#carve fic

[casdeans-pie]

Dean's ribs are aching.

He presses a hand against his skin, feeling the solid bones under his palm, and tries to imagine the ornate carvings running across them - remembers what the x-ray looked like. But his mind keeps getting stuck on the feeling of Cas's hand, strong and sturdy, in the center of his chest, and the pleasant burn that'd taken his breath away when he'd pressed into him.

A sensation that had been perfectly balanced on the knife-edge of pain and pleasure.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and tugs the scratchy motel sheets closer as he turns over, unable to stop being so aware of it all. A particularly loud snore from the bed next to him tells him that Sam isn't having the same problem.

It only takes another few minutes of Dean gritting his teeth and willing himself to go to sleep before he gives up with an angry sigh.

When he exits the room quietly, hoping to get some air and clear his head, he nearly walks straight into Castiel himself. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelps, then catches his volume, glances at the room behind him, and adds in a hissed whisper, "What are you doing here?"

Cas, for once, looks startled and a little guilty. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice rumbling quietly, "my apologies, I didn't expect anyone to leave the room until the morning."

"Yeah, that doesn't really answer my question, buddy. You were kind of loitering."

Cas shifts his weight a little in a nervous gesture that amuses Dean because it looks almost human. "I've been informed that watching over you while you sleep from your bedside is" - he squints his eyes - "creepy."

Dean can't help the huff of a laugh that escapes him. "'Cause it is."

Cas frowns. "And I can no longer sense either of you due to your sigils, so..."

(Dean presses his hand to his chest, echoes of the pleasure-pain running through his ribs.)

Cas's eyes flick down at the movement, but snap back up before Dean can put a name to the expression that passes over Cas's face. "So I have been watching over you... both of you... from outside your room instead. While I still know your current location," he adds sadly.

"Keeping tabs on us like this is still creepy Cas," Dean says, but there's no heat in it. In fact, he's surprised to realise that he really doesn't mind the idea of Cas watching over him- them.

"I can no longer sense you," Cas repeats, more upset this time.

A blue neon sign for the motel shines from above them, casting a moody blue light over Cas - catching the tips of his messy hair, and lighting up his eyes so that they're almost glowing. He's lit up in a way that reminds Dean of the Angel he really is, and it makes his ribs ache.

Dean grips the shirt over his chest in a tight fist.

Again Cas's gaze flicks down.

"What do they say?" Dean says so quietly it's nearly just a breath.

Cas must understand what Dean means, even though what he said makes no sense, because he replies, "It means you are to be kept away from all the eyes of the Angels, and none have permission to know of your location or gaze upon you." Cas reaches a hand up, suspends it in the air, and then lets it fall back to his side.

Dean feels a pulse race through his bones as he impulsively reaches for Cas's hand and places it on his chest, covering it with his own and pressing it down firmly. Warmth that feels like protection and safety rushes out from where their hands press together.

"I give you my permission," Dean says quietly, into this moment they've created, under the unnatural blue light of the motel sign, and the silent night around them.

Cas's eyes are wide and Dean feels his hand shaking. "You..." he visibly swallows and licks his lips. "You shouldn't say things like that to an Angel, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, too late. I mean it Cas. You've got my permission. And I know that means jack to symbols literally carved onto my bones, but it means you physically checking in with me if you want to know where we are - use your cellphone - and if I text you our motel room, and you're not, y’know, doing rebel Angel stuff, you can be our lookout." Dean feels silly all of a sudden and drops Cas's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of the sweatpants he shoved on before he left the room. "And if I can't sleep, maybe we can talk outside again like tonight. Or whatever."

After a beat of pure silence the light on Cas's face from the sign seems to intensify and Dean can suddenly hear it buzzing.

The handprint on his shoulder pulses in time with the beat of his heart and the ache in his ribs.

"I would like that," Cas rumbles, a gentle smile on his lips.

Dean clears his throat and absentmindedly rubs his chest again. "Okay. Well. Good talk. I should- I should go back to bed- lots of big days coming up- world to save- goodnight, Cas." Dean doesn't want to call what he's doing running away, but he certainly does a good impression of it when he turns around and ducks back into the room.

A soft, "Goodnight, Dean," follows him inside before the door clicks shut behind him.

[kikker-oma]

Art for Chapter 1 of "Travel Through the Darkness" by @mariasparrow ! (Also happy late birthday🎉)

Hope you like it❤️

[abrielarnold]

this isn't quite fanart, but it is mad inspired by @wendywhite13 's twinswap au Bloodletting. (good!legato is everything to me)

(this fic got me to watch True Grit. Roberto and Meryl's dynamic in stampede exists as an homage to Rooster and Mattie, in my heart. me looking at roberto's eyepatch concept art: i know what you are.)

[strangersteddierthings]

Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)

Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.

A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.

Does pumpkin carving take long?

Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.

He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.

Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.

Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...

Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-

"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.

"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.

Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.

Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.

Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.

He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.

Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.

Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.

With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.

"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.

"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."

Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"

"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.

"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.

"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.

God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.

He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.

"Hey man. You okay?"

It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.

"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.

"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"

If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."

Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"

Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.

(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)

"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.

"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.

No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.

"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.

"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.

He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.

"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.

"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.

Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.

Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.

"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."

Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.

Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"

"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.

Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?

"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.

"What?"

"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"

"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."

"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."

"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"

Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.

His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[ihni]

Apologies that Billy Hargrove will never get:

"I'm sorry I left you behind" and "I'm sorry I didn't come back for you" (his mom)

"I'm sorry I hurt you" and "I'm sorry I made you feel worthless" (his dad)

"We're sorry we didn't see or care what was going on with you" and "We're sorry we didn't do anything to help you" (his teachers)

"I'm sorry I just stood by and watched" and "I'm sorry I looked the other way when you were hurt" (Susan)

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble with your dad" and "I'm sorry I didn't notice how he used me against you" (Max)

"I'm sorry I acted inappropriatly towards you" and "I'm sorry I treated you as a piece of meat when you're just a boy the same age as my daughter" (Mrs. Wheeler)

"I'm sorry I lied to you" and "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about everything that was going on" (Steve)

"We're sorry we only saw you as a monster when you were a victim" and "We're sorry we didn't try harder to save you" (the Party)

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that" and "I'm sorry you didn't have anyone to turn to when you needed help" (me)

[justaz]

even tho merlin constantly complains about tournaments and arthur goes on and on about glory and honor, merlin is always the loudest in the stands and arthur always finds merlin’s eye first when he wins

[rileyh20]

I know this is late, but hear me out

Somewhere in a forest near the Curtis house, there is just a random place that is full of pumpkins

So, every year, Johnny and Ponyboy go over and snatch a few pumpkins to carve

Eventually, everyone else starts to come too and it becomes a tradition!

[hollow-head]

I wanted a new, simple, non computer oriented hobby to do in the middle of the night, and decided to take up wood carving, because I am an old man. I started on an elephant, which is now vaguely elephant shaped, and whose name is Lumpy.

I just used chisels but i got a dremel too. Good thing about elephants is they're easy to approximate. Everyone knows what they look like. They're one of the platonic solids. But I am enjoying this hobby a lot, even though I have invented new uncomfortable ways to sit.

[hoofpeet]

‘I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me’ energy

[beetlesanbutterflies]

When are we going to realize the potential of a Lisa Frankenstein Grace/Max AU?

I didn’t see it at first cause I could NOT see Max as having lived in the 1800s. But my sibling said they think Max would be a jock from the 80s that gets resurrected in modern day.

I think they have real potential. Grace’s religious beliefs and how seeing a reanimated corpse would make her question the after life ( When she finds out that Max was resurrected by lighting questioning if it was an act of God or the Devil (fascinated by the idea that Grace thinks Max is Angel cause only god could being the dead back(ask me about this later) ))

Their personalities are definitely swapped with Lisa and Creature. Grace is a lot more proper and Max is more in your face.

Max “who will pray of me”Jagerman dying, and no one ever visits his grave cause he was an asshole in school and his parents were deadbeats. And Grace being the good Christian she is visits unattended graves to pray for them.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

What if I wrote another Slasher!Soap scenario?

What if it took place in a forest where you were being chased down like a unruly animal?

What if his manic laugh could be heard behind you as you try to escape his clutches?

What if you trip and fall only to be pinned down further by his hulking mass as he cuts away the only barrier separating your wet hole and his aching cock?

What then huh?

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

The Carved Skull (Part 1)

(In which Lilith adjusts to the Imperium and Rogal Dorn finds out his niece shares a hobby with him)

Tags: Bone carving, mentions of an Astartes getting maimed, brief mention of death, and explorations of Baal culture

Folk: @sirpuddingcup @jaghatai-khock

(Note: Kakek is Indonesian for Grandfather)

It had been a year since Lilith arrived on Terra and she still didn’t really like the Adeptus Astartes. They smelled wrong. Chemicals, drugs, and a certain unnatural scent that she had yet to become used to. She didn’t understand how her father seemed to accept them so quickly and she had no regrets about scratching the face of one of Horus’ Luna Wolves. She didn’t really know what his name was, something like Ulysses or something of the sort; she hadn’t really paid attention. What was nice was that they’d stopped trying to get so close to her. She greatly preferred that, though Sanguinius had been trying to get her to play with some neophytes. She wasn’t entirely sure of them, for she was used to having to be careful due to her claws and teeth.

One wrong move and she could kill someone, even if it’s by accident. She was uncertain. However, she’d quickly grown close to Malcador, a man she had come to see the same way as the elders of the Blood. Mentor and Grandfather both, with Malcador seeming to like it when she called him Kakek, a baalite word often used for Grandfathers, though Lilith had never had one to give the name to for her mother’s father had long since passed. 

Certainly she had the Emperor as a grandfather, but she was forced to call him that in Gothic, never in her native tongue and besides he was nothing close to being that in her eyes. Not after her mother’s death. Thus she often said it very impersonally compared to Malcador. Which was what had led to her carving a skull with intricate designs, designs that came quickly to her. After all, she’d had many lessons over the years on how to carve bones, it was just something the Blood did. Lilith didn’t understand why the Imperium had such plain bones. It was tasteless, for those were the bones of something living once; they deserved to be adorned unless of course they’d done some terrible crime. Then they got no markings at all.

Perhaps that’s why so many bones were unadorned…? But no that couldn’t be right because Kakek had said that the Servos Skulls were an honourable thing. It didn’t make a lick of sense to her, but not much really did about this place. So she just busied herself about making Malcador a Servo skull that was properly honoured. Maybe she’ll be done by time this is over and she’ll be able to give it to him when the next time comes for when he teaches her Gothic. She liked her little lessons with him, even if she didn’t always understand the words he spoke, though she caught on quickly. She was told it was because she was the daughter of a primarch that she learned things so quickly. Kakek said that he’d explain what a primarch was when she was older. She decided to hold him to it.

In the meantime, she would carve. She carved alone for a while, before she heard heavy footsteps and the strong scent of oil, metal and cured furs signaled the approach of Rogal Dorn, her Uncle. Lilith was not exactly sure what to think of her father’s brothers; they were strange and she stiffened as Dorn approached her. He made a small rumbling noise in his throat, an indication of wanting to see what she was doing. It was easier after all, until she fully learned Gothic, most of her uncles communicated to her in this way. She understood well enough, and showed him the skull she was carving to which Dorn’s eyes widened and a warm smile appeared on his normally quite unsmiling face. 

The Skull was handed back to her, and he left, only to momentarily return with his own carving tools and sat across from her to carve as well. She looked on curiously, and watched as he carved what looked like a ram..? She thinks that’s what they’re called, she’s not entirely certain. It’s different from her swirling patterns and little runes, though she noticed the additions of circles and some lines here and there. It was fascinating and she relaxed slightly, allowing her wings to fluff as she returned to her own carving. 

Dorn for his part enjoys that he’s found that his niece likes to carve bone, and catches the sigh of a smile that shows off her fangs. So that was what Sanguinius meant when he’d said that she’d been smiling smaller than usual. He hopes she grows more comfortable and smiles more naturally, for he thinks he’s going to come to rather like his little niece with her bone carving far beyond that of which Dorn expected of someone her age. Besides it was nice to simply carve in silence, and look up to see her carving runes that he supposed must mean something in her culture. After all, she and Sanguinius had come wearing light yet elaborate clothing that had generally covered their faces and heads. Dorn had been rather taken aback by it, with Sanguinius’ amber almost golden eyes that were remarkably like the Emperor’s yet somehow nothing like them, and Lilith’s rather vivid reds like that of freshly spilled blood. Still, his brother had quickly adapted, having been taken beneath Horus’ wing, and Lilith… Dorn wasn’t sure about Lilith. He’d seen her around Malcador, and had even heard her calling him something in her native tongue, but she rarely spoke. Not to mention the whole thing with the poor Luna wolf who’d had to have his face surgically put back on. Nerves he thought. She seemed not to like them, and from what Dorn had seen, was quite aggressive. 

Still she was much calmer now, and Sanguinius expressed hope that she’d bond well with her new brothers. Personally Dorn thought the sooner she did the happier she’d be, because she was still just a child, and one that seemed to enjoy playfully pouncing on people if the times Sanguinius had been playfully lept on was any indication. It reminded him much how a young cat or wolf would play, with how she pounced on her father. She could use some proper playmates. Baselines probably wouldn’t be all that safe considering what she can do to an astartes, but he figured she deserved a little bit of fun, even if soon she would likely be trained as a warrior. At least he assumed she would be, considering her impressive height even at this young age. Dorn strongly suspected she was like her father and himself, however the hell that worked and thus he thought it rather redundant if Lilith wasn’t to be a warrior to fight in the crusade. Maybe he’ll see if she’d be interested in learning how to clean a bolter later. That sounds like a good idea. 

[eri-pl]

Silm Advent calendar 4: Beard*

Warnings: sort of a small panic attack in PoV. Implications of… well, we are seeing Celebrimbor post-reembodiment. So you can estimate. But only implications.

"I wish I could see them again," said Celebrimbor. "The Dwarves, I mean." It was still somewhat strange to speak with words.

Mahtan smiled. "I wish I could see one of them too."

Right. Great-grandfather hadn't ever met any of the Khazad, obviously. Because he had enough common sense to not leave. Obviously. Celebrimbor looked at him. "I'm sorry."

Mahtan laughed and continued leading him down the stony corridors of Lord Aulë's mansion.

Assuming that he could continue the conversation, Celebrimbor said "I've always wondered, and Narvi too—how it is with beards? Are they something Lord Aulë invented, or...?" He trailed off. It seemed a stupid question.

And yet, his great-grandfather was not offended. He stroked his own—meticulously braided— beard, and spoke. "I've always assumed it was his thing, as I had not grown mine before I became his apprentice. But now of course they say the Men have those too— they do, right? It's not another thing Pengolodh made up?"

"Oh yes, they do have beards. Some quite impressive."

They went down another set of stairs, the corridor was windowless and illuminated with lamps. It felt like home, but safer.

"Mhm. See, Tyelpe, we're somewhat secluded here. Nor Tuor, nor of course Earendil had one, so... Anyway, I'm sure you'll grow it eventually."

"I don't— I mean, the fact that I could work with— Despite everything— It's just so much more than I could ever deserve."

Mahtan laughed again—a deep, rolling laughter that felt in place in those stone halls. "You will need to get accustomed to working with people who aren't— nasty."

The forge noises became louder, discouraging further dialogue. Not long after, they reached an arched gate, leading to a huge workshop, where Maiar and Elves worked, and of course, in the center, the Smith himself.

All the hammers stopped and the room went silent. Celebrimbor bowed deeply, barely daring to look at the Vala.

Lord Aulë smiled. "Come, you two. Mahtan, my friend, we've moved your things already. Tyelperinquar, I'm so glad to see you. I— I still don't understand your kind well, but Mahtan said you won't be offended— it is the best workplace after all." As the two Elves came closer, he spoke more quietly. "As an apology."

In the centre of the forge, next to Lord Aulë's huge, carved stone workbench with mithril top, stood two others, smaller, but even more ornate. One, to which Mahtan walked and began checking the tools, was made of bright white stone carved in intricate geometric patterns, parts of which seemed moveable. The other one — apparently meant for Celebrimbor — was a gold square design of perfect four-fold symmetry, with the tools sorted by size and type. While not dusted—nothing in Aman was—it was long unused, judging from types of the tools. There was a peculiar beauty to it, like—

His head went light and he grasped the edge of the golden table— than let it go immediately— if that was to be his apology, he'd have to bear it— he was better now, after years in Mandos—and yet, the very memory—

Mahtan held him like he used to do when Tyelpe was a small boy visiting his forge with the same fascination as his father and grandfather before.

"Shhh. It's all right. It is all right—" he repeated louder. "He will get over it, just give us a moment." He turned his face back to Celebrimbor, whispering: "It's all right. You don't have to, if you don't want to."

"But…. My apology—"

Great-grandfather held him tighter. "Not your apology, Tyelpe. Lord Aulë meant it as his apology to you. He felt like he owed it, especially as there's nobody else to apologize to you now, I think. But let's not get there. It is— we both thought that it would be a kind of justice to give it to you. I'm sorry. You don't have to."

The tightnes in Celebrimbor's chest slowly dissipated. "No, I— I appreciate it, and it would make him so angry and that's good, just— could I maybe reorder it a little. Not much, just…."

He spoke softly, unsure if it was worse to ask Lord Aulë if he could change the designs of his Maia (well, back then), or to talk in private when he was nearby. but apparently it was not soft enough, as the Vala replied him.

"Of course. You can change anything you like. It's yours."

A few days of work later, when Aulë again returned to his forge, he looked at Celebrimbor's workbench—now not as perfectly symmetrical, and carved in rows of Dwarven runes.

He smiled. "It looks alive. I missed it."

[steddieunderdogfics]

For the fall activities Monday: Steady as the morning by @becomingfoxes

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/60219985)

This one has it all: Pumpkin carving, campfires, scary stories, and copious amounts of fluff. 🥰

Steady as the Morning by BecomingFoxes

@becomingfoxes

Rating: Explitic

9,142 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Mutual Pining, get in dingus we're going to the pumpkin patch, Pumpkin carving, Halloween, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Panic Attacks, just a little, Fluff, Getting Together, Frottage

Summary:

Steve has never carved a pumpkin before. Eddie is determined to change that. And maybe they figure out a few things along the way. 🎃🧡🎃

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics about Fall activities.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[supernovasilence]

Edmund actually made it halfway across the room before Caspian was on him. Caspian had been sprawled out on the wide window seat, sulking, though, so he’d had some distance to cover.

Caspian wrapped his arms around Edmund and kissed his mouth and then his hair.

“You’re back,” he said delightedly.

“Well, obviously,” Edmund said. “Can you let go a moment? I need to put your present down.”

“Let it fall. I want to hold you.” Caspian wormed his arms a little closer around Edmund.

“It’ll break. I was only gone one day,” Edmund laughed. “You’re utterly hopeless.”

“You were gone all day, and you left before I woke.” Caspian planted another smack on Edmund’s mouth. “There. That is good morning.” Another kiss. “And that is good afternoon.”

read on ao3 | read on ffn

who wants Casmund fluff with a side of Caspian has abandonment issues? get your Casmund fluff here! 1k words, established relationship, nobody has to leave narnia au!

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump collab day 18 - too weak to move

Hi yep I’m still working on febuwhump XD I’ve got two more fics after this in fact! Expect the next one up either later today or tomorrow >:)

This was suggested by an anon, thank you! They wanted Warriors or Sky, so I kinda did both. It ended up taking a turn I didn’t expect, but I hope you like it.

Warnings: Heat exhaustion, a brief discussion about infertility

Today’s lovely art

Ao3 link

————————————————————

“Aunt Sun! Aunt Sun Aunt Sun where’d you go we need you!”

Sun looked up from the lemonade she was mixing, and saw Wind run into the kitchen, almost tripping on his flip-flops but catching himself.

“Aunt Sun!” he gasped, and Sun looked at him in surprise.

“What’s the matter Wind? Did Sky and Warriors finally get tired of hucking snowballs at each other?” she asked, leaning on the counter. “I’m all for a snow day, but it’s just too hot to be out there, even with snow.”

“No, no they didn’t, b-but Warriors was making a really big snowball and then he fell over and now he won’t get up, and Uncle Sky told me to get you,” Wind stuttered, and Sun froze, then immediately dropped what she was doing.

“Lead the way,” she said quickly, and followed Wind outside, the heat hitting her like a physical weight.

The area was suffering through a horrible heat wave, and everyone was desperate to cool down, in any way they could manage. Warriors had brought Wind over to hang out with Aryll for a while, and offered to generate some snow for a snowball fight. It had helped a lot with staying cool, but Sun had gotten to the point where she hadn’t been able to handle the heat any longer, even with snow, and she’d gone in to mix up a more reliable way of cooling down.

She was wondering now if she should’ve stayed out, though.

Wind led her to the backyard, where several rapidly melting piles of slush lay, Sky kneeling among them and apparently uncaring of how wet he was getting. Aryll sat next to him, her eyes wide, and Warriors lay collapsed beside them both, parts of him pale while others were flushed with heat.

A sharp spark of fear hit Sun’s chest.

“What happened?” she asked quickly as she kneeled down beside the two, Sky frantically shading Warriors with one wing while the other fanned air towards him.

“I don’t know, he was just making some more snow, and then all of a sudden he just...” Sky gestured helplessly, and Sun leaned over Warriors, unsure of where to start.

“He sleeping?” Aryll asked in confusion, and Wind picked her up, looking shaken.

“I don’t think so Aryll,” he said quietly.

Warriors’ eyes flickered open then, and they all leaned forward to look at him, his expression confused as he blinked up at them all.

“Wh’ happened?” he mumbled, and twitched a little like he was trying to sit up. He didn’t make it more then maybe an inch though, and Sky and Sun both pushed him back down, Wind and Aryll looking on with wide eyes.

“You just collapsed Wars, take it easy,” Sky said worriedly, still fanning him. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

It took Warriors a moment to respond, all of them watching him carefully. And when he did finally speak, his voice was unusually quiet and raspy.

“...dunno,” he murmured, blinking dizzily at them all. “Sort of... s-sick, I-I guess...”

Sky leaned over and put a hand on Warriors’ forehead, and the worry on his face sharpened.

“...you feel warm. Warriors, you’re never warm,” he said in a voice that was on the verge of panicking.

“‘parently I am today,” Warriors slurred, looking dizzy as he closed his eyes again.

Sun tugged Sky’s hand out of the way so she could feel Warriors’ forehead as well, and she frowned at the heat that met her fingers. Warriors wasn’t burning up or anything, but for someone who always ran cold, the fact that he was warm to the touch at all was worrying in more ways than one.

Sun made quick eye contact with Sky, and the look on his face confirmed her own thoughts.

He pushed himself too far.

“Wind, would you take Aryll inside and get a wet washcloth? There’s some clean ones next to the sink,” Sun said, and Wind nodded and went back into the house, Aryll still looking back with a curious look. “We should get him inside, it’ll be cooler in there.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea,” Sky said with worry thick in his voice, and Sun gave his hand a quick squeeze.

Sun then helped him sit Warriors up, his head lolling a bit. They each pulled one of his arms over their shoulders, Sky pulling his wings in, and lifted him up, slowly carrying him inside. Warriors didn’t move much during all this, looking blearily around as they moved him, and the lack of anything else only worried Sun more.

Normally Warriors would’ve cracked a stupid joke by now, or at least reassured them he was okay, especially earlier with Wind and Aryll watching. Instead all he did was remain slumped in their arms, and Sun and Sky wasted no time in bringing him into the house.

They laid Warriors on their couch, Aryll watching curiously from the floor, and Wind returned after a minute with a wet cloth like Sun had asked. She quickly wiped it over Warriors’ face, dripping it in his hair and dampening his skin, then placed it on his forehead.

“Is he okay?” Wind asked once she’d finished, and Sky ruffled his hair.

“We think he just overheated a bit buddy. He should just need to take it easy,” Sky reassured, though Sun could still see the worry plastered all over his face.

“Can I help at all?” Wind asked, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Sun looked at her nephew, and nodded, seeing the worry bright in his eyes.

“Yes, I think you’re exactly who we need,” she said kindly, and gestured him over. “Would you blow a bit of air on Warriors? It doesn’t have to be a lot, but it’ll help him cool down faster.”

“Yeah, I can do that!” Wind said eagerly, then sat down in the chair beside Warriors, blowing a gentle breeze through the air.

Warriors shifted as the air brushed him, and he let out a quiet sigh, turning his head towards the breeze. Sun and Sky watched him in silence for a moment, and Aryll wobbled over and poked her head up by Warriors’, smiling when the air blew past her own face as well.

“Sleep?” she said, poking him with a chubby hand, and Sky tugged her away.

“...yes, he’s resting right now pumpkin, so let’s leave him alone, okay?” he said, and Aryll blinked, Sky gently pulling her back from her uncle’s side.

He picked Aryll up and set her over by some of her toys, trying to get her distracted, and Sun busied herself with wiping the cloth over Warriors’ face again, feeling his skin. Still too warm.

She held back a sigh, watching Warriors’ hair be tousled by the breeze Wind was making. Warriors and Sky had both been the ones to push themselves the most back during their hero days, often further then they should... but while just playing with his family, Warriors never gone so far as to pass out.

Something must be up.

Sky came back after a little while, Aryll happily stacking some blocks, and he looked down at his brother, still motionless and pale.

“Should we call a doctor?” he asked quietly, and Sun hesitated.

“...I don’t know. It seems like he’s just too hot, and I don’t think they’d be able to do anything for him that we can’t,” Sun said finally, wiping the cloth over Warriors’ forehead again. “Let’s give him a little while.“

“Alright. We should probably call Artemis though,” Sky mused, and Warriors cracked his eyes open.

“Don’ need to,” he murmured. “She doesn’t... need more problems. Leave ‘er be.”

Sun and Sky both raised their eyebrows at that, and Wind paused in his blowing, giving Warriors an odd look.

“Warriors... you’re not a problem. Especially not to Artemis,” Sun said, and Warriors closed his eyes, not replying.

Sky frowned.

“...Have you had any water to drink today Wars?” he asked suddenly, voice suspicious.

“I guess..? ‘lil...” Warriors mumbled after a moment of silence, and Wind looked down at him worriedly. “Don’... really remember...”

“So you spent the hottest day of the year making snowballs in our backyard, and you haven’t had any water all day. Is that what I’m hearing?” Sky asked with a bit of a bite to his voice. “Did you just forget you get dehydrated when you use your powers too much?!”

“I don’t know,” Warriors murmured. “...sorry.”

The fight went out of Sky all at once, and he sighed, wiping some sweat off his brow. He lightly nudged Warriors with a wing, and didn’t say anything for a moment, obviously thinking.

Sun decided to cut in. “Well you should drink something now, you need to get all that water you used up back in you, and it’ll help cool you down,” she pointed out, and Warriors gave a small nod.

“I can get him some!” Wind offered, and hopped off his chair, running into the kitchen before anyone else could offer to go.

Sun and Sky watched him scamper off, then turned back to Warriors, who was trying to sit himself up again. His arms shook, and Sky quickly grabbed him before he could fall, helping him up without a word.

Warriors leaned his head back once he was sitting upright, and closed his eyes, his face worn. Sun studied him for a moment, fixing the cloth when it tried to slide off. Warriors looked tired, but in more ways then one, a weariness apart from dehydration and overheating evident on his face.

Adding that to how he’d overused his powers, forgotten to drink anything during the worst heatwave they’d had in years, and his reaction at the mention of his wife...

“Warriors... is everything alright with you and Arty?” she asked finally, looking at her brother in-law.

Warriors remained silent, his face creasing a bit further, and Sky and Sun gave each other looks.

Hit the nail on the head it seems.

“Alright Wars. Something’s eating at you. You never push yourself like this unless you’re really out of it, or something’s wrong,” Sky said as he sat down beside him, and Warriors softly huffed.

“Do not.”

“Do too. And I can think of at least three times off the top of my head,” Sky said pointedly. “Come on. What’s going on with you and Artemis?”

Warriors stilled, and the quiet buzz of the ceiling fan was the only noise in the room for a few moments. It was occasionally punctuated by Aryll’s giggling and the sound of Wind clattering around in the kitchen looking for a cup, and Sun was about to threaten to call Artemis and ask her for answers when Warriors let out a sigh.

“Things’ve just... been hard,” he said, voice still faint. “We’re okay, we haven’t... fought ‘r anything, but...”

He hesitated, then exhaled again.

“...We’ve been trying so hard,” Warriors murmured, eyes still closed. “For kids. But we...”

Sky put his hand on his shoulder, and Warriors swallowed.

“...I don’t know. Maybe it’s a sign we’re just not meant to be parents,” he whispered.

“Warriors, don’t talk like that,” Sun said softly, her heart falling at the grief in his voice. “You and Arty will be wonderful parents.”

Warriors didn’t reply, and Sun put her hand on his other shoulder, wishing she knew what else to say.

“Overextending yourself isn’t going to fix anything Wars,” Sky said softly, drawing his wings in. “This... this isn’t your fault. You can’t punish yourself for things outside your control.”

Warriors seemed to droop further where he sat, and his eyes remained stubbornly closed.

“I want... to fix it,” he said in a voice so quiet Sun could barely hear it. “But I can’t. It’s a problem I can’t... solve, and Arty’s suffering for it.”

“And it isn’t your fault,” Sun reminded him. “You can’t control this Warriors, and you’re suffering just as much as Arty is. Don’t minimize that.”

Warriors stilled, and Sun fixed the wet cloth on his forehead where it had fallen slightly.

“I’m sorry Link,” Sky said quietly. “I knew you two were struggling with it, but I didn’t realize...”

“It’s all right,” Warriors murmured, and Sky squeezed his shoulder.

“Still. If there’s anything you two need... just ask, okay? We’re here to help Wars, but we can’t if you don’t let us.”

“Or if you make bad decisions such as creating too much snow in the worst heatwave I can remember,” Sun added, and Warriors’ mouth twitched into a faint smile.

“I’m already... regretting that, trust me.”

Sun smiled back, and Warriors finally opened his eyes, looking between the two of them. He still looked unusually subdued, but he seemed a little better then before, and Sun counted it as a win.

“We should let Artemis know you collapsed though,” Sun said, brushing some hair out of her face with a sigh. “And somebody is going to have to drive you home... then maybe we can discuss this a little more. But right now you need to rest, and focus on cooling down.”

Warriors sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Sun gave his shoulder a squeeze, then withdrew it, resolving to bring things up with Artemis next time they had some time to talk. If Warriors was feeling this badly, she could only imagine how Artemis was doing.

“I got your water!”

All three adults looked up as Wind finally walked back into the room, carefully holding a mug in his hands and looking a little frazzled.

“I couldn’t reach your water cups and I didn’t want to break them by blowing them so I just got a mug cause it’s basically a cup, and I know this one is kind of weird but I it was the first one I found,” Wind rambled, and looked at Warriors anxiously. “Are... are you feeling better, Warriors?”

Warriors took the garishly colored mug with a trembling hand, then took a long sip of water. Some color seemed to come back to his face as he drank, and when he lowered the mug, he gave Wind a small smile.

“Yeah bud, I am,” he said quietly as he looked at his hands. “Sorry for scaring you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Wind said quickly, then climbed up on Sky so he could be next to Warriors. “Just... don’t do that again.”

Warriors let out a soft chuckle. “No promises. But I’ll do my best.”

Wind flicked a puff of air at Warriors’ face with a grumpy huff, but after a moment he went back to blowing a soft breeze at him like he had earlier, looking relieved.

Warriors relaxed as it hit him, and closed his eyes, looking much better then he had before.

Sky gave Warriors’ shoulder one more gentle nudge, but didn’t say anything further, and Sun got up to go phone Artemis. Wind started in on some kind of story about what one of his brothers had done recently, Aryll toddling back over to sit beside them and listen, and Sun looked back and watched them for a moment, a somewhat sad smile on her face.

Then she headed for the phone, Aryll’s giggles following her.