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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

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more thoughts about the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor get brought back to tirion after the war of wrath to be prettied-up trinkets on finarfin’s shelf, with painted-over scars and muffled screams. it is dark, it’s full of all kinds of emotional and caretaker abuse, and the brothers weren’t exactly in a good state of mind before any of this happened. @sunflowersupremes wrote the initial au that wasn’t even meant as horror, @outofangband - this au is as much theirs as mine, several of the concepts here were originally theirs, and a lot of this originally came out in dms with them. part 1 is here. this part contains gaslighting, loss of autonomy right at the end, more suicide mentions (thanks mae) and just general abuse from people who care more about their own comfort than the people they’re supposed to be caring for. it’s worse than the first part, honestly

most of the stuff the fëanorians had on them when they surrendered got taken away pretty fast. which is honestly understandable; some of it was cursed, a lot of it was weaponry, all of it stank to the high vault of the stars

but they both managed to hold onto some personal effects, or get them back before they went in the incinerator. a broken locket, a torn-up book, nothing fancy, nothing large, but things that still mean a lot to them

the valinoreans aren’t entirely comfortable with this. they find a lot of the brothers’ comfort items mildly disturbing, stained with darkness and (occasionally literal) blood as they are. maedhros had this dessicated finger he refuses to explain anything about that got disposed of very quickly

maglor has a few strands of brightly coloured thread, spun around each other somewhat inexpertly. he tends to pull it out when he’s feeling depressed, working it between his fingers until he feels like he can face the world again

one day, one of his minders who gets along better with him asks where he got it. from the twins, maglor admits. it’s part of some embroidery elrond abandoned when they left -

and it’s snatched out of his hands. his minder looks down at him compassionately. ‘i know you miss them, but you caused those boys a lot of pain, you know? you shouldn’t romanticise your relationship with them’

which - maglor’s relationship with the twins was complicated, and while it wasn’t nearly as hellish as elwing fears, it wasn’t entirely healthy. maglor was dependent emotionally on the kids a lot more than any adult should be to children, and vice versa

because the twins were the last people he had left. when maedhros executed celegorm’s servants with no warning at all, this rift began to grow between the sons of fëanor and their followers. they’d always been terrifying, but they’d also been comradely and inspiring, the white-hot stars around which their people orbited. but when they turned their fangs on their own host, all that started to fall away, leaving only the fear behind

it got worse after sirion. by the time vingilot rose in the sky, maglor’s only real remaining relationships were with maedhros, who he hated as much as he loved, and the twins. watching over them, talking to them, not hurting them - it kept him grounded in reality, kept him sane

he knows, he knows, he knows, they’re better off without him. but his time with them is the only happiness in his memories that still feels real

but the valinoreans can’t accept that. the exile was an awful time with nothing in it worth keeping, and the sooner he can recognise that the faster he’ll be back to his old self

besides. their caretakers don’t like being reminded of their more... unpleasant deeds

(elwing sidebar: elwing and eärendil are having an easier time, because the teleri have experience dealing with trauma and are also just more accepting of the right to have your own take on your own experiences. still, though, elwing occasionally hears that a proper telerin mother would have stayed with her children, even if she had to give up the treasure her people died for to the monsters of her childhood nightmares)

(elwing was a young adult in a horrendous situation with no obvious way out, elwing is dealing with her own damage as best she can, elwing is valid, we stan elwing. she’s also one of the few direct-ish sources the noldor have for beleriand and what the fëanorians did there, and her (perfectly reasonable!) perspective colours a lot of their treatment)

in general the valinorean noldor are quite sure they know what beleriand was like and how it felt to be there, and aren’t particularly interested in being proven wrong

it was miserable, it was harrowing, it was nothing anyone should want to think about. it was a long nightmare maedhros and maglor are so fortunate to have finally woken up from

and you can kind of see why they think like that? the ones who have seen the hither shores saw them when ash rained from a void-black sky and almost everything was dead, and the survivors told stories of a long hopeless defeat and cruelties beyond imagining

but that deep black image blots out the genuine joy they felt in those five hundred years, the chance to prove their own greatness, the knowledge they were doing something good, nights when music echoed across the gap, warm hands in a cold fortress. there were things in beleriand worth remembering, aspects of the people they became there legitimately worth keeping

and even if there wasn’t - five hundred years. the scars on their bodies make it plain to see, every little piece of who they are was shaped by beleriand, for worse and for better. they just can’t leave it behind

their valinorean caretakers find this horrifying

maedhros likes to exercise. it keeps him calm, gives him something to do. it’s not something nelyafinwë was super into - he was more the peripatetic type - but it’s a feasible hobby for a noldorin prince to have, so he’s allowed to do it

sometimes, though, he’ll unconsciously shift into the old combat forms, precisely timed drills ingrained into his bodies. the first few times he does this, his minders are bemused more than anything, but then one day he happens to have a stick in hand to use as a mock-sword

then every time he starts to slip away into that meditative trance, hands reach out to stop him and hold him in place. ‘there’s no need to fight here, maitimo,’ an elf he knew before the unchaining tells him ever so gently. ‘you’re safe now’

... they say that, but maedhros’ nightmares keep getting worse

it’s like that with everything that makes the valinoreans uncomfortable. whenever they try to speak of their time in beleriand, no matter what they say, they’re told that oh, they know it was hard, but it’s all over now and they don’t have to dwell on it

but even after they’ve spent years in paradise, maedhros and maglor still won’t let go and allow themselves to heal

they just can’t come to terms with the truth of their ordeal

the narrative the valinoreans have constructed erases all of the bright spots, but it also bleaches out the true darkness

certainly they did horrible things, but did they really have a choice? in such a harsh world, they always had to be on guard, lest they themselves be killed. these poor boys never meant to harm anyone, but their father’s cruel madness and the painful chains of their oath and the vileness of beleriand forced them into atrocities they never wanted to commit

(surely the monsters the sindar spoke of wouldn’t cry. they wouldn’t lose themselves in waking nightmares or curl up shivering in well-hidden closets, they wouldn’t jump away from a casual touch or watch every new person like they might be a threat. they wouldn’t convince themselves the children they stole were happy, or talk to the shade of a dead kinsman they abandoned. surely they wouldn’t. surely)

(because if they are, and they’ve let a couple of orcs loose into the royal palace...)

(maglor and maedhros’ movements are pretty restricted. this is mostly for their own protection, but it’s partially - well, just in case. just in case)

this rankles at maedhros, though he tries not to show it. terrible they might have been, but his choices were his own

he was a warlord, he was a king. he expected to be hated for the things he had done. he didn’t expect to be pitied. he didn’t expect to be dismissed

sometimes, when he’s surrounded by people earnestly telling him that he’s not a bad person, he never was, it was all pressure from his father and the oath, he wants to scream that he chose to attack sirion because he was so, so tired of diplomatically dancing around problems he knew he could solve with his blade

but he stops himself, always. he knows how much what little freedom they do have is based on them not being a threat

and he will not wash this peaceful, innocent land in blood. he’ll kill himself first

maglor has lost all such scruples

it’s not often, but when they’re behaving themselves and no one who’s likely to take offense is in town, the brothers get taken out to court events

they paint makeup over their scars (which still won’t heal, everyone is concerned by the implications of this) dress them up in finery, string them with jewels, and show off how well they’re doing

(even if maedhros rarely says anything, and they never leave each other’s side)

tonight, it’s a feast. a minor celebration, nothing too crowded, nothing too loud. there’s revels and merrymaking and all kinds of fun

and after the food has been cleared away, there’s music

would his nephew like to play something, finarfin asks. it’s hard to tell if it’s a request or a politely phrased order

maglor decides he doesn’t have the patience to be taken aside and tell how much everyone wanted to hear his music, and accepts

finarfin smiles kindly. he’s thinking about how maglor’s minders have been talking about how he’s finally stopped trying to sing depressing or horrifying songs and how his voice grows more melodious by the day

maglor is thinking about how they won’t even let him sing about his wife. he wrote no odes to her beauty or her skill in the forge, but he sang ballads about the swiftness of her spear and her laughter after a battle

none of which the valinoreans want to hear. they want to pretend that love never existed, that there could be any joy found in darkness, that she’s at all worth remembering -

he gets up to play, and launches into the most vicious, most hopeless, most painful part of the noldolantë

they try to stop him, but he’s the greatest warsinger the world has ever seen, he’s sung with blood in his lungs over the roaring of dragons, there’s little they can do to block out everything they’re trying to ignore. he wails defeat and death and grief and death and despair and death

when they finally manage to knock him out, their whole petty festival in tatters, shock on their faces, tears streaming from their eyes, all he can think is that if they understand now, even a little, it’ll have been worth it

for the first time, but not the last, he wakes up in a cell

finarfin comes to visit, and starts giving a very disappointed lecture maglor is in no mood to hear. instead he just snarls that nothing they’ve been doing is helping him at all, and he’s so sick of false sympathy and no one listening to what his actual problems are

finarfin shuts his eyes, says ‘i’m sorry to hear you feel that way’ and leaves

a few days later he wakes up with a collar around his neck

it’s demeaning, but he gets released that morning, so he rolls with it. he gets told to never do that ever again, first by his minders and then by maedhros

his minders he nods at until they leave him alone. maedhros he snarks back at that it’s not like he’s doing anything to improve their condition

only he can’t

the words don’t just freeze in his throat, they can’t even form in his mind. what’s happening, he can’t say. what did you do to me, he can’t say. he can’t even scream

as maglor is clutching at his neck (he can’t get it off he can’t get it off) and all the colour is draining out of maedhros’ face, the minder in the room smiles

‘see? this way you’ll stop making yourself and everyone around you miserable. you can still talk about happy things -’

‘they did this in angband!’ maedhros roars, a statement that provokes his first actual fight with their minders. he’s harder to pin down than maglor. bigger

but their caretakers are becoming annoyed with the brothers’ obstinate refusal to let themselves get better. they may be content to wallow in the misery of their past, but inflicting it on others is a step too far

they clearly aren’t going to move any further down the road to recovery on their own volition, so it’s become clear they need a gentle push. is it a little distasteful? yes, but such things are sometimes necessary in medicine

the bright cheerful princes they will be again will thank them for it

oh god how did this end up so long. the last one should be shorter, it’s mostly clearing up some loose ends. why did i write this

#maedhros #maglor #homecoming au #my terrible fic #finarfin #noldor #late stage feanorians #abuse //#mental health issues ///#suicide mention //#gaslighting //#eeeeeeeeesh #i am not sure what i was trying to get across actually comes across in this #i ran out of unova pokedex before i ran out of fic #(the long one from b2w2. no i'm not explaining that)#it is three am!#and i'm not trying to start anything with that section about how the noldor minimise the feanorians' deeds #other people have their headcanons and that's cool. i have mine #i don't see them as 'entirely evil' (whatever that means) but i have felt like my own imperfections mean i don't deserve help before #... can you tell this is a vent fic yet #mags gets more focus because mags is the character i project onto #i've thought about him more; i have a more solid grasp of what i think his character is #'s why i got nelyo in on this. they're the creme de la creme at bad shit happening to maedhros and i wanted someone to cover his corner #this au is awful why am i writing it

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br4v3b1rd · 7 years

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Following a Pulse

Fandom: Don’t Starve Main Character: Wilson, Maxwell

Note: A gift for @tainted-petals & @coffee-and-cogs

The ground was dry and cool, a sure sign of fall, like most new variations of this wretched hell island, Wilson decided. It always started in fall, and then turned to winter, and spring, and then summer, before the markers they’d all agreed upon as a year passed.

So this world was fresh, new. He was the first one here. The others might end up here, if the little group they’d managed to keep together for a while didn’t end up doing what he did, dying with no safety net. He’d find them again eventually. Or not. That was always a possibility.

Wilson’s eyes traced over the ring on his left as he sat up, the gold band with a line of mosaic red through it. He hadn’t seen the matching ring, or owner in ten years, and he hadn’t felt a pulse through it in five.

It’d been an experiment, he’d been trying to make a long distance communication system at first. That required magic, at least in this world, his attempts at a simple ham radio had failed miserably, despite the appearances of the divining rod. While he hadn’t gotten that to work, Wilson decided that designing something that would at least give him an idea of if his companions were alive was enough for the time. The rings were what came out of that, a pair of them.

He still hadn’t figured out that radio system, or the magical equivalent of it. But it didn’t feel that important since they all kept getting split up, especially… he looked away from the ring. It was a reminder, at least, the only thing he carried from world to world.

Maxwell had been with him, the day he’d made them. The design had been meant for a bracelet, but one red gem only made enough shards for one bracelet, and that was what was going to connect the prototypes together, one red gem. Theoretically, if it worked in the prototype, he could use multiple gems and make sure each one was in each bracelet. But that was if it even worked in the first place.

One chunk of gold, nightmare fuel, and a red gem. The same sort of things he’d use for a life amulet, and then his thought process was interrupted by Max’s voice, and he’d almost whacked the gem into the dirt off of the alter.

“Think you could hurry up? It’s been a while since the last earthquake, and I’m not exactly keen on being here for a cave-in.”

The man had been sitting on a chunk of a broken thulcite wall, the medallion in his hand, and their lantern at his feet. “Maxwell, you have a miner’s hat, if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” Wilson looked at the gem, the shards would go everywhere if he didn’t contain it.

“And leave you down here all by your lonesome? Like I’d let that happen, pal.” He could hear footsteps as he emptied out his satchel, the hammer left on the alter. “Besides, I’m interested to see what you’ll create.”

“If you’re content with being my guinea pig, then fine, see what I care.” Wilson picked up the hammer, and turned, Maxwell only a few inches away. “But no complaining! That’s all you ever do down here.” He turned back to his work, gem going into the now empty bag.

“Fine, fine…” Honestly, if he was looking at him right now, he’d probably see Max rolling his eyes.

It was rather quiet as Max took a seat closer to the alter, apparently actually invested in his work, watching him break up the red gem.

It’d taken longer then he expected, really, when he looked at the two rings, finally finished. “Hey, Max.” He turned around to see him frowning, eyebrows raised in a question. “Try this on,” he raised up one of the two rings, “I need to see if it works.”

“Are you going to try to catch me on fire?” Really, he should be insulted, but there was amusement in Maxwell’s voice and so he rolled his eyes instead of starting another petty fight, taking the extended hand offered.

“I would of just made one of your stupid gems on a stick if I wanted to do that, any catching on fire is a failure of my creation and not intended.” He slid the ring on, before turning back to the alter, sliding the other onto his left hand. “Any ‘catching on fire’ yet?”

“It’s… growing warm? Frankly, genius. A ring that barely will heat you up in the winter. Brilliance, my dear Higgsbury.” So was his own ring, and he couldn’t tell if the line of gem shards was glittering in the light, or it was illuminating itself. There was a faint pulse from it, somewhat… off. It seemed steady, then faltered, steady, then another falter.

“That’s not the purpose, Max. They’re suppose to link up, be a way to tell if someone’s alive…” Oh. It was a heartbeat. “Is yours beating?” He knew that pattern, it was the same as the heartbeat of the man sitting behind him.

“Is it a good thing or a bad thing if it is?” Wilson laughed and turned around, grabbing Max’s right hand, the one without the ring. “I’ll guess it’s a good thing?” There was bemusement as Wilson pulled the hand to his chest.

“They match, correct?” Realization dawned on Maxwell’s face, and he nodded, pulling his hand away. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see if they work as intended, but let’s get out of here for now, I can work on designing them for everyone later.”

He never did get around to that. Things got busy, the world had new changes to discover and understand, they had escape to figure out.

Wilson gave it one last look before pulling the fingers of his gloves up to cover it. He didn’t have time to dwell on the past, to dwell on Max. He had to get going…

Had his lover changed since then? Ten years was a long time, even in this hellish place where their old sense of time meant nothing. He hoped it was for the better if he had.

He tried to shake off the thoughts. Even after so long, every new variation of this world had him hoping that he’d feel an arrhythmic heartbeat through the ring. But he’d probably never catch up to him, the last time he’d felt it, he’d died searching.

It was dusk, hours later, a fresh satchel procured, and a supply of firewood for the night snuggly inside, when he noticed the warmth from his finger, pointer on the left. His ring finger.

Instead of any rational thoughts, that he’d injured it, or he was just hallucinating, Wilson put together two torches, haphazardly, and ran. It’d been so long, too long, that the mere hope of seeing Maxwell made it easier to run after chopping wood, dodging spiders that were starting to awaken. It couldn’t lead him to the other ring, but it was getting dark, and the long tuffs of grass they used for torches were rare in this variation of the world, except in one place he’d found so far.

The plains.

The sun was almost gone when he saw a lanky silhouette standing from a kneeling position.

Frankly, it was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a long long while. “Max!” At least he was loud enough to be heard from across the field, the other’s head turning. “You stupid, ridiculous, egotistical doofus!” Okay, not the nicest greeting, but that was standard. Wilson hoped there was the same sort of disbelief on Max’s face that he’d guess was on his as he jogged over to him.

Finally. After so damned long…

Well, tackling him in a hug was reserved enough.

“I…” Oh, there was exactly what he wanted to hear. Disbelief, wonderment. “Aren’t you being rather rude, Wilson?” Or not. Of course Max would immediately hide that.

“Oh, was I suppose to do this first?” A hand to the back of Max’s head, pulling the other down so he could wrap the free arm around his lower back and keep him close, just for a kiss.

More then one, really, he couldn’t help himself. For once, Wilson was the one looking smug as he pulled back to get a better look at Max’s face. “Happier now?” Maxwell actually looking starstruck was rather delightful, but a glance over the other’s shoulder certainly ruined the moment. He backed off to sling off his satchel, they needed a fire, unless they wanted to lose one another again.

He didn’t want to wait another ten years, a few moments could be spared for that.

Maxwell had enough sense to back off until the fire was started, and before anything else could be said, Wilson felt arms around him, a head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you.” It was quiet, and tired, and was there really anything else to define this. Ten years of missing one another.

“Missed you too, Max.” Maybe they’d manage to keep everything together this time. He’d cling to this bit of happiness in the world so much harder, now that he had it again.

#don't starve #dont starve #maxwil

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nicoletteduclare · 7 years

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So this world was fresh, new. He was the first one here. The others might end up, if the little group they’d managed to keep together for a while didn’t end up doing what he did, died with no safety net. He’d find them again eventually. Or not.

“Think you could hurry up? It’s been a while since the last earthquake, and I’m not exactly keen on being here for a cave-in.”

“Fine, fine…” Honestly, if he was looking at him right now, he’d probably see Max rolling his eyes.

It was rather quiet as Max took a seat closer to the alter, apparently actually invested in his work, watching him break up the red gem.

"It's... growing warm? Frankly, genius. A ring that barely will heat you up in the winter. Brilliance, my dear Higgsbury.” So was his own, really, and he couldn't tell if the line of gem shards was glittering in the light, or it was illuminating itself. There was a faint pulse from it, somewhat… off. It seemed steady, then faltered, steady, then another falter.

He never did get around to that. Things got busy, the world had new changes to discover and understand, they had escape to figure out.

Wilson gave it one last look before pulling the fingers of his gloves up to cover it. He didn’t have time to dwell on the past, to dwell on Max. He had to get going

Had his lover changed since then? Ten years was a long time, even in this hellish place where their old sense of time meant nothing. He hoped it was for the better if he had.

He tried to shake off the thoughts. Even after so long, every new variation of this world had him hoping, that he’d feel an arrhythmic heartbeat through the ring. But he’d probably never catch up to him, the last time he’d felt it, he’d died searching.

It was dusk, hours later, a fresh satchel procured, and a supply of firewood for the night snuggly inside, when he noticed the warmth from his hand.

Instead of any rational thought, Wilson put together two torches, haphazardly, and ran. It’d been so long, too long, that the mere idea of hope made it easier to run, dodging spiders. It couldn’t lead him, but it was getting dark, and the long tuffs of grass were rare, except in one place he’d found so far.

The plains.

The sun was almost gone when he saw a lanky silhouette standing from a kneeling position.

Frankly, it’d been the nicest thing he’d seen in a while. “Max!” At least he was loud enough to be heard from across the field. “You stupid, ridiculous, egotistical doofus!” Okay, not the nicest greeting, but that was standard. Wilson hoped there was the same sort of disbelief on Max’s face that he’d guess was on his as he jogged over to him.

Finally. After so damned long…

Well, tackling him in a hug was reserved enough.

“I…” Oh, there was exactly what he wanted to hear. Disbelief, wonderment. “Aren’t you being rather rude, Wilson?” Or not.

“Oh, was I suppose to do this first?” A hand to the back of Max’s head, pulling the other down so he could wrap the free arm around his lower back and keep him close, just for a kiss.

More then one, really. For once, Wilson was the one looking smug as he pulled back. “Happier now?” Maxwell actually looking starstruck was rather delightful, but a glance over the other’s shoulder certainly ruined the moment. He backed off to sling off his satchel, they needed a fire, unless they wanted to lose one another again.

He didn’t want to wait another ten years, a few moments could be spared for that.

“Missed you too, Max.” Maybe they’d manage to keep everything together this time.

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hutcherette · 7 years

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Flowers in the Window Chapter 4

Wow only me 5 months to update, sorry! Life & work stuff just took over all my time. I will try not to be so long in my next update. As always many thanks to my lovely beta and friend Heidi. She had a big job on her hands, as this chapter is rather long, so ta very much dude! :D xx Hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you for reading and for the lovely comments. Previous chapters can be found on A03

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7594528?view_full_work=true

"It'll have to do" Katniss muttered under breath after she had re-braided her hair for the fourth time that morning. She took a deep breath in, breathed out hard and studied her reflection in the small mirror above the basin in the female staff bathroom. 8:47 am. Nearly time to roll. Toying idly with the end of her braid she pulled out her go-to 'I'm fabulous' perfect nude lipstick for yet another coat. Letting out a resigned sigh she grabbed her handbag and opened the door quickly.

"Pull yourself together Everdeen" She chastised herself with a heated whisper.

Unfortunately in the heat of scolding herself she hadn't noticed Johanna racing in the door. Her black duster coat whipping behind her.

"Woah there, Nelly! Are you trying to make my hangover worse than it already is?!" Jo gestured to her head, which Katniss was guessing, was pounding.

"Morning to you too Jo" she smiled patting the side of Jo's head sympathetically.

"Wild night?!"

"Wet n wild times K, all the way" Jo drawled winking at her friend. Katniss wrinkled her nose, turned back to the mirror and started toying again with her braid.

"So things good with Thresh still?"

"That man has moves that out-sex even Gloss" Jo replied pulling out her black kajal liner from her bag with the smirk of a cat who had recently had her fair share of top quality cream.

"Wow; even Gloss the man-whore extraordinaire? Well I guess it must be love," Katniss teased.

"Please." Jo rolled her eyes & applied a heavy line of sooty black in her lower waterline.

"Why are you in here anyway, K? It's almost bell and you don't fuss or primp your hair or makeup. Ever. If I didn't know you better I'd say you were avoiding the soon to be love of your life… or at least a couple of months of good lays."

Exasperated, Katniss grabbed her handbag and started fidgeting with the zipper.

"I’m not avoiding him...I just...look...urgh we talked about this yesterday Jo, it's just all so...awkward."

"Oh come on K, it's only awkward because you're turning it into some dumb high school drama á la Delly! It's very simple. He likes you, you like him. You had some weird serendipitous meeting years ago where you hit it off with each other, so? Who cares? Get in his pants already!"

"Always boils down to one thing with you doesn't it Johanna?" Katniss snapped. Johanna glared at her from the mirror.

"Harsh, Everdeen. I'm actually trying to help you bring a bit of happiness into your life but if you're too brainless to see that then fine; stew in your own misery." She picked up her bag & turned to face Katniss.

"If you need me I'll be in the photocopier room. I just saw Mellark on his way to Trinkets room, just a heads up there to aid you in your little avoidance plan. He also asked me if I'd seen you..."

"What did you say?" Katniss asked in a half whisper staring down at the sink. She knew Jo was right, she had to give him and whatever they had or could have, a chance. The whole thing had been gnawing at her all weekend to the point where she couldn't sleep. She wanted to text him but this wasn't a simple case of boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, followed by the obligatory ‘oh so charming’ text games that usually lead to a first date or being ignored. She wanted to speak to him face to face but now the moment was here...she was terrified.

"I said no I hadn't. Besides why do you care? It's all too awkward right?!" Jo huffed back and walked out the door.

The shrill clanging bell rang out breaking Katniss from her thoughts. Oh Shit she slapped her hand to her head. Monday mornings were her half day teaching in D12's kindergarten. The worst part of her week but she had been railroaded into it by Effie who had insisted how good the experience would look on her CPD plan this year although the truth of the matter was that every other staff member had passed up the opportunity to do it and Effie knew she could talk her round by bringing out the guilt inducing 'we need you Katniss' speech. Besides it was that or lunchtime detention duties 2 days a week. At least being there would give her head a break from Peeta mania. Mind you, the prospect of having to face Peeta later on with snot stains on her clothes and paint on her shoes didn't exactly thrill her either. Feeling a little more relaxed Katniss walked down the old rickety stairwell down into the main lobby, kindergarten bound. The years had not been kind to D12's main building, built in 1936 the red sandstone three storey building looked impressive from the exterior but inside was another story. Leaking roofs, peeling paint and some furniture that hasn't been replaced since Eisenhower meant that the school was often in a dilapidated condition. Mrs Cray wanted to bulldoze the entire building and rebuild but Cressida favoured fund raising events to preserve and fix, what was at its heart, a beautiful building full of character and history.

Katniss was rifling through her bag to find the key card that opened the kindergarten entry door when those smooth molten caramel tones echoed behind her. "Hey Katniss" Oh god. Oh god. Thought I'd at least have a couple of hours before facing him. She breathed out. 1-2-3. Slowly, she turned around, her eyes locking with a motherload of electric blue.

"Hi," she squeaked a little higher pitched than she intended. She cleared her throat trying to find a way to ground herself and not make this anymore awkward than it already was.

"Hi Peeta, hey, um how are you?" Those eyes twinkled and a soft smile crept over his lips.

"Not bad, all the better for seeing you."

If she wasn't so self-conscious she'd swear that Peeta's face flushed slightly. And then… Silence. Say something, say anything!

"Th-thanks you too. Hope the White Russians were kind to you next morning. I felt a little queasy but it wore off. Johanna swears by a Virgin Bloody Mary with her secret recipe hash browns & bacon breakfast. Really does sort you out..." Her voice trailed off as she realised she was in full babbling overload and that Peeta was smiling at her with a look of bemusement.

"I'll need to try that sometime. I personally prefer Cheese buns and a black coffee. I was helping out at the family bakery all day Saturday & that combination saved my ass. Not sure if White Russians were my best idea ever." "No, no they were good." Peeta beamed at her. As she started to feel lost in his eyes again.

"Mr Mellark! Where are you dear?" Effie trilled her clacking heels echoing off the concrete floor as she waltzed into the lobby. Her face a picture of panic as two children from Peeta's class walked sullenly behind her. One covering his nose with a blood stained tissue. "Two of your children have been fighting, yes fighting, in the playground!" She shrieked from behind. Peeta looked behind him and then smiled apologetically at Katniss.

"Sorry, looks like duty calls. Listen are you busy at lunch? I brought in left over cheese buns. I'd..." He hesitated as if trying to gauge what her answer would be. "I'd really like to talk...not to sound all heavy. But I'd like to explain why I didn't tell you what I knew on Friday night."

"I'm sorry I didn't text you Peeta. I, I, sorry it was just a lot to take in."

"Please, don't be – sorry I mean... Kinda figured you'd need some time. Hell, when I saw you for the first time last week, I definitely needed some time to process it all."

That smile, the one that made her melt the first time she had seen it through that crazy green headpiece, beaming at her, was full front and centre.

"Sure... um… meet me here, 12.15? I... I like buns.... cheese ones, I mean." She closed briefly her eyes cringing at her last statement. Learn to talk Everdeen.

"Good, good" he grinned, the look of relief pertinent on his face.

"Made by my own fair hand, so they should be tasty enough."

Was he flirting or was this just bakery chit chat?! Whatever it was she was starting to feel extremely warm again.

"Ok, um, I better get to Kindergarten. See you later." She clumsily turned around and gave him a wave.

"Give 'em hell, Dorothy girl" He smirked. Lord.

"I try," she mock sighed, pushing down on the door handle & walking through. Ok it was flirting, she grinned, definite flirting.

*********

"Sweet lord... unh… these are amazing," Katniss groaned and wiped her mouth self-consciously after what was her third cheese bun. Peeta laughed offering her a napkin and carton of orange juice.

"Honestly Peeta, your talents are obviously wasted here in the teaching profession. You bake like a bad ass." She grinned taking the carton. Jesus could I stop babbling at the cheese buns for 1 second and actually focus on the fact that Peeta and I are on a semi date?! And did I just say the phrase 'bake like a bad ass?' Do I now have the oracy skills of a ten year old?! Too many ridiculous questions were swirling around her brain. She took a long drink from the carton. Calm down Katniss, she mentally soothed herself. Not noticing her embarrassment Peeta grinned back at her.

"Ah, why thank you kind lady but I think I'll leave the bad ass for my time in the kitchen and keep the genteel for the classroom."

"Shame," she smiled back meekly. Peeta had been standing waiting for her at 12.15 on the dot outside the nursery doors. To be honest, after 3 hellish hours of dealing with runny noses, (one child has actually wiped his nose on her hand), repeated readings of The Gruffalo including one session where the Gruffalo and fox toy props were thrown across the room, seeing a gorgeous guy with knockout blue eyes holding a paper bag of freshly baked bakery goods was just the tonic. They sat on a bench under the huge willow tree in the front gardens of the school. It hadn't been as awkward as Katniss had worried it would be. Peeta was good at small talk and filling in silences, and just as she remembered from that fateful Halloween night, he always knew the right thing to say. Katniss reached over to take her juice carton, Peeta caught her eye and smiled at her, his cheeks looking slightly pinker than usual. Silence. Damn I spoke too soon. He cleared his throat and crumpled the paper bag causally in his hands.

"Uh Katniss, uh about the other night I..." the assured smooth talking stance seemed to be faltering.

"Yeah?" Katniss prompted.

"Well, ok here goes, I had this all rehearsed in my head and now I've messed it up already." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I like you Katniss. I've liked you since that night at the party. After we met I couldn't stop thinking about you but I was still involved with Cashm... my girlfriend at the time. We weren’t really getting on that well when we met but we had been together since high school and I wanted to make it work. It didn't though and we split up 2 years later. I wish, I had looked for you… God I wish so many things had been different. You were seeing a guy too right?"

"Yeah I was... um Gale. We broke up last year actually." She bit her lip. Where was this going? Did he regret meeting her, was it just too messy for them to even try and start something?

"Oh, I would say I'm sorry but..." He gently placed his hand over hers.

"But?" she breathed out shakily. The warmth of his hand was sending out those jolts of electric charge again.

"Well with no disrespect to Gale, his loss might be my gain?" Katniss smiled shyly, stroking his thumb gently.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you here, just across the classroom. I wasn't sure if it was you at first. Having been a few years since that night and the fact that you weren't clad in gingham," he laughed softly. "I wanted to tell you at the Med but we were getting on so well and I guess I wanted to see if the same connection was still there, and it was... I felt it."

"I noticed you looking at me but thought maybe it was my imagination," she grinned.

"Why would you think it's your imagination?! You're beautiful. I don't think you know… the effect you have. "

Ok the fact that his head had come closer in proximity was definitely not her imagination. She feeling a little intoxicated. Those eyes and the fact that he had licked his lips were now all she could focus on.

"It's the same effect I felt at that party. It's dazzling, you're dazzling Katniss" He leaned forward, placed his hand on her cheek to cradle her face. His fingers softly grazed her temples. She could get lost in those hits of blue. She felt his breath on her lips, it was going to happen. Fuuucckkkk. She let out a soft squeak as she felt his lips graze hers. Heaven, heaven she sang in her mind. What - what what's that noise?! No, no! She groaned internally as the school bell rang with all its shrill intonations. She opened her eyes, Peeta touched her forehead with his. His fingers still stroking her face.

"Saved by the bell huh?!" He whispered huskily.

"Don't think I'd use the word 'saved' more like cursed," she rolled her eyes and lifted her hand up to stroke the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. He laughed and slowly pulled his head away but still holding her hand.

"Probably for the best really. Last thing we need is Effie hauling us into her office for unprofessional conduct."

Katniss laughed picking up her handbag and jacket.

"Hmm.... I think I would have risked it." He smiled bashfully, running a finger slowly from her temples to jaw. She shivered, oh god she was done for.

"Peeta Mellark... you live right on the edge don't you," she teased.

"Oh Miss Everdeen you have no idea," he winked cheekily. They walked up towards the school entrance in a happier much more comfortable silence. She stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Thanks for lunch Peeta, it was... lovely." She felt her blush creep back with a vengeance.

"You're welcome. My class were in the gym hall for all of lunch. Cressida organised a judo instructor as a treat for their class of the week award. So I better go, and hope none of them try out any of their moves on me."

"Good luck with that," she laughed and started walking up the stairs.

"Uh Katniss...?”

She turned around. Nervous Peeta was back in business. "Would you like to get together one night this week? Dinner, or a movie or both?"

"Sure." Damn. She had gone for casual but it came out rather high pitched again. "I...I could cook dinner if you like, at mine. I'm no cordon bleu but I can whip up a mean Lasagne," she blurted out quickly. Her place?! Did she really say that? What was he going to think?! That she was easy. Learn also when to shut up Everdeen.

"Sounds fantastic. Are you free Friday night? You cook and I'll bring more buns?!"

"Yes: yes to all of the above. Seven a good time? And please do bring your buns, the more the merrier."

Peeta gave her a bemused look. "Yeah 7, I look forward to it and Katniss... my buns are always available," he grinned and walked away towards the gym hall before Katniss could respond. She was glad that wouldn't be able to witness how flustered and warm she had suddenly become again.

She was really going on a date with Peeta Mellark... monster boy... eyes that make all the panties drop. Oh lord she was done for.

******

"Let me be clear, you... Katniss Everdeen... offered up your cooking?! To an innocent victim?!" Madge cackled down the phone line.

"What's wrong with my cooking, I don't remember you complaining when you had the flu and I looked after you for an entire weekend!" Katniss shot back. "Katniss that was mostly grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up pizzas, which you burned!" She continued to laugh.

"Uh no I did not! And that was 6 years ago! I've been practising. Anyway Jo's Lasagne recipe is fool-proof.”

Madge had phoned that night for a catch up and now it had turned into a critical appraisal of her Friday plans with Peeta.

"Ok, ok no more roasting of Katniss, pun intended. At least tell me what you're wearing?"

"I haven't thought about it, jeans maybe, black top."

"Pants on fire K, I know you too well. You're crazy about this guy, but trying to play it cool, your tried and tested defence mechanism against disappointment. Which is mental. It's Peeta friggin' Mellark! He's a gorgeous and a total sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me you guys met at the Halloween party?"

"You know why! Um, long standing boyfriend at the time, you remember him...6 foot 2, dark hair, answered to the name Gale?"

"Har har, I just meant, it would have saved you a lot of time had you guys got together years ago."

"I wasn't going to give up my relationship for a crush on a guy in a monster costume Madge!"

"Uh-huh look how well that turned out."

"I know…" Katniss replied sadly.

"I'm sorry Katniss, that was out of line. Just been a bitch of a day and Adam is driving me nuts." Madge sighed

"Please, it’s us, we always have a get out of jail free cards for crabbiness, especially if it's about men being assholes." Madge and her boyfriend, the same Adam Gloss from the infamous Halloween party, were in the middle of a messy breakup. Adam, at being the dumpee, had recently started behaving a petty and spiteful manner towards Madge resulting in weekly demands for clothes, books, or some other, often insignificant object, that he wanted back from her apartment.

"Thanks. But still I shouldn't take his shitty behaviour out on my best friend. He texted me earlier and demanded a shitty plastic shot glass that he brought me back from Bermuda. Seriously K, I'm so glad I ended it, look at the kind of guy he is. He's certainly no Peeta." She sighed wistfully at the end of the sentence. "Maybe you should date him," Katniss joked.

"Haha! Nuh-huh, I've heard he's got it baaaad for you Everdeen."

"What, please… How do you know that?"

"I have my sources, namely Johanna." Katniss could almost hear her smirking. "And when have you ever listened to Jo?!" She laughed.

"Jo's a little intense but that's half the fun right?! Anyway you still haven't told me what you're wearing? I think you should go and buy a new dress. I'm thinking a sexy black body con style with your hair loose in tousled waves... If I wasn't three hours away by plane l would be coming over and supervising this whole date, instead I'm entrusting Johanna to man the decks."

"Body con Madge? Seriously. It's a low key first date, not dress up like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Besides Glimmer wears all those sultry style clothes and it hasn't impressed Peeta one bit." Katniss bit her lip remembering how all over Peeta Glimmer was at the night out. "That's just not me."

"Ok I know, I know, I'm just so excited for you plus you have an amazing figure Katniss. You should show it off sometime."

"One step at time. Listen Madge gotta run. Call you Thursday night ok. Love you." Katniss walked over and opened the door to Jo.

"You too, say hi to Jo, bye."

After their disagreement in the bathroom Katniss had apologised and provided a peace offering in the form of Chinese food and allowing Jo to bring over a choice selection of possible date outfits.

"You're as bad as Madge!" Katniss groaned later, upon viewing the 2nd outfit in Jo's often inappropriate collection of dresses.

"Madge has got some damn good taste then!" She sniggered running her hand down an obscenely short dark red leather dress.

"No, and that's the end of it. Do you have anything here that is..." She caught Johanna's eye and her challenging expression and she inwardly flinched at possibly starting another row with her.

"That's what K?" Jo replied with slight defiance in her voice.

"Well..." Katniss chose her words carefully. "More... me?" She looked up feeling a little anxious about how Jo was going to respond. Much to Katniss's relief Jo grinned wickedly, pulling out a dress from underneath the red leather one. "Yeah, yeah I get you K," she rolled her eyes. "So I came prepared." "Whadda'ya think?" She held up a sleek looking fine knitted black ribbed sweater dress. "100% Italian wool, ya know."

"Oh my god Jo, that's beautiful. Why haven't I seen you wear this before?"

"It's a little strait laced for my taste." She winked. "My mom got it for my Christmas last year. Forgot I had it. She gets all these swish looking dresses at that boutique of hers. I guess she was trying to smarten me up."

"You don't need it, perfect as you are Mason." Katniss bumped her fist affectionately on Johanna's shoulder.

"Well duh obviously, Brainless!" She laughed tapping Katniss's hand. "Anyway it's yours if you want it?"

"I can't have this Jo, it must have cost a..."

"Two hundred and fifty eight plus tax... Yep she left the tags on, just have it Everdeen. Don't say I don't treat you!" Jo flung the dress at Katniss. "Go try it on... You're gonna look hot, Mellark will flip his little blondie lid!"

"Thanks Jo, this is perfect" Katniss examined the dress. It felt so soft between her fingers. She inwardly blushed thinking about Peeta checking her out in it. "Anytime. Now about your makeup. I'm thinking a dark red lip and killer contouring of those cheekbones." Katniss mock sighed loudly before heading to the bathroom.

"We'll see…"

"No way, if I'm giving you that dress you're getting the makeup I order." Jo called after her.

"Sure Jo, sure." Katniss laughed closing the door.

The rest of the week had gone by in a blur of shy smiles and lingering glances across classrooms and stairwells. She hadn't got the chance to speak much to Peeta due to it being his turn to supervise lunchtime detention this week. By the time Friday afternoon came Katniss was beginning to feel definite pre-date jitters creeping up on her.

"What's the worst that could happen? Blondie won't put out on the first date." Johanna grinned mischievously as she gathered up a huge pile of homework sacks to give out.

"Har-har Jo, thanks. I feel much more at ease now," Katniss deadpanned. "Always happy to help K, - AARON CRAY WHAT DID MISS EVERDEEN JUST SAY?!" She thundered across the room to deal with more Cray shenanigans.

"Hey,” that beautiful voice that she came to crave and be fearful of at the same time echoed in her ear.

"Gah," she spun round to see Peeta leaning against the door frame wearing a sinfully fitting blue shirt that just made the blue of his eyes pop out even more. "Sorry you startled me there Mr Mellark," she self-consciously pushed her hair behind her ear and felt her face begin that familiar burn again.

"Apologies Miss Everdeen."

That sexy grin should be god damned outlawed she inwardly groaned.

"Was just wondering if I could borrow your copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Promised the kids I'd read a chapter to them today."

"Sure thing," she walked over to her bookshelf behind her desk, smiling to herself. He could have sent his TA to get the book but he went instead. Yep must have definitely wanted to see her.

"Here you go, enjoy."

"Thanks and by the way," Peeta lowered his voice and looked furtively around the classroom for any eavesdroppers "We still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, yes definitely. Seven?"

"I'll see you then," he replied with a wink and turned around to leave. "Hey Mellark! I expect a good report," Johanna called across the room loudly.

Peeta looked a little stunned for a minute, rubbed the back of his beck and smiled back coolly.

"It'll be A star Miss Mason, I promise!"

The three kids standing beside Jo stared over at Katniss and Peeta looking completely perplexed.

"Hey you three, heads down and concentrate," Jo snapped then smirked at Katniss.

"See you later Katniss," Peeta smiled apologetically at her before walking out. "Jesus," she muttered as if her nerves weren't already frazzled. Would she even make it to 7 tonight?!

*****

Hair done, makeup on, dress on, ah shit perfume still to spritzed, teeth - not brushed!? Oh god yes good breath is imperative. Katniss continued to mentally compile the rest of her to do list while putting the lasagne in the oven. It was quarter to seven and she was running behind, and as Madge predicted the cooking wasn't quite up to Cordon Bleu standards. She had burned the onions in the Bolognese and had to run out to the corner shop to hastily get some more and now the fucking whipping cream for the individual trifles wasn't whipping.

'Soft peaks,' the recipe had said. No peaks, just a runny mess.

Where's Martha Stewart when you need her? She muttered to herself. Hang on, hang on she grinned at her own inventiveness. She pulled out a can of whipped cream from the fridge and started spraying it into the set custard. Sorted. She raced through to the bathroom toothbrush in one hand, her Black Nirvana perfume in the other. You got this in hand Everdeen, all is well she reassured herself in the mirror. She had managed to talk Jo out of applying her makeup by letting her curl her hair instead. The last thing Peeta would want to see surely was her face trowelled on with makeup like Glimmer or (dare she say it) Cashmere?!

Her buzzer rang in a volume that seemed louder than usual or was it her nerves jangling?! She ran over and hit the button.

"Come on up," she called trying to sound casual but epically failing.

1-2-3-4-5, she counted inwardly while standing by the door waiting to let him in. 6-7-8-9-10, oh god oh god it's Peeta, Peeta Mellark soon to be in my apartment, 11-12-13-14-15, on a fucking date.

16-17-18-19, Jesus Mellark how long does it take to walk up to my door?!

20 - a loud purposeful knock came from the other side of the door.

She opened the door a little cautiously. There he was all 5'11 of him, his hair styled lightly with gel so it was pushed away from his forehead. This just intensified his beautiful eyes even more. He wore a black fitted shirt, black jeans with a beige casual jacket over the top. She wasn't sure if Peeta hadn't actually moonlighted as an Abercrombie model in the past because he was certainly working it. She realised she'd just been staring at him when he politely coughed and smiled shyly.

"Oh, hi Peeta come in," she gestured with her hands a little awkwardly.

"Thanks," he grinned walking through. He seemed as on edge as her putting A hand in his pocket.

"Uh these are for you." He handed a paper wrapped small bouquet of golden orange sunflowers.

"They're beautiful, thank you. Take a seat I'll go put them in water. Dinner should be in ten minutes. Would you like some wine?“ she replied a little shrilly. Get to the kitchen Katniss, just get there and calm the fuck down. She scolded herself.

"Uh yeah wine would be good. Thanks. Can I give you a hand with anything?" He called as she sped off to the kitchen,

"No, no just relax," She hurriedly placed the sunflowers in the vase by the window. Grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses. Before leaving she took two deep breaths and then went back through. She sat down next to Peeta on the sofa.

"You look beautiful by the way," he said softly his eyes never leaving hers. She grabbed the wine glass a little too hastily spilling a little on Peeta’s lap.

"Oh jeez I'm so sorry!" She grabbed a tissue from the table.

"Hey, hey it's ok, Katniss it's fine. Was just a little spill." He clasped her hand and gently rubbed her knuckles reassuringly.

"Besides it's not the first time you've spilled alcohol on me," he smirked taking a sip. She couldn't bring herself to take her hand away it felt so good.

"Oh god," she groaned, "that was so embarrassing," remembering her face slamming into his green Lycra clad private parts all those years ago. Peeta laughed.

"Without sounding like a total perv I didn't mind it at all." His flirtatious cheeky manner was in full swing and it was the sexiest feeling in the world to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm glad someone enjoyed my shame," she laughed. His hand was still rubbing hers and god did it feel fucking good. He let go gently and took his jacket off. She missed the skin on skin contact immediately.

"So how was your day?" She asked. He was so good at putting her at ease in every situation.

"Not bad. Effie asked if-" Suddenly Peeta’s voice was drowned by the piercing wail of her fire alarm.

"Wha – oh, shit! The lasagne!”

Leaping out of her seat she ran to the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the oven. Peeta appeared behind her his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you have a dish towel?" He called over the din. She grabbed one from the counter and handed to him. He immediately started wafting the smoke away from the alarm. Springing into action she switched the oven off, pulled open the oven door with the mitt and threw the lasagne in the sink with an almighty clatter. Tears welled up as she stared down at the burned lasagne clogging up her sink. She heard Peeta continue to waft his tea towel and the horrendous mocking sound of the alarm.

Suddenly silence. The smoke had dissipated somewhat but still clung around the kitchen.

"Well...." Peeta still had his hand mid-air clutching the dish towel. "That's a welcome I'll never forget!"

He looked at her and his mouth twitched in amusement. Whatever frustration and anger she had just been feeling drained and she burst into laughter with Peeta following suit. They howled with laughter and after a minute Peeta pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head, before peeling with laughter once again.

"I think...." she breathed clutching her stomach with hilarity, "That this is god’s way of telling me not to cook anymore."

"You think?!" He joked rubbing her back.

The dinner was ruined, her pride a little dented but the incident had diffused the tension she was feeling and for that she was thankful. She could be herself not first date jitters-Katniss.

"You wanna order takeout? She said wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks. "I've got an idea that's way better than takeout. I'll cook for you." He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. There in the middle of a smoky, messy kitchen with her eyes streaming Peeta was caressing her face with both hands and kissing her. The kiss deepened and Katniss moaned, stepping back against the counter to steady herself. He lightly traced her bottom lip with his tongue before gently letting it caress her own. A few minutes passed before he gently pulled back still stroking her face and neck. His blue eyes a tad darker than their usual cerulean hue.

"If you cook the way the way you kiss then I'll be in for a taste sensation," she grinned rubbing her hands up his arms.

"Oh just you wait Everdeen," he pecked her on the lips again before making his way over to her fridge. "Hmm... ok yeah I can work with this," he murmured to himself.

"Go sit and relax, I should be ready in say about 20 minutes." He grabbed a carton of eggs, milk, butter and a packet of bacon.

"What no Peeta. I'm staying here to help you. Least I can do since I burnt your dinner."

"Nuh-uh. If you want your dinner you'll go sit. Go on... too many cooks and all that." He grinned, pulled her in for another embrace from behind and started playfully tickling her.

"Ok, ok, ok I give in," she laughed pulling him in for another kiss.

"Mmm, I could just stand here and do this all evening," he looked lustfully at her. "But I promised you dinner and cheese buns, so scoot. "

She laughed and left him to it. Sinking back onto the sofa she took a large gulp of wine and sighed. What a night. She was nervous as hell wondering how she was going to handle him being there and now there he was cooking her dinner and kissing her in an obscenely sexy way that made her want to clench her thighs together and head to her bedroom to recover. Peeta was special, there was no doubt about it and she felt so lucky that they had reconnected.

Ten minutes later, she heard some dishes clanging together. She kinda felt guilty about leaving him to it but he seemed determined. She switched on some music. The relaxing tones of Massive Attack's Unfinished Sympathy were welcome and soothing. Grabbing the wine bottle she poured herself another glass. She put her fingers up to her lips and thought about that kiss. God....

A loud knock at the front door reverberated through the room. What? Oh come on, who would be knocking at this time on a Friday? Maybe it was the Super coming to inspect the fire alarm. Oh joy. She opened to door quickly.

1-2-3-4-5

"Hey, Katniss."

6-7-8-9-10

"Gale," she uttered.

Duh duh duuuuuuuh! He's back...evil cackle.. Be rest assured i'm no fan of Galeniss in any form lol but Katniss needs to confront and deal with her past once and for all.

For those who don't know, i am a primary teacher like Katniss and I also dislike my time teaching in nursery. Her experiences were definitely drawn from my own. (Although sadly I didnt have Peeta waiting for me with cheese buns....such is life)

#flowers in the window #everlark #everlark fanfiction #katniss and peeta #chapter 4 #was so nervous about posting this #will not as long for next chapter mantra mantra

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shuuenmatsuri · 8 years

Text

@magimagical

merry christmas im sorry you had to get the resident c-ta kicker for your secret santa because this is honestly just c-ta kicking. i hope your christmas is better than his

When the snow season started, C-ta assumed he would be able to stay warm in his home with heating and blankets. He had no plans for being outside—there was nothing enjoyable about being showered by condensed water.

So then why the fuck was he decked out in winter clothes, hat, mittens, scarf and all? Well.

Somehow, either B-ko or D-ne got the idea to “experience the joys of winter” and spent an entire week pestering the rest of the group to play in the snow on a free day. C-ta didn’t really remember when or why it was brought up, and he wouldn’t have cared if A-ya didn’t agree.

Alas, A-ya did agree and now he’s stuck outside. The four of them were in an open field, and while the other three were chatting in front of him, C-ta hugged himself to stay warm. How were the others immune to the cold?

Amidst his reverie, C-ta didn’t notice the group breaking apart and A-ya walking over to him. So, he was unprepared for the rather rude greeting of snow on his cheek. With a yell, C-ta jumped away. Grumbling, he shifted his scarf to cover more of his face.

“You’d be less cold if you didn’t stand like there a statue,” A-ya said. Though his face was blank, C-ta could tell the other enjoyed his small prank.

“I’d be less cold if we weren’t out in the freezing weather.”

“It’s not even that cold.” A-ya stooped down, moving his hands in the snow.

C-ta could barely suppress a scoff. “It is too that cold, and—don’t you dare come near me with that snowball.”

His prayers were slightly answered. While C-ta backed away, A-ya stood in place; however, with utter horror C-ta realized that he was going to hurl the hellish ice ball at him.

One throw and loud shriek later ended up with the snowball missing its target and C-ta crouching on the ground. The two boys couldn’t be more different in how they felt about the situation. One felt slight disappointment about missing, and the other felt pure distress.

Their antics caught the attention of the two girls with them. Despite being a few yards away, they clearly heard C-ta yell at A-ya over… something, and clearly saw A-ya ignoring him to mess around in the snow.

To be exact, they saw him make a couple of snowballs. C-ta must have seen them too, because he was up on his feet in seconds and running off. To B-ko’s surprise, A-ya actually ran after him. A-ya was running. The scene felt rather comical.

The only person not seeing the comedy in this situation was of course, C-ta. Logically, C-ta knew a couple of snowballs wouldn’t spell his demise, and the snowballs lacked force behind them because A-ya was weak. But he was fucking cold, and did not want to be any colder than necessary. So, run he did.

At least A-ya missed every single throw. C-ta knew it was because his best friend sucked at any physical activity, but he’ll attribute it to his own amazing dodging skills to make himself feel better. And luckily, it looked like A-ya was exhausted from the short run. C-ta was free from any more snow brutality.

Except he forgot two other people were in the group, and a snowball from D-ne smacked him right in the center of his face. And before he could recover, the two girls with superior aim pelted even more snowballs at him.

Fuck all of this, honestly.

As soon as the assault ended, C-ta furiously shook off the snow. The chill was bad enough but some snow melted on impact, so he was soaked now, too. Thank god he was wearing several layers, or his skin would be dying. The worst part was his face. D-ne put her full force into that throw, and it stung.

Whatever semblance of patience or control that remained in him soon left, as he grabbed some snow to toss over at the other. The collection of snow fell pitifully short, breaking apart in the air, and didn’t even fly half a foot. The snickers from D-ne just made the ordeal that much more embarrassing.

So, to get back at her, and because he was a mature person, C-ta got to making snowballs at an extremely quick pace. Fueled by spite, he had an army of snowballs behind him, ready for command. And he was ready to chuck them too. Except in his one-track mind, he, once again, forgot there was another participant in this snowball duel. The reminder came to him in the form of A-ya smacking snow against his cheek once more, eliciting a shriek.

“That wasn’t even a snowball!”

“Would you have preferred a snowball?”

“No. No I don’t. But—hey! That was a cheap shot, I wasn’t ready you witch!”

A stray snowball interrupted their bickering, as D-ne simply smiled in response.

And so, started the great snowball fight, and the true reason behind all the rumors about the field being a place for a demonic war. There were no demons. Just two very spiteful students, one reluctant student, and one bemused student.

“Take that! You aren’t so good now when you’re not getting sneak attacks at me, are you?” C-ta continued his rapid snowball making with intent to aim them all at the girl that pissed him off the most. His aim was subpar, but there were hits. And he gloated far too much about those hits.

Though he managed to avoid most of the snowballs thrown his way during the war, C-ta did not come out unscathed. Mainly because while he was fighting, A-ya dumped snow on him periodically. With his own snowball partner against him, C-ta was fighting a mounting battle.

Try as he might, he ended up buried in snow anyway. It wasn’t all bad; he managed to drench the others (sans A-ya) in snow too, so it wasn’t like he completely lost. Plus, he fought at a disadvantage. He would have won 100% if that didn’t happen. He basically won, even if he was the only one in the ground covered in snow. He won.

The day was getting late, though, so after a quick exchange of goodbyes, C-ta heard the others leave. Heard, because he was still sulking with his face in the snow. He assumed the others all left without him, and only sulked more.

Due to that, color him surprised when he felt someone tap his head lightly. To C-ta’s unmatched joy, looking up showed him A-ya staring at him and still here.

“So, do you feel less cold?”

“… You really have too much fun messing with people. Would it have been so hard to give me a hug or something instead of being dramatic about this?”

“Let’s go home.”

Upon those words, C-ta got up and shrugged the snow off him. A-ya really was so roundabout with his ways, but C-ta didn’t particularly dislike it. It was nice.

Walking home with A-ya in the snow was nice, too. It was warm. Much warmer than what he would have gotten if he stayed home.

“You know, I still don’t know why you wanted to play in the snow like this. I thought you’d stay home to spread more rumors.”

“… No particular reason. I wanted to see if the rumor about snow being magical was true or not.”

“So, was it?”

“There’s snow in your scarf.”

“Huh, where? H-Hey, don’t push it against my face! Haven’t you done that enough today?”

Not everything about today was bad, he guessed.

#shuuen secret santa #shuuen no shiori #submission

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