respected his privacy as much as he could, given that the therapist shared information with him and then he, in turn, shared it with May. He wasn’t quite sure if Peter knew that part or if he thought May and Tony were completely out of the loop, but he didn’t want to risk the possibility of rocking the boat to find out.

Tony sighed and checked his watch.  It was almost ten in the morning.  He glanced over his shoulder down the empty hallway.  No sign of Peter.  Tony was surprised he was still asleep.   Pepper and Morgan had left hours ago, although they didn’t have to leave as early as they used to when they’d been commuting from the lake house. That was one thing Morgan loved about their new penthouse apartment.  No long car rides.  But it was one of only a few things.  Leaving the solitude of the countryside had been a rougher adjustment for her than he and Pepper had anticipated, but they were making progress.  Tony, for one, loved the new digs.  He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed living in the city until he was back.

And they had found the perfect place.  The location was ideal and the layout was nearly a mirror image of their old penthouse at the top of Stark Tower except homier and sans bar. Peter had spent his first fifteen minutes in the apartment staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the city. Tony had almost forgotten that Peter had never been to the Tower before it’d been sold, and even though the compound had a nice view of nature, it was nothing compared to this.  

The change in location had done nothing to stop Peter’s nightmares though.  Whether at the lake house last week or here in the penthouse this week, Tony had spent every night in Peter’s room, comforting him from nightmares.  He liked to think maybe they were getting less severe, but he was probably deluding himself.  Still, Peter had to be doing somewhat better since his therapist had given him the ok to re-start school on Monday.  Which meant Tony had five more full days with his kid.  And he planned to take advantage of them.  If his kid would ever wake up…

“Hey Tony.” Peter’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Speak of the devil.

“Hey kid.” He said back, craning his head around so he could see him.  Peter still had his pajamas on and his hair was sleep mussed, but he looked well rested for once.  Good.

“You hungry?” Tony asked as he turned off the TV and stood, planning to make his kid breakfast or lunch or whatever he wanted.

“Yeah but I just want some cereal.” Peter flashed him a smile.

“You sure?  I can whip something up or we can order something.  Whatever sounds good.”

“Cereal sounds good.” Peter said as he grabbed a box of Lucky Charms out of the pantry.

“You know there’s more sugar than nutrition in that, right?” Tony pointed to the box as he sat back down on the couch.

“Tastes better than the old man cereal you eat.” Peter said, pouring half the box into a mixing bowl.

“Hey who are you calling old?  And oatmeal squares are not old man cereal.”

“Next thing you know you’ll be eating Grape Nuts.”

“What’s wrong with Grapes Nuts?”

“Oh god!  You’re hopeless.” Peter said dramatically with a grin as he finished pouring milk over his cereal.

“Hmm, maybe, but keep it up and I’m going to buy only Grape Nuts from now on.” Tony teased.

“I have four words for you.” Peter glared.  “Cruel and unusual punishment.”

“I prefer to call it creative.” Tony smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes as he crossed the distance between them and plopped down on the couch at Tony’s side.

“What were you watching?” Peter asked around a mouth full of cereal, nodding toward the now black TV screen.

“News drivel.”

“Anything good?”

“They’re celebrating the fact that reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.”

Peter huffed out a laugh.  “That’s right.  Pepper told everyone you’re alive last night.”

“She did.” Tony nodded and watched with a smirk as Peter continued to eat his cereal from the ridiculously oversized bowl in his lap.

“So…” Peter frowned and paused to finish chewing. “What’s the cover story again?”

“Um something about being in a coma in Wakanda that I somehow miraculously woke up from.  Or whatever. I don’t know.” Tony waved a hand.

“Shouldn’t you probably know the details?” Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“I will when I have to.  I’m sure I’ll have to do a press conference at some point, but since I’m still recovering,” Tony sank back further into the couch, “I get a temporary stay of execution.  No public appearances for me in the near future.”

“I think it’ll probably be sooner than you think if Pepper has any say.” Peter joked.

“Maybe.” Tony scrunched his nose.  “She did say something this morning about needing to get me out of the house because I was starting to get underfoot.  But in my defense, this place is a little more cramped than the lake house.”

Peter snorted.

“Hopefully she’ll be happier now that I finally got all the wiring done for the downstairs workshop last night.” Tony smiled.  They not only had the entire top floor, they had the floor below it as well for Tony to use as his personal workshop, or as Pepper liked to call it, his tinker space.

“Awesome.” Peter said, smiling around a mouth full of Lucky Charms.

“Yep, so what do you say we head down there when you’re done with breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” Peter nodded and finished munching on the rest of his cereal in silence while Tony looked over a couple e-mails on his phone.

“Um actually there was something I wanted to run by you.” Peter said with a slight furrow of his brow once he swallowed his last bite.

“Ok.  Hit me.” Tony said.  He slid his phone back in his pocket and then frowned when Peter got up and started walking away toward the kitchen.

Tony automatically stood and followed.  He waited, leaning against the kitchen countertop as Peter rinsed off the spoon and bowl before putting them in the dishwasher.

Peter turned and held his hands up, keeping the kitchen island between them as he said, “Ok so hear me out.”

“I’m already sensing I’m not going to like this.” He said, raising his eyebrows.

“Tony.” Peter gave him a frustrated look that was so uncannily similar to the ones Pepper gave him that he almost laughed.  He and Pepper definitely hadn’t donated any genetic material to Peter like they had for Morgan, but they’d been parenting him all the same, and he’d been hanging around with them so much lately that it was starting to show.  He was starting to pick up some of their nuances and mannerisms.  It was freaking adorable.

“Ok I’m listening.” He said, crossing his arms but unable to hold back a smile at the love swelling in his chest at the adorableness that was Peter Parker, thinking nothing could put a hinderance on his good mood.

“I want to go out as Spiderman tonight.” Peter said in a rush.

Ok.  So almost nothing.

“No.” The denial passed his lips without a thought.  It was instant and automatic.

“Tony—” Peter started, borderline whining.

“No Peter.” He repeated, more firmly this time since it seemed like his kid actually had the audacity to argue about this.

“But—”

“You’re not allowed to go to school right now, why in the world would you think I’d let you go out as Spiderman?” Tony interrupted again, frowning.

“But Spiderman’s different than school.” Peter argued.

“It is.  It’s more dangerous.”

“I can handle it.  I just-I need the distraction.  I think it would help with…everything.”

“Like it helped last time?” He asked.  Didn’t Peter get what he was asking?

“That’s not fair.”

Tony could say a lot of things in response to that like how it also wasn’t fair to have to watch your kid almost become a pancake on the ground, but he knew that was the wrong thing to say, so he held back.  He was angry, but he didn’t want to hurt Peter.

So instead, he took a deep breath and tried a different approach.  “Why do you want to go out as Spiderman?”

He tried to ignore the hopeful expression on Peter’s face as he answered, “It helps me get out of my head.  It helps me process things.  And I feel…more alive I guess, more like myself when I’m Spiderman.  And I-I just want to feel like myself again Tony. Please.”

“The answer’s still no.” He said, shaking his head.  “Sorry.”

Anger darkened Peter’s countenance.  “Why’d you even ask if you weren’t going to change your mind?”

“Because I wanted to know.” Tony answered and the bluntness seemed to piss Peter off more.

Peter opened his mouth, probably to yell at him or spew some other deluded rationalization, but Tony held a hand up to stop him before he could.

“Listen kid.” Tony said, keeping his tone even, not letting any of his own frustration bleed in.  “I get what you’re saying.  I do. But listen.  Rule numero uno of superheroing is you don’t go out and risk your life unless you have all your ducks in a row.  That means you’re completely physically and emotionallywell.”

Peter frowned “But—”

Tony could guess what he was going to say.  Tony and every member of the Avengers had personally broken that rule numerous times, so he cut him off before he could.  He held up a finger.  “Let me finish.”

Peter stopped but with a frustrated huff.

“The only time you can break that rule is if it’s truly life or death or if there’s a real possibility of the world ending.  Do get what I’m saying?”

“But people in Queens are dying all the time.” Peter argued.  “They need Spiderman.”

“It’s not the same.” Tony shook his head.

“How is it not?” Peter asked, and Tony could tell he genuinely wanted to know, he wasn’t just trying to be difficult.

“The theoretical possibility of maybe saving one person’s life is not worth yours.” Tony explained.

Peter frowned but seemed to be thinking about Tony’s words.

“If Thanos,” Tony paused to wince, “appeared right now. I’d say, fine.  You’re in.  Because that’s an all hands on deck kind of situation.  Going out on a routine patrol as Spiderman is not the same as that.”

Peter’s face twisted, but he didn’t argue.  Tony skirted around the island and grasped Peter’s shoulders as he looked into his stormy eyes.

“Listen, there are responsibilities we take on as heroes. One of them is accepting that there are going to be things we need to risk our lives for.  Sometimes there are things bigger than us worth dying for. That’s part of the gig.” It hurt Tony to say it because he never wanted to envision his own kid in that type of situation.  “And…some things are worth that sacrifice.”

Peter paled.  No doubt he was thinking of Tony’s own sacrifice.

“But most things are not.  Patrolling as Spiderman is not.” Tony continued, not keeping the harshness out of the words.  “Risking your life when you’re not completely ok isn’t brave.  It’s stupid.  Do you understand?”

Peter nodded reluctantly.

“Good.” Tony nodded.

“When you’re not on your A game you’re not focusing as well.” Tony said, wanting to hammer the point home.  

“And all it takes is one second of distraction and just like that,” He snapped his fingers, “a knife or a bullet slips through and suddenly you’re bleeding out on the ground.”

Peter’s eyes went wide and he jerked backwards, out of Tony’s grasp.

“Pete?” Tony blinked.  He didn’t think his description had been that gruesome, not enough to garner that type of reaction.

He watched as his kid took a few staggering steps back before his feet caught together and he crashed to the ground.

“Pete!” Tony crossed the distance and knelt down beside him in an instant.  He went to grab his shoulder but his kid kept flailing his legs out to propel himself backward and out of reach, as if trying to escape some terrifying threat.

Tony didn’t think he was trying to escape him but the fear was still unsettling to witness.  Peter ran out of space a few seconds later.  His back slammed against the bottom of the kitchen cabinets, and then his head cracked against them when he tried to throw himself further away even though there was nowhere to go.  Tony winced at the sound of it.

“Jesus.” Tony mumbled and moved to Peter’s side.  He put a hand up between his kid’s skull and the cabinets in case he tried to do it again.  

“Hey Pete.  Peter. Look at me.”  He ordered, and palmed Peter’s cheek, trying to direct his gaze toward him.  It didn’t work.  Peter kept staring straight ahead, eyes wide with terror as his breaths came out in short, rapid pants.

“Oh shit.” Tony swore as he finally realized what was going on. Some type of flashback or panic attack. Maybe both.  He couldn’t believe it’d taken him so long to recognize it given his own experience with them.  He hated the thought of Peter suffering like he had, but he put that emotion on the backburner for now and focused on trying to help his kid.

When Peter didn’t seem to be at risk of cracking his head open anymore, Tony shifted so he was kneeling directly in front of him, face at eye level.  He cradled his kid’s face in his hands and spoke, keeping his tone soft and soothing, “Hey kiddo.  You’re safe. You’re here with me.  You’re not there.  You’re in New York in this awesome penthouse Pepper found us.  And I’m here with you.  Do you hear me Pete?  Peter?”

The glazed over look in Peter’s eyes slowly started to fade, and after another handful of seconds, he blinked and refocused on Tony’s face in front of him.

“Tony?” He whispered, sounding scared but hopeful at the same time.

“Yeah.” Tony gave him a wan smile.  “Are you with me?”

Peter glanced around in confusion, taking in his place on the kitchen floor, before meeting Tony’s eyes again.  “I think so?”

He looked a little more with it but his breath was still coming out in pants.

“Ok.” Tony dropped one of his hands from Peter’s cheek to grab his kid’s hand and bring to his chest.  “You’re still breathing a little fast there buddy.  Can you feel my breathing and try to match it to yours?”

Peter nodded and Tony brushed his hair back with his other hand and then left it planted at the base of his neck.

“Ok.  In…and out. Good.  Deep breath in…and out.  You got it kiddo.  Good job. In.  Out.  In. Out.” Tony coached him, ignoring the pain in his knees from the position.

“There.” Tony said once Peter’s breathing had finally gotten back to normal.  “Better?”

Peter nodded.  “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tony said seriously before asking, “Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah.  I-I kind of freaked out.”

Tony hummed.  

“This time was a lot worse than last time.”

“Last time?  What do you mean last time?  When was there a last time?” Tony frowned, unable to keep the alarm out of the questions.

“Remember that time I texted you from the bathroom at school?”

“You mean the time you said you were fine.  That was after something like this happened?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Jesus.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you mad?” Peter asked anxiously.

“No.  I’m not—” He paused to take a deep breath himself.  “I’m not mad.  I’m just…this is the kind of thing you need to tell me about.”

“I texted you.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief.

“And like I said, it wasn’t this bad.” Peter added.

“I told you I’d pick you up.”

“I didn’t need you too.”

“Peter,” Tony said with exasperation, “you had a panic attack and you stayed in school.  That’s the sort of thing you take the rest of the day off for.”

Peter’s face pinched with skepticism, which almost would’ve been cute if the topic hadn’t been so serious.  “A panic attack?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded and brushed a hand through Peter’s hair again.  “That’s what that was kid.”

Peter blinked and looked at him with wide eyes.  “How do you know?”

“Used to get them myself.”

“Really?  You did?”

“Yeah.  After New York.” He didn’t bother specifying since he knew Peter would understand what he meant.  “And then again later…after Thanos.  After losing you.”

Peter sucked in a breath of air.  “Oh.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tony gave him a tight smile and held out a hand. “But what do you say we get off the floor?”

“Ok.” Peter took his hand.

Tony grasped it and stood, pulling Peter up with him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s sit down and talk.” Tony said, guiding them back toward the couch.

“But the workshop.” Peter protested half-heartedly.

“The workshop can wait.  This is more important.”

They sat down and Tony kept an arm draped around his kid.  Peter leaned into his hold.  They’d gone from arguing to practically cuddling in the span of under ten minutes.  It was enough to give Tony emotional whiplash.

“How many of these have you had?” Tony asked quietly.

“Just the two.” Peter snorted, unamused.  “Isn’t that enough?”

Tony hummed in response, and after a few seconds of silence he asked, “Does Ruth know about the other one?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t think of it.” Peter shrugged.  “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Tony took another calming breath.  He didn’t know how his kid could have a panic attack and then label it in his mind as not a big deal even if he hadn’t known what it was at the time.

“Do you want to tell Ruth about it or should I?” Tony asked. Peter’s therapist was coming over later that afternoon.

“Um…can you do it?”

“Sure kid.  Do you know what set it off?” He asked.  He knew Ruth would want to know and he wanted to know himself.

Peter nodded against his shoulder.  “Yeah, um, it was the same thing both times.”

Tony frowned as he tried to figure out what he could’ve said or done to trigger that kind of reaction.  

Before he could ask him, Peter asked hesitantly, “Can you maybe try not to snap your fingers around me anymore?  At least for a little while?”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat and he stiffened. Peter sensed it and turned wide eyes on him.

“Um is that ok?” He asked anxiously.

“Yeah.  Of course it’s ok.” Tony answered quickly and then shook his head in frustration at himself. “Shit kid.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Peter mumbled.

But it wasn’t.  Tony should’ve thought of that, but it hadn’t even been on his radar. Probably because even though he’d watched the video playback, he hadn’t actually been the one to do it.  Other Tony had, or his later past self, or whatever.  Regardless, the last time Peter had seen him snap his fingers, he’d ended up subsequently dying from it.

“That’s what happened at school too?  Someone snapped their fingers?”

Peter nodded.  “My teacher. And I know it’s stupid.  I know it shouldn’t bother me so much, and it’s completely irrational, but when it happens it’s like everything disappears and all I can see is you.  Snapping. And…dying.”

Tony could tell just talking about it was getting Peter worked up again, so he shushed him and ran a hand down the back of his head. “It’s not stupid.”

“Sure feels like it.” Peter mumbled.

“Well it’s not.  Shit kid, after the alien thing in New York, if someone just said the word space or wormhole around me, I’d freak out.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” Tony kept running fingers through Peter’s hair.

“How’d you get better?”

“Time.  Therapy. Lots of therapy.”

Peter snorted.

“But it gets better kid.  I promise.  Hey, I ended up in space with you, and I completely held it together, remember?”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that.” Peter teased, obviously feeling better.

“Well no panic attacks at least.” At least none that the kid had seen.  There’d been a couple close calls and one definite breakdown when he’d been stuck on that ship with Nebula on their way back to Earth.

“Yeah.” Peter sighed and Tony could hear the desolation in it.

“Hey.” Tony tapped Peter’s chin with his finger.  “Chin up Underoos.  It’ll get better.  Just give it some time.”

“Seems like it’s taking forever.”

“It’s only been a couple weeks Pete.”

“Yeah weeks.” Peter complained.

Tony smiled.  “Give it a few months and then see where you’re at.  I bet how you feel now compared to how you’ll feel then will be a lot different.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

Peter sighed again but instead of continuing the conversation, he changed the subject and asked, “Can we go down to the workshop now?”

“You sure you’re feeling up to it?”

Peter nodded.

“All right.  Whatever you want kid.” Tony said as he stood.

That got a small smile out of Peter as he followed a step behind him while they walked to the elevator doors.

“I’m going to ask one more thing and then we don’t have to talk about it anymore, ok?” Tony said once they stepped into the elevator.

“Ok.” Peter agreed begrudgingly.

“Do you understand why I don’t think you’re ready to go out as Spiderman yet?” He asked, reaching over to squeeze Peter shoulder so it wouldn’t feel like he was asking to be mean spirited.

“Yeah.” Peter mumbled, staring down at the elevator floor as the doors closed behind them.

Peter mouth twisted.  “I guess it’d be pretty embarrassing if Spiderman died because he was too busy having a meltdown from some bad guy snapping his fingers to defend himself from getting shot.”

Tony’s chest clenched in fear at the visual of that exact situation before he had the wherewithal to chastise Peter.  “Hey.  Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Sorry.” Peter said, not sounding sorry at all.

Tony squeezed his shoulder again.  “Remember what I said.  It’ll get better.  Give it time. You’ll be out swinging again in no time.”

“Yeah.” Peter didn’t seem so sure.

“You will.  I promise.” Tony said and patted Peter between the shoulder blades as the elevator doors opened to the workshop.  “Now come on. You can help me with some suit upgrades I’ve been thinking about.”

“Really?” Peter asked with hopeful eyes.  He and Peter had worked together in the workshop all the time before Thanos but he’d rarely let him help with the Ironman suit.

“Yeah.” Tony said as they walked out of the elevator.

“Ok.” Peter grinned, eager excitement lighting up his face.

In that moment, he looked exactly like the old Peter that Tony remembered.  Tony smiled back.  Yeah. His kid was going to get better. He just needed a little more time and some TLC.  And Tony had plenty of both to give now.

[zenonaa]

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318629/chapters/43392422 Read from the beginning here: http://zenonaa.tumblr.com/post/183875659535/read

Comments: Day 2 for TogaFuka Week! The prompt is ‘Seasons’. This time, the gang go to a ski resort and no one dies in this chapter.

***

Autumn could be just as pretty as spring, with its rich blend of red, orange and yellow on the trees and that crunched underfoot. The world boasted leaves ablaze with colour, and while they weren’t gentle cherry blossoms, cute and pink and dainty, they had their charm, their own unique shapes, like those from a ginkgo tree or maple leaves, and if one stopped to admire them, even if just for a minute, they could appreciate their earthy beauty before winter came around again.

When the coach pulled up at the ski resort, snow blanketed the ground underneath a sky almost as white as it. Touko only realised they arrived when the chatter in the coach shifted from a bubbling mess to sharp, excited noise prone to squawks. For most of the journey, Touko had been reading quietly with her holdall travel bag on the seat next to her. Across the aisle to her was Byakuya, who had also spent a lot of the journey reading rather than conversing, holding a small black book that she couldn’t read the cover of because his hand hid most of it from view.

His fingernails were neatly shaped.

“Oh, wow!” Aoi gushed in front of Touko, pressing her face against the window. What she said next came out somewhat muffled. “It’s beautiful.”

It, in this case, referred to the stretch of mountains lining the horizon, looking creased with blue-hued shadows. Next to Aoi, Sakura Oogami smiled. With her large build, usually stern features and title of ‘Super High School Level Fighter’, as well as scars no doubt received from battle, Sakura’s smile as she followed Aoi’s gaze did not set Touko at any ease.

Fortunately, they wouldn’t be sharing a cabin. Touko had been assigned to one with the idol girl, Sayaka Maizono, and a set of twins with different surnames.

“Alright, guys!” said Chisa, standing at the front of the coach in a pink puffer jacket. She had her hands on her hips. “We’re going to check in and then you’ll receive the keys to your cabin. In two hours...”

Chisa threw an arm forward, holding up two fingers.

“... we’ll meet up in the square in the cabin village. We’re all going to try everything at least once. Other than skiing, there’s also an ice rink, and...”

Touko stared out of the window, only half-listening. She had never been skiing, and the one time she went ice skating with her class in her old high school, she had been awful, forced to hang onto the edge as she tottered around while almost everyone else skated around effortlessly. Those who couldn’t skate like Touko had friends to support them, to lead them around so they wouldn’t be left out, and every time they passed Touko, their laughter rang out loudly.

Though Touko couldn’t prove it, she thought their laughter was aimed at her.

Everyone trooped off the coach and followed Chisa to a cabin that housed the reception for checking in. After that, they split into two groups, the guys in their class going with their former homeroom teacher, a man with hay-coloured hair, a silver flask and a lopsided grin, while everyone else trailed after Chisa.

As the class diverged, Touko lingered back to watch the other group leave. Their class contained eight guys, but it may as well have had only one for all the attention she paid. One person, who sat in front of her in classes, who had golden hair and sapphire eyes, who grimaced as he followed after their former homeroom teacher.

“Come on, Fukawa-chan!” Aoi tugged on Touko’s hand, causing her to stumble.

“G-Get off me!” Touko hissed, snatching her hand back, but she fell in line with the others.

In the village, as this area was called, small cabins were affixed either side of a single continuous road, and crossing this road from the entrance led to a wide passageway that opened up to the slopes and buildings hosting various activities. The male students headed left, while the other students walked right.

“This is a cute layout,” remarked Junko Enoshima, whose surname did not match her twin, Mukuro Ikusaba. Touko didn’t know what Junko meant by calling it ‘cute’, but she didn’t care enough to ask. “You know, if I had students coming over to an island for a school trip, I’d totally lay it out like this.”

Mukuro nodded in agreement, which she usually did whenever Junko said something, even though Junko usually said something weird or stupid like that. An idiot fashion girl and her idiot soldier sister, who idolised her and obeyed every order... Touko couldn’t be surprised at their hopelessness.

Chisa handed out a key to everyone. Touko examined hers. Attached to the key was a leather strap with a number on it, corresponding with a number on one of the cabins. In this case, four.

“Meet in the centre in an hour!” Chisa reminded everyone, and their group fractured further as they retreated to their cabins.

Everyone else had to share one, but Chisa had her own to herself. She disappeared into a cabin marked with the number ‘one’ on its door sign plate. The door shut behind her.

“Meet in the centre in an hour,” mimicked Junko, making her hand mime a mouth and sounding remarkably like Chisa. An ugly snort popped out of her.

Sayaka, walking abreast with Junko, turned her head toward her and touched a hand to her cheek.

“Wow, you sounded just like her!” Sayaka said.

Junko grinned and bumped her hip playfully against Sayaka’s, holding up a peace sign with one hand.

“Thanks!” said Junko. “I’ve been practicing!”

Touko pulled a face as she walked behind her three cabin mates. Two nights. She had two nights of this to look forward to.

The cabin that Touko would be keeping her stuff and staying in for the duration of the trip had four beds made up of two bunk beds. They took up a big portion of the room, one bunk bed either side of the door, tucked up against the nearest corners to the entrance. Touko took off her winter boots so she wouldn’t track snow onto the olive green flooring. Underneath the bottom bunks was a large enough space to stow away any suitcases or bags.

“Dibs on bottom!” Junko crowed. She abandoned her suitcase by the door and threw herself onto one of the beds, landing on her front. Then she rolled onto her back and pointed at the bed above her. “Muku-Muku, you go over me!”

“Okay, Junko-chan,” said Mukuro, and she walked over, carrying a black rubbish bag that she had brought her clothes in. Seriously. She set it down and pushed it under the bed.

While those two settled in, Sayaka slapped on a polite smile and turned to Touko.

“What would you rather have? I don’t mind either way,” said Sayaka.

She said that, but that didn’t mean she was telling the truth. Deep down, she probably had a preference. Still, she had given Touko the choice, and no one forced her to do that.

As for Touko, she weighed her options. On one hand, being on the bottom bunk gave her easier access to her bag underneath the bed, but that applied to Sayaka too. Also, she couldn’t sit up properly on the bottom bunk due to how low down the bunk above started. For the other hand, she could sit up straight on the top bunk, but what if her hair draped over the edge by accident, and someone cut it for a prank?

Though, if the bed collapsed in a freak accident, Touko would squash Sayaka, and not the other way around.

“I’ll have top bunk,” said Touko.

The beds had already been made, so until they were due to meet up with the rest of the class, they just had to get ready for today’s outdoor activities and if they so desired, unpack. They were only staying for two nights, so Touko didn’t think she had to take everything out of her bag or use the wardrobe that came with the room. She got out a coat, gloves and waterproof trousers. To put the last item on, she simply slid them on as normal and then pulled her skirt down after, showing more modesty than the other three, who took their skirts off first.

“So, have you guys ever been skiing before?” asked Sayaka as she stuffed her legs into a pair of woolen tights that she would be wearing under trousers.

“Nope!” went Junko, sitting on her bed.

“I have,” said Mukuro, sat on the floor as she laced up her boots.

Sayaka turned to Touko.

“What about you, Fukawa-san?” asked Sayaka.

Touko twitched and spluttered, “O-Of course not!”

“What do you mean of course not?” said Junko, her face puckered in a squint, and Touko squirmed under their accusatory stares which Touko totally didn’t just interpret them as being.

“You... You just want me to admit that I didn’t have friends to take me,” grumbled Touko. “And... s-stop talking to me in your underwear.”

Junko stood up and strutted over to Touko. She bent over and wiggled her shoulders. “Why, are these two distracting you?”

Heat rose to Touko’s face and she slapped her hands over her eyes. Touko heard Junko laugh and peeked out between her fingers just in time to see Junko straighten up.

“Maybe it’s not going to be so dull sharing a cabin with you after all,” mused Junko with a smirk. Nearby, Sayaka shot Touko a sympathetic look that Touko didn’t ask for, and Touko hardened the icy barrier around herself and grabbed a notebook from her bag to write in.

Less than an hour later, everyone gathered in the centre of the village as instructed, and though Touko wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of spending much of the day outside, to the best of the knowledge, skiing was a solo activity, so she would get a break from her pesky cabin mates even if she had to risk ruining her body with exercise to achieve this. She was a writer, not a muscle maniac like Aoi and Sakura. A swimmer and a fighter... what a tiring combination. No wonder they became best friends so quickly, but friends would inevitably fall out over a guy, or something, so it probably wouldn’t last long.

Friendships always fell apart somehow, or what was thought to be a friendship turned out to be a farce.

“Alright, everyone!” Chisa called out. The class continued nattering.  She turned to Kiyotaka, who was standing next to her.

“CAN I HAVE EVERYONE’S ATTENTION?” he shouted. His voice rumbled, and everyone looked at him. He wore a scruffy waterproof jacket and well-worn jogging bottoms. Not the image one would expect from a student attending Hope’s Peak.

Mondo Oowada pushed aside his earmuffs, stuck a finger in his ear and made a screwing motion. Due to the ridiculous size of his pompadour, he couldn’t fit a hat on his head.

“Geez, are you trying to start an avalanche or something?” asked Mondo.

Kiyotaka covered his mouth, like he believed that he could do that. Junko laughed loudly.

“So what’s up, Harry Hand-me-down?” she said, eyes twinkling, smile showing teeth.

Her question made Kiyotaka’s gaze sink to his feet, and he didn’t reply. Most of the class shot dirty looks at her. Mukuro winced.

Chisa was one of those who glanced reproachfully at Junko, but presumably not wanting to draw more attention to it in front of everyone, she beamed and held her hands together. “Thank you, Ishimaru-kun. Okay, class, I want everyone to buddy up for this. Everyone into pairs, please!”

Touko’s insides twisted, and she felt an ache all the way up to her throat. Chisa clapped twice and might as well have sentenced her to death. Forcing them into groups of two was bad enough, but unlike when they were assigned cabins, Chisa gave them the responsibility of forming these pairings by themselves.

Everyone around Touko drifted over to someone else, while Touko picked at her fingers. At previous schools, when this happened, either her teacher noticed or she would have to tell them that she didn’t have a group, and then she would either be put into a group by the teacher or offered the chance to work by herself. When possible, Touko opted for the latter.

In any case, going up to the teacher was a humiliating experience. One time, when her class went bowling, no one wanted Touko in their group, and she had to join her teachers.

She breathed shakily, as much as she could with her cramping chest, and she tried to will herself to embarrass herself in front of everyone by showing how she was a friendless loser. Sooner or later, she would have to.

“Ah, Fukawa-san!” Chisa pointed at her. “You can go together with Togami-kun.”

The tension in Touko intensified for a moment, and she felt a swooping sensation like she had missed a step on a staircase by accident, but as Touko turned to the other person Chisa named, the tension began dissolving.

Byakuya stood away from everyone else, much like her. He had his arms folded over his chest. Initially, he didn’t react, but after several seconds crawled by, he shifted his head, just a little, in acknowledgement.

“Is everyone paired up?” Chisa left a beat, counting everyone. “Excellent. Okay, everyone. Follow me.”

She gestured for them to follow.

They walked through the cabin village to a building where they all lined up to obtain skis and poles. Touko stood by Byakuya, and as they waited to reach the front of the line, she snuck a few looks at him. Each time, he wasn’t paying attention to her, his eyes trained forward, so she allowed her glances to last progressively longer. He barely moved, as if a marble statue painstakingly carved to perfection. Even the furrow in his brow, an undesirable wrinkle on most, added to his seriousness, deliberate but not unwelcome on his features.

“Someone of your upper echelon must have been skiing before,” said Touko.

Small talk. She never did small talk.

“A few times,” he said, still not looking at her.

Touko nodded and fidgeted again.

After everyone had been given their equipment, they made their way to the ski lifts, shuffling along in their skis. Their footsteps had crunched against the snow, and the skis were no different. The skis squeezed Touko’s boots, and she hadn’t totally got used to it by the time she sat down on the lift. Each seat could accommodate two people, and as they had all paired up prior, they sat with the same person.

Her heart thumped in her chest, and she could feel it in her head too as she and Byakuya slowly ascended the mountain. She stared down at her lap, swaying her legs back and forth and twiddling her fingers. Wind whistled into her ears and shocked her face cold.

In a movie or a cliché ridden fanfiction, the ski lift might have malfunctioned, leaving them dangling in the sky for hours. Then, they would be forced into conversation, or used the opportunity as an excuse to sit closer together for warmth. Touko licked her lips slowly. They might, even, after a heartfelt conversation, take each other’s hands and lean in, and -

The ski lift shunted as they arrived at the top of the slope. Byakuya slid off like a human being. She shrieked and fell face first into the snow, and she practically heard the grinding noise that Byakuya made as he rolled his eyes.

“Are you okay, Fukawa-chan?” came a voice that had to belong to Aoi, because she was the only person who called Touko that. Hands pawed at Touko and Touko’s blood ran cold, but before she could scream, or think to scream, she was on her own two feet again.

“That was quite the tumble!” Sayaka said, taking her hands away about the same time that Aoi did. Both of them had dashed over to help Touko up.

“You’re lucky that I’m not reporting you for sexual harassment and inappropriate touching,” growled Touko as she brushed snow off her legs. She spat out some snow.

Aoi creased her brow, but Sayaka just smiled.

“You’ve got a strange sense of humour, Fukawa-san!” said Sayaka brightly, and Touko was so taken aback that she couldn’t come up with a retort before Chisa addressed everyone.

“All right, everyone.” Chisa waved her arm. “Stay with your buddy and remember, french fries and pizza!”

She adopted the first stance, keeping her skis parallel to each other.

“French fries help you go faster, and point you in the right direction,” she explained.

Next, she pointed the toes of her skis inward, forming a wedge shape.

“Pizza helps you control your speed. The bigger the pizza, the more friction and the faster you’ll stop, but pizza too much too quickly and you’ll fall down!” Chisa positioned her skis parallel again and added, “Try to angle the pizza to the side. Oh, and don’t stare too much at your feet.”

Yasuhiro held his stomach and pouted. “I could do with some pizza and french fries...”

Something so idiotic was to be expected from a guy like him. For the first time since she met him, he wore boots instead of sandals, his arms through his jacket sleeves instead of on his shoulders, and he didn’t have that crystal ball of his out that he used when he tried to coax classmates into buying fortune readings for extortionate prices.

Also, he wore a bobble hat, only possible because he tied his dreadlocks into a ponytail rather than have them stick out of his head like the rays of the Sun in a child’s drawing, and she thought he looked stupid in it.

“We all know how to ski,” said Leon, unaware of Touko desperately making mental notes on what Chisa said.

Sure, Touko had done some research, but reading was one thing. Actually skiing meant something else entirely.

Leon grinned at Sayaka and cocked his thumb toward himself. “Hey, Sayaka-chan, make sure you watch me go down! I’m going to the advanced slopes.”

His shock of red hair would be hard to miss, and when he spoke, he tried to show off his tongue piercing as much as he could. He was the kind of guy who would add breasts to a snowman and with his baseball talent, fling snowballs at his classmates at an alarming rate.

“I’ll keep my eye out,” Sayaka promised him politely.

Chisa nodded at everyone.

“If you’re a beginner, you can go to the bunny slopes,” she informed them all. “Otherwise, feel free to check out the bigger slopes. Just stay with your partner at all times. Remember, you have to look after each other, or else I’ll handcuff you both together!”

She laughed heartily, but Touko couldn’t tell if she meant that last part as a joke or not. And with that, the class split up.

Without asking Touko which slope she would prefer, Byakuya headed toward a steep incline. It wasn’t the steepest one there, but it wasn’t flat, so that made it steep. Too steep.

“Don’t stray far behind,” Byakuya said, and to Touko’s horror, he bent his legs and readied his poles, like he intended them to ski down it. “I don’t care to hear Yukizome nag me about you.”

“B-But...” Touko stammered, but Byakuya took off down the slope, not looking back. He made it seem so easy. So effortless.

Touko didn’t chase after him. Endangering herself wasn’t worth staying off the bad side of a classmate. Even if said person spoke with such spine-chilling authority... and those crystal blue eyes of his... could pierce her heart and leave her weak at the knees... and -

“Fukawa-chan!”

The sound of Aoi’s voice made Touko jump, and the thought of having to socialise spurred her on. Endangering herself it was then. Touko’s skis rasped against the snow like a knife being sharpened as she pushed herself forward. She started down the slope and shrieked as she sped along, the mountain air whipping her face.

If she continued screaming, she didn’t know, because the rush of wind was louder. Her surroundings blurred past her, so even though Touko’s goggles kept her glasses in place, she could still barely see. Last time she lost her glasses, her mothers hadn’t been pleased, and Touko had to be their maid or else they would tell her father about it, they had threatened.

Touko tried to clench her jaw shut. The world jumbled together into a white mess with tree trunk brown streaks zipping through it. On the websites that she studied beforehand, some people described the sensation as flying, just without the danger of leaving the ground. However, rather than a bird, she felt like a fly trapped in a glass and that she was hitting against it over and over again.

Remembering Chisa’s advice, she tried to position her skis into a pizza shape. It was a beginner’s move, but one easier said than done. She tried, straining, focusing on her body, not her surroundings...

... which explained why she drove straight into the back of Byakuya.

In a story or a tv show, the scene might have cut there, to spare the watchers secondhand embarrassment from the spectacle. Unfortunately, this was real life, and Touko could not skip past how they both tumbled, losing various articles along the way, and finally stopped with their limbs tangled together.

For a while, neither of them moved, and Touko would have stayed down for longer had Byakuya not groaned and started wiggling.

“What the hell?” he said, slurring his words a little. His head rocked side to side as he raised it. He regained more thought capability and mustered up a sharp, “Get off me!”

Touko scrambled away from him. Her head throbbed. Her whole body throbbed.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked, struggling to hear herself over the sound of white noise in her head. She didn’t have her poles anymore. Or her hat. Thankfully, she still had her glasses, though she could barely discern him because her head spun so much.

At least there was no blood. All she could taste was bile.

Her heart thrashed as she wrung her hands together, shaking them pleadingly at him. She couldn’t stop her teeth chattering, or the tremors in her body. “P-Please... d-don’t hit me! Or... let me get ready first... get in the right state of mind...”

Like let her imagine a dimly lit bedroom with candle, in the company of a man with a blank face.

“I’m not a barbarian,” said Byakuya as coldly as the snow around them. He clicked with his tongue and huffed. “Of all the people that I could have been paired with...”

Touko hugged her legs to her chest.

“We were the spares,” she said quietly.

Byakuya didn’t reply.

Her eyes burned more than they had when against the wind. She slumped her shoulders and choked on her words, holding herself tighter.

“I said that I couldn’t ski,” she mumbled, sniffling. “I said. T-They all probably booked this whole trip to highlight this and make a fool of me...”

And it worked. Byakuya pursed his lips.

“You’re not so important that this trip would be staged for you,” he told her, no longer struggling to speak. “Also, skiing isn’t really that important of a skill.

The rock hardness in Touko’s head cracked. Her face relaxed slightly, and she stared over at him.

Was he... trying to comfort her?

He stood up, shaking a bit, but otherwise seemed okay. Touko stayed cushioned n the snow and buried her fingers in her hair, retreating back into herself.

“I’m an idiot. An ugly, worthless idiot with no redeeming qualities,” she said, scrunching her eyes shut. “I’m too stupid to ski... not even someone like Togami could teach me...”

She felt her walls close in, surrounding her in an isolating darkness where she could only hear her own ragged breathing, her own taunting thoughts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Byakuya sharply, and she flinched.

Her prison shattered. In the space of a few seconds, she had forgotten that he was still here.

He quirked his brow. “Are you challenging me?”

Touko cringed.

“No, I...”

“Because I could teach you to ski,” he said, and he cupped his chin. “Yes... even someone like you... could become competent if you were under my teaching.”

She blinked.

“... Eh?” she went.

“Come with me.”

Like when he hurtled down the slopes, he took off without her, only much slower this time and in the opposite direction, waddling up the slope most likely to retrieve their discarded belongings. Touko crawled, staggering to her feet, and followed after him, bewildered. At least obeying orders didn’t involve much thinking on her part.

***

Half an hour later, they commenced Touko’s first skiing session on the bunny slopes where they didn’t see anyone they recognised, though goggles, hats and bulky coats would help disguise them. Of their whole class, the only person they would be able to spot at a distance was Celes, a gothic gambler who always wore a loita dress.

Touko slid her skis back and forth but didn’t stray from her spot, just like Byakuya told her. The bunny slopes were almost horizontal, so she didn’t have to worry about zooming down into oblivion.

Still, she wobbled, and still, she bit on her chapped lips as she tried not to fall down. Their crash earlier hadn’t done any lasting damage, so there was that, at least. Her shaking was only caused by inexperience, not nerve damage.

“Touch your toes,” said Byakuya, in front of her.

She had to bend her knees, but she managed.

“Walk sideways.”

Touko did.

“In a circle.”

That too.

“Try walking.”

And that.

“Slide more,” he told her. “Use your poles for balance.”

Touko hesitated. Byakuya jutted out his chin and folded his arms over his chest, and with a start, she did as he commanded, maneuvering around slowly. He stood still and watched as she familiarised herself with what to do. She caught a glimpse of his face. His mouth curved faintly, slanting downward at the ends, and his goggles obscured his eyes. Her heart skipped and she turned her head away.

Under his guidance, she learned to ski at a competent level, and once he was satisfied with her progress, he grabbed his poles.

“Let’s try a slope,” he said. “Walk up it sideways. Don’t rush.”

Byakuya demonstrated, and she copied him, waddling The slope wasn’t long, maybe ten metres in length, with a flat surface at the top and at the bottom. He reached the top first, but she wasn’t far behind, and he turned himself around so he faced down the slope.

“Get into position. Don’t be passive. Angle yourself slightly forward. Flex your ankles, and your knees and your pelvis. Hold your hands away from the body at about hip level with your elbows slightly bent.”

She arranged herself as such and sucked in her cheeks. From up here, the slope looked higher than the impression she got at the bottom. But it wasn’t neverending like the previous slope. This one wouldn’t kill her. It shouldn’t.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Now, ski down. You won’t have the chance to go particularly fast, so don’t worry.”

He told her not to worry! And he said that she had been ‘good’! Touko blushed and pushed herself forward with the poles. She glided down the slope. Like he claimed, she didn’t increase her speed to the same extent as before, and at the bottom, she successfully slowed to a stop with the use of the pizza stance.

Moments later, he skidded to a standstill beside her.

“Do it again,” said Byakuya. “Do it until you’re bored. Until you don’t have to think.”

She straightened sharply.

“Y-Yes, Togami-kun!” Touko said, and she hoisted herself back up the slope.

After the first half a dozen descents, she stopped counting how many times she skied down that slope. Just as Byakuya wanted, she found that she could ski without having to think too much about it. Her body went through all the right motions. That meant her mind could drift and ponder other matters, like her current novel about a girl starting at a new high school. Recently, the protagonist noticed another student who frequented the library, a tall, lean guy who came from a wealthy family but carried a dark secret.

Touko arrived at the bottom of the slope, and she had started climbing up again when they heard someone call out to them.

“There you are!” Chisa said, running over without her skis on. She stopped nearby and waved her arm. “Everyone is having hot chocolate, and then we’ll be skating after! Come on.”

Byakuya propelled himself over, while Touko stayed where she was.

“Is it that time already?” asked Touko with a flutter in her chest. It hadn’t felt like that long.

“Yuh huh. You must have lost track of time,” said Chisa, smiling. Touko stole a glance at Byakuya and smirked.

“I must have,” Touko said.

The class spent twenty more minutes relaxing after Touko and Byakuya arrived, sitting at tables in a cabin with horizontal panelling on the walls and polished wooden furnishing beneath their feet. A fire blazed, and some of them had dragged furniture over so they could sit near it, others reposing on rugs. Voices filled the cabin with noise, chatter and laughter, which Touko didn’t share in. Byakuya was the only one sat away from everyone else, reading the same book that he had on the drive over. This time, though, she could see the title - ‘Out’. As for her, she stood up with a mug of hot chocolate, positioned near his table. He didn’t tell her to go away, so she didn’t, and he didn’t tell her to stop looking at him, so she didn’t.

After everyone finished their beverages, they all headed over to an outdoor ice rink. As Touko put on her skates, she found herself missing the skis. Skates felt a lot more precarious.

Laced up, she hobbled after the others onto the ice. They spread out. Sayaka skated effortlessly, holding Makoto’s hand while he grinned, but his twitches betrayed his nerves. Mukuro skated laps, and every time she charged past Touko, even with the space between them, Touko cowered against the rail surrounding the rink.

When skiing, everyone had been separated, so no one but Byakuya had been witness to her inexperience. Here, in this confined space, outdoor though it was, she couldn’t hide from their beady eyes, but then she also discovered she wasn’t the only person who lacked confidence on the ice. Hifumi, Yasuhiro and Celes remained close to the rail, and Kiyotaka did too until Mondo grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“W-What are you doing?” squawked Kiyotaka.

“Loosen up, you dork,” said Mondo with a smirk. “I’m gonna teach you to have fun.”

Nearby, Chihiro stayed in Sakura and Aoi’s care. Chihiro’s movements started stiff as they let the other two do most of the work, but as they got more used to the ice, Chihiro smiled more with that face that got them so much attention from admirers online. Even if they couldn’t programme computers as expertly as they did, their meek personality and resemblance to a bunny rabbit would still obtain them a following.

They weren’t Touko’s type at all, however, so she turned her attention elsewhere quite soon. To Touko’s surprise, Byakuya didn’t skate. He leaned against the rail with his back to it, watching the others. Touko skated around a few times at a snail’s pace, never letting go of the rail except to tread around him, and Byakuya barely moved in that whole time, his arms folded over his chest. Occasionally, he budged along, but he never went far from the rail.

In fact, he never lost contact with it. She had thought that after their collision,they had both just about recovered, but on the ice, he barely stirred, just watch.

By the end of the hour, everyone had grown tired and got off the ice. Byakuya would have been the penultimate one to do so, and she the last. Touko was on the other side of the rink to him when she noticed him march slowly toward the gate, and she reached out a hand.

“T-Togami-kun!” she called out.

He hesitated, standing in the exit, and turned. She tried to stride over to him, but halfway there, felt herself losing her balance. Try as she did, she was suspended between two possibilities, either teetering indefinitely and falling, and the inevitable could only be put off for so long.

And so she braced herself, and let herself fall.

Only, she didn’t hit the ice like she expected.

Touko slumped into something hard, but padded. Opening her eyes, she realised she landed in Byakuya’s arms, her face squashed against his chest.

Her mouth opened, but she could only vocalise what was best described as a mix between static and gargling.

“Do you not know how to walk?” he snapped. He grabbed her arms and set herself upright.

She peered up at him, bottom lip quivering.

“You saved me,” she said breathlessly, her cheeks tingling, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Byakuya adjusted his glasses with his eyes averted away from her.

“I ought to have let you fall. It might have taught you a lesson,” Byakuya said. He dusted off his coat and looked at her again. “However... I was assigned to be your partner and I won’t have my reputation tarnished because of your incompetence. Don’t read too into it. I would rather throw myself off a cliff than be handcuffed to the likes of you.”

Too late. Touko already had read into it. They were partners, yes, but that had been for skiing. She didn’t know if that partnership applied here too. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe he was using it as an excuse.

“Why did you call my name?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. “What do you need me for? It better be important.”

She jerked her head back.

“Oh, I um...” Touko released herself from her hug and kneaded her fingers. Her shoulders hunched up. “I just... I noticed you weren’t skating, and I was worried that it was because I injured you.”

Byakuya raised his eyebrows but swiftly lowered them. He narrowed his eyes.

“You barely weigh anything,” he said in a dull tone. Touko blinked and placed a fist near her mouth.

“Then why weren’t you skating?” she asked him. “Were you too tired?”

He didn’t reply, not looking at her. She continued frowning at him, then realised.

“Can you not skate, Togami-kun?” she said, widening her eyes.

For a second time, he didn’t answer, but the way his eyes flickered and a muscle jumped in his cheek gave him away.

“It’s okay. I can’t either,” she admitted.

Byakuya squared his shoulders and glowered.

“Why should I be able to? It’s a worthless skill,” he said. He nudged up his glasses and turned up his nose, his other hand on his hip. “I have far more important things to do.”

Touko laced her fingers together, peering at him curiously. “Didn’t you ever go with your class?”

Trips to ski resorts seemed like the sort of thing a rich person would do.

“It was only an option on some school trips, one that I didn’t feel like choosing,” he explained. He looked away and surveyed their surroundings.

The afternoon sky had begun ebbing away but to combat the encroaching darkness, lamps around the rink had switched on, beaming brightly all around them, and the lights they emitted glowed on the ice in fuzzy reflections. They were the only two people in the vicinity. Byakuya curled his hands into fists.

“But... it can’t be hard, can it?” he said, more to himself than to her. “If the others can do it, then...”

He took a bold step forward and right away almost overbalanced. Touko yelped, springing into action, and tried to catch him. If he had been going to fall, he probably wouldn’t have had the strength to stop him, but as it was, he managed to stabilise himself. She kept her hands near him, so close to touching him. His face soured.

“The others who couldn’t skate held onto someone,” she pointed out.

Byakuya pinched his lips together in thought. His brows knitted, and she waited with bated breath. Finally, he turned his head toward her and simultaneously grabbed her hand. It sent a shock up her arm, that made her hairs stand on end.

“Let’s go,” he said. She gave a noise that sounded like she had gravel in her mouth. Even so, he kept hold of her hand and set off with her in tow.

They skated around together slowly, first staying near the edge but gradually spiraling toward the centre as they completed more laps, and the whole time, she could barely breathe. Barely believe it. The two of them were actually holding hands. Her, and him, who might shake hands with someone formally, but not hold hands with a classmate. With a girl.

Their skates stroked against the ice with a grinding sound, interspersed with hisses that grew less frequent as more time passed. His grip on her hand was firm, and she clung to him back. The more they skated, the quieter the grinding became, even if only by a little. Slowly but surely, they improved, and though Touko didn’t let go of him, she didn’t hold onto him because she feared toppling over.

By this time in the evening, temperatures dropped compared to the afternoon, but she couldn’t feel that.

“It’s not so difficult this way,” he remarked as they skated around a corner.

“Y-Yes, you’re right,” she said, cheeks flushed with warmth. She couldn’t stop smiling. “I support you... and you support me... we’re a team.”

It didn’t sound right, but it felt right.

After a few more laps, Byakuya led them to the edge and leaned his back against the rail. They let go of each other’s hands. She sidled up to him and clasped her hands together. Hope’s Peak sat in the middle of a city, so one would be lucky to see a handful of stars in the sky, but out in the mountains, they littered the sky. Staring upward, she picked out various constellations, imagining lines between them that when connected, conjured an image of what the constellation was meant to represent.

Byakuya lifted his hand and adjusted his scarf. Touko shivered and hugged herself.

“It’ll be spring soon,” she piped up. “And warmer. Cherry blossoms will decorate all the trees. It’s hard to believe that everything will become colourful again after a period of cold.”

She was babbling. Why was she babbling?

He shifted slightly.

“Yet it does come back,” he said. “The world carries on even after that period of idleness and decay, and it returns just as strong as last time.”

Byakuya’s lips drew into a smirk. That was as close to a smile as he seemed to ever get.

“It’s appropriate that I was born in spring,” he said.

Touko looked to him curiously. “So was I. When is your birthday, Togami-kun?”

“May fifth.”

Children’s Day, formerly known as Boys’ Day. She grinned widely.

“Mine is March third!” she said excitedly. “My birthday is on Girls’ Day, and yours used to be called Boys’ Day.”

“You’re right,” he said, like it was anything but fate. Destiny. “That’s most certainly a coincidence.”

Touko nodded. Byakuya didn’t reply, so they fell silent. He stared into space, and she soon did the same. Beyond the rink were cabins and coned trees scattered about on a blanket of snow that covered the ground as far as they could see. Further away, the number of cabins decreased, but the amount of trees grew larger, though from where she stood, they seemed tiny, even where there were a lot of them in one place.

She rubbed her hands together. The cold air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t feel any rush to go inside any time soon, and apparently neither did Byakuya. Despite how dark it had become, it couldn’t have been very late. Regardless, the night sky unnerved her, even with its pinpricks of stars.

“After spring, it’ll be summer,” she said.

“Indeed.”

“It gets dark later.”

“I’m not scared of the dark.”

“I am.”

Her breathing hitched at what she blurted out on impulse. Byakuya didn’t say anything, and she chanced a look at him. He seemed to be studying the mountains peaking in the far distance. She gazed at him, Byakuya, white night, and her, herself, named winter child.

One thing could be coincidence. But their birthdays, and their names...? This wasn’t a story. This was real life.

“Soon after we became acquainted with each other, you revealed that you assumed that I got my title as heir from merely being born,” said Byakuya all of a sudden.

She stiffened. Yes, she recalled him mentioning having to compete against his siblings to be chosen to be an heir.

“I remember,” she told him, in case he could be prompted to elaborate.

Byakuya stared up at the sky.

“I was pitted against my siblings,” he said. “Biologically, we are only half-siblings. My father supplied sperm, and the most high quality women were elected to be impregnated with it. So, I competed against more than one hundred people in a series of challenges.”

That couldn’t be right.

“O-One hundred?” she repeated.

“Indeed. After every challenge, the losers were killed.”

She gasped.

“Killed?” she choked out. He glanced at her.

“Well, expelled. Cast away. Stripped of their identities.” Byakuya said it like they meant the same thing. Now, as he spoke, he spoke with his gaze on her. “By the end, there were fifteen of us, and I came out top. In order to do that, I had to be intelligent. I had to be strong. I had to be perfect. I could not depend on anyone. I could not allow myself to feel fear. I would become prey if I showed any weakness. I was, and am, in absolute control of my emotions.”

Byakuya revealed this so casually to her. She blinked, at a loss for words for a moment. For as long as she could remember, she had been an only child. At the time of her birth, she had a half-sister, and even though she never got to meet her, she sometimes wondered what it would have been like if her sister survived. Meanwhile, Byakuya had living half-siblings. Many of them, in fact, that he had to purposely eliminate from a competition and send into exile so he wouldn’t share their fate. So he could continue to exist as himself.

“W-What sort of challenges were these?” she asked him, on the verge of biting on her thumb. “What did you have to do?”

He gave her a look that sent a chill down her on this already cold, cold night. She recognised it, especially in the eyes, when she had stared at her reflection after waking up with a new scar on her leg and another murder headlining the local newspapers.

“Whatever it took,” he simply said.

Touko swallowed. “H-How old were you?”

“Fourteen. I trained my whole life for this. It’s what I was created to do... to head the Togami Conglomerate.”

She stared at him, her fingers itching, and before she could lose her confidence, she grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed.

“You... You are more than that, Tog... Byakuya-sama,” she said.

Byakuya tensed, like he wasn’t used to being called that, and wrenched his hand from her and glared. He wiped his hand on his trouser leg and turned away.

“We should go back to the others now,” he said. “I don’t want to be bothered with their questions about where we were, and I have far better things to do than be with you, like anything else.”

Touko identified his hostility. Had felt it herself toward others trying to get close to her. She wanted to tell him about what she had gone through, but the words died in her throat, melted like snow on a hot day. Before she could speak, he had walked off and left the rink, and in time, she left the rink too.

The feel of his gloved hand during their fleeting touch lingered for a while. Even after it faded, Touko could still picture the scene, and she could clearly visualise his eyes that had her spellbound while he spoke to her. Recalling the sight of his eyes made her shudder, like she was outside in the cold with him again. Their image sat with her at her table at dinner, more worthy of her attention than the classmates that gathered around her with their meals, who all looked at each other mystified.

Aoi waved her hand in front of Touko’s vacant gaze.

“Do you think she got a concussion earlier?” asked Aoi.

Celes steepled her hands and smiled. “It would seem that way, hm?”

“You’re all wrong,” said Junko. She shooed Aoi’s hand away and leaned over the table, positioning her face in front of Touko’s.

The eyes that Touko were fixated on lasted a little longer before they mutated, changing shape and colour, as the upper lashes got longer and the irises became less saturated, greyer, but still tinted blue. They gleamed with mirth, like the fire burning in the fireplace.

Eventually, Junko’s eyes hung where Byakuya’s had been.

Touko came back to reality and jolted, nearly falling back off her chair.

“You have feelings for Togami-kun, don’t you?” asked Junko with a grin that Touko couldn’t quite read, different depending on the angle, how the light hit it.

With a jolt, Touko threw her head forward, nearly slamming it into her dinner that she had forgotten what it was until she saw it now and remembered it to be some kind of beef stew, then she sat up, flailed her arms and hissed, “S-Shut up!”

“Aw, that’s cute,” said Sayaka, holding her hands flat against each other and resting her cheek on them, like they were a pillow.

Aoi inclined her head to one side.

“He’s kind of a lemon, though, isn’t he?” said Aoi, and Touko turned her head sharply toward her.

“No, he’s not!” said Touko shrilly.

Celes’s shoulders shook as she laughed delicately behind one hand.

“He is, but then, doesn’t that make them an appropriate match?” asked Celes. “He’s rich too.”

Touko’s eyes darted over to Byakuya.

He didn’t seem to have heard them from across the room, sat by himself, and continued eating without breaking his pace.

“I’m not a gold digger!” Touko pulled on her braids. “U...wu...”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Sakura chimed in. She rested a hand on Touko’s shoulder and in a kind tone, added, “With work, I think you could be a good coupling.”

“I’m not ashamed!” Touko snapped but she soon broke into a smile, and she didn’t try to shake Sakura’s hand off her. Instead, she placed her palms against her cheeks. Hot. Her face was hot. “Byakuya-sama... and me... huh?”

Touko Togami had a nice ring to it.

[daeyton]

got/asoiaf fandom meme

thank you @octaviahales for tagging me!!<3<3 It was fun and I really loved your questions!!

rules: answer the 10 questions below. then make up 10 of your own for the next person to answer and tag people.

questions I was asked:

What is your favourite book/season? My favorite book (I am currently on on ASOS) has to  be the first book so far, and (while I have just started a GoT rewatch, I might be jumping the gun) I really enjoy the first season!! its very charming and I love the the initial sets and the background comings and goings. and Ned was alive.

If you could bring back one character from the dead who would it be and why? Robb Stark. I still ignore the fact he’s dead most of the time anyway so it’d be nice to have him back ;-;

What part of Westeros would you prefer to live in? that’s tough… the Riverlands seem like a good middle ground…. but not during war. if there’s war I’m sneaking to Dorne to hide in the sand

who is your favourite pre-got/aoiaf character? (stealing this one from @swainlake bc i love it!!) ooo I have a lot. But currently I’m really into Lyanna and Rhaegar…. problematic I know.

Who are your top 3 favourite characters and why? In a series with so many characters… this is tough… 1. Dany is always my number one from day one. Her arc is what makes her amazing shes able to transform herself with the inner strength you cannot see and remains so open minded to all walks of life. she means so much to me 2. Robb Stark, I’m always attracted to tragedy so.. here we go. He is the hero who couldn’t do it. He was open minded and friendly. He was a great leader and a lot was put on his shoulders and he was expected to carry the weight of a kingdom... he is the infallible older brother that… was fallible and thats heart breaking. My mind always goes back to him because to me he didn’t get to finish his story... 3. Arya Stark. She is open minded too! Fierce and wild at heart, her determination is admirable. Arya underfoot will fight for what she believes in and she finds so much strength within her family and roots, it really gets me emotional

What is your favourite storyline? Dany’s! From rising  up from the ashes as a sold slave into a khaleesi, to learning how to rule cities and free slaves with plenty of trial and error. There’s a lot of failure in her story along with some triumph and thats whats important to me. she doesn't quit after things go wrong. she sticks with it and tries her best to learn. She always has and offers hope.

Dragons or direwolves and what would you name yours? (stealing htis one too!) I hate choosing. I cant do it, I love both creatures dearly.

What are your favourite platonic character dynamics? Dany and Missandei!! (mostly show as I haven't gotten to book!missy) but I think they are each others first real healthy relationship and that shit makes me cry 

Which in universe gods would you follow? The old gods… even tho they probably need blood sacrafice to ‘water the weirwoods’ … i just like trees and nature

my questions (im sorry):

Favorite house sigil? 

Favorite magical phenomenon in the series?

Which character deaths made you cry?

Which house would you most belong to in Westeros?

Favorite soundtrack/score from the show?

Favorite costume?

Do you watch the show like an event with friends or do you shut yourself in and watch and freak out all by yourself? 

What is your favorite storyline (I stole @octaviahales question, its so good!)

What is your favorite pov in the books?

When do you think the winds of winter will be published fhajkedjkakfd

I honestly do not want to make anyone answer these lol I can’t think of interesting questions, but if you wanna do it feel free!! :) I tag you!!

...and @ladyofdragonstone @adecila @sohereweare1 PLEASE feel free to ignore

[queen-scribbles]

Stars Rewritten AU

Here we go, headcanons for the Adi-verse where Heodan survives. Everything’s behind the cut, since it won’t let me do one in the middle of bullet points(BOO) and this baby is long.

They’re originally just planning to stick together until they reach Gilded Vale and go their own ways, but with how messed up everything is there, that plan gets scrapped very quickly. It’s sketchy and they don’t know who to trust, so they wind up sticking together “just a little longer”.

Only thing that changes about joining up with Aloth is the fight with the drunks is over faster, and there being three of them means there is bed sharing bc they can’t afford a room with a bed for each of them. Adi and Heodan share bc this is a wish fulfillment au they know each other better.

When the Watcher dream starts, she kicks him in the chest twice and narrowly misses clocking him in the jaw. He, of course, tries to wake her up and can’t. She snaps awake just as he’s really starting to worry and feels v guilty for hurting him(especially since he still has a healing injury from the Cilant Lîs ruins), which he brushes off, promising it’s not that bad.

After Adi “talks” to Caldera and has her advice to head for Caed Nua, she asks Heodan if he wants to come with her(promising not to punch him any more in her sleep, which makes him laugh). He agrees, since he doesn’t have any reason to stick around Gilded Vale--no business prospects, unfriendly neighbors, she’s much better company, take your pick--and Caed Nua sounds like a place where they might find the fresh start they’re looking for.

Of course things don’t turn out all sunshine and roses, bc why should life be easy? After Maerwald’s dead and the Steward declares Adi the Lady of Caed Nua, she offers to let Heodan set up shop at the keep, so he doesn’t have to wander so much. Things need to be fixed up first, obviously, but he’d be safer here and knows the lady in charge.

He accepts. This is promising location, she has a good point about knowing the person in charge(knows she’ll be fair).... It’s actually going to be a pretty advantageous arrangement, once the keep’s fixed up some.

While they’re waiting to get things fixed up, however, he also accepts when she asks if he wants to come to Defiance Bay with her. He doesn’t have anything better to do, and getting an idea of how things stand in the city is a good idea.

That’s how it starts; him going pretty much everywhere with her. It’s not really a conscious choice on either of their parts so much as Adi goes  “Hey, Heodan, wanna come do ____ with me?” and he says “Sure”. They enjoy each other’s company and one more person to watch your back never hurts, and he’d be underfoot for the work crews if he stayed at the keep..... Why would there be any deeper meaning than that?

Before a month is out, it’s just assumed he’s going with her. The threat of bandits and other dangers means security-enhancing repairs come first, so the craft hall’s construction keeps getting bumped. “Heodan, wanna come with me?” has turned into “We’re leaving in the morning” with the unspoken expectation he’s coming. He never corrects her. He likes going along.

It’s around Teir Nowneth/Brackenbury (my usual order is Teir Nowneth -> Brackenbury ->Dyrford, it’s like how I always do the treaties in the same order for DAO) that the two of them start paying above average care to each other in combat, and roughly the first jaunt to Stalwart(2-2.5 months in) that they start prioritizing threats to each other over other opponents. They don’t notice what they’re doing until Edér makes a joke about it. 

Dyrford + associated quests came between the halves of tWM, so there are some latent--if unacknowledged--feelings beyond Adi’s (ever-growing) crush when she slips jumping the gap for the back way into Clîaban Rilag and Heodan wrenches his shoulder really bad catching her so she doesn’t plummet to her death.

He just reacted, and that 18(to 21, depending on resting bonus) dex meant he was fast enough to catch her and he’s glad and he doesn’t care that his shoulder hurts because she’s okay and no, Edér, stop grinning like that, it doesn’t Mean Anything, that’s ridiculous. When Adi tries to apologize, he waves it off as paying her back for helping him that first escape into the ruins after the Glanfathan attack.

Sagani’s the one who does the adventure that rewards with the Lovers’ Light rings, and she kinda tosses them to Adi with a smirk and a “Here Watcher, you can find a use for these, right?” *wink wink nudge nudge* It takes a bit of studying to figure out how they work, but once she does, Adi wears the copper one and gives the silver one to Heodan. She does explain to him that they’re enchanted so the wearers can tell if the other is hurt and give some of their essence by squeezing the jewel to help if they want. She’s mostly thinking so she can help him if--gods forbid--he gets hurt in a fight. He’s more front line than she is, after all. Even if he is usually backstabbing people as opposed to Edér’s facing people head-on. (So I’m basically headcanoning that they work like Vox Machina’s “medic alert” necklaces or whatever they called them that they got after Tary joined, with the option to sacrifice your health to stabilize the other person)

Heodan’s not as adventurous as Adi but keeps tagging along on these trips of hers. “I’d be bored and underfoot back at the keep with nothing to do” is his explanation. “Once there’s a building for my shop and I have that to stock and take care of, then you’ll lose me.” (it’s almost a running joke between them by this point--how one or the other keeps finding excuses to prolong his adventuring. Neither really dwells on why they keep doing that.)

She actually ‘loses’ him sooner than that. On the way back from Dyrford Adi decides to (finally) investigate Fyrga’s vision, figuring she can then report back to Fyrga and Lady Webb in one trip. Whatever she was thinking this vision implied, a temperamental, possessive dragon is so not what she was expecting to find.

Despite Adi’s best efforts to defuse the situation and just walk away, the dragon’s not having it and attacks them. They’re actually doing pretty well handling the dragon and its xaurip underlings(first time I’ve ever been over-leveled for that fight lol), but the last remaining xaurip gets in a really good hit on Adi before she kills it via grimoire slam. Thanks to both her cry of pain and how much damage she’s doing, the dragon zeroes in on her.

She has pretty good reflexes, but you can’t dodge and cast at the same time, and ofc she has blood from the xaurip’s parting blow running down her arm, so it’s only a matter of time before it catches her. (She’s largely worried that catching her will also catch Aloth, since they’re both hanging back in roughly the same area, and she really doesn’t want one of her friends getting hurt bc of proximity to her)

Between seeing her predicament and feeling through the ring how badly she’s hurt, Heodan takes a pair of very big risks right together: squeezes the jewel in his ring to heal Adi(he’s standing closer to the paladin, besides, with an enemy that can fly, best to keep those who do ranged damage in good shape, right?) and rakes his stiletto along as much of the dragon’s tail and leg as he can reach, hoping to distract it.

Both of these work a little too well; leaving him hurt and dazed when the dragon wheels around and takes a swipe at him. He doesn’t move fast enough to dodge completely, and the dragon’s claws catch his shoulder and the side of his neck and rake in almost to the center of his chest (how the claws didn’t catch an artery and just kill him outright is a miracle straight from the gods and me *cough*).

Now truly freaked out as she watches him just crumple, bc she knows what he did, Adi pops off a Call to Slumber spell(since Unconscious is not one of Cail’s resistances, suck it, loser). This gives them a serious edge bc now the dragon is unconscious and on the ground where everyone can reach. They finish it off rather quickly(Pallegina gets the killing blow), and then can worry about the unconscious and badly bleeding rogue.

Adi tries to help by squeezing the jewel in her ring right back, but apparently the enchantment needs time to “recharge” between activations and it doesn’t do anything. So they have to patch Heodan up through conventional methods as best they can and Adi decides they should take him to Caed Nua since she has a couple very skilled healers on staff in case any of the workmen get hurt while making repairs. Pallegina cautions that between the extent of his injuries and the... mediocre at best healing skills among their group, he might not even make it that far.

Cue Adi being worried sick and checking on him every half hour max the entire day-ish it takes to reach Caed Nua. She doesn’t sleep the night they have to make camp, instead sitting up and watching Heodan breathe to make sure he keeps doing it. Every so often she squeezes the jewel in her ring, but it never does anything(she starts wondering how long the damn thing needs to recharge[answer: a day, because if I’m giving her a hella powerful magical artifact, there has to be some kind of catch to it]). 

Despite Pallegina’s concerns, Heodan does hang on long enough to get him to the more skillful healers at Caed Nua. (In a twist of something like irony, the work crews were just getting ready to start building the craft hall) Adi hangs around anxiously in the corner while the healers get him properly patched up. They’re honest with her--he’s not in good shape (aside from the shredding damage and blood loss from the dragon’s claws, the initial blow broke his collarbone and a couple ribs), it could go either way, they can’t make any promises.

Between worrying so much she can barely breathe and feeling guilty he got hurt protecting her, Adi wants to stay at Caed Nua until she knows Heodan is out of the woods. But it’s not to be.The second night at Caed Nua, sleeping on the floor of his room(basically passed out from exhaustion; she hasn’t slept since the dragon fight), she dreams about the Eyeless.

This is clearly a major and pressing threat. So, reluctant as she is to leave with Heodan in such bad shape, she gives her friends another couple days to rest and get together supplies they’ll need before they head out.

She’s personally hoping that Heodan will at least wake up--even if just for a few seconds--in the interim, but it’s not to be. So she makes the healers swear to send word if there are any major changes, good or bad, before setting off back to Stalwart.

Adi and Co spend the next two weeks running all over the White March dealing with first some smaller scale problems--like the Battery cannons--then the Iron Flail, and then the Eyeless. No news comes Caed Nua the entire time. Not sure if this is good or bad, she books it back home after finishing in Stalwart.

Heodan’s actually awake when they get there, has been for about a week. The healers wrote her but something must have happened to the letter bc she never got it.

Adi gives him the most enthusiastic hug she dares considering, y’know, broken collarbone and all. She’s relieved beyond words that he pulled through.  She decides to hang around the keep for a couple weeks, surprising absolutely no one, spend some time with him until she’s 100% sure he’s out of the woods. Once the craft hall is finished, she helps with getting that all stocked and ready for when Heodan’s recovered enough to start running it.

Finally, though, she has to go back to work. Starts with Kana’s quest and probably the Battle of Yenwood, maybe Raedric round 2, then it’s just hunting down bounties,short trips that give her an excuse to come back and make sure he’s still alright. (By this point, Edér and Sagani have money on which will come first; Adi confessing her feelings or Heodan figuring them out bc the girl is not as subtle as she thinks she is) But Adi definitely knows the Leaden Key are up to something sketchy by now, and she can’t leave things alone forever. So she heads for Defiance Bay to tell Lady Webb what she found in Clîaban Rilag. While she’s there, she hears a rumor about a group of bandits planning to attack Caed Nua, so puts the animancy hearing on hold to go back and deal with that. The fight is actually rather grueling--this group was better prepared than she expected--so they take a couple days to rest before heading back to the city. (This is where Let It Snow would fit)

Between nerve damage and the way his collarbone heals, Heodan’s arm doesn’t “heal” all the way; stays kind of stiff, which puts an end to his adventuring. He’s no good in a fight anymore, and with the craft hall done, it’s better he focus on that anyway. Being a merchant is what he came to the Dyrwood for in the first place, after all. He’s happy for Adi(and her friends) to be his primary customer(s), but this is for the best.

Adi drops in to say hi every time she’s back at Caed Nua, without fail. This starts during the end of the bounty hunting spree that he’s recovered enough she’s visiting him in His Shop rather than the infirmary, and after  that it’s always the first place she goes when they come back. Still doesn’t say anything about her feelings. Life is too crazy right now, she doesn’t feel like it would be fair to him. (also, there’s a small part of her that’s afraid of losing their friendship, him being the oasis of normal in the craziness of her life.And, look, either way things are going to change, whether he likes her or not. It would just be different kinds of awkward and she doesn’t need that in her life right now)

She finally caves, though, after the animancy hearings and the riots. She stops by the keep “To tell the Steward what happened before rumor get there” (Sure, Adi. The Steward’s the one whose emotions you’re worried about). She’s never quite sure why, later; maybe it’s just finally hit the breaking point of being too much to keep secret, maybe she was inspired by Aloth’s confession to be more honest, who knows? Whatever the reason, she feels compelled to tell Heodan before she follows Thaos to Twin Elms. Just completely spills her guts.

Turns out he knew, or at least suspected, months ago. Adi is a very heart on her sleeve, unsubtle person, it didn’t take a genius to figure out. Especially not with all that time Heodan had while he was recovering where all he could do was lay in bed and think. He didn’t say anything because he figured she had her reasons for keeping quiet and would tell him when she was ready. Also, the longer it took, the more he started to wonder if he’d read things wrong, which was another reason to keep his mouth shut; he didn’t want to make things awkward because he also valued her friendship.

But, you know, he does like her back. She’s kind and passionate and curious and a whole laundry list of other admirable qualities. This prompts Adi to reel off part of the list of reasons she likes him, and they agree to talk more after she gets back from stopping Thaos. There’s a goodbye kiss and then she’s off to save the world.

She’s uncharacteristically impatient to get through Twin Elms, a place she would normally want to spend hours exploring and talking to people and learning all they’re willing to share. Between her rush and her even better than usual mood, Kana actually asks her what’s going on when they settle in for the night at the Celestial Sapling. She’s only too happy to spill the beans. The Watcher dreams are really bad that night, she hardly gets any sleep, but she’s still in a relatively good mood come morning

Is actually really shaken by the revelation her Awakening is permanent. She puts on a brave face talking to Aloth about it, but she was really, really hoping there was a way to reverse this, whether convincing Thaos to undo it or some Engwithan ritual or whatever. Part of her wonders if it’s smart to stat a romantic relationship with someone knowing this is permanent. She saw what happened to Maerwald; she’s uncomfortable with the chance of making someone who loves her watch that happen to her. (When she admits that to Kana, he points out Maerwald had multiple personalities Awakened, some in direct conflict with each other, she only has one)

They win, they go home(Adi kept her promise to Galawain), Heodan is very relieved to see her. They’d been hearing rumors she’d as good as died and other things to that effect. There’s a very long hug involved, which only ends bc he’s kneeling on stone floor and that’s not very comfortable. :P Rather than join the rest of her friends and Caed Nua’s staff in celebrating her success, the two of them find somewhere quiet they can talk about Them.

There are, of course, concerns; her Watcher-ness and Awakened soul are the first ones Adi brings up, but there’s also difference in social standing, lifespan disparity between folk and orlans, the prejudice they’ll deal with given that it’s not just a mixed relationship but she’s an orlan. In the Dyrwood. Edér might be terribly bad, but, y’know, she’s been called ‘cat-fucker’ enough times she wants Heodan prepared if he really want this, wants her.

(he does)

In the end, they acknowledge there will be challenges, but decide they can handle anything together. They’ve always made a good team, if it took a dragon to change their dynamic before, what chance does petty gossip and name calling have?

They share a kiss--a good kiss--with the sunset, enjoy their moment of peace and quiet by cuddling and looking at the stars etc etc happy ending there ya go. ;)

The Deadfire headcanons will be a separate post bc boy HOWDY did this wind up longer than I expected.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy birthday, micmic022!!

@micmic022  we greatly apologize for the delay! We hope your birthday on the 11th was full of great things. In honor of your day @booksrockmyface has written you a special birthday fic!

Title: Successful Arrangement

Gift For: micmic022

Rated: T

Trigger warning: Talk of infected wound leading to amputation.

Author’s Note: Happy birthday! I hope you like this take on an arranged marriage.

Peeta looked at the picture on his phone of the woman The Victors Agency had matched him with. He had many friends who were able to find a good marriage through The Agency. It prided itself in making perfect marriage arrangements. And had done so for 74 years. Peeta chose it over any of the startups that claimed to have similar successes.

They’d matched him with a young woman named Katniss. They had exchanged a few emails and texts. And a single phone call that lasted all of twenty minutes. She was obviously not much for phone conversation, but he didn’t mind. She was very eloquent over their written communication. And maybe she did better in person.

But it was finally time to meet and Peeta was ready.

He looked down at the phone again and pulled up her picture. Her text came through as he was looking around the park to spot her.

Katniss: I’m by the fountain.

Peeta turned in a circle and found the fountain. He headed toward it, typing his text as he went. Be there in a sec.

He saw her before she saw him. Her dark hair was down in waves over her shoulders. Her hands flexed on her lap as she looked around. Her grey eyes took in everything. He could already imagine how he would recreate her likeness in every artistic medium he used. Probably pencils first…

“Katniss?” Peeta asked as he stepped closer.

Katniss stood. “You’re Peeta. Good.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He shook her hand. “And you.”

“I have time for the ceremony Saturday.” She said as she started walking around the perimeter of the fountain.

He followed. “Saturday works. I’ll make all the arrangements.”

“My sister would prefer some pomp and circumstance. I’m only getting married once, she reminds me.”

Peeta smiled. “I think I’m going to like your sister.”

Katniss returned his smile. “I think you will, too.”

They spent a half hour discussing the particulars. Katniss texted Peeta her address so he could start moving his things.

___

The ceremony was held between the Mellark Bakery and the house the family lived in. A justice of the peace presided over the vow exchange. Peeta’s dad provided a large variety of baked goods for the reception.

Katniss and Peeta sat uncomfortably beside each other at a table on the porch. Other tables were arranged in the yard.

“Can I get you anything?” Peeta asked softly between well-wishing guests.

“A cup of water would be nice.” Katniss responded. Her throat was so scratchy that the words were forced.

“I’ll be right back.” He patted her hand and walked away.

Prim stepped over as soon as he was gone. “You okay?”

Katniss nodded. “Just ready to be home.”

“I know, you didn’t sleep well last night. I heard you tossing and turning.”

Peeta came back over with a kind smile. “Hello, Primrose.” He sat a glass of water in front of Katniss and held out a plate piled high with all sorts of baked goods. “I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I got two of everything.”

“I’m not hungry.” Katniss said.

“Well, I am.” Prim picked up a roll from the top and broke it in half. Long strings stretched between the two sections. “Cheese!” She took a large bite.

“Cheese bun,” Peeta grinned, “I made those.”

After a slight hesitation, Katniss picked the identical bun off the top of the stack and took a bite. Flavor exploded in her mouth. She gave Peeta a small smile as she chewed. “Not bad.” It was the most delicious thing she’d ever put in her mouth.

“I’m glad you think so.” Peeta looked relieved.

Katniss hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She finished off the cheese bun and surveyed the pile in front of her. “Did you make anything else?”

Peeta pointed. “I made the chocolate raspberry croissants. Well, Dad started the dough and I finished up the process.”

Katniss picked up one and broke it in half. She was starting to feel a little more comfortable with Peeta as they sat. She offered part of the croissant to him.

He accepted it and settled back in beside her.

Prim pulled up a chair. “Can I help in the bakery?”

“If you want.” Peeta said. “And if it’s okay with your sister, of course.”

Katniss shrugged. “Have to find something to keep you occupied this summer.”

“Well, since I can’t really go with you and you think I’m not old enough to be alone at home…”

“You’re thirteen, Prim. And I have long hours.” Katniss looked to Peeta. “It’ll be okay with your dad?”

“I think so. My nephew’s always underfoot and he’s a lot younger.” Peeta winked at Prim. “You’re part of the family now. Have to learn the ropes.”

Prim beamed and Katniss would be forever grateful.

The party lasted into the early hours of the evening. Katniss and Peeta drove away amidst applause. The ride across town was silent.

“Did you finish getting everything moved today?” Katniss asked as they walked up the front steps.

“I did, yeah.” Peeta waited for her to unlock the door and then he swept her up into his arms.

She gasped and threw her arms around his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold.” He stepped through the doorway and then sat her on the floor. “We never discussed if you would be changing your name.”

“I don’t plan on it.” She closed the door and leaned against it to remove her shoes. “Did you want me to?”

“No. I’m glad. I just wanted to make sure I addressed you properly. Mrs. Everdeen.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She laughed. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“I try.” He grinned and dropped her hand. “You want to hang out a bit before bed? It’s not that late yet.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night, so I’m a little tired.” She waved toward the living room. “Make yourself at home, though. We’ll do something tomorrow.” She hesitated and then she turned down the hall. “Goodnight.”

____

The house was quiet. Peeta wasn’t used to it. Part of the reason he applied to the agency was because of the crowded house. He put his prosthesis back on and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Cooking in the middle of the night sometimes helped when he had trouble sleeping.

He found Katniss sitting at the table with a steaming cup in front of her. “I guess I’m not the only one suffering from insomnia.”

Peeta chuckled. “Guess not. Mind if I rifle through the cabinets?”

She shrugged. “It’s your house now. I need to go shopping, but I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“We can go tomorrow.” He suggested as he started going through things. “Best way to get to know someone is how they shop.”

“What a way to spend a honeymoon.” She sat back and watched him.

He found flour and sugar. “Pancakes?”

“I love pancakes.” She took a sip from her cup. “Especially at one in the morning.”

He found the rest of the ingredients and went to work. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“This marriage business. Why did you sign up?”

The silence that followed Peeta’s question made him think he’d overstepped.

Eventually, Katniss said, “When our mother died, Prim went to live with our uncle and aunt. And when I tried to take over custody, I was told it would look better on my application if I were married.”

“She lives here, I thought.”

“She does. But I’m not her legal guardian. Haymitch and Effie still have to sign everything.” She chewed her lip. “It’s okay, isn’t it? We could get an annulment or—”

He cut her off with the wave of his hand. “It’s fine. It’s a good reason. Better than mine.”

“Which was?”

“My oldest brother Graham moved back in with his son after his divorce. Ryan never wants to move out because it’s easier to get to work living beside the bakery and he always has one girl or another that stays over. The house is loud. I’ve tried dating, but women end up running for one excuse or another. I just decided if I could find a woman who already had a home….” He looked over his shoulder. “Your reason is definitely nobler and I’ll gladly help you get custody of Primrose. Whatever I need to do.”

“Thank you.” She pointed. “I store pans under the stove.”

Peeta took one out and started heating it up. “I have a prosthetic leg.” He pulled up the leg of his pajama pants and showed her. “I should have said something before. I’m sorry.”

Katniss shook her head. “It’s no big deal. Your dad let it slip. I pretended like I already knew. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“I don’t sleep with it.” He dropped the cloth down and poured some pancake batter into the pan. “And if I get up in the middle of the night I don’t bother putting it back on. I crawl or hop where I need to go. Don’t want to freak you out if you see me crawling around in the hallway in the dark.”

She laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”

They were quiet as Peeta finished making pancakes. He sat down the platter and joined her at the table.

She put a couple pancakes on her plate and poured syrup over them. “Can I ask… How did it happen?”

“It was kind of stupid. My brothers and I were wrestling around. I got scraped pretty bad on a nail. It got infected and my mom tried to treat it at home until it got too bad. Went to the hospital and there was nothing else to do except amputate.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. Well, not for me. I was eleven when it happened. It was the deal breaker in a lot of my relationships, though.”

“Too bad, you’re really cute.” Katniss put a bite of pancake in her mouth.

Peeta felt his cheeks heat up. “Well, thanks.”

“Prim thinks so too. She was falling all over herself when she first saw you, so you’re teenager approved.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s good to know.”

They talked into the early hours of the morning. It was nice to finally have the time to get to know each other. Peeta knew fate had handed him a big win when he was matched with Katniss through the agency. He made a promise then and there to do everything in his power not to mess it up.

[alliebruns-blog]

The Jurassic Coast Challenge 2018 - Guts, Glory and Running through a Depression

Hurrah! It’s my favourite multi day ultra! I first did Jurassic Coast Challenge in 2017 and it remains one of my complete faves. 3 marathons (if a marathon is indeed between 28-29 miles), in 3 days across the Jurassic Coast - one of my favourite places on earth. The route takes you from the Golden Cap on day one to the HQ at Weymouth sailing school. Day 2 runs from Weymouth sailing school around Portland, and then back out through Weymouth finishing at Lulworth Cove. Day 3 takes you from Lulworth Cove all the way through Swanage and over Old Harry Rocks to the finish on Studland beach. Glorious. Especially when the sun is shining - which it always does, right? WRONG.

The week before had been that snowy ice week which everyone was freaking out about, so it was always going to be a little damp underfoot, but with all the rain the previous week I was actually wondering if it would be cancelled. Some of the trails on those cliffs are dangerous at the driest of times, but surely if they were muddy the likelihood of flying off the end of them was slightly higher? It was all OK though, and I got to Weymouth on Thursday night in time for dinner with my caravan mate for the week, lovely Richard Palmer. Rich is a much better runner than me, but I had told him that and he seemed to accept that if he wanted to run with me, he’d have to take it down a notch or 20.

People doing all three days of the challenge (you can also sign up for them individually) have the option to stay in a caravan for the weekend, at Chesil Vista which I love because I am weird. It has a bar where they do bingo every night and families who hate each other go in there so they don't have to interact. It’s also where tribute acts go to die. It’s the best. It was me, Rich and my sister in our van. My sister and I have a habit of behaving like teenage boys but really clean and tidy ones. Rich was so lucky he got to share with us. SO LUCKY.

DAY 1 We trotted down to the HQ early and registered, got our maps, got a our chippy dibby thing and had our kit checked. They are super thorough at these events. Like SUPER thorough every day and you have to carry a lot of shit about with you. Then we had the briefing which, again, is very thorough (self nav yay!) and jumped on the buses to take us to the start of day one. I was in group 2 who go out first - the walkers and ‘joggers’. I made a hideous mistake last year and put myself in the running group because I was being a twat. It was SO harsh. I was literally the last on on the course. They put the speedy runners out a couple of hours after the slower people have started because they obviously RUN UP THE GOLDEN CAP BECAUSE THEY ARE MONSTERS.

There she is. Day 1 - The Golden Cap.

And here she is from the top. What a lovely way to start a 3 day ultra. Said nobody ever. 

It was pretty cold and windy and rainy - perfect JCC weather - but I was running with my sister and that made the whole thing way more fun. First part of the race is, as I said, up the Golden Cap - a hill so big you can’t actually see the top of it - then it trots its way along the “undulating” (fucking hilly!) coastline towards West Bay (or Broadchurch as it should rightly be called). 

BROADCHURCH! (Or West Bay as the locals call it)

Checkpoint 1 done and it’s up that MAHOOSIVE hill where little Danny died (again see Broadchurch) through fields of lambs, up and down and up and down and mud and mud and I fall over, and on to the beach (literally onto the beach). The death beach. The beach made of tiny, deep stones. 

The death beach. 

Only 2 miles along that then. FFS. About 3 miles before checkpoint 2 my sister is all “OMG I FEEL AWESOME! 13 miles in 2 hours!” I am all “no, it’s 8 miles in 2 hours, your watch is measuring in kilometres”. Meltdown time. Checkpoint 2 done, sadwiches, crisps, tactical poo, and we are off on the beach AGAIN and then they throw in some proper sticky mud for another few miles. Nice. 

There was a lot of this....

And some more of this......

My glorious sister, trotting it home to Weymouth. 

Back on the icy mud hills and cow shit fields, checkpoint 3 - MORE SANDWICHES - and along the sea to Weymouth - it starts raining about 4 miles before the end, but day one is done in a not stunning 7 and a bit hours. I’m knackered and I need a beer, but we have had a good day and taking it easy is exactly what I need to be doing. Rich is already back at the caravan. He did it in 5.40. Fuck my ACTUAL life. I go to the bar and win a bottle of Lambrini because I am so good a quizzes. More good at them than Rich is at running.

DAY 2 Here we go. Here we fucking go. I wake up feeling terrible. I am chronically depressed. I know I am and I start to panic. Anxiety, feel sick. Best have some food. I make eggs and toast for everyone and eat mine only to promptly throw it all back up again. One of the things about depression is you never know when it is going to hit you. You can be doing the best thing the world with people you love, running through some of the most beautiful scenery on earth, but if he decides to come, he will come. All I want to do is curl up in bed and die. Sometimes when I feel depressed, I am physically sick. It’s like my body is doing everything it can to make me stop doing something that will heal it. It’s horrible and I hate it and I try to explain to my caravan crew - my sister knows and deals with it accordingly - but I can’t explain because I think I might cry. Again, my body doing everything it can to stop me going out. But fuck you, depression, I won’t let you do this. Relentless, Forward Progress. So off we go to Weymouth. I try and get a banana and some coffee down me but I am scared of being sick again so I am hungry. Today we run from Weymouth sailing school to Purbeck - all the way round Purbeck and then back through Weymouth and onto  “The Rollercoaster". The hellish hills that lead to Lulworth Cove. It’s raining as we set out and it makes for some pretty epic foggy Purbeck pictures. As soon as I take the first step I know that I will be ok. This fucking illness will not rule me. I will rule it. I will. But I will walk up this epic hill first.

Purbeck looking pretty Game of Thrones

Purbeck looks stunning in the mist, and the going is good - I am even enjoying the rain. It’s beautiful up here and as we get to the first checkpoint by Portland Bill lighthouse, I realise Rich, who was in the fast group behind us, has caught us up. Jesus fucking christ the shame. I eat a jaffa cake and some crisps. I am starving. Rich decides to stay with us as we navigate the chalky hills of Portland - it like an OCR course and there are a lot of steps, hills and chalky mud. We’re a good little group though, and we have some good chats with other runners. Some beautiful sights up here - a petting zoo with wallabees, the epic ocean and a young offenders institute (or children prison as I like to now call it) NICE.

I hope that doesn’t fall down......

We decide not to go down the hill we came up at the start and opt for the road route down to the sailing school for checkpoint 2 where we spend 20 mins eating sandwiches. I am confident I won’t throw up again now, and I am starving. Then we are off again down the road towards Weymouth, along the promenade (where we meet an pick up a group of kids running to Lulworth who prove to be extremely annoying) along more beach and then up the first hill towards The Rollercoaster. It’s muddy AF and really hard going and I am tired, but it’s stunning. My sister starts slowing down - she knows we are nearish the end, but I know what is coming up - unrelenting hills that looks a lot like this……. 3 of them.

The Rollercoaster. That’s the threes hills you see in the background of this photo. Glorious. 

What goes down....

Even going down them is hard as it’s slippy and the tracks are narrow and the drop is sheer, but it’s here that I feel my best - I love this part of the coast and I am happy to be alive and running. Fuck you, depression. The climbs up are SO severe and the kids we picked up earlier are like mountain goats running up them. I want to kill them. When my sister asks one of them what he training for and he says “life” I actually almost punch him and call him a virgin. And then the final climb, and it’s down the hill to the end. 

Durdell Door marking the almost end of day 2.....

It’s my sisters last day today, as she can’t do tomorrow, and as much as she says I let her win I actually didn’t - I was shagged. Hard rock steps all the way down to the finish which I found extremely annoying and she was well ahead of me on those - so fair play Janey - you smashed it! End of day 2 - 7 hours - back in the coach to HQ to have a shower, a pint and a sleep. Day 3 tomorrow and it turns out it was worse than I remembered. But in my own head I had won today. 

Running besties. Two sisters at The Door! 

Day 3 So I though Day 3 was the most glorious of all the days. I don't know why I thought this - I have done this before. It’s horrendous. In the best possible way. 

Day 3 starts......

Turns out this one has the most hills, the most elevation (4,500ft) and the most fucking steps. This goes out from Lulworth Cove, where we finished yesterday, to Studland beach, and it’s up and down the whole fucking way. You have the stairway to heaven/hell thrown in the middle - over 200 steps down and another 200 up and its BRUTAL. It was windy and cold and I still felt depressed and nauseous, but I had Rich with me so at least I had someone to say my last words to should I actually die or throw myself off a cliff. To summarise the day I shall use pictures and the following word. Hills, lambs, mud, hills, hills, hills, mud, lambs, wanting to die, losing direction. cheese sandwich, hills mud, hills.

One of the only flat bits of the day....

Hills.....

Hills.....

Hills. Actually watched a bloke fall down this and it was quite funny. (He was fine)

Stairway to Heaven/Hell...... those are god damn STEPS. 

And from the other side.....

As I a walking up the stairway to heaven, dying, a deer runs up the hill next to me completely effortlessly. Its one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I am a vegetarian, but suddenly I have a craving for venison because I literally HATE how fit that deer is.

Once you get to Swanage you know you’re almost there, so to celebrate we had an ice cream because we are professionals. The general public are bused my me and Rich running along easting ice cream. I am amused by this.  Another little beach stretch, then it’s up the final climb towards Old Harry Rocks, across the top and down to Studland beach where its a 2 mile run across the sand. 

The trail up to Studland. More mud. Which is good because I hadn’t seen much of that this weekend.

Old Harry! We be coming for ya! 

The longest 2 miles known to man. Felt like 20. 

I was struggling a bit to keep momentum at this point, but having Rich with me made all the difference. He actually did keep me from walking too much and eventually, after 7 hours, we made it to the end - I felt bad he had stuck with me the whole time but made myself feel better by telling him it was good practice for the Dead Sheep Ultra he is doing in a couple of weeks. Yeah.

So all in another brilliant race by VOTOW. Great aid stations and staff, great runners and hardly a Salomon man in sight. I would like to apologise to the marshall that, when he asked where I wanted my water bottle I replied to with “up my bumhole”. That was a joke and I am sorry (ish). So I am signing up for the ACC - Atlantic Coast Challenge in October this year. Let’s give that one a go shall we? 85 miles, 3 days and 10,000ft elevation on the JCC done. One of the most beautiful races on earth. Up next - Ultra Tour of Arran in 2 weeks!

Thanks for being a pal and running with me, Rich! Good luck at Dead Sheep next week! 

[darkesttimelinestuff]

Happy Halloween, Philes!

Is the unremarkable house haunted??

'Poltergeist' by all_these_ghosts

This pre-IWTB fic is easy, fluffy, fun.

1,890 words, Rated Teen

On the way home from work she stops by Blockbuster. He'd requested something "creepy, not gory", so she checks out Poltergeist. They've both seen it before, but they never actually watch the movie, so she can't imagine it'll matter. 

At the counter she adds on a bag of mixed fun-size candy. Last year they didn't get any trick-or-treaters - not surprising, considering their house lies two miles down an unmarked dirt road - but you never know, and Scully has no interest in cleaning egg off the siding tomorrow morning.

When she pulls up in front of the house, he’s outside raking leaves in the waning light. She's glad to see him outside, glad to see him doing something useful. She worries about him alone in that house all day.

There's a pumpkin sitting on the front porch, perfectly fat and round and orange. "Where'd that come from?" she calls.

Mulder turns to her, letting the handle of the rake rest on his shoulder. "Took a walk earlier. The Harringtons are selling them out of their truck."

All of this is good news to her. He'd spent the whole sweltering summer lying on the hardwood floor in their living room with a fan blowing on him, refusing to go outside during the day even when she accused him of being a vampire. Maybe that was just a phase, or some kind of reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder.

"I got your movie," she says, waving the blue-and-white box in the air.

He lets the rake fall to the ground and comes over to grab the box. "Good choice," he says. He peers in the bag. "And candy? We never have candy."

"It's Halloween, Mulder, I'm not a monster."

“If you were, it’d be seasonally appropriate."

She flashes a grin at him. "Besides, we might get trick-or-treaters."

Mulder looks around at their complete lack of neighbors - way off to the west there's a little light on the horizon from the nearest house, and that's it - then back at her. "We're not gonna get any trick-or-treaters." Then he shrugs. "More candy for us."

"More candy for you," she corrects, linking her arm through his. He smells good, like earth and charred wood, and she brushes a stray leaf from his shoulder. "I'm only going to have one piece."

"That's what you always say," he grumbles. "And then I look up and the whole bag's gone."

"I don't think that’s ever happened.”

”Selective amnesia.”

“Sounds like an X-file,” she says lightly, and his smile isn’t entirely convincing. One day they’ll be able to joke about it. Eventually enough time will pass. The wounds will scar over, then fade.

One day.

An hour later they're curled up together on the couch, eating fun-size Mars bars and drinking spiked apple cider in their pajamas. A couple of Scully’s pumpkin-scented candles light the dark corners of their living room. It's pleasantly festive.

His hand, which started out resting on Scully’s flannel-clad knee, has gradually wandered up her thigh; it reaches a critical juncture right when Carol Anne gets sucked through the TV, and she smacks him away.

“You made me stop for this movie after an incredibly long day at work, so now we have to watch it,”  she says, but the way her hips curve toward him means that she could be convinced otherwise.

He puts his hand right back where he left off and presses his lips to her ear. ”I’ll make it worth your while,” he says, running his tongue around the curve of her ear.

Apparently Scully doesn’t need much convincing. She climbs into his lap, her knees on either side of his legs, all of her wrapped tightly around him. It’s immediately obvious that he’s been thinking about this for a while, and she leans down to kiss him, nipping at his lower lip and mumbling, “Thatis not fun-size.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” he replies, but he kisses her again, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her even closer. She moans into his mouth, her arms go around his neck—

And then she pulls sharply back. “What the hell was that?” Her eyes dart around the room, then lock on the window even though there’s nothing to see. It’s just as dark outside as it is in the house. “There’s something out there.”

He cocks an eyebrow. ”You’re not getting spooked by the movie, are you?” A thousand years ago they’d watched The Exorcist in some motel somewhere - Georgia, maybe? - and she’d pretended to be scared, and he’d pretended to be fifteen, stretching his right arm out and then letting it rest across her shoulders. He’d pulled her close when she fake-gasped.

But she shakes her head. Which makes sense; they’re well past the point of needing excuses to touch each other. ”I’m serious, Mulder, I heard something."

He mutes the movie and they sit in absolute silence. This time he definitely hears it: the sound of screaming, coming from somewhere outside.

Feeling suddenly like the lead in a slasher flick, Mulder disentangles himself and goes into his office, emerging a minute later with their handgun. (Well, her handgun; for obvious reasons, Mulder can't get a license.) He tries to remember how those movies go. The lead doesn't die, right?

What about the lead's partner? Girlfriends always die in those movies, he's pretty sure. Probably wives too. Partners might be safe. But just to be sure...

"Stay here," he says to Scully, but she just rolls her eyes at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mulder." She shrugs on her coat and follows him outside, grabbing a flashlight off the hall table.

They stand on the porch for a minute, surveying their surroundings. A screech echoes in the darkness, and when they look toward the sound they see flashlights dancing in a copse of trees.

"What the hell?” Mulder barks, but Scully's already out ahead of him, running towards the woods. He calls her name and then follows her. The screaming continues.

And then abruptly stops. The flashlights go out. He catches up to her and they stand together, breathing heavily, staring into the woods.

“Who’s there?” Scully calls.

Silence. Then giggling. A flashlight blinks on, then off, and a voice hisses “turn that off!” and another voice says “shut up!”

Scully sighs. “It’s just kids, Mulder. I’m going back to the house.” She turns and walks away. He considers following her, but instead he continues toward the woods.

The snickering continues. Under his feet branches snap and leaves crackle. He remembers that you’re never supposed to split up.

And then a third voice, slightly louder, says, “Did you hear that?”

“It’s just a squirrel, don’t be stupid.”

“It’s not a squirrel! Squirrels don’t make that much noise, it’s somebody walking—“

“They left, the flashlight’s gone—“

“Then it’s someone else! I told you this place was haunted! Nobody who’s alive would live in that dump.”

Mulder can’t decide whether he thinks that’s funny or offensive, but he’s kind of enjoying the increasing panic in their voices, so he keeps coming closer. And just for good measure - it’s Halloween, after all - he says, “oooooooo” in his ghostliest voice.

Somebody screams. The last voice, again: “I told you!” They’re not whispering anymore.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” says the squirrel one - this kid is the Scully, clearly. “It’s the wind.”

“Oh my God it is not the wind.”

“Somebody turn a flashlight on so we can see.”

“Do you want it to eat us?”

“Do you seriously think that ghosts eat people??”

“Let’s just go,” says the panicky one.

The Scully says, “Not a chance.”

Mulder steps in an extra-thick pile of leaves and crunches them vigorously underfoot. “Oooooo,” he says again, louder.

That’s the final straw. They scream, and then two silhouettes run through the woods, making no attempt to keep quiet.

This is fun, he thinks. He should do this every Halloween.

But the Scully - he should’ve known - the Scully didn’t run away. He hears her mutter, “For fuck’s sake,” and she turns her flashlight on.

Right in his face.

He winces in the bright light and brings his arm up to cover his eyes. Flatly, the girl says, “You’re not a ghost.”

“Uh, no.”

She lowers her flashlight enough that he can see again. She’s maybe fifteen, and she is not impressed. “Is that your house?” she asks, pointing her flashlight towards it.

“…Yeah.”

“What are you even doing out here?”

“What are you doing out here? This is private property.”

The girl shrugs. “It’s Halloween. We’re ghost-hunting. Abby thinks your house is haunted.” And then, with just the tiniest glint of curiosity in her eyes, she adds: “Is it?”

“Not that I know of.” And he’s checked.

“Well, you freaked my friends out. Honestly it’s kind of weird for a grownup to wander around the woods pretending to be a ghost.”

“It’s Halloween,” he retorts. “And we only came out here because we heard you and your friends screaming. Besides, you said you were ghost hunting. Now you can say that you found a ghost.”

“But we didn’t.”

He gestures towards the woods, all the footprints the other kids left behind. “Your friends don’t know that.”

For the first time, she does look impressed. “Huh.”

“I mean, as far as they know, you stayed behind to fight off the ghost.” He shrugs. “You’d look like a badass. That’s all I’m saying.”

She nods. “That’s…kind of awesome. And they’re stupid enough to believe it.” She grins at him. “Thanks for the tip, Mr…”

“Freeling,” Mulder supplies, suppressing his own grin.

“Mr. Freeling,” she repeats slowly, and for a second he thinks she’s going to call him out. “Why not? Well um…I’m gonna try to catch up with my friends. Enjoy being a creepy ghost, I guess.”

“Next year just ring the doorbell,” he says. “We have candy.”

Her eyes go big. “Dude, no one is ever going to trick-or-treat at your house. No offense, but even if it’s not haunted, it’s creepy as shit.” Just for good measure, she repeats, “No offense.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Happy Halloween, kid.”

“You too,” the girl says, and then she’s running off, flashlight bobbing in the dark.

Mulder comes through the door in his socks, muddy shoes abandoned on the front porch. When he tells Scully about the kids in the woods, she just laughs at him. And then she starts picking leaves off his clothes and brushing the dirt from his shoulders, and then he says that he should probably take a shower, and since she was running around in the woods too she might as well join him - and in any case, they don’t finish the movie.

In the middle of the night, Mulder wakes up when he hears more noises from outside the house, but he convinces himself that it’s his imagination. He goes back to sleep, pulling Scully close against him. She snuggles into his arms, and all he can think is how much he likes this house. Maybe it’s creepy - it might even be haunted - but it’s theirs together, which makes it at least a little bit perfect. He dreams of ghosts and snickering teenagers and strange crackling sounds.

And in the morning, the side of the house is covered in gooey, dripping egg.

Mulder cleans it up.