#there is a foot of snow outside and it is in the process of rapidly melting

[cyanide-latte]

💬

He wakes, suddenly and without knowing why. He is already up and moving, sliding out of his bed and crossing his room as fast as he can without running, trying to discern what could have woken him and with such a sense of urgency coursing through his limbs and his rapidly beating heart.

Was it a sound? But if so, what sound? If anything, the house seems a little too quiet. And it certainly isn't the excitement for the weekend and his inevitable twelfth birthday celebration. A quick glance at a digital clock on one of the small ornamental tables, backlit without being too bright, indicates it is barely fifteen minutes until the turn of the hour to two in the morning. So…what woke him?

Troubled, Ren walks faster and faster through the house, and his question is answered in moments as he stumbles upon the open front door, blowing in icy air. His heart speeds up further as he sees the figure of his father standing at the end of the house’s stone walk in his sleepwear, looking around outside.

“Dad?” Ren calls out to him.

No response.

Hesitating, worrying that to step out of the house entirely while the door is open is to invite dire trouble, Ren tries again to call his father. But this time he forces himself to move forward, to step outside and approach him.

Wei Shun continues to glance around, and as Ren draws close, he can see his father's gaze is half-lidded, unfocused. Sleepwalking? His father doesn't have a history of sleepwalking, though. And even if he’s asleep, his expression is strange. He looks like he’s searching for something.

Ren hesitates again. He knows you shouldn't try to wake a sleepwalker, but he’s nervous and he doesn't want his dad to get hurt. He tries to look around, to see if he can get any idea of what brought Wei Shun out here, but to no avail. Just the other houses and buildings, their small street, the quiet, thick blanket of white snow. It looks innocent and peaceful, the same as any other night in the winter in Upper Bàoyìng.

Though he does feel an itch between his shoulder blades, like they're being watched. Ren doesn't like it. It kicks something inside him into action, and he gently places a hand on his father's upper arm.

“Dad,” he says again, firmly and loud enough it seems to echo among the snow. “Dad? It's Ren.”

There is a tense eternity as he watches his father blink rapidly and frown, like he's trying to process something muffled and distant. After a moment, Wei Shun groans and presses a hand to his forehead, curling in on himself slightly like he's struggling with an abrupt migraine.

When he blinks again, his eyes are clearer and they clear further when he looks down at Ren. Recognition sets in and he offers him a tired, fond smile.

“My little phoenix…” he says, removing his hand from his forehead to squeeze Ren’s shoulder. But the next second he's looking around with a troubled frown again. “Why are we…outside? In the middle of the night?”

“I think you were sleepwalking,” Ren answers, uncertainty creeping into his voice. “Were you having a dream?”

Wei Shun’s next words chill him worse than the cold outside: “I'm not sure. I thought I heard something calling to me.”

Ren doesn't know what to make of that, but he wants to get inside immediately. He can feel the sensation of eyes watching them again, and he gingerly pulls on his father's arm to get him to go back into the house. Thankfully, his dad comes along without argument or issue, and once inside he locks the door behind them, tight.

“I'm sorry for troubling you, my phoenix. Go back to sleep. It's alright. You did well.”

Trying to get back to sleep is difficult, and when he does, his dreams are troubled.

Five days later, only a day or two after his birthday, Ren wakes in the night again. This time he feels pure panic, and he makes no effort to stay quiet or calm as he finds himself racing through the house, propelled by fear.

But he's too late this time. The door stands wide open, and his father's footprints are already getting covered by the falling snow.

Frightened, truly frightened for one of the only moments in his memory, Ren bolts back inside, racing to find his mother still asleep in his parent's bed. Desperately he shakes Wei Yawen awake, frantically explaining the situation to her.

An alarm is raised throughout Upper Bàoyìng. His youngest uncle, Wei Gang, the current leader of their people, organizes a search with a troubled vengeance. Several family members come to talk to them, many to comfort Wei Yawen and keep vigil with her, and Ren’s cousin, Wei Xinyi, sits with him until the adrenaline leaves him exhausted and he passes out next to them, murmuring in his sleep that he still feels like something unfriendly is watching them.

He never sees his father again.

—————

Thank you, Anon! I've been wanting to write this memory of Wei Renqiao's for quite a while, especially since it plants a long-term seed for the events that lead to his eventual Overblot.

Taglist: @blithesharem @tixdixl @ramshacklerumble @inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children

@rainesol @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter (message me if you want to be added to the taglist for my TWST OC stuff!)

[modanon]

Lumina Crookneck Wizard Idea stolen from Kruggsmash

Whole homebrew Pathfinder race undercut if anyone wants that Homebrew race stuff pulled from here

Pumpkinheads

Standard power level

Plant (10 RP) Medium (0 RP) Low Speed (-1 RP)

Standard Ability Score Modifiers (0 RP) Dexterity +2 Constitution +2 Charisma -2

Standard Language Quality (0 RP) Low-Light Vision (1 RP) Cold Vulnerability (-2 RP) Fearless (1 RP) Glow (1 RP)

=========

Plant (10 RP)

This type encompasses humanoid-shaped vegetable creatures. Note that regular plants, such as those found in ordinary gardens and fields, lack Wisdom and Charisma scores and are not creatures, but objects, even though they are alive. A plant race has the following features.

Plants have the low-light vision racial trait. Plants are immune to all mind-affecting effects (charms, compulsions, morale effects, patterns, and phantasms). Plants are immune to paralysis, poison, polymorph, sleep effects, and stunning. Plants breathe and eat, but do not sleep, unless they want to gain some beneficial effect from this activity. This means that a plant creature can sleep in order to regain spells, but sleep is not required to survive or stay in good health.

Low-Light Vision (1 RP): Prerequisites: None; Benefit: Members of this race can see twice as far as a race with normal vision in conditions of dim light.

Cold Vulnerability (-2 RP): Prerequisites: Plant; Weakness: When exposed to Winter weather conditions for at least an hour, Strength checks are halved.

Fearless (1 RP): Prerequisites: None; Benefit: Members of this race gain a +2 racial bonus on all saving throws against fear effects. Special: This bonus stacks with the bonus granted by the lucky (greater or lesser) racial trait.

Glow (1 RP): Prerequisites: Pumpkinhead; Benefit: Members of this race create a 10 foot area of dim light around them in the dark.

=========

-Where does your race tend to live and why?

Pumpkinheads hail from the Autumn kingdom. They are not a particularly widespread race, preferring to stick to the temperate (between low 70s and low 40s with minimal snow and rain fall) forests and plains of the Autumn kingdom. While other races may struggle with the inability to grow many crops due to the climate, Pumpkinheads, being plants, can survive easily on what they can grow and forage in addition to their own pumpkin livestock. While they can process meat and dairy, Pumpkinheads prefer bones and blood to gain such nutrients.

It's only been within the past 30 years that Pumpkinheads have begun to travel and immigrate outside of the Autumn kingdom. They're still a rare sight outside the strip of land on the south side of the Darkwoods Mountains that comprises the Autumn kingdom.

-What does your race look like? How does the members' appearance help them adapt to their typical environment?

Pumpkinheads avoid traveling to much cooler temperatures due to being plant life. When temperatures become too cold, they will wither and enter a temporary hibernation state until warmed up. While they can die in this state, it would take many months of intense cold for the body to finally die. They dislike intense heat, but they can weather it better with additional water.

Pumpkinfolk possess magic, specifically the ability to trans-mutate other pumpkins. This is the origin of their pumpkin livestock, and how they reproduce. Pumpkinhead reproduction requires two Pumpkinheads and three plain pumpkins. One of these will need to be carved with a face, one will become the torso, and the other will be used to create the vines that form a Pumpkinfolk's limbs.

Pumpkinheads start life as the equivalent of a young human child, and age rapidly after creation. They reach physical adulthood after about 3 years, and their age of majority is 5. Pumpkinheads live for about 20 years after creation. An elderly Pumpkinhead will be softer as they near the end of their life. You can tell a Pumpkinfolk has died as the vines that form their limbs will shrivel up and fall from the pumpkins that form their body.

Pumpkinheads notably glow with dim light from inside their faces in darkness.

-What is your race's history? Does it have a creation myth? Were there pivotal events in the race's history?

The exact creation of Pumpkinheads can actually be tracked to the day. Originally, they were created by a powerful witch, Lavinia, who followed the teachings of Baba Yaga seeking to live unbothered while she attempted to gain greater powers. In order to deter those who would seek to destroy her, she created pumpkin golems to serve as her own private army. Settlements of the Autumn kingdom reported sightings of these pumpkins in the distance. Whether the witch was slain or simply moved on from the Autumn kingdom is lost to Pumpkinhead kind. Whatever happened, these golems were left behind. Left unchecked, the magic grew within the golems as they slowly gained their own sentience. Slowly, they began to form their own settlements.

Pumpkinheads today are recognized as a native race of the Autumn kingdom. They are one of only three races recognized as such (Strangelings (Catfolk, Batfolk, Ratfolk), Boogeymen, and Pumpkinheads).

The most famous Pumpkinhead was a Medium, Mosch Ambercup, who was often consulted by heros seeking to quest in the Darkwoods Mountains beyond the Autumn kingdom. Most notably, he foretold of an undead army attempting to march on Aureas from beyond the mountains in an attempt to seize a priceless artifact housed there: the awakened cauldron, Elias, used by the Pumpkinfolk and visitors alike to enhance potions. Thanks to this forewarning, the Pumpkinheads were able to send for help from nearby Strangeling and Human settlements and defeat the undead hordes. It was a difficult battle, many lives were lost, and over half of Aureas and several Pumpkinhead and Strangeling villages in the warpath were burned down. Mosch gained notoriety as a prophet, at which point, he disappeared, possibly captured, possibly dead, possibly just hiding in the mountains to avoid the pressure of being a celebrated prophet.

-What kinds of relationships does your race have with other races? Does it have allies? Competitors? Enemies? Hated foes?

Pumpkinheads are a non-confrontational race despite their origins. They tend to keep good relations with other races for trading purposes. They have very little contact with non native races aside from humans, who have settlements towards the outskirts of the Autumn kingdom. Their largest settlement is a Pumpkinhead city, Aureas, to the Northern part of the Aumun kingdom. Certain villages have had trouble with feral Strangelings or aggressive humans, but these are not widespread problems.

Following the Darkwoods Raid, the Pumpkinfolk, Strangelings, and a few Human settlements forged a loose government, the Golden Council, comprised of the leaders, or other representatives, of the various villages that meet yearly.

-What classes does your race tend to favor?

Pumpkinfolk tend to favor fighter and ranger with a smaller population of wizards, clerics, and gunslingers. There are a few notable alchemists, specifically in Aureas.

[smeraldos]

In Which You Meet a Wizard Without Knowing

gif: @bts_westv on twitter

↬ characters: taehyung x reader

↬ genres: fantasy, adventure, a 'lil fluff. Howl's Moving Castle!AU

↬ words: 1.5K+

↬ summary: While your sisters dreamt of success and affluence, you stuck to what you knew. It was better that way. Less risky. For any who inquired, your hats went out into the world for you.

What you didn't expect was to encounter a mystery of a man, and along with him, a misadventure for two.

In all his years of drifting, the spirit has never met someone who sought him out. Some took a little coaxing, a little dangling of the fruit, and others took a slight push off the edge, but this.

This boy was ripe for the taking. He wasn’t innocent, no. He knew what he’d come for, and that pleased the spirit. He shrunk himself into the size of a kumquat and leapt into the boy’s hands. 

Once the deed is done, he began, there is no undoing.

The boy told him he knew. He was very solemn about it. He had the face of someone who could have become a great man.

The spirit looked at him with an expression often mistaken for pity. Then he told the boy to swallow him, and the boy’s heart was no more.

The rumors flying about the wizard V are quite sensational. 

They give him flair; an air of dark, beguiling intrigue he does not wish for, yet welcomes all the same. They give him a character to play. And now, he’s landed the part of a dashing escapee, leading his pursuers down a network of sharp turns and secret alleys. 

Ahead, the sun gleams like a penny scrubbed to shine. The sky is sweet and rosy. A guard courts a young lady…how trite. V would have left the two alone had he not noticed the lady, no lure of a smile or blush upon her cheeks.

You back away, your dress blending in with the wall. Your eyes search desperately for an escape, eventually finding his. Well. He sighs. It wasn’t as if he was planning to leave you be. That would be quite heartless.

"I'm late, aren't I?" V asks, announcing his presence. "Forgive me, I lost track of the time. To the theatre?"

You accept his proffered arm, hesitant. He can tell you're a bit wary, and rightly so.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The guard demands, blocking his exit. “The lady and I haven’t finished our talk.”

“With all due respect," V says, suppressing a scoff, "I think you are.”

In an instant, the guard stiffens. His eyes widen. “What--” He starts, but marches off before he can finish.

With that pest gone, V turns his attention back to you...who really can’t be more than twenty. You look dreary in your choice of attire -- gray shawl, gray dress, dull hat over a meek face. If it were not for your stunned look, he’d say you lacked spark. Yet his business lies not in assessing your appearance. He's running short on time. “Do you mind telling me where you’re headed?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll be your escort for the evening," he explains.

“Oh,” you blurt out, letting go of his arm, “thank you, but an escort won’t be necessary.” With a hasty dip of your head, you leave, bumping into a woman in the process. When you move to apologize, you realize she has no face. 

Just a dark head and a liquid, convulsing body.

"So where to?" The gentleman asks, and this time when he approaches, you don’t hesitate to take his arm. 

"Cesari's," you murmur, lest the creature hear you. It’s where your sister works, and you've been worried enough as it is.

He guides you briskly down a cobbled path. "I'd advise you not to look back."

In the distance, you hear a collective groaning, the crack of wood splintering. Low at first, the groaning rises steadily in pitch, the crack of wood quickening like strikes of a whip drawing blood. Your heart drums fast. Suddenly, a dark creature swoops toward you, screaming shrilly. V turns you abruptly to the right. 

Phantoms lurk around the corner, shrieking as they lunge, but the next alley leads to a wall. Your breath catches. From the cracks burst out more phantoms, and you grip the gentleman's sleeve, squeezing your eyes shut.

The next moment, you can't feel the ground. The howling and screeching fall away, growing softer and softer until you can hear them no more.

You venture a look.

"Careful," the gentleman warns, a second too late. "We're quite high up."

Quite high up? You'd have to be -- you don't know, geography has never been your strong suit -- a few hundred meters above the ground! You're flying. There’s nothing to hold onto except the gentleman's bejewelled hands, and while the view of Market Chipping is beautiful, you're going to fall.

"Are you mad?" You ask, trying not to panic. 

He laughs. "I'm surprised you didn't notice. Now take a step." 

Your first one is shaky. Without any surface to step on, it feels like you're sinking instead of floating. 

"Imagine you're taking a stroll," the gentleman suggests. "Look, there’s the patisserie, the flora, and the...fauna. Strange, that shouldn’t be there.”

To your horror, his grip on you loosens just a bit, and you yelp, prompting his attention. 

”Why don’t you think of a song?” He asks.

“A dirge, you mean. A funeral song.”

“I know what a dirge is,” he snaps. “You, on the other hand...”

It didn’t work.

V thought he could distract you with a squabble, but your palms are still as clammy as ever.

So to pacify your stubborn fear (so tangible he can feel it), he coaxes you into giving him a tour of Market Chipping. At first, you insist it's been quite some time since you've set foot outside and you're likely missing a place or few. How long is quite some time, he asks, mostly in jest, and is surprised when you tell him. He doesn’t show it. Instead, he assures you it’s of little import, because really, he's just settled in, so do you know any merchants who sell paintings? He's been itching for something to spruce up his residence -- the walls are bleak and empty.

By the time you reach Cesari’s, the stars are just beginning to shimmer. Night falls rapidly over the horizon, and you're surprised at the sudden desire you feel to prolong the conversation. 

"Would you like to come in for biscuits and tea? Surely Joy can get us a discount--" You catch yourself, noting the lustrous gold winding his velvet cape, the violet glint of sapphires dangling from his ears. "Not that you'll need it."

"No," he says, releasing your hand gently. "But I appreciate the offer. I must get going."

"Good night, then," you say. "And thank you for escorting me. I enjoyed your company."

He smiles a soft smile, his most disarming one yet. "The pleasure is all mine." With a slight bow, he vanishes from sight.

The sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar beckons you into Cesari's, yet you feel no urge to enter. Lingering by the balcony, you watch the festivities below, the lights and colorful dresses appearing small and whimsical, a bit like you’re peering through a snow globe. For the first time in a while, you feel a childlike wonder. You hadn't realized you missed it.

Too late you realize you should have asked for the gentleman's name. 

"Who was that?" A bright voice, clear out of nowhere, asks. "I didn't get a good look."

"Joy!" You exclaim, recognizing the fair features of your sister. Although she seems a bit thinner. It worries you, but you bite your tongue. Joy, after all, doesn't take to chiding. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting some fresh air." She stretches leisurely, a mischievous grin on her lips. "So imagine my surprise when I hear my sister offering a discount without consulting me first."

"You heard that?"

"The pleasure is all mine," she mimics, putting on an exaggerated, deep tone.

"Well, I suppose it serves me right."

"Please!" Joy laughs. "You shouldn’t be so proper. What are biscuits and tea compared to your happiness?"

"Not as--"

"No," she interrupts. "Don't answer that. I'm doing well here despite the amount of pesky suitors. They're nothing I can't handle, so j...just let me help you thrive, too. So long as it isn't V you're handing your heart to."

You miss the awkward falter in Joy's words, touched and baffled as you are by her sentiment. "Doesn't he only eat the hearts of beauties? I'd be more concerned if I were you."

"Or," she muses, "he feeds on beautiful, innocent hearts, and we've been fools all along." 

When she looks at you, chills creep up your spine. "Are you trying to frighten me?"

"Well, do you have a beautiful heart?" She retorts.

"I don’t know."

"Exactly," she says. "And no one can fathom why V chose to stay here of all places. That's why we--"

"Joy!" Someone shouts from inside.

"I'm on break!" She shouts back, but the woman calls out to her again. Joy pulls an annoyed face, and for a second, you think you see a bit of Irene in her expression. Then she breathes and returns to her pleasant self. "Come in." She twists the doorknob open. "I'll finish telling you later." 

As you follow her, a creature slithers under the balcony, quiet for now.

It's dark and pulsing. 

[voidstilesplease]

in another life

part one

"We have a bit of a situation," is what greets him when Stiles takes the call. Mason sounds winded on the other side. "Are you almost in town?"

His eyebrows shot up, "I'm perfectly well driving in the snow, Mason. Thank you for asking."

"Stiles,"

He rolls his eyes, "Thirty minutes tops. You guys are making me feel warm, huh." Stiles disconnects the call and almost regrets his decision to come home early for Christmas, but it's too late to turn back now.

~•~

He parks outside of Scott's house - the official pack headquarters even if Scott himself has not returned from college yet. He promises to arrive in four days while Lydia has scheduled a flight for next week. Malia is stuck with papers and can't fly until the 23rd. For now, Stiles is responsible for the pack until Scott returns - he resents that. He should've gone home first and changed into comfortable clothes, but Liam has rung him up, frantic, two more times after Mason's call. They won't tell what the problem is. Stiles figures if it were a life-and-death thing, they wouldn't delay information. They are vying for the drama is what's going on.

Melissa opens the front door and beams when she sees him. She opens her arms wide for a hug, "Hey! Looking good, Stiles. FBI been taking care of you?"

Before he can reply, Liam appears from behind Melissa. "Stiles!" his face looks so harried, splotches of red appearing. "Sorry to interrupt, but you really have to see this."

Liam hurries back without checking if Stiles follows, but he scrambles after him with an apologetic smile to Melissa. The beta leads him upstairs to Scott's old room. From the hallway, Stiles can already hear two voices talking, sifting out of the open door.

"Look-"

"No, you look. I don't know why you guys took me here or why you seem so wary about me. But, Jesus Christ, for the hundredth time, I don't know you."

Stiles frowns, confused. One of the voices belong to Mason, the other-

He stops short by the doorframe, startled at the unexpected sight of Theo Raeken sitting by the foot of Scott's bed. 

They haven't seen the guy since Gerard's plan to start a war between the supernaturals in Beacon Hills and the residents -and the subsequent flop. He left town less than a month after Tamora Monroe and her hunter lackey's escaped. They haven't heard from him since, and that had been two years ago.

Theo looks almost the same when Stiles last saw him. His hair is long, fringe falling to his eyes, and he has the same stocky build. His face scrunches in annoyance and impatience, and that's also not new. The only difference probably is his five o'clock shadow, reminding Stiles that he has also grown since then. He has always been clean-shaven.

Theo catches sight of Stiles by the doorway and his expression shifts to that of relief. "Oh, thank god, Stiles." He gets to his feet and crosses their small distance in two strides. Without preamble, Theo takes Stiles into his arms, clutching him firmly, as he buries his face in Stiles's neck.

Stiles is too stunned to push him away -and he should because there could be a dagger poised to pierce his guts any second now- but even Liam and Mason freeze in their spots. Liam snaps from his daze, and his eyes begin to glow yellow in a warning. Theo leans back and takes Stiles's face between his hands, ignoring the low growl coming from Liam. What's even more baffling is that he smiles. Theo Raeken smiles - not smirks, or frowns, or grimaces, but smiles. "You're here."

Mason finds his voice, "Wait. I thought you had amnesia and didn't know any of us?"

Liam retracts his claws and fangs when Theo turns back to them, seemingly unarmed. The beta scoffs, watching the way the chimera presses himself close to Stiles. For his part, Stiles is still recovering from the onslaught of uncharacteristic behavior from Theo and his blatant cluelessness of what's going on. It looks like the snow has given Stiles brain freeze from the long drive because he's only gawking instead of asking questions. The FBI should not hear about this. 

"Of course, he forgets all of us, but not Stiles," Liam crosses his arms, a little bit of condescension dripping in his tone. "The ghost riders took him and basically erased him from existence, and Theo still remembered him, anyway."

Theo looks lost, trying to follow Liam's words, "Why wouldn't I remember Stiles?"

"Hm," Liam curls his lips. "Those were even your exact words before."

"Okay," Stiles says, having enough of this. He steps away from Theo, raising both his hands in a gesture of stop. He fixes his gaze between Liam and Mason. "What is going on?"

"I've been trying to ask the same thing," Theo interjects, scowling at Mason and Liam. "But they hardly speak to me and refuse to let me go."

Liam exhales, sounding exasperated. "He woke up in the hospital," he starts, ignoring Theo. "making a scene, insisting he shouldn't be in California, and that he was just in New York seconds ago."

"Liam's dad recognized him," Mason offers. "So he told Melissa who called us. Then, we collected Theo and brought him here."

Liam shakes his head, eyes on Theo. "But he keeps saying he doesn't know us, or even Scott."

"I don't," Theo steps forward again and tugs at Stiles's clothed arm. "Let's just leave, babe-"

Stiles promptly plants his feet to the floor and halts Theo, blinking rapidly. "Wait, wait, wait," he withdraws his arms and puts his hands in between them to establish distance. Theo has been evading Stiles's personal space like friends would, but Stiles draws the line at endearments. They're not friends, and he isn't a babe. "What did you call me?"

Theo frowns at him, a hurt look crossing his features. "Babe," he answers like it's not a questionable thing at all. "I called you babe."

"Wow," Liam scoffs, blinking in disbelief. "Not only are you amnesiac. You've also apparently gone mad."

Theo turns to Liam, getting a more violent shade of red in the face. He would've stepped towards him in a challenge had Stiles not intercepted him with a hand to his chest. Stiles is surprised that Theo even concedes. There's only a slight force in his touch that a chimera with superstrength like Theo can strike with no problem.

"I'll tell you what's crazy," Theo grounds his teeth, nose flaring at Liam. "I don't know what the fuck is going on or who the hell you two are. I don't know how I'm here. Some kind of-" he delays, struggling, and then spits out, "magic plucked me from New York, and put me on the other side of the goddamn State. I thought I was dreaming, but the nurses keep claiming to sedate me." his hands gesture back and forth at the two. "Then you strangers keep coming at me, saying my name like we knew each other, telling me I live in a car - I don't, okay? I have a fucking apartment in Manhattan. I live with my boyfriend, and Stiles and I were having a stupid snow fight when I lost consciousness and woke up in that damn hospital. That's what crazy is!"

Silence follows Theo's outburst. Stiles can feel Liam and Mason's eyes -and even Melissa's from where she's standing outside the room- on him. He only gapes at Theo's flushed face and heaving chest.

"Did you just call me your boyfriend?"

Theo transfers his eyes on him, looking gutted. "Of course, I did." His expression quickly morphs to worry, "Has something happened to you, too?" then his face falls in dread when he asks, realizing the situation. "You don't remember me?"

It sounds like Theo’s remembering the wrong things, but Stiles's only response is to stare. What's happening is too bizarre for his exhausted mind to process. He's glad that there's no maiming involved with this little reunion with an old nemesis, but he doesn't know what to do with all the touching and intent looking and the sudden selective amnesia.

Theo looks crestfallen for an awkward while before his face lights up again. "We have to call Tara. She-"

"Tara?" Stiles echoes loudly, rearing back and cutting him off in shock. "Your sister?"

He beams, nodding his head. "Good. You remember her. That's progress, I think."

Stiles blurts out before he can think to stop himself, "You think she's alive?"

Theo pauses. His smile slowly flattens out, until he frowns, eyes reflecting a little bit of alarm at the crass question. "Why wouldn't she be?"

And yeah, Stiles doesn't have enough brain cells to start explaining that.

Theo's confusion has to straighten out as soon as possible.

~•~

title from: The One That Got Away by Katy Perry

[a-cat001]

Sweets and Sugar

The room was filled with sweet aromas as you began to mix the ingredients together. You had decided to bake some sweets for several of your friends at Shinjuku Academy including the summoners to celebrate everyone passing their exams, yes even Kengo. Of course baking had also become a hobby of yours as you helped out Choji and Chernobog more often in the kitchen so this was also a way for you to relax and do something you enjoyed. You were allowed to use the kitchen and had asked Chernobog to pick up some more ingredients for making pastries and in the meantime you were busy whisking the cake batter. You had just finished mixing when you suddenly heard the sound of sniffing, the dining area was supposed to empty and you were the only one in the kitchen, you turned around and looked to see a furry white snout with a tongue poking out peeking under the door, its nose twitching as it sniffed the air rapidly. A grin began to rise on your face as you walked over to the door in question, “Is someone there?” you call out. Suddenly the snout retracts and you hear the sound of loud scampering and crashing as objects are knocked into before it turns silent. You then open the door to look out into the dining area, scanning the room for something out of the ordinary until your eyes fall on a tail peeking out from underneath one of the tables. You sigh at the sight until an idea hits you “Huh, I guess there’s no one here” you say aloud, no reaction. “Boy these sweets sure smell really good”, at this the tail peeking out begins to thump against the floor, “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all these sweets” you continue causing the tail to thump up and down at blinding speed. “I was really hoping someone would be here to help taste these sweets but I guess not”, at this behemoth sprang out from under the table, practically sending it flying in the process, “Ooh! Me-me! I can help! Please please pleeeease”. You couldn’t help but laugh as Behemoth bounced from one foot to the other in excitement, “tell you what, you want to help decorate the cakes and you can join us in eating all the sweets”. “R-really! That’s awesome! I’d love to help!”, Behemoth’s excitement was through the roof so you decided it was time to put it to use, so you guided Behemoth back into the kitchen. “I’m going to start putting the mix into the oven, if you would, could you continue mixing ingredients for the next cakes.”, “Of course, I’ll get right to it!” he exclaims, you turn to start putting the batter into the oven but quickly turn around as you remember something, “I almost forgot, no eating the cake batter”. As you say this behemoth stops mid-process of pouring the batter into his mouth “Daaaw please, just a little bit?” he whines, “You can lick the bowl clean when we’re finished but we need all the cake batter we can get behemoth, remember once it’s finished you can eat to your heart's content.”, Behemoth gives a small whimper before saying “ok”. You begin to place the cake batter in the oven as Behemoth whisks together more cake batter and after a while you have plenty of cakes ready for decorating. You pull out some pipet bags and frosting and begin to decorate one of the cakes as a demonstration as Behemoth watches with extreme focus, making sure to mark down every detail of the decoration. Once finished you hand a pipet bag to Behemoth and tell him to have at it, his focus quickly turning into excitement as he jumps up and gets to work on decorating the cakes. Time passes as you continue to decorate the cakes until you and Behemoth have fully decorated all the cakes into beautiful masterpieces with frosted flowers, fruit garnish, and candy decorations, with Behemoth having done very well at doing his part. “Wow Behemoth you did great!”, “Thanks! This was so much fun to do especially with a close friend!” he replies, “Oh! You got a little frosting there!” Behemoth points out, referring to a bit of frosting that you had accidentally wiped on your cheek. Before you can wipe it off, Behemoth suddenly reaches down and presses his lips up against your cheek, as he pulls away you place your hand on your cheek where his lips had just been, feeling a slight blush rise up. Stunned into silence Behemoth begins to blush hard, “W-WAIT! I was just trying to clean it off! I didn’t mean a-anything!” “I just wanted to taste the icing...y-yeah that’s it!”. Looking over your’s and Behemoth’s work you notice that you managed to bake a couple more cakes than needed so you decide to let Behemoth enjoy one for his hard work, “Since you did such a good job why don’t you try out a slice?”, Behemoth practically jumped for joy, “YEEEAH! Bring on the cake!!”. You chuckle at his excitement as you cut a slice out of one of the cakes and plate it, as you turn to hand it to him you suddenly feel something warm and wet envelope your arm. You look down at your arm to see it swallowed down to the elbow in Behemoth’s mouth, taking a moment to register the scene you simply sigh and shake your head unable to argue as Behemoth’s face is one of pure ecstasy and happiness, however the real problem is when you hear someone behind you yell “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING TO MY BELOVED BRAVE?!!”. You whip your head around to see Chernobog having returned from getting the necessary ingredients, “REMOVE YOUR MOUTH FROM MY BELOVED BRAVE YOU BEAST, THIS INSTANT!” he bellows. Chernobog rushes over pulling Behemoth back by his hood with one hand while pulling you into his chest with the other, Black snow condenses into a menacing scythe as he points in Behemoths direction causing him to cower in fear. “WAIT!, he wasn’t hurting me!”, Chernobog looks at you confused, “are you sure my beloved brave? This frozen heart of mine would shatter at the sight of you being harmed.” he replies. “Yes I'm sure, Behemoth was helping me with the cakes, he just got a little excited.”, Chernobog turns to Behemoth, still cowering, who gives a wry smile and a thumbs up. Chernobog narrows his eyes at him before finally releasing you “very well my brave, however I will be watching you”, with chernobog there you finish with the pastries in record time. Having finished, the three of you bring the desserts into the dining area and spread them out for everyone who you invited. As the party started you received multiple compliments for your sweets as Shiro asked if you would share your recipes with him and Kengo telling you that the sweets tasted great but he was not much for sweets despite seeing him sneak slices of cake when nobody was looking. Ryota comes to you practically hopping, “These sweets are delicious! Can I watch next time you bake? Pleeease”, you agree, causing Ryota to cheer in excitement before running off to refill on cake. You then feel something behind you tap you on the shoulder, turning to see Behemoth behind you with a nervous expression “C-could I talk to you…. Alone?” he asks. You agree and he leads you outside the dining area before stopping and turning to you, his index fingers pressing together as he anticipates his next words. “C-can we do this again together… just you and me- N-Not because I just want to eat sweets!... but because I really enjoyed doing this with you…. And I want to keep doing this with you.”. You smile and answer “Of course Behemoth we can make as many things as you want, together.”, Behemoth’s smile stretches from ear to ear as he pulls you up into a hug, “OHHH, thank you-thank you-thank you, thank youuuu!” he exclaims. He then places you up on his shoulders “Come on I’m hungry, let’s go get some sweets!” as he carries you back to the dining area and while he may have an empty stomach but his heart was full.

[astrandofgold]

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 5: cast some light, we’ll be alright

Note: it gets dark and creepy, but it’ll be alright. I promise. Based on this sketch.

______________________________

Lightning broke the sky in half above Leo’s head. The thunder, louder than any noise she had ever heard, screamed around the landscape, shaking the surrounding earth. Leo had never seen a storm like this before, electric and heavy and terrifying, dark tumultuous clouds writhing above. Leo’s skin prickled with the charged atmosphere, and her body screamed at her, instincts telling her to run. But there was no where to run to.

As the wind wrapped around Leo, pulling her hair and tugging her clothing, she took one last look at the wrath of the storm, then retreated inside the house. The front entrance, which looked out on the valley and normally provided a peaceful window to the outdoors now became a terrifying weak point of the structure. The windows shook and groaned against the pressure of the wind. Leo paced, running hands through hair, eyes wide as she tried to override the compelling longing to hide. She had to prepare for this storm.

Running from room to room, grabbing as many blankets and linens as possible, many bearing the old Bridges logo, Leo started covering windows and door frame gaps. Anything to prevent shattering glass or leaking rainwater. A sheet of rain slammed against the side of the house, causing Leo to jump. The ferocity and suddenness with which the torrent beat against the house was not normal. It shouldn’t be so strong. Is it a tornado? Leo had read about them while reading through science texts she found on the network, but they were unheard of in this age.

Without warning, floodwaters filled the valley, and Leo found herself mere centimeters away from meters of water, with only the panel of glass between her and it. Water began seeping in between the cracks of the doorframe. The water, now obscurring the windows entirely, filtered the light and filled the room with a deathly red glow. Leo held back a scream with her fist when a body hit the window, the face of a poor porter caught on foot in the storm. The water was now pooling at her feet. A quiet sob rattled Leo as she realized that she was going to die here. She wanted out of this house, the structure that was her prison growing up, where the ghosts of her memories would replay the beatings and the screaming of her childhood over and over and over again. She already ran away from this place once, but it found a way to drag her back. She never thought it would be her grave.

She wanted to see the sun. She wanted to hold Higgs again. Wanted to feel his warmth against her, his hand running through her hair, lips against her forehead, whispering all the reasons why he loved her.

Leo wrapped her arms around herself, sobs now filling the dark, empty room. She slumped to the floor, giving up on trying to keep the looming flood out. She knew there was no way out of this. She was dead, and she was alone. She wondered if she could find her gun in time to avoid a death by drowning. One quick pull, and it could all be over. Just do it. Do it before the water breaks through the door.

Crack.

It was too late.

Leo whispered one last love note to Higgs before the door gave in to the tidal wave of water, and Leo’s body was seized up by the unforgiving darkness.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Higgs, on our beach”

Higgs was half asleep, eyelids heavy with the late hour when he sat up in bed and found Leo huddled on the floor of their bunker. Shaking off the drowsiness as he processed what was happening, he jumped out of bed and swiftly moved to her side. Her underwear and tank top were drenched in sweat, eyes wild, frantically seeing phantoms around her that didn’t exist.

“Leo, darlin’—sweetheart—it’s okay, it’s alright, you’re safe. It’s Higgs…”

Higgs knelt in front of her, cradling her in his lap. He brushed aside her damp hair, humming quietly. Anything to try and break Leo out of her nightmare.

“I…the water...Higgs….t-the storm….you need to save yourse—”

“It’s okay, darlin’, I’m right here, I gotcha.”

Higgs wrapped an arm around Leo and held her close to him, and placed her small hand in his own, larger hand. He set it on his chest, just over his heart.

Eyes bloodshot and defeated, Leo stared through Higgs, and he gently brushed the side of Leo’s face with a thumb. Tears fell down, one after the other, as consciousness started returning to the hazel eyes.

“Higgs….th-the nightmares…won’t stop….”

“Listen to me, darlin’. I’m right here. Feel my heartbeat. This is real, this is where you are. You’re with me, in our home. You’re safe, and I love you.”

Higgs searched her face, desperate to find any sign that the horrors plaguing Leo were receding. He hated seeing her in this pain, hated that he was powerless to stop her from enduring this. He’d take on the DOOMS nightmares tenfold if it meant she never had to live through one more. He knew exactly what she was going through, and while he’d long ago figured how to cope with them, he knew Leo was fighting this as hard as she could.

Looking at her glossy eyes, Higgs bit his lip, then decided to take a chance.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna pick you up and take you outside. That okay?”

Leo slowly nodded.

Progress.

Higgs let out a soft, relieved sigh, then scooped her up, grabbing a blanket as he went. As much as he hated the term, it always made him feel warm and fuzzy inside whenever he lifted Leo. Everything in him craved the need to protect her, and he held her close to his chest. She was so small, and should have been fragile based on her stature, but within her tiny body hid her namesake’s strength. Higgs couldn’t help it when the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile at the thought of Leo’s ferocity. She was an absolute wildfire.

The cool breeze gently enveloped the two when Higgs stepped out into the grass. The moonlight gently bathed the valley in a soft glow, and the dew on the ground sparkled, much like chiralium used to. Mist blanketed the far reaches of the valley, near the edge of the small forest. The range that hid Mountain Knot City pierced the sky, caps dusted with snow. It was silent, and it was absolutely beautiful.

Leo, now rapidly gaining consciousness courtesy of the chilly night air, snuggled close to Higgs. He was still holding her in his arms, blanket wrapped around the two of them. Tonight was a particularly clear night, and the stars twinkled above.

Higgs broke the silence with a content hum.

“You know, I never saw the stars until a few years ago. Not like I was ever gonna, what with the chiralium and my daddy-“, the motherfucker, added under his breath, “-keeping me from enjoying them like I am now. The view’s exceptionally beautiful, better than anything I ever dreamed about.”

Leo shifted her view from the twinkling night sky to Higgs, and smiled, watching his boyish blue eyes take in the wonders of the universe. The nightmare’s last strand of dread dissipated. She lifted a hand and placed it on Higgs’ face, caressing over the stubble, closed her eyes, and sighed contently as he leaned into her embrace.

“The view from where I’m sitting is even better.”

[alouispo]

Alright- this fic is definitely going to be extremely dark. There is definitely going to be a lot of triggers in here. The reason why I wrote it so dark though is because the fiction that I've read isn't as dark as I would like, but then again I'm a very angsty person so that would make sense.

Trigger warnings// gaslighting, slight abuse, manipulation, depictions of violence, panic attacks, breakdowns, things like that- (also swearing and stuff)

Don't say i didn't warn you! (i cant put the break yet so ill do that later)

Ranboo didn't know what to expect when he went to visit Tommy in his exile. Surely he didn't expect anything good of course, but wasn't expecting anything too bad either. The Enderman hybrid could only visit the sixteen-year-old once every two weeks. If he would visit more than that, Dream would most likely prohibit him from visiting at all. Of course he would. The former vice president is in exile after all.

Walking through that Nether portal and stepping into Logstedshire, Ranboo was immediately filled with concern. Looking around the area, it seemed like the place had gone through hell and back. On the beach there were tons of Seagulls picking at what seemed like cake on the table; the place that Wilbur had built when Tommy came to exile for the first time was blown to smithereens, the tent was ripped to shreds and also blown up, and there were a bunch of random images of people from L'manburg hung up on wooden signs which were ripped brutally. 

He also noticed the huge pillar in the distance, built on top of a large hill behind Logstedshire. Ranboo didn't want to think of the worst, so he decided to just ignore it.

Deciding that maybe it was a bad time to come after he called around for a bit with no reply, Ranboo walked back through the Nether towards L'manburg, trying to stay positive as tears started to drip down his face.

Tubbo didn't ask anything when Ranboo came back from Logstedshire in silence. His presence didn't give off a good vibe compared to his usual lively self which is full of positivity. 'Something must have happened,' he thought to himself. 'But what?'

Tommy had to get away. If he didn't he would be slaughtered eventually. If he didn't get away now, he wasn't sure he would be able to survive until the end of his exile. 

The sixteen-year-old had been walking through the cold plains of the frozen biome for what seemed like hours. It was freezing oh, and he meant that literally. Also make matters worse, his clothes were worn out and he didn't have any shoes. The only bit of warmth that he kept was Wilbur's old hat. The one that he wore when he was alive. His physical and mental state didn't help him at all either. His body was weak from poor eating habits along with bruising and cuts. He didn't want to think about how he got them, so he pushed the thought out of his mind. His mental state was slowly deteriorating oh, Tommy becoming desensitized to nearly everything around him.

Not paying attention to any of his surroundings, the teenager tripped on a rock with his bare feet. The rock was unfortunately sharp and cut deep through the bottom of his foot not allowing him to walk. The cold was numbing it for a bit, so he wouldn't feel the actual pain for a while. His expression not changing, Tommy attempted to get up. The cold only pushed him down, adding the numbness of his limbs. He shivered as a harsh gust of wind pushed past him. Its not like it would matter to anyone if he decided to lay in the snow for a while. Gaining comfort in the softness of the cold, Tommy closed his eyes, promising that he would only sleep for a little bit. 

His bloodlust was strong, but how strong he didn't know. Technoblade first melted when he opened the door to throw out some rotten flesh. It made him stop in his tracks as the voices started to scream for blood. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction he assumed it was coming from. Being logical, the pig thought that it was just an animal that had hurt themselves badly while falling off a cliff or running into a tree, but this was different. Techno had already known what the smell of animal blood was like, he means, it's pretty common for animals to get hurt around here. This was different though. Technoblade smelled human blood, or at least something similar to human blood. The scent was so strong and made the voices scream louder, his eyes dilating with the inability to control himself.

Dropping everything that he was doing previously, and forgetting to close the doors of his house before he left, the pig trudged towards the source of what he was smelling. Even in the thick snow, his movement and eyesight were enhanced. It didn't seem to slow him down at all as he moved stealthily. He hadn't remembered the last time he felt so sensitive to everything around him. So aware.

Picking up the pace as the voices begged him to go faster, techno felt the scent getting stronger. He knew he was close, he could almost taste it. The words blood for the blood god repeated in his head over and over as he continuously got stronger. Excitement built up in his chest at the thought of a new prey.  He could see in the distance that someone was laying in the snow. 'Weak and helpless,' the voices chanted loudly. 'Kill them!' They screamed. 

Before he could obliged to the voices, techno blade paused. He was sure he recognized who was lying in the snow. Before he knew it, the voices had suddenly switched tunes, all of them saying that it was Tommy who lay there and to help him. Concerned etched into his features as the blood lust calmed down, I letting him think clearly for once. The blade examined the 16-year-old boy as he kneeled next to him. It seems that the vice president was unconscious,  and it seemed like the blood was coming from him. Searching his body and around him, he found a blood trail following Tommy for about two feet. A sharp rock caught his eye, leading him to assume that Tommy had cut his foot while walking. Picking the boy up as the thought of it getting infected filled his mind, Technoblade raced back to his house. It didn't also help how freezing cold it was, and how abnormally light the teenager was.

When he arrived to his base, the blade immediately slammed the door shut, startling Edward who was asleep with his dirt block. Technoblade climbed up the ladder rapidly and place Tommy on his bed before practically jumping back down it to get some bandages and a healing pot. Again, repeating the process of racing of the ladder, technical blade started on healing The cut on Tommy's foot. The main reason he was rushing so much was because he was afraid the voices would flip their switch again and decide that they want Technoblade to kill Tommy. After taking a few hours to heal the child, Techno took off his cape and covered the younger brother with it along with a few blankets. He wasn't sure how long the he could assume former vice president was outside in the cold. For all he knew, Tommy could have hyperthermia and also some other sickness on top of that.

The emperor took the time to examine Tommy Innit, Remembering how light the kid was when he picked him up. Tommy looked frail. He never thought of a more unfitting word to describe the former. He looked like he had barely eaten since the last time he saw him, say six or seven months ago. There were bruises on his face along with some cuts and a newly placed bandage on his nose. His golden hair that was usually fluffy and bright was dirty and matted, some sticks, leaves, and snow all mixed together in it. Every few minutes, Tommy would start shaking and hug himself before changing position and going back to sleeping like a dead man. He also noticed the bags under his eyes. Techno debated whether they were worse than his or not, but it was pretty obvious that it was terrible how he could have gotten those bags in such a short amount of time. He caught a glimpse of Tommy's forearm, which was worryingly covered in bandages.

Technoblade wanted to ask what it happened to him, but he decided it was better that he didn't for now. Climbing back down the ladder to go make some food, Techno left the child alone to sleep, preparing for when he would wake up.

[skyrim-drabbles-n-stuff]

Miraak x Ldb: Baby (dragon) Fever

(Baby dragon this time)

Winter was not a forgiving season in your homeland. Everyone knows that even through the summer Skyrim was known for its delightful flurries. So to say that it was cold would be one hell of an understatement. However despite the atrocity of the elements, you were capable of making your proud homestead comfortable. A humble fire ignited by a mere mumble of “yol” and a bottle of spiced wine in your hand.

The only thing troubling you at this point was the fact that Miraak was due back home from foraging a little over an hour ago. Sure, he was definitely able to take care of himself. Gods he was anything but defenseless. Perhaps the source of your anxiety stemmed not from what could happen to him, but what would happen to something if it messed with him.

Thankfully before your mind could wonder too far your focus was snapped back to reality by the sound of a door opening, howling winds accompanying it before an abrupt stop. Eyes still gazing into the fire you grinned, you knew who it was. Even if you didn’t at first, you knew the pattern of footfalls and clinking of golden chains by heart, quickly giving away who it belonged to.

“I was just wondering where you were..” Was your breaking of the silence, a happiness you didn’t realize was missing taking over.

However when he didn’t answer, his large form languidly retreating to your shared quarters, the smile dropped rather quickly. He was grumpy naturally but it was unlike him to ignore you. If anything he’d annoy you to no end before ignoring you.

What could he possibly be mad about? Surely he heard you.

With an agitated huff you pursued him. Frustration growing with each step closer. Once you passed the doorway you were practically fuming. It was pitiful he could invoke such strong emotions so easily, but hey, you loved the bastard so if anyone was aloud to do this to you it should be him. Needless to say, you were still pissed.

If looks could kill, he’d likely have daggers sticking out his now bare back. His robes were full of rapidly melting snow and were now lying in a messy pile next to his boots. How’d he get undressed so quickly? It didn’t matter.

Crossing your arms over your chest you cleared your throat. “I was worried.�� You gruffly sneered, brow furrowing.

When he didn’t answer again, only looking over to give you emerald hued side eye, you were about to blow up. How dare he stand at the foot of your bed, bare save for his pants, infuriating you beyond belief?

As though sensing your impending fury, he sighed, opening his mouth to speak. Before any words could form, a distinct “squeak” stopped him. Instantly his eyes were saucer sized, now perfectly fixated on you.

“What the hell?” You muttered, arms uncrossing before you took a few hurried steps to his side.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was previously hidden. Did you gasp? Yelp? You didn’t even know. For what reaction would be appropriate when there was a minuscule creature lying on your bed? What was one supposed to do when there was a...a..dragon?

Being Dragonborn didn’t mean you knew what to do in the presence of another dov. Kill was definitely a first instinct but...not now. Time itself seemed to heed as you took in the details of the creature before you.

It was..beautiful? Scales glimmering in the candlelight a shiny golden-cream color. It’s wide, curious eyes a kind amber hue. It was no bigger than a wolf pup, yet it stood as proudly as its tiny wings and legs would allow.

Whenever it’s eyes met yours is when they really lit up. From the tiny form erupted a strangely cute hissing chirp as it inspected you, it’s head tilting side to side.

“I think the little dovah likes you.” Finally, your lover’s deep accented voice spoke, a gentle expression on his face.

With no hesitation, one of his burly arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze however was still transfixed on the little creature, clearly amused as it approached you.

“Um..yeah, wait no. Miraak, where..?” “It’s no matter, this little one didn’t have a home. She wouldn’t survive on her own.” He mused, his free hand reaching towards the golden dragon to lovingly let the top of her little head. “It wouldn’t have been right to leave her, sahrohtaar practically forbade it.”

Maybe you’ve gone insane. That was plausible. You knew he was compassionate but you were sure that it was limited to you and yourself alone. Never in a million years would you have expected this. Besides..when did dragons mate? You were almost certain they were all male. Okay yeah, logically speaking that couldn’t have been so but you’ve never seen a female dragon. Save for yourself of course..but that didn’t really count right?

Following his arm up to his face you were even more so shocked. The look of love in his eyes was astonishing. It wasn’t the love he shown when he looked at you, but you could tell it was easily as significant, just not the same type. For a man who proclaimed hatred for dragons, this was earth shaking.

“I don’t know what to say...” you drawled, slowly grinning once again. You were terrified, weirded out and disturbed but..if it meant you could continue to see that gentle look in his eyes, all of it was worth it. “Does..does she have a name?” You asked, melting as his loving eyes met your own- the kindness in his smile enough to make you forget about the frozen fury raging outside the safety of your home.

He hummed tentatively at your question. A habit of his that let you know when he put great thought into something. “Yes..I was thinking, Briiviinhind.” He was proud and it was obvious.

“Brii..Beautiful..shine..hope? Not really a scary dragon name, but still proper. Three words of power.” Oh gods, you were slowly falling in love with the little thing. Maybe this was Akatosh’s punishment for your coupling with the First Dragonborn.

“It doesn’t have to be threatening love.” He playfully chided, practically purring whenever you fully embraced his side. It amazes you how he managed to stay so warm, it had to be the Atmoran blood. “Just has to be fitting and..her new mother has to approve of course.”

“Mother...?” Your eyes were now wide as well, lips apart as you processed. Maybe you were dragon enough after all, as much as he was at least. “So are you the father now?” The question came out oddly playful considering you were still feeling from shock.

“Well of course I am. Besides...” He paused, his smile widening to the point of exposing his scruff covered dimples as the baby dragon began its trek up his body in search for additional warmth. “Besides, i’ll need all the practice I can get.”

“Hmm..practice for what?” Now your interest was completely piqued.

“For when I end up putting a nestling of our own in your belly.” “WHAT??” To this he laughed, a lovely pink blush on the tip of his nose and a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he winked.

Divines preserve you.

[the-wardens-torch]

FFXIVwrite2021 Prompt #25: Silver Lining

Falerin looked out over the Ishgardian landscape with a childish groan.  It hadn’t been snowing when he got here last night, but the night had seen fit to correct that. Even in the faint, pre-dawn light, it was plain to see that a blanket of white covered nearly everything. A coat of thick white doom that hid countless hazards; uneven cobblestones, thick ice, even piles of frozen shit left by the charges of negligent carriage drivers.

He’d hoped fervently against this exact thing. While he’d learned his lesson about thick underclothes and a proper coat, socks, hat, scarf, gloves, and breeches the last time he was here, he’d been trying so hard to keep track of it all that he’d forgotten a good pair of boots.  All he was left with were the stiff, ill-fitting patent leather dress shoes Maj had loaned him for last night’s gig.

Tentatively, he stepped out into the snow, putting only a fraction of his weight down to test the integrity of the snow, keeping his knees bent in case he had to right himself in mid-fall.  The whole process reminded him of when he’d first learned to walk on the deck of a sailing ship during his Cieldalaes childhood.  However, he found this far, far more difficult. Was there such a thing as snow legs? Would he ever have them?  The snow seemed uncommonly hard as he began to lean forward, as if it were solid… But he knew better this time. A split second later, as he had expected, his foot broke through the thin layer of ice over the surface with an oddly satisfying crunch.  Gingerly, he placed his other foot in the snow, ignoring the sensation of a fresh pins-and-needles chill eating its way up his ankle.  

Beginning what would certainly be a long and clumsy walk, he lifted his foot, only to find that a large chunk of ice was stuck to it. If this was how long each step was going to take… He grumbled quietly, shaking his foot like a perturbed cat in an effort to dislodge it.  

To his great irritation, his shoe suddenly parted company with his foot, landing on the icy surface of the snow with a thud. Then, to his abject horror, the shoe… moved.  And kept moving. Away from him.

“Nonononoshitedontwhygodsdamnedshitenomydamnedshoenononoshitshite.”

He watched helplessly as the shoe picked up momentum with each ilm it moved.  The dawn picked that exact moment to break, and the sun seemed to rise in time with the wayward shoe’s journey. Fal couldn’t help but marvel as soft, orange light permeated his view, at first caught in the sheen of polished leather, and then reflected off of the top of the packed, mirror-smooth snow.  He barely noticed the cold breeze weaving between his toes, or the rapidly melting ice adhered to the cuff of his sock.

Drawing his eye like some sort of impromptu tour guide, the shoe glided down the street towards St. Reymenaud‘s cathedral.  Obligingly, the dawn light followed it, the light traveling along the enveloping swathe of scintillating snow atop the iron spires and stone edifices. Suddenly Ishgard looked much less like the severe, sterile and stern city he knew it to be, and the whole landscape was bathed in the gauzy, ethereal radiance of a new day.  And at the center of it all… his shoe.

((Fal hates being outside in the snow, but at least there’s the silver lining of it being really, really pretty?  NGL - this was inspired entirely by a tiktok video. Thanks for putting it on my dash, @chronicallykiki!))

[snarkwrites]

13.12, heat, ray palmer [m]

Title: heat

Theme: bonfire - look, i swear, this relates to the theme ya’ll. It’s.. bonfire adjacent.

Fandom / Character(s): Legends Of Tomorrow/Arrowverse,Ray Palmer (atom) and OFC, Avaleigh Benson.

Warnings: Filth. Sweet and gentle, loving filth. Unprotected filth. Pretty much it... Kids, go outside. Read a book. This is not for you.

Word Count: 2.5 k, roughly. 

And I thought, what better way to start 12 Days Of Christmas challenge from @champbucks this year than to write about Ray. because I love him and I want to. Well, apparently, just writing about him wasn’t enough. I had to write sweet filthy things with him. So, here we are. Enjoy?

Also.. I made the banner. So don’t steal it or repost.

TAGGING:

@chasingeverybreakingwave & @helluvawriter 

[ about my writing | masterlist | multifandom tag doc ]

“There’s a snowstorm blowing in. We should stop and make shelter for the night.” Ray stated it matter-of-factly as he nodded towards the abandoned cabin just a few feet ahead in a clearing. I eyed the cabin and then him and snorted, shaking my head no vigorously. 

“Ray, no. I’m sure if we keep walking, we’ll be fine. And we might even find the Waverider.”

“We’re stuck.” Ray came to a full stop and whirled around, staring down at me. “We’re stuck and we’re lost. I can’t even tell how far we are from the nearest town, let alone the one we have to be in. It’s safer if we make shelter now. Trust me on this.”

I went silent, biting my lip. The darkness was settling in. The temperature was rapidly dropping too and it only served a reminder that I’d come out with Ray on this mission with my thinnest leather jacket.

My only actual jacket.

We were lost in the woods, in the freezing cold. On Christmas Eve, no less.

I stopped walking because for a second or two, I could’ve sworn that I heard the ringing of a lone church bell. But the wind picked up and I hugged myself real tight, straining to hear over the sound of it howling. “I thought I heard a bell, Ray.”

“Me too. But we need to get inside, okay? It’s freezing out here. You’re freezing.” his eyes roamed over me and he shook his head. He started to remove his own thicker jacket but I shook my head no stubbornly. “I’m.. I’ll be fine, okay? Let’s just.. Get in that cabin I guess.”

Every part of me wanted to object heavily about what I was agreeing to. As a horror fan, I’ve seen what the cabin in the middle of the forest might be home to and frankly, I wanted no part of my skin being made into a suit.. Or being someone’s appetizer.

We were just a few feet from the cabin by now and I stopped, hesitant to get any closer.

“Ray, maybe this isn’t a good idea.” I called out, fidgeting nervously. “What if someone does live here and we burst in there..”

“If someone lives here, then they can at least tell us where the nearest town is.. Maybe even give us a ride. Look. We’re not arguing about this, okay?”

The tone he said it in caught me off guard a little. But it also served to make me realize that I was being childish, to an extent. And probably annoying and or possibly slowing Ray down. The thought had me nodding and going silent.

I took a deep breath as I gazed at the cabin.

“At least knock!” I hissed as Ray stepped onto the porch and approached the door.

Ray knocked and my breath caught in my throat. When the door swung open, Ray peered in and I hissed, “Are you shitting me? Have you not watched a horror movie, sir? It never goes well for the nosy ones!”

Ray stepped into the cabin and I swore up a storm quietly, stepping onto the porch and through the door behind him. Right behind him, literally.

Ray turned back, I guess to tell me that it was safe and all was clear, the cabin was empty, but instead, we found ourselves body to body. I swallowed hard and stared up at him, poking my tongue out. “You know you’re fucking lucky, right?”

“Not lucky. I just know how to tell when a place is empty or not.” Ray shrugged, a hand raising to rake slowly through dark and shaggy hair. I grumbled a little. And it hit me then, neither of us had really taken any decent amount of steps back or away from one another. 

Another loud gust of wind blew through, making the old glass windows in the cabin rattle and I hugged myself just a little tighter. Ray rubbed his hands together and then placed them on my upper arms. “This is going to be okay.”

“I know, I’m not scared.” I muttered, even managing to dredge up a halfway convincing eye roll and blow my hair out of my face as if I were just impatient or mildly annoyed at the setback and the situation we found ourselves in.

I was lying when I said it, of course, but I had far too much pride to own up to that. I took a deep breath and spoke up again. “We need to build a fire.. Something. And that fireplace looks like it hasn’t been used in a thousand years.”

“Probably only one hundred, but I see what you’re getting at. First, though.” Ray slipped off his thicker jacket, holding it out to me. Again, I shook my head. Too stubborn to accept the offer. And maybe, too afraid that if I did, having the scent of his cologne in my nose constantly might actually fuck around and be my undoing, at last.

“You’re freezing. Take it before you get hypothermia.” -again with the firm tone, Christ.. Are you trying to kill me, sir? 

“Nice try, Raymond. But that tone? Doesn’t always work on me.” I stared up at him, standing straighter, trying to make myself taller. To at least appear that the tone did nothing to me. To seem like I wasn’t quietly panicking. Like my first instinct wasn’t to melt against him and just.. Let him protect me.

Because God knows, it really was. And I didn’t know why, exactly and honestly? That kind of irked me.

The man just has this magnetic pull and I’ve been drawn in since I joined the team four and a half weeks ago.

I spotted an old axe leaning against the stone wall surrounding the fireplace and I stepped away from Ray, wandering over to it. Hefting it up with a quiet grunt.

I turned to find him right behind me and again, to find us body to body. He eyed me and the axe I was holding. “Where are you going?”

“We just established this, sir. We need a fire of some sort. So, I’m going to cut wood. Problem solved as soon as I find a dry enough spot out there to start it.” 

I went to step around him and his hand circled my wrist, prying the axe from it gently as he stared me down. 

“The only place you’re going is over there. To sit down and warm up. With my jacket. I’ll go find firewood, okay?”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m going to have to politely and respectfully tell you no. I can handle it. Besides, I need to… Think.”

And that I did, because as I stood there, another alarming thought came to mind. If we start a bonfire, that’s all well and good, but just how in the hell are we going to manage keeping warm when we’re trying to sleep?

There’s only one way I know for sure will do the trick and… Somehow, I get the distinct impression that Ray Palmer is not going to cuddle up with me all night. No matter how much I may or may not want him to.

He’s kind of been… Distant since I joined the team. Mick told me once over beers that it wasn’t so much me as it was Ray, going through a dark place at the time. He told me to just keep trying with the guy. To give him time and space. He’d come around and then I’d be wishing to all hell Ray would back off.

,, not likely” I found myself thinking as my mind replayed the conversation. In the process, I managed to miss Ray, taking the axe, putting his jacket around my shoulders and walking out of the cabin.

I wandered over to the window and pulled back the rough and ragged plaid covering it, peering out. Ray stood out in the snow, swinging the axe at a tree. I shook my head and laughed to myself softly.

The growling of my stomach reminded me that yes, I’d skipped out on breakfast.. And lunch.. In favor of more research and some alone time in the waverider’s library and I grumbled to myself, feeling around in the pocket of my own thin leather jacket.

When all I came up with was a pack of cinnamon chewing gum, I scowled and tossed it on the table beneath the window. “Naturally, I didn’t eat a fucking thing all day.” I mumbled to myself as I shook my head.

The thought had me wandering to the little area in the one room cabin that served as a kitchen. Peering in the cabinets and cupboard. There was canned food there, but I wasn’t sure how well I trusted my life to it. I mean, it looked relatively new, which I did find strange… Given that the cabin was empty. It was obvious that someone had been here and they’d been here recently.

Maybe it was a hunter’s shack or something. I put all my current nagging concerns about the cabin we’d found out of my head and went back to snooping around. I found a linen closet. A heavy blanket the only piece of actual bed linen stored away inside. And the blanket looked bright and vibrant.. Again, I reminded myself this might just be a hunting cabin. Or someone’s get away for weekends.

The door swung open, making me jump a little in surprise and I ran over, trying to take some of the wood from Ray’s arms.

“Wait a minute, I literally just saw you chopping away at that big tree..”

“Yeah, and I’d still be out there too if I hadn’t found the stack of firewood around the side of the cabin already cut.” Ray dragged a hand across his forehead and I laughed softly, shaking my head a little, despite my best efforts not to, stepping closer to him. The smell of wood and his cologne permeated the air around us and I licked my lips, taking a shaky breath as I stared up at him.

“We need to get the fire going. And you, sir… You need your jacket back. I’ll be fine.” I tapped my foot against old hardwood floor and tilted my head, looking up at him expectantly, waiting on him to take the jacket back.

“Why are you so stubborn?” Ray asked the question, pushing the jacket I’d taken off and held out to him back at me. I held it out again, more insistent. He grumbled, but when he saw that I wasn’t intent on giving in, he took the jacket, slipping it on.

After a few seconds of the most intense silence I’d ever endured in my life, he cleared his throat. And naturally, I was off in lalaland, revisiting the tangent from earlier about just how we’d keep warm while sleeping, so I jumped at least a foot in the air and put my hand over my heart.

“I make you tense.” Ray trailed off.

“No, no. It’s not you. It’s getting used to everything.” I shrugged, a little nervous because he honestly had not one clue just how dangerously close to the truth he was. “This is a lot to take in, sir.”

“You can call me Ray. Or Raymond. Sir’s a little.. Formal.” Ray was stepping a little closer. His hands settled on my upper arms, rubbing them as if he were trying to warm me up. I gulped because suddenly, it felt like all the air got sucked right out of the room.

“I’ve been calling you sir for over a month now and it didn’t bother you before.” I eyed him as I said it, curious. Why was he just now noticing? Why was it just now bothering him? That little sliver of hope sparked up and I tried my best to dampen it. Because surely, he’s not feeling the same magnets pull I am. He gives every sign to indicate otherwise. That he tolerates me, at best. That I might be an annoyance or in his way for the most part.

“It did, I just never said anything.” Ray mumbled, leaning down a little. His hand left my upper arm and smoothed over my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re soaked.”

,, you don’t know the half of it, Ray.” I thought to myself, clearing my throat abruptly. Oh, I was soaked alright... 

I should’ve backed away, stepped back.. Done something. Anything.

But honestly, I didn’t want to. I was freezing. Tired from the hike we’d taken from where the Waverider dropped us to here. Panicking because there hadn’t been any word from the team at all for hours now, so we had no way of knowing what was going on until they checked in. Hungry, because of course, I hadn’t eaten two meals today. And most of all, I was more than a little.. Frustrated. By my current little ongoing internal war where my feelings for Ray were concerned.

“Snow is wet.” I muttered quietly, my fingers curling in the front of his jacket. I was trying to will myself right out of anything that might be kicking around in my head. Anything I wanted to do that might just make tonight so much more awkward. I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“What?” Ray questioned, tucking his fingers beneath my chin to make me look up at him.

My mouth opened and closed. I didn’t dare say what was threatening to come out. Because I wasn’t entirely sure if he’d actually stopped to think about it yet, either.

“How are we gonna keep warm tonight?” I finally managed to find a way to phrase what I’d been thinking without seeming too forward or taking the risk of making things awkward as hell.

Ray took a shaky breath. I took at least two. Neither of us were saying anything. The soft bump of our bodies as we migrated closer had me gulping as I made myself hold his gaze. Waiting. Wondering what he’d say.

“Do you have any ideas?”

,, fuck. What exactly do I say here, huh?” I wondered to myself. I shrugged because shrugging was so much easier than opening my mouth and saying what I was really thinking. I raised my hand and dragged it through damp hair, shivering a little as a blast of cold air hit me. Ray’s hands settled on my sides, moving up and down slowly.

“You’re freezing. Let’s go out to the fire.”

I nodded. And for once, I didn’t put up an argument when he started to walk outside. I fell into step beside him, quietly trying to figure out just exactly how to answer what he’d asked without seeming… Forward.

Because the thoughts in my head were anything but proper at the moment. All I could think about was the way hard muscle and the warmth of him felt, pressed up against me cautiously like he had been for a little bit while we were in the cabin.

Ray dragged a thick log over and we sat down on it, staring into the fire.

“Body heat. The answer is body heat.” Ray shattered the silence with those words and I bit my lip, tearing my eyes off the fire to look up at him. He was looking at his hands, a quiet chuckle coming as if the thought only just occurred to him.

I coughed, mostly to cover up the fact that I was reeling more than  a little. To make some kind of sound to lift the tension a little. And finally, I found a response. “We’re both adults. Not like it’s a huge deal, Ray.”

Oh, but it was.

I didn’t dare let on how huge, either.

Ray managed a smile, nodding as he swallowed hard. “Right. Not a big deal at all.” he muttered quietly. I huddled against him a little, flashing a smile. His arm slid around me and god help me, I only barely stopped the whimper that was threatening to come out.

“This isn’t so bad.” I muttered quietly, my voice muffled by his jacket.

“It’s not.” Ray cleared his throat and answered, his voice husky. I could feel the warmth of the bonfire we’d made starting to take over, and combined with the body heat between Ray and I, I was starting to feel a little more relaxed.

I yawned and so did he.

“It’s late.” Ray mumbled, barely stifling a yawn as he spoke.

“Or early.” I mused, glancing up at him.

“If we’re going to try and regroup, figure out where we are and how far we are from where we need to be tomorrow, we need rest.” Ray spoke up again after a few seconds. I nodded in agreement.

“I think I saw a blanket in there. Some canned food too.. If we have to stick around.”

“I wonder why the team hasn’t made contact? I hope nothing’s happened.” Ray looked worried when he said it and I nodded again, agreeing with him. “They might have had an emergency stop or something.”

But honestly, it was worrying me too. It didn’t seem like they’d go hours without checking in. And almost as if on cue, the comm devices attached to our wrists went off in unison.

“Ray?”

“Avaleigh?”

“Yeah?”

Ray and I were looking at each other intently, waiting on our team members to speak.

Sara took over.

“How’s everything going?”

Ray and I raised a brow as we shared a look.

“Good? I mean except for us being lost in the forest?” I answered, a brow raised because something sounded off with Sara.

“Shit. The Waverider didn’t land where it was supposed to. Fuck.” Sara swore and took a few deep breaths. “Okay, let me try to track you guys.”

“Thank god. Maybe with some idea of where we are…” Ray trailed off. I held my breath, waiting.

“You guys are almost 10 miles from the town you need to be in. Okay, don’t panic..”

“We’re not.” Ray and I answered in unison. Ray continued, “We uhh, we found a cabin in the woods for the night.”

“Oh, thank god. Tomorrow, you two are gonna want to find a ride into town. We’ll check in again in the morning, bye!”

And like that, Sara was gone. I paced a little, trying to puzzle out exactly what had just taken place, because Sara was acting a little off. “You don’t think they’re in danger, right?”

“No, but I do think they’re up to something.” Ray mused aloud, rubbing his chin. He chuckled quietly, mumbling to himself as he shook his head about whatever it was that he was thinking.

I eyed him. I didn’t ask what he meant, either. I got the feeling that I might not want to know. Especially not given the fact that I know full well that Sara and Mick know exactly how I feel about Ray Palmer… No thanks to my big drunk mouth and lacking inhibitions, or me going all pouty when I got touchy-feely with Ray after a night of bar-hopping with Sara and Mick and then winding up spilling everything to Sara and Mick over beer the next morning at breakfast while Ray was still sleeping in our bunk.

It should’ve been glaringly obvious to me if I really stopped to think about it. But I wasn’t thinking about anything but the current situation.

And how uncomfortable I thought it was going to make Ray feel.

“I don’t… I feel like it’s gotta be a major emergency, otherwise, they’d have checked in before now.” I stretched and promptly hugged myself again when I realized just how much bite the cold air had to it. The fire was getting smaller.

I was so tired that I could barely hold my eyes open. One quick glance beside me showed that Ray was yawning, moving around a little to keep awake and keep warm and rubbing his eyes more than a little.

“We should probably put out our fire for now and go inside.. Try to figure out the sleeping thing.” I stood abruptly, because I was suddenly filled with energy and tension all at once. And not a bad tension either…

Ray, on the other hand… I was almost 1000 percent certain that he was either silently freaking out or silently annoyed that he was stranded here overnight with me and that we’d have to resort to body heat to keep warm.

Before he could say or do anything, I sprang up, hurrying towards the cabin. The one blanket I’d seen earlier looked reasonably thick, so that was a plus I supposed. By the time Ray stepped in and shut the door to the cabin tightly behind him, I was unfolding the blanket. 

I sat it to the side and slipped off my jacket, emptying the contents of the pockets on the table and when I heard the heavy clink of metal against wood, I smirked and grabbed for my father’s lucky Zippo.

I’d seen some candles in a drawer earlier too.

Turning my back to Ray, I busied myself digging through the drawers until I found the candles. My eyes settled on a row of old glass beer bottles lining the windowsill as if someone had been using them for makeshift vases.

When I couldn’t get the candles to fit properly, I took the bottle and hit it against the side of the heavy wooden table. The neck shattered away from the bottom portion and I took a candle from the box, shoving it down inside. I lit the candle and moved on to the next candle and bottle doing the same until I had all of the bottles filled with a candle and all of the candles lit.

I stuck my hand against the table and grimaced the second I felt a little shard of glass dig into the top layer of skin on my palm. “Ouch.”

“Let me see it.” Ray had just been standing there, leaned against the door, watching me and looking as if he were lost in thought until I got the glass stuck in my hand. Then he was across the room and at my side, reaching for my hand.

I squirmed, because a fun fact here… I am an actual giant baby when it comes to any sort of pain or illness. And the shard of glass had dug down into my palm pretty deep at this point.

“I’m fine. If you find my pocketknife there on the table, just hand it to me.” I nodded towards the spot on the table that my pocketknife had settled on when I emptied my jacket.

Ray eyed me as if I were losing my marbles. “You’re not fine. That’s in there pretty deep.”

I blew at my bangs and tapped my foot. “Hello, which one of us was basically living on her own at 11? I’ve got this, Ray.”

“You do realize you don’t have to do everything yourself… Right? Besides, I know where that knife’s been. I’ve seen how you use that knife. It’s definitely not sanitary to go digging out a shard of glass with.” Ray wasn’t letting go of the gentle grip he had on my wrist. I gazed down at the way he held my wrist in his hand and gulped to myself because it hadn’t ever really occurred to me just how big his hands were in comparison to my wrist.

Then again, to be fair.. He’s not been the touchy sort.

Until tonight.

And neither have I… Until a few nights ago when I went out bar crawling with Sara and Mick and proceeded to make an entire idiot out of myself flirting with the man when we all got back to the Waverider.

When I realized that we were migrating closer together all over again, I tilted my head, looking up at him quietly. “Fine. Go ahead, Dr.”

I flashed a smirk, even though every part of me was dying to snatch my wrist out of his hand because I am… Not a fan of pain. And I’m so used to doing all this stuff for myself that I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted anyone else to do this stuff for me but me. 

I jumped and flinched as he carefully tried to push the shard of glass to the surface of my skin. If I flinched and fidgeted any harder, I probably would’ve flown through the roof. Ray stopped and looked at me calmly.

“What? It freakin hurts, okay?” I babbled. Flinching again a second later when Ray caught hold of my wrist gently all over again and tried one more time to work the shard of glass to the surface.

“Are you done now?” Ray asked, his eyes locking on mine for a few seconds. If I thought the tension between us was high before, it felt… So much higher now.

So much higher. I almost couldn’t breathe.

“Okay,alright.” I tensed just to keep from squirming. Ray eyed me and I bit my lip because the look in his eyes was… Definitely an intense one. Smouldering. His touch got even more gentle and I didn’t think that was possible, given what he was trying to do. “Count to three out loud, Avaleigh.”

“One, two” and before I got to three, he was chuckling, holding the thin shard of glass up a little as he gave me a teasing grin. “Got it.”

“I didn’t even feel it, how?” I mumbled after a few seconds of staring.

Ray merely shrugged. He nodded to a stack of mattresses in the corner of the room, in front of a floor to ceiling window. The moon flooded the area with light and only added to the mood set by the lit candles, the flames shadows dancing on the walls. “We should probably get settled in.”

I eyed the mattresses for a second or two, shuffling my feet as I cleared my throat. I intended to answer him verbally, but the only sound that came was me, clearing my throat. Instead, I managed a nod and finally, my mouth seemed willing to work again.

“I put the blanket on that stool over there.. I’m gonna get comfortable.”

“Get comfortable?” Ray questioned, fidgeting slightly as he gazed down at me. His hand was lingering at my side and just the way it felt had me swallowing down a lump in my throat. If he had any clue how I actually felt, I found myself thinking, he wouldn’t touch me at all. Or I don’t believe he would.

“Silly man.” I stopped in front of him and tilted my head, flashing a bit of a teasing smirk up at him as I continued, “I’m an actual human furnace at night. I can’t sleep in layers.”

Ray coughed abruptly and for a second or two, yeah. I felt smug, because I got it in my head I was right. He wasn’t interested in me at all. In fact, I’d probably just made things awkward. Which bothered me, but for the time being, my weird brain being what it was, I chose to take comfort in the fact that yet again, I was right. I absolutely had to be. All the signs were there.

I slunk across the room, stopping in front of the door to the bathroom that I’d found earlier, while Ray was out getting wood for the fire we built outside. Pulling the handle, I stepped inside and after taking several long and deep breaths to center myself again, because god knew, all the touching and the looks and that firm fucking tone he kept taking with me tonight were all.. Combining to take it’s toll… I proceeded to strip down to my underwear and the thin strapped long tank top I’d had beneath the black and gray striped sweater I’d been wearing. Then I stopped and thought about it, and swearing under my breath, I slipped the thin sweater back down over my head too.

No sense in making him feel even more uncomfortable than he already did.

I could make it one night sleeping half clothed instead of naked as I preferred.

I stepped back out into the main part of the cabin and stretched, making my way over to the mattresses, walking right past Ray as I did so. I flopped down on the pile of mattresses, wiggling around until I got as comfortable as I could while still leaving Ray some room. Ray made his way over to the mattresses, carrying two of the candles over, sitting them on the little stool sitting next to them. And he bent, about to climb over me to settle in behind, pausing, hovering over me and staring down.

I bit my lip, staring right back up at him. It felt like everything around us just sort of...Froze. Or disappeared altogether.

He leaned down a little. “This is okay… Right?” he asked quietly. The way his voice dropped almost to an intimate whisper had me barely biting back a whimper.

“We’re adults, Ray. It’s fine. Besides, I don’t fancy being taken out by hypothermia, okay? I.. Trust you.”

“You trust me.” Ray repeated quietly, getting the slightest hint of a goofy grin as he did so. I licked my lips and tried not to stare at his mouth. More to the point, just how close it was to mine right now. Or the way it felt, with him lightly pressing into my body from above. I wiggled a little before I could stop myself, causing us to rub together. He sucked in a breath. Kept staring down at me, biting his lip. 

“I just said that, didn’t I?” I mumbled, mostly to break the silence hanging heavy in the air. To distract myself from what my mouth really wanted to do at the moment. He chuckled quietly, nodding down at me with that goofy and bright grin still plastered on his face. “You did.”

“Are you getting in? Or do you want me to move over…” the question was asked awkwardly. I was horrible at this. The worst. You’d think that knowing I had not a snowballs chance in hell with Ray Palmer would make me bolder somehow, but it didn’t.

It only made each touch… every single one, accidental or not… that much more intimate. It had me tense because I couldn’t even catch my breath around the man right now. I was stuck in a cabin with him overnight and it only amplified the fact that I wanted what I couldn’t have.

Ray swallowed hard and climbed over me, settling in behind me. He started out lying on his back, his arm behind his head. I tried to hug the side of the mattress that I was on, despite knowing that we were supposed to be trying to keep body heat between the two of us. I just… Couldn’t.

“This isn’t going to work…” Ray spoke up and I rolled over to face him, biting my lip. “It will. And this blanket is thicker than I thought.” I mumbled the words, lost in his eyes. He shook his head and insisted, “We’ll never keep enough body heat between us to stay warm with you trying to hug the edge of the bed, Avaleigh.”

“I didn’t want to crowd you.”  I muttered in a daze, still staring. 

“You won’t be. And you feel like you’re freezing. Human furnace my ass.” Ray air quoted what I’d said before getting into bed, his words falling away as he started to stare at me all over again. I moved just a little closer. “Better?” I inquired as I yawned.

“You can get closer. I can’t keep you warm if you’re still halfway off the bed, Avaleigh.”

I moved a little closer. Our bodies were brushing together now. My heart may have fluttered a little because I could feel hardened muscles pressing against my body and the contrast felt so good. My breath caught in my throat as he put an arm over me and he eyed me.

“Are you okay?” Ray’s quietly mumbled question sent a shiver right through me because I’d been adrift in my own thoughts and internal conflict and I forgot how close we were lying together.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is good.” I flashed him my best grin. Inside? I was… melting. Literally dying to get closer. Even though I was body to body with him in the little bed already. I felt his fingertips digging into my lower back just a little and I was pulled even closer. Somehow, my head wound up nestled just above the center of my chest and when my lips brushed right against bare skin, I felt his body shiver beneath them. His fingertips dug in even more.

I bit my lip, raising my head to look at him as if I were asking if it were okay. He chuckled quietly and his other hand wound up dragging slowly through my hair. Catching here and there, playing with strands before tucking beneath my jawline. His mouth inched closer to mine and time seemed to slow to a stop.

It felt like a lifetime, but his lips brushed mine clumsily. My hand raised, lingering on his shoulder for a second or two. But that didn’t feel right somehow, so I moved it, my fingers dragging through shaggy and dark hair, tugging at it lightly, just to be greedy and deepen the kiss.

I never imagined Ray Palmer liked to bite when he kissed. I’d always just… sort of thought it’d be soft and clumsy, gentle like I know he is. But this kiss was so much more than that. It was gentle and yet it felt desperate. Full of desire. His mouth locked on my bottom lip and I whimpered into the kiss. He pulled me partially on top of him and I trailed my tongue over the outline of his mouth hungrily. His fingers tangled in the ends of my hair, gathering it at the back of my neck and using his grip to pull me into the kiss even deeper. When he bucked into me from below, I whined into his mouth, rocking right back against him.

The kiss broke and we pulled apart, gasping for our next breath, wide eyed. I swallowed hard, preceded immediately by a few shaky breaths and my mouth opened and closed as words failed me all over again, but Ray was already raising to sit, putting me in his lap with my legs wrapped around him.

This is not how I pictured tonight going by any stretch of my imagination and I was frantically combing back over the way it had gone so far to try and piece things together and figure out if I’d missed anything somehow.

“You’re overthinking. You always get a wrinkle in your brows.” Ray muttered in a husky tone against my mouth, smirking at me a little.

“Oh, I’m overthinking, huh?” I challenged.

But one of us had to think a little. And honestly, my mind was still blown.

Ray’s hands moved up and down my sides gently. That hungry look was back in his eyes again and I gave up trying to puzzle it all out. I knew what I wanted. Obviously, this was what he wanted at the moment.

The hungry gaze turned serious and he pulled me in more, rocking me right over the way he strained at his jeans, which he’d opted to keep on. I hissed against his mouth, a whine coming on the tail of the sound. “Ray.”

“Want you so much, darling. It’s driving me insane.” he muttered against my mouth as it fell open willingly. His tongue trailed over my lips, then outlined my teeth, before finally meeting mine in a deeper and slower kiss. A kiss he seemed determined to draw out until neither of us could breath on our own and were breathing together instead.

His hands roamed more, moving lower down my body. Slow. Gentle and deliberate as if he were learning every single curve to my body to commit to memory. 

“I’m right here. I’ve been right here the whole time. You have no idea how much I want you. How much I care… I love you.” I blurted it out, a quiet helpless whisper against his lips before I could restrain myself and the fact that the words were out there felt so freeing.

I melted against him completely, my legs squeezing the sides of his body as they circled his waist. When the kiss broke, I took his face in my hand, dragging my thumb over his lower lip, leaving it to quiver as I did so.

The more I rocked against him, the louder his groans got against the shell of my ear. The harder his fingers dug in and the more his hands roamed my body. Fingers gripped the hem of my sweater with precision and in a split second, he was tugging the thin garment up and over my head, letting it settle on the floor as his mouth continued to dominate mine hungrily. “Say it again, Avaleigh.”

“Say what?” I asked the question despite knowing full well exactly what I’d just said and what he wanted me to repeat. And given what Sara told me about how close he’d been to Kendra and just how that had ended, I kind of had the feeling I knew exactly why he needed me to repeat it.

“You know what you said, sweetheart.” Ray’s tone was thicker, laced heavily with desire he wasn’t bothering to hide now. That hungry look in his eyes was so much hungrier when they fixed on mine as he pulled away to stare and roll his thumb over my swollen and bruised lips.

“I love you.” I meant it and I’d say it a thousand times, but at the particular moment, I said it because I’d do anything to get his lips back against mine. His hands wandering all over me again, squeezing and rubbing. Touching me in that gentle way. I’d never felt quite that special in my life.

His touch had me melting. His kisses had me addicted.

My fingertip trailed down the center of his chest, toying with the button to his jeans as I rocked against him urgently. I could feel my underwear soaking through and I knew he had to feel it, there had to be a wet spot forming on his lap where I was sitting, grinding myself against the bulge strained at his jeans. 

“I mean it, Ray.” I promised, pulling his face closer, my mouth latching onto his lip, nipping and sucking until he was bucking himself right up into me and moaning into my mouth as my tongue slipped between his lips when they parted. His hand dragged through my hair and settled on the back of my neck, pulling my mouth in completely as he deepened the kiss and took over, a low growl hanging in the air only to be swallowed by the kiss just before it broke and we took a few seconds to breathe.

“I love you too. Kind of why I kept my distance, Avaleigh.” Ray admitted quietly, a sigh following as his shoulders dropped a little, almost as if he were ashamed to admit it. “Then the other night when you came back and you were touching me and flirting, I..” before he could finish, I was melting against him all over again, my fingers tugging impatiently at the waistband of his jeans, snagging the button and pulling it free from the buttonhole. His teeth scraped against my bottom lip.

“You’re sure?” he breathed out against my mouth, his breath shaky. I licked my lips and nodded, not a second's hesitation. My finger trailed slowly over the zip of his jeans and his breath caught in his throat. 

“Ray, c’mon… Please?” I begged, rocking myself over the bulge and bearing down just a little harder as I did so, an urgent and needy whine escaping my throat. Ray’s hand slipped down between us, palm settling against my soaked panties and he growled as he closed the distance between our mouths and bodies all over again.

“You’re so wet already… How? I haven’t done anything.” he mumbled lazily as he worked me onto my back, positioning his body between my legs to keep them open. His hand cupped and squeezed me through my underwear and he leaned down, mouth catching against mine clumsily, a brief little peck as he moved from my mouth down the front of my throat.

I never once stopped to think that Ray might like to bite.. But his teeth latched onto soft skin and a shiver raced through me as I raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck. My fingertips dug into muscular shoulders just a little deeper and his body tensed and released tension under my fingertips as he crashed his mouth against mine all over again after his mouth ventured up my neck and met my lips all over again because I was whining, begging him for another kiss. 

We’d both long forgotten about how cold we were. We’d both forgotten about any earlier awkwardness. Everything was just rapidly melting away and suddenly, I was dreading tomorrow when we’d have to leave the solitude of our little found paradise behind.

One of his hands wound up on my thigh, squeezing as he rocked himself against me and his other hand cupped and squeezed my dripping sex, practically growling every time his hand came away a little wetter than before. I rose to sit as best as I could and lowered my hand, tugging impatiently at the slipping waistband of his jeans, gazing up at him as I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

He nuzzled his nose against mine and chuckled softly, slipping from between my legs to stand, letting his jeans hit the floor and pool around his ankles. He kicked them free and they settled on the floor a few inches away from my discarded sweater. Then he was lowering himself all over again, settling between my legs and his hands were all over me. Slipping beneath my tank top and working it up, letting me raise up so that he could pull it off and toss it over his shoulder before gently pushing me flat against the mattress all over again, a hand at either side of my head as he rocked into me and I met each barely clothed thrust with a thrust of my own, my moans echoing quietly into the room surrounding us and disappearing into thin air. 

My hand slipped down between our bodies almost around the same time as his fingers caught in the banding of my panties and the quiet rip of fabric filled the air between us. He tossed them on the floor and I tugged at the waistband of his boxer briefs, pouting up at him. He rose up, letting them hit the floor, kicking them free at his ankle to join the growing pile of clothing on the floor around the mattresses already. 

And then he was pressing himself against me completely. Carefully, as if I were made of glass. Touching me all over, his mouth dancing all over my skin and when he wasn’t kissing, touching me, he was staring down at me with this look of total adoration in his eyes and I was looking back up at him the same way.

He leaned down to kiss me and our faces bumped making both of us laugh softly. His hands slipped down to my sides, gripping and as soon as I felt his thick cock graze right against my folds, I whimpered and rocked myself up into him just for more friction. As if all the friction I’d gotten earlier wasn’t enough. I was aching, throbbing even. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

“Sorry.” he apologized and I giggled, playfully latching onto his lower lip with my teeth and rubbing myself against him as much as I possibly could. His cock brushed against my center again and I whimpered, catching hold of his face, mumbling against his mouth in a pleading whisper, “Ray, please. Need you now, baby.”

“Now, huh?” Ray muttered back against my mouth. His fingers squeezed my sides as he started to bury himself inside me slowly, peppering kisses over my face and neck, his thrusts long and slow. Our hips smacked softly with the connection of each one and I sighed in content as his forehead rested against mine and we locked eyes. My breath caught in my throat as the tension really melted away. I could feel him stretching me, and it felt so good. Amazing.

My hands wandered up, resting on his shoulders, my fingertips digging into them lightly. Carefully, because I didn’t want to hurt him and I didn’t know if he’d be the type to appreciate marks left behind in the morning.

Then his mouth broke from mine, moving slowly down the front of my throat.. Dragging across my collarbones and up the side of my neck, dancing lightly over my pulse before latching lazily on exposed skin. I could feel the mark forming as he kissed and sucked my neck and I moaned, rocking my hips against him just a little faster, desperate for him to pick up the pace, needy as hell.

“Ray, oh.. Fuck. Raymond.” I moaned out, writhing beneath him. My fingertips dug into his shoulders just a little bit. If he was going to leave marks and everything, I was going to. My hands were all over him, leaving where they rested on his shoulders to slip down, gently dragging my fingertip down his chest or move my hands over his sides. 

Something about me using his full first name as opposed to merely calling him Ray had him snapping. His hips snapping against mine faster, a little harder. His touches got a lot more.. Intense. His teeth tugged at my lower lip and his hand slipped up my side, resting against my neck, his fingers caressing my cheeks. He rolled a thumb over my kiss swollen lips and gave a loving gaze. “Warm enough, Avaleigh?”

“Getting warmer.” I whimpered as he drove deeper, his hips smacking softly against mine with each deep thrust. My hands drifted back up, over his biceps, resting on his shoulders again, gripping and squeezing each time he managed to bottom out or hit my spot and make me moan just a little more. His mouth crashed against mine all over again, a kiss so deep that I forgot to breathe somewhere in the middle of it all. “That’s good.” the soft tone combined with the low gravel of his voice had me biting my lip as I stared up at him, raising a hand, dragging my thumb over his bottom lip.

Every single touch felt so gentle and intimate between us that I was honestly just a step away from going into overload. It was like something in both of us snapped. We couldn’t touch or kiss, rub against each other enough. I absolutely loved it.

My legs raised, wrapping around his hips. The new angle had him groaning into my mouth as our mouths collided all over again. His hands moved down my sides, one settling on my thigh and the other on my hip as he continued to plow into me, driving my body into the pile of mattresses just a little. The kiss broke, his mouth wandering down my neck, leaving a string of bruises and bites behind that I barely felt because they were that gentle. 

“Feels so good.” he mumbled in a daze, stopping to rest his forehead against mine again and stare into my eyes as he worked on catching his breath and I worked on catching mine, pouting because I’d been so damn close to an orgasm shattering through me and again, he stopped. His breath tickled the shell of my ear as his mouth brushed against it and he whispered quietly, “So beautiful.”

“Look whos talking, handsome.” I managed to moan out the words as his thrusts sped back up all over again, only to slow when I could feel my body starting to coil and tense as my orgasm started to build all over again.

The soft and goofy grin he gave as I said it had me giggling against his mouth softly. Our bodies were fully pressed together and his hands glided all over mine, not resting or lingering too long in one certain area. “I love this. I love you. So much, princess.” the lazily muttered words against my skin had my breath catching in my throat and before I could stop myself,  I was repeating them. “I love you too, Ray… Ah- oh.. Right there.” I moaned out as I felt his cock strike my spot and bottom out, my orgasm threatening to shatter through at any second. I almost couldn’t hold back anymore.

My fingertips dug into his side and his lower back, driving him even deeper inside and his mouth crashed against mine, a deep and needy kiss that seemed to deepen even more with each meeting of our bodies and deep thrust into my dripping sex. “Raymond.” I moaned out, my back arching. Ray coaxed quietly, “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go for me.” as his lips left mine, roaming down the front of my throat, teeth grazing against skin.

I needed no further coaxing. My orgasm shattered through, leaving me whimpering and clinging to him as I kept rocking my hips upward to meet his thrusts. His thrust got more erratic with each one and he was kissing me anywhere he could get his mouth, nipping and biting, his hands gripping my body as he fucked into me faster and deeper. “Oh.. Mmm. Taking me so well, darling.” he growled against my neck huskily as his lips locked on my skin, leaving another mark behind. “I don’t want to stop.” he trailed off, me surprising myself when my response was to say “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, Ray.”

I could feel him throbbing, filling me up as he pulled me closer, held onto me tighter and his thrusts slowed down, eventually coming to a stop. As he worked on catching his breath, his hand moved over my face tenderly and he stared down into my eyes. 

“Merry Christmas.” he gave a goofy smirk as he said it and I could my cheeks flaming up. I pulled him down almost completely on top of my, my arms going around his neck. His hands cradled the back of my hair, fingertips tangling in it as his forehead rested against mine and we both yawned and worked on catching our breath, kissing softly. He fell to the spot in bed next to me and pulled me on top of him, his arms locking around me to hold me in place and kissed the bridge of my nose, laughing when I yawned too.

“We should probably attempt sleep. We have.. A long day tomorrow.”

“Lots of walking.” Ray mused, squeezing me tighter.

[cassnottiel]

hi! i Loved your teen Deke s5 au and now all i can think about is how Fitzsimmons would react to him getting shot (Because the show never gave us any and that makes me Sad)

Deke had dragged a chair out to the hallway outside Fitzs cell, and he was lounging in it.

"Take your feet off the glass."  Fitz said with a roll of his eyes.  "I don't like staring at the bottoms of your shoes."

"Then don't stare at the bottoms of my shoes."  Deke said, like it was the most obvious solution.  "It's that easy."

Fitz stood and walked over to the glass.  "Aren't I supposed to be an authority figure?"

"Yeah, but I'm not a kid."  Deke smiled up at his grandfather.

"Yes, you are."  Fitz corrected.  "You're seventeen, a child in the eyes of the law."  He rapped his knuckles on the glass.  "Off."

Deke made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing, but he swung his feet down so they were planted on the concrete floor.  He must have moved his head too sharply in the process, because he started blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision, and pressed his fingers on his left hand to his temple.

"I'm sorry."  Fitz said quietly, remembering the exact way he swung the wrench at his own grandsons head.

Deke shook his head carefully and put a smile back on his face.  "Don't, I'm fine."  He checked the watch on his wrist, the one Fitz gave him.  "I think I should get going, we're leaving soon."

"Are you sure you should be going on a mission?"  Fitz asked worriedly.

Deke scoffed and smiled.  "We're just going to get Robin and come back.  No risk of injury beside tripping over things."  Fitz finally let up and smiled back.  "I'll be back in no time."

But Fitz was gone when he came back, and so was Simmons.

"Hi," Robins mother said to Deke, "I don't think we've met.  I'm Polly."  She held out her hand.

"Deke."  He gave a small smile and shook her hand.  "So," he turned back to look at Robin through the window of the conference room, "that's Robin."

"I suppose you've never met her before."  Polly mused.  "She must be a big deal at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No, I've met her."  Deke said.  "Just-- later."

Polly frowned.  "How?"

"I'm from the future."  He said plainly.  "They accidentally brought me back with them."

Polly looked at Deke in surprise.  "So, Robin was an adult when you met her?"

Deke nodded.  "Yeah."  

"How old are you?"  She asked, finally taking time to look at him.

Deke smiled awkwardly.  "I'm seventeen."  When Polly opened her mouth to say something probably parental, Deke cut her off.  "They thought I was their age for a week and by the time I told them, it was too late.  I was already helping."

"Why are you coming on this mission?"  Polly asked, sounding slightly horrified.  

"My grandparents said I could."  Deke just made Polly even more confused.  "Fitz."

"I can . . ." Polly nodded numbly.  "I can see that."

Suddenly, in the conference room with Robin, May stood up and ran out, holding one of the drawings.  Deke followed, and Polly went to her daughter.

May didn't say anything, just held the drawing up for Daisy.  Daisy took it, studied it, then looked up.

"Coulson."

"Yeah," May almost smiled, "she's seen him."

Daisy started walking to one of the holo-tables.  "Let's start searching for landmarks that might match."  She placed the paper color side down and it started scanning.  Deke followed silently, doubting three crudely drawn mountains could lead them anywhere.

"It won't be easy, but that might be where he is."  May said hopefully.

The picture had two figured in it, one had something black on his chest.  Deke did not like the potential message behind that.

The computer beeped, and pictured a mountain range similar to the one from Robins drawing.  Daisy smiled as the coordinates appeared under the range.

May ran to the pilots seat.  "Re-routing now."

"Wait, we're going there right away?"  Deke asked, following the women.  "What about Robin and Polly?"

"It's sub-zero out there, Coulson could be in trouble."  Daisy said.  "We don't have time to go back to the Lighthouse."

Deke sighed.  There's no fighting with both Daisy and May, especially on a topic like Coulsons safety.  So he waited, and tried his best to help with the search.  

After three hours of circling, Daisy slammed her fist on the table in front of her.  "We're never going to find him!  We've been searching the Trident Range for hours, and still no sign of Coulson and whoever he's with."

"Well," Deke tried to make his voice sound as helpful as possible as he picked up Robins picture, "what if this hasn't happened yet?  Maybe it doesn't happen for another month, or year--"

"You're not helping."  May snapped.

Daisy sighed and put her hands on her hips.  "Maybe we should change tactics."

May turned to her.  "What are you thinking?"

"The cloud cover's too thick to see through, anyway."  Daisy looked out the pilots window.  "We should land, canvass the area on foot, let Coulson find us."

May shook her head.  "Hales hideout could be nearby.  We'd be exposed."

"Give him a shot."  Daisy said desperately.  The two women had a silent conversation with their eyes for a few seconds.

May nodded.  "If you think it's the right call."

"Davis," Daisy called up to the cockpit, "find a place for us to land."

As the plane was landing, Deke approached the acting director.  "Hey, I can stay with Robin and Polly if you--"

"You're coming with."  Daisy cut him off.  She held out a gun.  "You know how to use these, right?"

Deke nodded and took it numbly.  "Are you sure I should be coming?  I'm not even an agent."

"Deke."  She grabbed him by his shoulders.  "You will be fine.  It's just a rescue."

He nodded.  The cargo door lowered, and Daisy ran out, shortly followed by May and Deke.  The search was slow, until they heard a familiar voice shouting.

"Run!"  That was Coulson.  

Deke followed May and they sprinted toward the source of the voice and subsequent footsteps.

Someone wearing a mask and wielding a chakram was about to throw their blade, but got thrown into a rock by Daisy quaking them.  

"Take them back to the Zephyr."  Daisy ordered, then turned to the current enemy.  "I'll take care of her."

"Not a chance."  May said.

"It's a rescue mission, look at them."  Daisy pointed to Coulson and the other man, who Deke was helping up from the snow.  May sighed, nodded, and started helping the men walk.  "Deke, watch their backs."  Daisy said, then turned back to the enemy.

"Who's the kid?"  The slightly crazed man asked loudly as he stumbled, held up by Coulson and May.

"Deke Shaw, this is Glenn Talbot."  Coulson said.  "Glenn, that's Deke."

"Do you think Daisy needs help?"  Deke glanced back at the sounds of a fight.

May and Coulson glanced at each other.  "That kid cut Yo-Yos arms off."  May said.  "We'll meet you back at the Zephyr."

Deke nodded and started back to where they left Daisy.  He held his gun ready, watching as a girl who couldn't be older than him fight Daisy, and then get quaked into a tree.

"What are you still doing here?"  Daisy asked sternly when Deke emerged from the trees, gun pointed at the girl.

He started walking over to the unconscious girl, rolling his eyes.  "I thought she had you for a sec--"

Rapid gunshots ripped through the air.  Before he could look for the source, Deke felt a pain in shoulder and fell to the ground.

"Deke!"  Daisy was next to him seconds later, hauling him up.  "We gotta get out of here. Let's go."  She slung his left arm over her shoulders and pressed her hand against the bullet wound.

Making it up the ramp into the cargo hold was Hell, and he fell to the metal floor as soon as they were at the top.  Deke blearily made out Coulson running in to help, pressing his hand against the source of bleeding.  Deke felt his own blood soaking through his shirt, pooling under him as he started up at the ceiling, kicking weakly.  He'd always had a high pain tolerance, but at that moment, he could barely see, barely breathe without wanting to pass out.

But he didn't pass out.  He couldn't.  He told Fitz he would be fine.

"Hold him still."  Coulsons voice sounded as if Deke was listening from under water.

"That's not a good sign."  Deke said with what little voice he had left.  Something sharp stabbed into his wound, and that's when it became too much.  Deke screamed, tried to arch his back up and get away from whatever Coulson was doing to him, but Daisy was holding him down.  He didn't listen to any of the words being said above him, he tried to focus on his breathing.  Since that seemed to be the only thing left he could do, with his vision going white and blurry.

Somehow, he ended up sitting with a blanket wrapped around him and half his shirt cut off.  He was shivering.

Daisy quietly approached and held out her hand.  "Here, take these."  Deke took the offered painkillers and water without saying anything.  "We're landing soon."  She leaned against one of the large crates.  "That was reckless back there, Deke."

"Are you this kind to everyone who takes a bullet for you?"  Deke didn't look at her.  His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

"You were the reason we had to retreat."  Daisy was having none of his forced humor.

"Well, I'm sorry."  Deke sighed.  "Next time I'll try to keep all of my blood inside my body."

"I had Hales daughter down for the count, we could have captured her."  Daisy scolded.

"Yeah, she was down."  Deke mustered as much of a glare he could before it turned into a grimace.  "And I was trying to secure her weapon, like any other agent would."

"You're not an agent!"  Daisy snapped.

"Oh, really?  Then maybe you should stop ordering me around like I am one!"  Something was at the back of Dekes throat, he coughed.

"What does it matter if you won't listen?"  Daisy was raising her voice as Deke continued to cough.  "I can't fight and protect you at the same time."

"You are the worst!"  Deke matched her volume.  "I was trying to give you backup, even though--" another coughing fit overtook his need to argue.  He doubled over.

Daisy grabbed the water bottle she had set aside.  "Here, have some water."  When he didn't sit back up, she tried again.  "Deke?"

The coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth as Deke kept coughing.  He heard it splatter on the metal floor, and he couldn't keep himself in the seat anymore.

"Deke!"  Daisy caught him and lowered him to the floor slowly.  He didn't hear anything else, he passed out.

Deke woke up on a table, with something over his mouth, and someones hand in his chest.  It was worse than whatever Coulson had done on the Zephyr, by a very, very long shot.

"We're trying to help you."  A murky voice said near his uninjured shoulder.  There were two sets of hands holding him down to the table he was on.  Something pricked his arm, and his head fell back.  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was out again.

- - -

When Deke woke up again, it was more groggy than sudden, and he wasn't in nearly as much pain.

"Welcome back."  Mack pulled the oxygen mask off Dekes face.

"You are on a lot of drugs."  Piper said slowly, to make sure he understood.  "But, hey, good news -- you didn't die."

"Thank you."  Dekes voice quiet, surprised.  He looked down at the bandages wrapped around his chest and brought one of his hands up to cover where the wound was.  "You guys saved me."  But something was missing, his foggy mind told him.

"We're just glad you pulled th--"

"Where's Jemma?"  Deke cut Mack off, looking around in confusion.  That's what was missing, Nana and Bobo.  "Why didn't she fix me?"  He sighed heavily.  "Fitz is going to be so mad at me, I told him I wouldn't get hurt."  His words were slurring together.  There was no way he wasn't under the influence of some chemical.  

"Hey, worry about yourself for a few minutes."  Mack said.  "You almost bled out."

Deke blinked a few times, staring up at the bright ceiling.  "But where's Jemma?"  He asked.  "Shouldn't she be here?"

"Simmons is . . ." Piper glanced at Mack, ". . . out.  She and Yo-Yo went out for a little bit."

Deke knew that couldn't be right, but he was too tired and on too many drugs to think.  So instead he changed the subject.  "Can you not tell Fitz I got shot?"  His voice was quieter.  "I don't want him to say 'I told you so.'"

"I don't think he'd say that."  Mack and Piper looked nervously at each other.

"But he's kind of mean sometimes."  Deke closed his eyes and struggled to open them again.  "But I think he likes me, so that's a good thing."

The next time Deke woke up, he was alone.  He sighed and stood up, making as little noise as possible out of habit.  He found a shirt that wasn't covered in blood and cut to shreds, and a grey sweater that looked like it belonged to Fitz.

Fitz.

Fitz was going to be so mad.  Deke walked as fast as he could to the elevator, hissing through his teeth the whole way.

"Deke?"  Mack found him.  "Why are you out of bed?  You just got shot, you should be resting."

"Hey," Deke raised his hand to wave, but dropped it soon after, squeezing his eyes shut with a pained grunt.  Coulson followed behind Mack and rushed to the teenagers side.

"If you're going to get up without taking the time to get better, at least put that arm in a sling."  Mack muttered.  "We're going to control, where you can sit down and rest for a little."

"No."  Deke protested weakly.  "I told Fitz I would go see him when I got back."  Mack and Coulson exchanged a look.  "What?"

"Fitz and Simmons are gone."  Coulson said as softly as he could.  

"They left with Yo-Yo right after you guys left."  Mack explained, placing a hand on Dekes uninjured shoulder.  "That's why Simmons didn't operate."

Deke nodded numbly and let the two men guide him to a chair in the control room and put his arm in a sling.  He gave a small wave and a wince to Daisy and May when they were on the video call, and perked up when they mentioned Fitz-Simmons were at the location they were on their way to.

"Are they okay?"  Deke asked, pushing himself up to stand and stumbling on his way to Coulsons side.

"Deke, go rest."  Daisy said without answering the question.

"Everyone, stop telling me to do that!"  He shrugged off Coulsons offered help and braced his good arm on the table in front of him.  "Just tell me if my grandparents are okay."

Daisy sighed.  "Hale says they are.  We'll be back as soon as we can."

As soon as they could was hours.  Deke had dozed off again and refused to go back to his quarters in case he missed something, so he was slumped over against an a table that wasn't being used.  He was up at the slightest noise, and Coulson and Mack starting off down a hallway was anything but slight.

Deke followed as fast as he could and stopped in front of the door to the hanger.

First in was Daisy and May, then Yo-Yo, then Fitz and Simmons, hand in hand.  As soon as the newly-weds saw Deke, they started walking faster.  Deke ran to meet them.

The teenager threw his good arm around his grandparents in a hug, but pulled away almost immediately, swearing through his teeth.  The Fitz and Simmons' relieved expressions fell and were replaced with concern in an instant.

"What happened?  Are you alright?"

"Who did this to you?"

Deke gave a tired, strained laugh.  "Hale shot me, I'm fine now."

"How can you say that?!"  Fitz exclaimed.

"Who fixed the wound?"  Simmons blanched.  "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

Deke slowly started walking back into the base.  "Mack and Piper operated."

"Operated?!"  Fitz yelled, following quickly.

"You had to have surgery?!"  Simmons yelled at the same time, not far behind.

"You told me there would be no risk of injuring yourself."  Fitz sounded angry, but more with himself than anything.

"I, uh," Deke swallowed, "I tripped and fell on a bullet."

"You already told us you got shot."  Jemma rubbed his good arm.

"Sorry."  Deke tried to shrug.  "They gave me really strong pain killers."

Jemmas eyes widened.  "They're not qualified to prescribe drugs like that or perform any sort of surgery."  She pointed to the elevator.  "Come on, I'm checking the wound to make sure they fixed you right."

"I don't know, I think they did a pretty good job."  Deke smiled and made eye contact with Mack, then said his next words just loud enough to be heard by the mechanic.  "You know, considering I woke up in the middle of the surgery."

Macks eyes went wide, and the last thing he saw before the elevator closed was Deke, staring right into his eyes and wearing a smug smile, next to a horrified Leo Fitz and a furious Jemma Simmons.

God help him.

[tsc-updates]

Tessa Gray Birthday - One Shot

January 28 1879

Tessa came out onto the front steps of the Institute. It was snowing, and she had stupidly left her coat upstairs in her room. She would’ve gone back in, but she didn’t want to be late for this.

She felt a little bad for slipping out of the birthday celebrations. Everyone was having a great time. She would be having a great time as well if she hadn’t been expecting the upcoming event.

Earlier that month she had sent a letter requesting someone’s visit on this specific day. They were already planning to meet later this month, except they had been planning to meet on Blackfriars Bridge. Something purred against her leg. She looked down. Church was sitting pressed against her foot, watching the Institute’s gate very intensely.

She smiled and crouched down. She patted Church’s head, and luckily for her, he allowed. “Waiting for him too, kitten?”

Tessa.

She looked up. Jem was coming up the stairs, no sound of his footsteps on the stone steps. “Jem. Hi. You came.”

Of course, I came. Your message sounded urgent.

She nodded. “It is. Sort of. A little.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous. This is the first time I’ve seen you since…” She stopped there. Neither of them needed a reminder. Church left her feet and started rapidly strolling in circles around Jem, a loud purr all around them. Tessa giggled. “He really missed you, uh?”

Jem didn’t move, not even to scratch Church’s head like he used to. The grey cat became saddened, and just laid at his feet, stomach up, inviting him in. He still didn’t move. Why did you want to see me so urgently?

She looked down at her hands. “I wanted to ask you for a favour.” She rubbed her arms for the air outside was beginning to become extremely cold. “I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask of course, if you could, maybe, if you want, and it’s not too much to bother…”

Tessa. He interrupted. It’s okay, just ask.

“Would you try to find my father for me?” She asked, a pink tinge invading her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was for embarrassment or coldness.

Your father? Didn’t he pass away when you were three?

“Not that one. My biological father. My demon father.” She came closer to him. “Please, Jem. You have more resources than me, and I don’t want them to know.” She pointed a thumb at the Institute door. “They’ve already been through enough because of me.”

Tessa…

“Please. You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

There was no reaction in his face, but his brown eyes were screaming with emotion. I will do it. You can trust me.

She let out a puff of air that came out in a small white cloud. “Thank you.”

You should go inside. It’s cold, and you’re not wearing a coat.

She frowned. “Yes, I should go. They’re probably starting to wonder where I am.” She took Church into her arms. He complained and grumbled, but didn’t hurt her or try to leave her grip. “Goodbye then. I’ll see you in a year.” She started going up the stairs. “Or, you know, when Will sets his plan into motion.” She chuckled.

What plan?

She turned. “Well, Will has started to design a plan to get you to come to the Institute often. He drew it on the wall.” She started laughing. “Technically, it’s more like a schedule.” She gave a pose pretending to be Will and even faked the accent. “Alright, listen up. So on Monday, I’ll fake a broken arm. On Wednesday, Cecily, you will fake food poisoning. And Gabriel, on Friday you’ll have a broken leg.”

You mean fake a broken leg?

“By the way he was saying it, I wouldn’t be surprised if we get to Friday and Gabriel magically has a broken leg.” She laughed. When her laughter died down, she shrugged. “He’s doing it so he can have a reason to call on you constantly.”

It’s not going to work. The Silent Brothers won’t just let it happen.

She gave him a look. “It’s Will. If he wants to see you, he’s going to see you.” He didn’t laugh, but there was amusement in his eyes. “I have to go. Goodbye.”

Goodbye. And Tessa? She didn’t turn. Happy birthday. She smiled and went inside.

As soon as they entered, Church put out his claws and punctured her arm. “Ow!” She dropped him. “Wretched cat.” She sighed. “He couldn’t have saved a fish…” She heard a noise coming her way. Will turned the corner, a wicked smile on his face, and a huge bowl full of water. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“Really long story.” He arched his eyebrows.

She crossed her arms. “Shorten it.”

He looked down at the large bowl. Then he looked up at Tessa again and shrugged. “Gabriel betted me.”

She nodded. “That’s all the information I need.” She moved in front of him to get to the ballroom where they were having the birthday celebrations.

“What were you doing outside?” She froze. She turned to him.

“Just watching the snow.” She said nonchalantly.

“Outside? By yourself? With no coat?” He chuckled. She didn’t answer. Something in her face must have made him realise what happened. He looked at the closed door and sighed. “He didn’t want to come inside?”

She let out a harsh breath. “You know he can’t.” She could see the beginning of tears in his eyes, so she jumped to distract him. “So what did Gabriel betted you on?”

Will looked at her and gave her a sad smile. “He betted me that I can’t take out ten apples from this bowl of water with just my mouth in less than five minutes.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “Five minutes? No way.” She shook her head.

“Want to bet?” He smirked.

“Isn’t that the whole point of you doing this?” She giggled.

He paused. “Yes.” He gave a half-shrug. “But that bet is with Gabriel. We could have a different bet.”

She thought it over. “Alright. How about this? If you can’t take out all ten apples, with just your mouth, in less than five minutes, you will stop suggesting for us to have a bear delivering the rings at our wedding.”

He nodded. “I can accept that. And if I win…” He grinned mischievously. He leaned into her ear and whispered his terms.

She gasped. “William!”

He smiled. “You in or out?”

She raised her chin. “Let’s do it.”

His eyes widened like saucers. “Really?”

She gave him a wicked smile. “Come on, Herondale. Show me what you got.” She moved towards the ballroom.

“God, I love you!” He beamed before following her.

It ended up being a lovely night, now that the nervousness surrounding her meeting with Jem was gone. The high point of the night was watching Will trying to take out the apples and nearly drowning himself in the process. He sprayed everyone with droplets from his soaking hair, that whipped front and back every time he went in and out of the water. The boys were chanting “Go! Go!” and the girls were laughing so hard that Cecily fell out of the chair she was sitting in.

Whether Will accomplished the deed or not, can be answered by the fact that the ring bearer was not a bear, but Sophie.

Tessa was very grateful for the people around her, for providing her with the best birthday she’d ever had, and for being the family she’d always wanted.

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

I’ve spent a couple of days in New Hampshire this past week and keep on realizing I’ve already been places. I pulled into a brewery at the end of a dark, windy road (is everything out of a Robert Frost poem up here?) and recognized the refurbished barn from another candidate’s tour of the place. I drove up to my hotel and remembered that I’d eaten in its restaurant four years ago. The snow is the same as in 2016, too; big flakes that catch in your eye and make you wish you’d thought to bring waterproof mascara.

A lot of the voter talk is the same as four years ago, too. Namely all the cynicism and worry — What’s the matter with America? and What’s the matter with the media? kind of stuff. The only thing that’s different this year is that it’s coming from Democrats.

When you see candidates campaigning or voters listening to a stump speech, you don’t see a lot of unbridled merriment or excitement. Instead it’s a business-like frenzy to, as Democrats see it, pull the country back from the brink.

“It’s horrible to say but there’s more dumb people than I realized, or gullible people that don’t listen,” Catherine Michel, 69, told me. We were standing flush to a wall in a VFW hall in Somersworth, watching a Joe Biden event break up. The former vice president had arrived in the gray morning light in his aviator sunglasses, lenses that have been glued to Biden’s face quite a bit these days as he looks to project the cool that seems to be rapidly leaving him with every passing poll.

Michel was there with her husband, David, and they were anxious to see Biden before they made their choice. They couldn’t bear to see President Donald Trump on TV anymore. “He reminds me of Mussolini giving a speech, how he juts his jaw out and cocks his face,” David said. The Michels wanted to know what candidate could puncture that air of abrasive confidence in the president. “Trump is that dishonest bully and dishonest bullies often win,” Catherine said. “It’s really scary. So while I might support Bernie Sanders as the guy to stand up against a bully with lots of energy and just die punching him, is that the way to go? Or pick someone in the middle?”

Jim and Mary from Dover, 78 and 74, stood outside waiting to see Biden board his bus. Both said they would vote for the former vice president, but they’d entertained other options — Mary had been impressed with Amy Klobuchar’s performance during the Brett Kavanaugh Supreme Court nomination hearings. But Jim, a former registered Republican, said the senator from Minnesota didn’t stand a chance in the 2020 fray. “In normal times, she might have a chance, right? But this is a war. This is not a nice political process. This is a war and the poor Democrats think they’re going to have a political process and a campaign, and Trump is just gonna fight dirtier than anybody can fight,” he said. He brought up a friend who likes Rush Limbaugh — Jim is not a fan — and I asked if he thought the country’s political climate was in part the fault of the media. “No, it’s a citizen problem,” he said. “If you watch a cable program with these terrible slams, then you have to make a point of watching the other slams. Then you blend the two and hopefully you read a newspaper somewhere.”

Mary considered his point. “So what you’re saying is people should work harder at making their decisions rather than depending on the media to spoon feed it to them?”

A few hours later, voters in North Hampton nursed beers as they waited for actress Ashley Judd, an Elizabeth Warren surrogate, to arrive. But those at one table I approached hadn’t realized they’d walked into a political event. John and Deanna of Hollis, 67 and 58, were friendly, but John told me he’d given me a fake last name — media distrust is a constant theme on the trail. Far from seeking out the political, the couple told me their Republican friends don’t even know they’re Democrats. They only talk politics to each other these days, so as not to rock the boat. “All it would take was one conversation to blow that all up,” John said. He said it’s uncomfortable for them because their friends “talk like everyone feels the same way” about Trump and politics. Lately, John has found that people make assumptions about what you’re OK with. He’d been on a work trip in Texas and, “I sat in a car with a group of people that were customers and I heard them make racial comments and a few years back they wouldn’t have.”

When Judd got up to speak, it was a brief approximation of a politician’s speech — she talked about her humble roots and her connection to Warren and called Trump’s State of the Union “a moral injury.” You get used to hearing anyone with a microphone at events like these say the same sorts of things. But then Judd said something else.

“Earlier today we had a very extraordinarily moving panel with the incredible people in New Hampshire who work at stopping intimate partner violence and stalking,” she said. “It’s a sad thing to say but American men kill American women at a rate of three to four a day and that event was open to the press and none of the media chose to come.”

I’d seen the email for the event. I think I thought the drive was too far, simple as that. If I’m really being honest, I didn’t think about it all that much. Probably because American men do kill American women so often and probably because men have been killing the women they know and love since the dawn of time. Sad, but wholly typical. But it was lacerating to hear the statistic in that cozy New Hampshire bar; you are alive and they are not.

What’s so often lost in the primary rush — the horserace ups and downs — is the primary reason for government: a need to regulate ourselves, to instill order and some semblance of justice in society. But justice is often as wide as the chancellor’s foot — which is to say, wholly unjust. Still, the sense that society has to wrangle some order is agreed upon. What elections are about is what sort of order to instill — economic, diplomatic, militaristic.

Sometimes the little things like keeping people alive gets lost in the shuffle. So too do our individual sensibilities — everything becomes so zoomed out that you can only see a mass of people moving one way or the other, not the component parts. It’s easier to tell that story on television or in 1,200 words.

Catherine Michel’s father was a Trump supporter. He passed away, but when she spoke about him, it was in the present tense, since parents are always on your shoulder, wherever you are. She was explaining to me, I think, that he wasn’t defined by the last presidential candidate he supported. “He raised five girls and a boy. He’s very democratic and loving and liberal and education for the minorities and charity and global warming, of course,” she said. “But then when he listens — the media. …” She sort of paused, looking for the words. “The media has to be really careful.”

[emospritelet]

Prompt for a later chapter in Sparks: Does Ember smell/sense pregnancy and how do baby dragons respond to another pregnancy? Especially if Papa is being more obtuse than normal and Mama is just figuring out what is happening to her?

Sorry it took me so long to pick this up again, but better late than never.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

AO3 link

By Midwinter, the Dark Castle was warm and surprisingly snug, insulated by magic to keep out the bitter mountain winds and the sharp bite of frost.  Belle hummed as she decorated the Great Hall with holly and ivy, feathery crowns of mistletoe hung from doorways and chandeliers.  Rumple had even brought a tree inside again, and it stood near one of the large windows that looked out over the snow-covered grounds, awaiting the boxes of trinkets that would decorate its branches.  A few of the ornaments appeared to have gone missing, and Belle suspected that Ember had taken them, attracted by glittering gold and coloured glass beads.

Rumple himself was out, away on a deal far to the east, and while Belle enjoyed accompanying him on his travels, he had insisted she stay behind this time.  She hadn’t minded too much; it was likely he wanted to buy presents, and she was more than happy to be surprised on the day of the festival with what he would give her.

Belle tucked the last of the holly sprigs onto the mantelpiece, and sighed, knuckling the small of her back where a twinge caught.  She had been on her feet all day, and they ached, but she had insisted on decorating the Hall by hand rather than with magic.  It was an enjoyable task, but she had been up since dawn baking cookies and collecting the greenery. It was now almost suppertime, and she was desperately tired.  She had not seen Ember since lunchtime, the castle suspiciously quiet, and she was dreading what she might find when she finally tracked down the little dragon.  Ember had recently started catching and eating small rodents that found their way into the castle, and Belle had stepped in the eviscerated remains of more than one victim, much to her despair.  Rumple had said that she would soon learn to eat the things whole, but in the meantime it was a case of watching where one stepped.  Being the adoptive parent of a dragon wasn’t the easiest job in the world, especially when one’s young charge had a tendency to set things on fire when she sneezed.  

Ember was now around nine months old, too large to ride on Rumple’s shoulders (not that it stopped her trying to clamber up there when something had spooked her) and should be learning to fly soon.  Rumple had been coaxing her to spend a little more time in the East Wing, where he had cleared out one of the towers for her.  He was hoping that if she were to see the outside world from high up, she would start trying to flap her wings, but so far Ember had flatly refused to go any higher than the door outside their bedroom.

Turning on her toes, Belle called to the little dragon, but there was no response.  Frowning, she walked out of the Hall and down to the kitchens, wincing a little on her sore feet.  Ember was not curled by the stove, another favourite place of hers, and so Belle sighed and made her way wearily up the stairs, heading for the library.  It was empty too, and Belle sank onto one of the couches with a sigh of relief.  She called again, and heard a faint shriek from somewhere in the castle, but Ember did not appear, and Belle frowned, wondering what she was up to.

Since Rumple had left the castle, she had been acting strangely, sniffing suspiciously at Belle’s outstretched hand, then scampering away with a rattle of claws and swishing of her tail.  Belle had initially assumed it was the changes that had been introduced, bringing the greenery into the house and installing the tree in the Hall, but when she thought about it, Ember had been skittish for a week or two, wanting to snuggle with Rumple at his spinning wheel rather than curl up at Belle’s feet as she read.  When she did approach Belle, she would croon a little, blinking her amber eyes and flattening her body against the floor as though she wanted to make herself smaller.  It was almost as though she thought that Belle was angry at her, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Belle tapped her foot, teeth tugging at her lower lip as she pondered Ember’s strange behaviour.  She called again, more sharply, and there was another answering shriek.  It was a little louder, and Belle whistled, hearing the tapping of claws against stone tiles, changing to a rattle as Ember clambered up the wooden stairs to the library.  A red-scaled snout, gleaming with gold tints, poked around the corner.

“There you are!” said Belle gently.  “Come here, sweetheart!”

The snout moved, revealing large golden eyes and ears laid flat against her head.  Belle had seen that look before, and it usually meant that Ember had done something she knew she shouldn’t.

“Please tell me you didn’t eat all the cookies I made.”

A huff and a ring of bluish smoke indicated the negative.

“Good.  Then why are you cowering?  Come here.”

Ember slunk into the room, belly low to the ground, approaching Belle by an indirect, circular route that ended with her just out of reach.  Belle shook her head.

“Don’t you want to be petted?” she asked.  “What’s wrong?”

Ember shuffled forwards a little further, gently nuzzling Belle’s hand and then flattening herself against the floor, as though she was afraid she had overstepped her welcome.  It was very strange.

Pushing to her feet, Belle walked over to the shelf that housed their small but expanding collection of books on the care of dragons.  Selecting one that focused on behaviour, she slumped onto the couch again and opened it up. There had to be answers there somewhere.

x

“Nose in a book as usual, I see.”

Rumple’s voice made Belle start, and she looked up with a smile.  He was grinning at her, snow speckling his hair and the shoulders of his coat, the candlelight picking out the golden flecks on his skin as he tossed a leather sack onto one of the chairs.  A grating squeal made them both jump, and Ember tackled him in a blur of red and gold, tail swishing excitedly as she knocked him on his back.  Rumple let out a grunt of surprise, head thumping against the floor, and Belle giggled as Ember nuzzled him over and over, crooning as she rubbed her head under his chin.

“Someone missed me, it seems,” he remarked, scratching her neck and making her back foot twitch rapidly, eyes closed in pleasure.

“She’s been acting oddly,” said Belle.  “I’m glad you’re back, I wasn’t sure what to make of what I’ve been reading.”

Rumple lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he read the book title.

“Dragons: a Behavioural Study,” he said.  “What does it say?  Is she ill?”

“I don’t think so,” said Belle slowly, glancing down at the book again.  “She’s all over you, same as ever, but she’s been acting strangely towards me. Staying out of my way, crawling on her belly whenever I call her to me… It’s almost as though she thinks I’m angry with her, as though she’s trying to show deference, but she’s never been like that before.”

“Hence the book.”  He gave Ember a final scratch, pushing her off him gently and getting to his feet.  “What does it say?”

He sat beside her on the couch, and Belle handed him the book.  Ember crawled slowly around to Rumple’s end of the couch, where she settled against his legs, head on one knee.  Rumple scratched her ears absently as his eyes scanned the page.  He frowned, and read it again.

“‘Adult dragons prefer solitude and mark out their own territories, which they will defend aggressively’,” he read.  “‘Males have little involvement in the lives of their young past conception, and will be chased out of the territory of any female with a clutch of eggs or a growing brood.  Female dragons are devoted to their young, and are excellent mothers, but once the young dragons are grown sufficiently to enable them to care for themselves, it has been observed that the mother will often chase them away from her nest, so that she can prepare to breed again.  Young dragons will try to appease their mother by submissive behaviours in order to delay the process’.”

He looked puzzled.

“Does she think we’re going to throw her out, is that it?”

“Well, she’s certainly been exhibiting the behaviours mentioned,” said Belle.  “I don’t understand.  Does she think we’re going to find another baby?  It was spring when we got her, and she certainly isn’t full-grown.”

Rumple snapped the book shut, staring at her.  His breathing seemed to have quickened a little, his eyes as wide and golden as Ember’s own.

“Not a dragon, perhaps,” he said, almost to himself.  “Sweetheart, how do you feel in yourself?”

“A little tired,” admitted Belle.  “Exhausted, actually.  I’m sure it’s just the Midwinter preparations.”

“And - and is there anything else you’ve noticed?” he pressed.  “Anything at all?”

“I - oh!”  She put a hand to her mouth.  “The new moon came and went, and I didn’t bleed.  In all the excitement I’d forgotten!”

Rumple’s eyes had widened further, his breathing shallow.  The tip of his tongue wet his lips nervously, and he patted Ember’s head, getting to his feet and striding from the room.  Belle heard his feet thundering on the stairs as he went up to his workroom.  There was a crashing of glass and loud swearing, and then rapid footsteps descending once more, and he burst into the library, breathing heavily and waving a tiny vial of a potion as clear as water, if far thicker.

“Here!” he said breathlessly.

“Why didn’t you just poof yourself up there and back down, if it was so urgent?” she asked, and he paused.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking stumped, and shoved the potion at her.  “Spit in this.”

“Ew, Rumple…”

“Please!” he said desperately.  “It’s the fastest way to tell if you’re - if we’re—”

He snapped his mouth shut, as though to say the word would curse the result. Belle stood up, reaching out to squeeze his arm with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  Inwardly her heart was thumping just as fast as his, but she took the vial from his hands, tugging out the cork stopper and putting it to her lips as she worked some saliva into her mouth.  She spat as daintily as she could, and Rumple took the vial from her, re-corking it and shaking it vigorously.  He held it up to the light, and the clear fluid inside turned a vibrant, sparkling purple.  His lower lip trembled as his eyes met hers.

“A child,” he whispered.  “A child born of true love.”

Belle felt her breath catch in her throat, tears stinging her eyes.

“Really?” she breathed.  “We’re - we’re going to have a baby?”

He tucked the vial into the pocket of his coat, opening his arms so that she could hurl herself into them with a sob of joy.  He held her close, kissing her hair, her forehead, her damp cheeks.

“Thank you, Belle,” he said softly.  “Thank you, my love.”

“I think you had something to do with it too,” she pointed out, and felt a low chuckle rumble through him.

She pulled back a little, looking up at him, and he kissed her gently before pressing his brow to hers affectionately.  Their heads turned as one towards Ember, who was curled by the end of the couch, watching them with a downcast expression.

“She must have sensed it,” said Belle.  “She must think I’m going to chase her away to make room for the new little one.  She must think I’m going to chase you away, too, which is why she’s been so eager to be near you all the time.  Poor thing!”

“Well, let’s reassure her.”

Rumple let his arms slip from around her, and they both approached Ember slowly, stopping when she began to shuffle backwards.

“Ember darling, no one’s going to chase you away,” said Belle gently, squatting on her heels.  “I love you and I love Papa.  Very, very much.  We’re a family, and we’re going to stay that way.  And when the new baby arrives, you can help look after it.”

Ember’s ears pricked up.

“You’ll have a very special job as big sister,” added Rumple seriously.  “When the baby gets big enough to walk around on its own, you can protect it from anyone that might try to harm it.”

Ember pushed up off her belly, raising her head, and edged closer.

“If anyone really threatens our baby, you may have to chase them off,” he added, making her eyes brighten further.  “Or set them on fire, I don’t care which.”

“Rumple!”

“Don’t tell me you won’t be every bit as protective of our child,” he said, and Belle smiled, letting a hand drop to her still-flat belly.

“No immolation unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she said firmly, and Rumple tutted, sharing a look with Ember.

“Mama never lets us have any fun.”

[two-wheeled-therapy]

Spring is coming!  Spring is Coming!!!!!!!!!

It’s not here yet, but it is coming.  That means I will have actual current rides popping in here once again.  I had been looking forward to last weekend’s ride for about a month.  It was something new, something different . . . So when I went to my bike shed on Friday night as snow was falling, I wasn't deterred.  I was excited for Saturday morning, and I only had four miles to ride in the snow so my bike would be outside my front door and ready to go at o-dark-thirty on Saturday.  Once I got her home, I put the cover on, went inside and made sure all my cold weather gear was ready to go.  Saturday’s Temps weren’t supposed to get much above freezing, but I had a mission to run . . . The Rock ‘n Roll Marathon in DC.

After donning my Under Armor Heat Gear, Duluth Trading Company lined Fire House Work Pants, my Gerbing heated liner and Gloves along with the rest of my gear, I fired the bike up in the 28 degree morning air a few ticks after 4:30 AM to head to Arlington to meet the Moto Crew for breakfast.  .We met at Bob and Edith’s Diner, a long time breakfast staple in Arlington.  The four of us enjoyed a good hot breakfast, coffee and I got the run down on what was expected.

Brian (See my Georgia Run from Last Fall) had contacted me about a month ago asking if I was interested in joining the crew.  The responsibilities were to pair up with one of the Marathon’s photographers and ride them around the course so they can get their pictures and video of the race.  Sounded simple enough.  

After breakfast, we headed into DC, got past the Police roadblocks and met up with our marathon contact.  We got our All Access passes and photographer assignments.  I was paired up with Fiona.   After the introductions were made we got ready for the start of the race.

Before getting on the bike, I introduced Fiona to Timmy and told her to let me know if he gets fresh with her.  This obviously was not Fiona's first rodeo.  She took riding on the back of my bike with Timmy in stride and wrote it off as just one of the many characters of a Marathon.

I have to admit it; this was my first rodeo.  Before this, I had visions of zipping alongside the runners with my photographer on board, with the runners but separated from them (by what I don't know).  As soon as we started down Constitution Avenue and Fiona told me to head up the left side of the road, I thought, “But there are runners all the way to the left curb!”  I nodded and followed her instructions and was quickly immersed in the herd of runners.  

As I chugged along at their speed, runners surrounding the bike, I quietly thanked my Blue Knights Safety Directors for their slow roll drills as I rode the clutch in the friction zone and fought to the keep the bike rolling and upright while not hitting any of the runners who were literally less than a foot off each side of the bike.  Fiona was on the back snapping pictures, shooting video and cheering the runners on as my eyes darted back and forth rapidly identifying paths through the maze of runners as she directed me to go through them to get on their right side.  

Once on their right side, we had open space and she told me to run up ahead of the pack we were with.  We headed up and turned towards Memorial Bridge and ran into another curb to curb pack before the Lincoln Memorial.  Friction zone, back brake (Thank God I just replaced them 2 weeks ago), stay off the front brake, keep the bike rolling, don’t hit anyone, find a path . . .  Some runners heard us coming and gave us space.  Others were in their zone or had their tunes up to block external noise as they ran and didn't hear us as I cracked the throttle to try to let them know we were coming.  I kept looking at the near empty sidewalk to our right, but the 8 inch curb kept me away from it, until I saw the curb give way to an access ramp.  I dove the bike onto the ramp and started our way along the sidewalk, which had much fewer runners on it. 

Once on the bridge, Fiona told me to stop.  She got off the bike and disappeared like a Ninja, cameras in hand.  You’d think she would be easy to find: wearing a reflective safety vest, motorcycle helmet, and carrying her cameras, but every time we stopped on the course she would vanish in the crowd to get her shots and magically reappear when she was ready to move to the next spot.

We repeated the process of blazing paths through runners as we wiggled through the course.  I began to use my horn a little, and that became a lot as the day went on.  The further they ran, the more spread out they became, but they also got deeper and deeper into their zones.  Often times despite my horn, cracking the throttle, the blaring tunes Fiona asked me to play on my sound system, and my yelling “ON YOUR RIGHT!”, runners were still startled as a 1,000 pound motorcycle with a ride and passenger whisked past them, sometimes a foot or so away.  I can’t say I blame them for being startled, I probably would have had to change my shorts, but then again I’m done running after 5 miles.

I was amazed at the sights and sounds of this event.  From the runners who dressed up or had their own gimmick, like the guy in the Washington Capital’s jersey who juggled Hockey stick ends throughout the entire course, to the banana man, to people dressed as super heroes, Forest Gump, or whoever the people were awesome!  The sights along the course, Bands set up playing music, impromptu bars set up in people’s yards offering free beer and alcohol to runners (Maybe I should consider running further than 5 miles after all!), the signs held up to encourage runners (My Favorite: “You’re Running Better than Our Government!”), the drum corps, the blue mile honoring our fallen with portraits and flags, and the overall sense of community joining the thousands of spectators to the 17,000 runners all made th is something I definitely want to experience again.  

Like any good rollercoaster, as I was riding I was both exhilarated and asking myself why the hell I ever decided to do this.  But also like any good roller coaster, as I saw the finish line approaching I was disappointed that the experience was soon to be over.  At the finish line, Fiona dismounted and gathered her gear from my trunk.  She and Timmy said their good byes, before she did her Ninja act and vanished into the crowds.  It was over . . .

Brian tells me that he and his crew do 8-12 events like this a year . . . I told him that I am definitely in for another one.  While not a long winding motorcycle ride, it was an experience like no other.  I had my Virb running a lot on the front of the bike and am stitching together a video so you can see the race from a truly unique perspective . . .  Hopefully I will have that done in the next week or so . ..  Stay tuned!

 I have to say that weaving through the mass of runners took me back to riding the Iron Mountain Road with the Buffalo herd outside of Custer State Park in South Dakota.  The difference here is the buffalo knew we were there, weren't wearing earbuds and jamming to tunes, and in many ways were more predictable than the runners.  Both experiences, while nerve racking, were exhilarating and are something I want to do again.  Let’s Ride!

[etastra-moved]

i want the k / hosung & iseul onCE MORE

@mircges || kiss the sky || iseul → hosung !!

12. chest kiss

     it’s absolutely freezing outside, tips of ears a vibrant shade of pink and tip of nose rivaling a certain reindeer’s, and hosung is truly suffering. he rarely goes out as is but when the temperatures drop rapidly and snow blankets the city, he rarely steps foot outside of the thick comforter atop bed ( not even to work, dragging the material with him and sitting at his computer, nothing but a pile of blankets and a tuft of bleached hair visible ). he adores the mutant, though, and it’s been so long since he’s celebrated the holidays properly, celebrated with someone who cares for him as much and as fiercely as he does them. but that does not mean the hacker is particularly pleased, not when the thick coat he’s wearing and the beanie pulled low over his forehead is doing little to combat the sharp chill of winter.

     the sparkling of lights, twinkling against the fresh blanket of snow like a million shattered crystals, dazzles him for five minutes - hosung is lost in childish glee, in wide-eyed awe, as if he is once again 5 years old and staring up at the giant christmas tree his father bought to appease nasally whines, rather than twenty two years old and dragged out from the warmth of his apartment to the thick snow. he’s quiet, lost in contemplation, in thoughts that are not jaded with black holes or with voids and their shadowed maws but are colorful, pleasant, simplistic in nature. he finds that despite the shivers wracking his thin shoulders and the sniffles that will certainly plague him come morning, there’s a warmth that spreads from heart outwards, encapsulating him in comfort that he knows only with the taller.

     for five minutes he’s silent, standing with iseul and losing himself in the twinkling lights, flickering in patterns and alight in a multitude of bright colors, before a particularly sharp burst of wind sends ice trickling down his spine, shoulders seizing and warm moment bursting like a bubble. all at once the harshness of winter slams into hosung and he’s shivering, wrapping arms around himself and sparing a side-long glance at the other, who looks unbothered by the winter chill. he shuffles to stand before the other, back to the entrancing arrangement of lights, and, for a moment, he toys with the idea of waving a hand in front of the other’s face, or snapping fingers to break his reverie but he does neither.

     instead, hosung falls forward against iseul’s chest, forehead knocking into sternum perhaps a touch too hard, nose brushing the thick material of iseul’s coat and inhaling the subtle scent he’s come to associate with the taller, gloved hands lifting to slide them into the mutant’s pockets, interlocking their fingers in the process. he feels exposed, curled so close to the other, but the comfort of night and the distraction of the decorations is enough to appease the embarrassment that flares up within the shorter ; he nuzzles closer, squeezes iseul’s hands tighter, and allows that fondness from earlier to slowly unfurl, until tips of ears are colored red for a different reason.

     he lifts his head enough to stare up at the taller, to press a kiss right over the steady thud of his heartbeat, hosung’s eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself this blatant show of affection in such a public space ; he’s overwhelmed with such a simple display that he forces eyes open, to seek out the other’s dark gaze hidden away behind glasses. “for a snake, you’re pretty warm,” comes the teasing comment, barely even with the way hosung’s teeth are chattering, with the way he’s speaking into iseul’s chest, but he knows the taller has heard him ( iseul always seems to, after all, even when hosung’s silent ).