#✘ // Snow in an Ice Storm; Denali. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

To Thaw Her Frozen Heart (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali and Rosé are childhood best friends who love playing with Denali’s ice powers at night. After an accident, Rosé leaves and Denali learns to live without her. When they’re suddenly reunited, will they be able to recover what they lost, or will fate tear them apart again?

(A Frozen AU).

A/N: So I originally had an to do a Frozen AU with Branjie–but I came up with the idea while I was writing Royals, and the overall vibes were so similar that I buried it in my docs and never went back to it. I recently had the idea to do it with Rosnali instead, and I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for encouraging me to do this, helping me brainstorm, and betaing! I couldn’t have done this without them.

Please leave feedback if you’d like!

Title from Frozen Heart from Frozen.

—

“Nali, do you wanna build a snowman?”

Denali jumps out of bed at Rosie’s knock. She throws open the door and grins at her best friend. “Let’s go!”

They keep their voices down as they scamper over the polished floors. They should be in bed, but the portrait room has been their spot since forever, luring them in with high ceilings and big windows that are swallowed by moonlight.

Of all the things her and Rosie do together—chasing each other through the castle for a game of tag; picking fresh berries from the castle bushes and passing them back and forth until they both had purple lips; laughing and spinning around in dresses too big for them as they play dress-up with old clothes in the attic—this is their favorite. A winter wonderland just for them.

The doors open and Denali covers the floor in a blanket of snow. Denali’s parents don’t want her using her powers at all, and these nights are their secret. Denali knows Rosie will never tell, just like she��ll never tell that Denali broke the vase in the entrance hall and still sleeps with her stuffed wolf. Just like Denali will never tell that Rosie is the one who sneaks chocolates from the kitchen and checks under her bed for monsters. There was something sacred in their friendship, something they understood but couldn’t explain, a sense that they knew each other as well as themselves, and always would.

Tonight’s snowman smiles over them as they make snow angels, giggling and staring up at the paintings of kings and queens and explorers on the walls.

“Maybe when we’re grown-ups we can go on adventures and stuff,” Rosie says excitedly. “We can ride horses and fight monsters and—“

“And climb mountains! And swim in the oceans!” Maybe someone would make a painting of them. Denali would definitely smile for it, unlike the mean faces frowning around them.

“Yes!”

“What if you can climb a mountain now?” Denali asks. “I’ll make little ice mountains for you.”

Rosie jumps up and brushes the snow off her, her grin brighter than the moon as Denali lifts her off the ground with a small ice column. She makes another, a little taller, and Rosie leaps onto it. She jumps on them all, higher and higher, a brave adventurer.

“Rosie, slow down!” Denali shoots ice columns as fast as she can, but Rosie leaps for the next one just after her feet touch the last.

“Look how high I can jump!”

“Wait!”

Rosie jumps higher and farther than her other jumps—far past the column Denali had ready for her. Denali desperately shoots another ice blast, hoping it lands under Rosie’s feet–

But it doesn’t.

It hits Rosie instead, and she crashes to the floor with a thud that echoes through the room and every part of Denali’s heart.

Denali doesn’t breathe as she runs to where Rosie is crumpled on the floor, not moving.

“Rosie?” Denali shakes her shoulder gently, but she doesn’t wake up.

The snow had cushioned some of her fall, and Rosie doesn’t look hurt, not like that time she fell outside and scraped both her legs. But Rosie was so brave that she didn’t even cry that time, just sniffled a little when her mom cleaned her up.

She’s not crying now, but she’s not waking up or moving either, when she’s normally always in motion, laughing or dancing or singing. She looks so small. She’s a year older and a little taller than Denali, but now she looks tiny, like she’s always been the smaller one.

Her head slumps back, and Denali stares in shock. In Rosie’s soft red hair, there’s a streak of white. Denali’s never seen hair turn a different color like this, and it can’t be good.

“Hang on, Rosie. I’ll get my mom and dad.”

Slippers are pulled on and doors are slammed as Denali wakes her parents, then Rosie’s, since they’re the royal advisers and sleep next door.

Rosie is blinking awake when Denali leads them back in, her teeth chattering as she shivers in the snow. The snow. Denali’s heart sinks. Now her parents know what they’ve been doing, and she and Rosie will be in so much trouble, and what if they can’t be friends anymore? What if something bad happens to Rosie? Denali forces back the tears in her eyes.

“Rosé!” Rosie’s parents run to her, and Denali runs too, only to be held back by a hand on her shoulder.

“We talked about this, Denali,” her mother hisses. “These powers aren’t something you can play with. Rosie needs a healer, or she’ll freeze solid.”

Denali wants to protest, tell her mom that she’s careful and tonight was an accident, that she would never hurt Rosie on purpose, but she hears the echo of her mother’s words, hears Rosie’s parents whispering about how cold she is, and knows tonight is all her fault. Hot tears flood the collar of her pajamas.

“There’s a healer up north who can fix her,” Denali’s mom says to Rosie’s parents, calm and cool like the queen she is.

The whispers continue, too hushed for Denali to hear, but she knows they’re taking Rosie from her.

“What healer? Can I come?” Denali asks.

“No, Denali.”

“But—“

Her mother flashes her a stern look, and Denali quiets.

Rosie’s parents scoop her up and carry her out, and that’s the last time Denali sees her.

—

Denali watches the following years from her bedroom window.

Rosie and her parents move to another castle. Denali writes her letters, but she never gets a reply back, not a single word in Rosie’s loopy handwriting. Without Rosie, her powers fade for a while, tiny pricks of ice when she once made mountains, but when they return, it’s with the ferocity of an ice storm. She knows it’s worse when she’s missing Rosie, like when her birthday passes without their tradition of having tea in the rose garden, or when the lake freezes over and there’s no one to skate on it with. At those times, the ice digs into Denali’s heart and flows outward, tears freezing on her cheeks as everything around her frosts over.

She stays in her room all day, even takes meals there when she can’t stop freezing the table because a laughing redhead should be beside her, and ice covers her room like dust of a life unlived.

The castle remains shut, just Denali and her parents inside, so there’s no chance of her hurting someone while she spends her days inside, working on control.

Don’t miss her so much. You can visit her when you can control your powers, her parents instruct, slipping thick white gloves over her hands. Conceal it, don’t feel it.

So Denali conceals it. She takes all the memories with Rosie–the time she was stuck in bed with a cold and Denali read to her all day; snowy mornings warmed by hot chocolate and smiles; golden autumn days shining with leaves–buries them inside her heart, and lets it freeze over like the lake. She is the lake now, and everything she wants to feel is pushed underneath, sinking to the earth. A polished surface is all they’ll see of her.

By 18, she’s given up on the letters. By 19, she can spend a few hours outside her room without freezing everything.

By 21, the lakes of her heart are beyond thawing.

—

Denali can’t remember the last time so many people were in the castle. She hears the crowd’s distant hum, ecstatic voices streaming to the grand hall for her birthday feast, where she’s expected in five minutes. But she can’t go with her gloves on, and every time she peels them off her shaking hands, her fingertips freeze.

She takes a deep breath. She can do this. The gloves come off, and she’s normal. Just a normal princess about to see hundreds of people for the first time in fifteen years. The castle already feels too small, too crowded, too loud, with everyone inside, disturbing the silence that normally consumes things. She’s not even inside yet and she can see them staring at her, judging her, wondering why the castle was locked all these years. If she can’t control her powers, they’ll know why.

She strides out, icy blue dress rippling like water around her. There was a time when this was all she wanted. All those hours with Rosie, trying on dresses and imagining wearing them to balls, Denali glowing with the confidence of a princess and Rosie glowing with confidence that was all her own, title or not. Now, all Denali wants is to hide in her room.

The air flies out of Denali’s lungs when she sees a redhead in the crowd. It could be anyone in the world, she tells herself. She’s just seeing things because she’s stressed, and the ice pricking at her fingers proves it.

Though she used to dream of feasts and has missed countless ones over the years, this one is nothing special, nothing to make her regret missing the others. There are food and drinks, nobles and leaders, handshakes and small talk. Her parents do the talking; Denali just has to smile on occasion, a perfect princess, and even smiling is hard enough when she’s done so little of it the past years, her face a frozen mask. Not like the days when all it took was a smile from Rosie to make Denali smile too.

The dishes are cleared, and everyone walks to the ballroom for a night of dancing. Denali’s wondering if she can duck out early when there’s a tap on her shoulder.

“It’s really you,” the person says, and Denali turns and looks into eyes she’s never forgotten.

Rosie.

Denali doesn’t believe it at first. Maybe she doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to believe that her childhood best friend is a grown-up too. That their world of tea parties and dress-up and games is truly gone. Maybe it would be easier to believe if she and Rosie had grown up together like they should have, if she had watched Rosie grow taller, seen her face change into the person looking at her now.

And the person looking at her, though older, is completely, unmistakably Rosie. Denali would know her anywhere, even after all this time with Rosie only existing in her memory. The same soft, coppery hair with its streak of white, the same warm eyes that would light up in mischief, the same blinding smile unleashed without hesitation around Denali.

Denali falters. She doesn’t know how many times she imagined seeing Rosie again, rehearsing her words, but now she’s speechless. Where does she start? How did the healer fix her? Why didn’t she answer Denali’s letters? Does she hate Denali? Is Rosie still the same person who dreamt of adventure and liked honey on her bread?

“Rosie,” Denali breathes, and it’s somehow everything at once.

—

Denali takes Rosie to the portrait room. The faces on the wall are old friends, more welcoming than the ballroom crowd they’re avoiding.

They sit on the floor like they used to, and it’s so familiar that Denali can almost pretend the past 15 years didn’t happen. That they’ve never been apart.

“We used to come here all the time,” Rosie says. “I swear I’ve had dreams about this room.”

“You probably have. We basically lived in here,” Denali says. “Do you remember that time it rained all day and we had a picnic in here?”

“And we tried to make sandwiches but you dropped the stuff all over the kitchen–”

“And you tried to cook an apple over the fireplace and almost burned your arm,” Denali says, and then they’re both laughing, a sound that makes everything seem more real, less like a dream. She has Rosie back, and her heart is lighter than it’s been in years, beating strong with a new joy.

But then there’s a pause, and as much as Denali wants to tell stories all night, she needs to know what happened after Rosie left.

“How come you’re at the ball?” Denali asks.

“I was invited,” Rosie says. “I wouldn’t crash a party.”

“You would and you know it, Rosie,” Denali says.

“I always liked how you called me Rosie,” she says, eyes on the floor. “Everyone else calls me Rosé. That’s all I ever go by now.”

Denali swallows, wondering how else Rosie–Rosé–has changed, if there’s only a little of Rosie left in her. “Where do you live now? What happened after …” she can’t bring up the accident yet.

“What do you mean?” Rosé asks. “My parents got hired as advisers to the lord of Riverton, and that’s why we left. Your parents recommended them for it.”

Denali shakes her head. “You left because there was an accident. We were playing, and I hurt you by mistake, and I’m so sorry–”

“Accident?” Rosé bites her lip in confusion. “There wasn’t an accident.”

“Yes there was.”

“I don’t—I don’t remember that, Denali. I swear I don’t.” Her voice is sincere, and Denali already knows she’s telling the truth, because Rosé rubs her neck when she lies.

But how can she not remember? Denali can’t forget the sound of Rosé falling, how limp she was as Denali tried to wake her, how she was carried away without a goodbye. How it was all Denali’s fault.

“I wrote you letters,” Denali says, changing gears. “You never wrote back.”

“I never got letters from you!” Rosé’s eyes are wide. “I wrote you dozens of letters and never got anything back. Something’s wrong here.” She wrings her hands together, clearly stressed; Denali remembers how, anytime she was in a bad mood, Rosé would always ask how she was feeling and what she needed, a great communicator. This confusion must be eating her up, and Denali needs to fix it.

Clarity hits her like ice, and Denali knows who she needs to talk to.

Her parents.

—

In the ballroom, Denali’s parents are talking and laughing like nothing is wrong. Like they haven’t lied to Denali for most of her life. She doesn’t have an ounce of guilt as she pulls them into the hall, mind spinning with what to call them out on first.

“What’s this about, Denali?” her mother asks. “We’re in the middle of a ball for your birthday, if you didn’t notice–”

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time! You made Rosé and her parents leave, and you never sent my letters! And Rosé—she has no idea the accident happened! Did you block her memory or something?”

The queen sighs, sensing Denali’s anger too much to deny her. “We didn’t do it. Her parents did.”

“But how?” Denali knows it wasn’t a normal healer they took Rosé to, but could you really erase a memory?

“After the healer fixed her, Rosé was … upset. She was worried about you, kept yelling and asking for you. Nothing could calm her down. Her parents asked the healer to erase her memory of the accident and convince her that your powers were all her imagination. That way, she was calm, and she couldn’t tell anyone about your powers.” The queen’s voice is as calm as always, like she’s discussing business plans and not a lie that was kept from her daughter for fifteen years.

Rage and power rise in Denali’s chest, bumping against the layers of ice that always tamp her feelings down. She can’t imagine how scared Rosé must have been, waking up in some strange healer’s place, how her first instinct—look for Denali—couldn’t help her. Of course she was upset, and yet the main concern wasn’t how to help her, but how to keep her quiet. “They had no right to do that to her!”

“They really did think it would help her, Denali. They didn’t want her suffering from the memory her whole life.”

For a second, Denali wonders if it’s worse to take someone’s memory away, or let them suffer from it. Rosé’s parents thought they were helping her. Had Denali’s parents considered offering her that same mercy? Or did they think suffering would turn her into the princess she needed to be?

“And the letters? You never sent them, did you?”

“No,” her mother says. “We worried you would be in danger if word of your powers got out. We all decided it was best to separate you two. Then you could control yourself without her to distract you, and Rosé could go on thinking she imagined your powers. No one would know or get hurt. We invited her today since you’re in control.”

“You lied to me! My whole life, you lied to me. You took my best friend away and just left me in my room!” Denali shakes with rage, the heat of her anger blocking out the dull coldness tingling in her hands. For the past fifteen years, she’s blamed herself. Blamed herself for missing with her ice, for hurting Rosé, for being the reason she had to leave. But now it’s different. She and Rosé didn’t just lose years of friendship and memories—it was stolen from them.

“Denali.”

The words are a warning, one Denali can’t listen to. Not when everything was taken from her, when she spent so long locked inside this castle, blame and anger and loneliness heaped on shoulders too young to bear it, while the people with the power to ease the burden looked the other way.

Power courses through her, and the first ice blast destroys the ballroom doors. The second freezes the walls and sends people running, screaming and shoving others out of the way. Denali hears her parents warning her to stop, but it’s so far beyond her control that her hands don’t feel like they belong to her. Her heart pounds so fast it hurts, the ache growing sharper with her gasps for breath. She can’t stop the ice from pouring out of her hands, creeping along walls and floors while people run—

“Hey, Denali, it’s all right.”

It’s Rosé, of course, fearless and calming as ever. Denali’s port in a storm, helping her even when others ran. Denali sees the shape of her, the pink dress trailing down her body, but everything else is blurred. She faintly hears people calling for her arrest, calling her a monster.

Monster.

It rings through her ears, sharp as a knife. She has a sudden view of the people huddled in the corners, terror on their faces, and she falters. This isn’t what she wanted.

“I–I’m not a monster, I—“ Denali tries to breathe, to stop shaking. It’s all too much–the mass of people, the ear-splitting shouts, the burning stares. Everything’s closing in, and the ice around her isn’t an attack anymore. It’s protection.

“Breathe, Denali,” Rosé soothes.

She tries, but the royal guard is approaching as the crowd shouts for them to take her away. One raises his sword, dangerously close to Rosé. If he swings at Denali, Rosé will be in the crossfire, and Denali doesn’t hesitate to send an ice blast to stop him. Only—

Only he pushes Rosé in front of him, and the blast hits her in the chest.

Denali is six years old again, watching helplessly as Rosé gasps. Ice explodes around her, driving back the crowd and giving Denali space to finally breathe. By the time her vision clears, another streak of Rosé’s hair is snowy white, and her knees are wobbling. “Rosie? Are you—“

“I knew your powers were real,” Rosé says weakly, and she faints into Denali’s arms.

—-

Denali doesn’t hesitate. She changes her clothes, packs a bag, and slings Rosé into the carriage with her.

She escapes the crowd calling her a monster, leaves her parents to smooth things over, and sets off with a rumpled map of the north, grateful to have Wintervale behind her. The world outside is cold and crisp, wind biting at the carriage, and Denali sucks in every bit of air she can get, savoring the freedom despite the worry of Rosé’s shivering body beside her. Everything is swirling like a blizzard inside her–the anger, the worry, the fear, the determination. It’s more than she’s felt since she was six, more than she’s had reason to feel since she was six, and each emotion strains against a chest that doesn’t know how to hold so much.

She doesn’t know what will happen now that her secret is out, now that half the kingdom is afraid of her, but she doesn’t care. She can’t care, because she has to get Rosé to the healer. She can’t allow herself to feel anything else until Rosé is healed, shoving away emotions she doesn’t have room for. Despite how fast the horses are going, the north is so vast it feels like they’re barely moving.

“Are you warm enough?” Denali asks, biting her lip in stress. She had wrapped Rosé in two blankets and slipped extra thick gloves over her own hands, for protection as much as for warmth. Each layer is a barrier between them, another thing preventing Denali’s touch from freezing Rosé, because Denali can’t trust herself.

“Yes.” Rosé looks at her, bright eyes sizing her up. “Don’t make that face, Denali. I know that face. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I hurt you!”

“It was an accident. Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you at all. I mean it.”

Denali doesn’t have it in her to argue. It wasn’t that her parents explicitly blamed her for everything; they just didn’t stop her from blaming herself. Never granted her the gentle kindness that comes through in every word Rosé says. Rosé is not only stopping Denali from blaming herself, but giving her the grace and permission to forgive herself too. And maybe Denali can.

“Denali?”

“Yes?”

“This happened before. That’s what you said in the portrait room.” It’s not a question, and Denali wonders if her powers jogged something in Rosé’s memory.

“It did,” Denali says. The lie ends with her. ��One time when we were kids, I was making ice mountains for you to climb. You jumped too far, though, and I tried–I tried to catch you, but I hit you instead. My parents and your parents took you to this healer–the one we’re going to now–and they stopped the ice from hurting you. But my mother said you were upset and your parents had the healer erase the accident from your memory.”

Rosé nods. There’s only a little recognition in her face, and Denali wonders what it’s like to not remember such a big event in your life, to just have it erased. To have to trust that what Denali is telling her is true. “I remember some parts,” Rosé says. “I remember the healer’s cabin, how you could see the mountains from her window. I wanted to show you, but you weren’t there and I started crying. I … I remember asking to see you, but everyone said no. I thought you might be in trouble so I told them it wasn’t your fault, that it was an accident, but no one would listen. The healer did some spell, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up, we were in Riverton.” Rosé shakes her head bitterly. “I’d have dreams about your powers, and they felt so real, but I thought I made it up—“

“It’s okay.” Denali wants to pat her knee, soothe her the way Rosé would if the positions were reversed, but she can’t. Not with the danger her hands carry.

Rosé just nods.

“I’m sorry,” Denali says. “I’m sorry about then and I’m sorry about now.”

“Well, I forgive you. Then and now.” Despite the slight pain clouding her eyes, despite the wind whipping around, Rosé flashes her brilliant smile. “Hey, it looks like we got our adventure after all.”

Denali smiles too.

—

They stop for the night when the snow hits. Huge snowflakes flutter down like pieces of clouds, stark against the pitch-black sky. Denali can’t see well between the snow and the dark, and even though she wants to push on, Rosé has been silent and half-asleep the past hour, the ice undoubtedly weakening her joyful, talkative self, and Denali knows she needs to rest.

She pulls the carriage into a valley of pine trees.

“Rosie, we’re stopping for the night,” she says softly.

Rosé nods faintly, and Denali looks at her with a pang of guilt. More white streaks through her hair like a mountain pass and her face is just as pale, each movement stiff and wracked with shivers. She reaches out to help Rosé into the back of the carriage, then stops abruptly, frozen with fear.

“You can touch me,” Rosé says.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Again, Denali thinks but doesn’t add.

“You won’t hurt me,” Rosé says. But she climbs out herself.

The back of the carriage is just big enough to sleep in, and Denali presses herself against the side, leaving as much room as possible between them.

“T–take one of my blankets,” Rosé says. She’s curled up as tight as she can to stay warm, and Denali curses herself for not grabbing more blankets in her rush.

“Don’t need it.” Denali’s barely noticed the cold. Her heart’s already frozen anyway, how much colder could she get?

“Tell me if you do,” Rosé says quietly.

Denali nods, but she knows she won’t, just like she won’t sleep tonight. She can’t trust herself with the release of sleep, can’t risk bumping into Rosé and hurting her.

Rosé blinks sluggishly, trying to ward off the sleep fogging her eyes.

“Rosie, get some sleep,” Denali says.

“I’m not leaving you alone. Not like last time.” There’s a firmness in her voice Denali wouldn’t have thought possible, and she doesn’t argue.

“I almost forgot,” Rosé continues. “I have a present for you.”

“You didn’t have to—“

“I missed all your birthdays, Denali.”

“I missed all yours, too.”

“Well, I guess I have a bunch of presents from you to look forward to,” Rosé teases cheerfully. “You know I love presents.”

Denali smirks. “You do.”

“Anyway, here’s yours.” Rosé removes one arm from her blankets, hissing when the cold hits, and extends a box to Denali.

Inside is a necklace with a tiny snowflake charm, and Denali immediately clasps it around her neck.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, Rosie. Thank you.”

Rosé coughs. “Denali, I know you might not like your powers, but they’re–they’re beautiful. Like–”

“Like me?” Denali interrupts, cutting off the swell of her heart before it grows too big, breaks through the ice.

“I would’ve said like me.” Rosé laughs. “But like you too.”

Denali smiles, grateful it’s too dark for Rosé to see her blushing cheeks.

“Do you–do you remember that night it was raining?” Rosé asks with a yawn. “And we looked at the stars?”

“Of course I do.” Denali knows Rosé should sleep, but she’s doing this to spare Denali from being alone, and it’s the most kindness she’s been shown in over a decade. So Denali plays along, retracing the night rain lashed at the windows and kept her awake, how she went to Rosé’s room and found her awake too, and they sat by the window while Rosé told stories about the stars until they fell asleep tangled together on the window seat.

“I used to look at the stars in Riverton. They were never as pretty as they were from Wintervale. But I always hoped you were looking at them too.” Rosé smiles, and Denali thinks some of her heart melts.

“I was.” Even if they were apart, Denali knows they were at least seeing the same stars, like their souls were calling out to each other. Denali tells Rosé the stories Rosé once told her, soothing her with tales of heroes earning their places in the sky, of the beauty in each star, until Rosé finally gives into her exhaustion and falls asleep.

Denali pulls off her long coat and throws it over Rosé, sleep allowing Rosé to take a favor she would never accept if she was awake.

Rosé seems so much younger in her sleep; looking at her now, the world silent except for her gentle breathing, Denali feels like she’s coming apart at the seams, because right now, she’s not seeing Rosé; she’s seeing Rosie, the girl she cared for more than anything else. And just like that, everything she’s kept inside all day–all her life–is rising to the surface, and the ice isn’t enough to contain it anymore.

It was easier to control things when they were apart, when Denali was alone in her room with no one to talk to. She learned to be comfortable with solitude, with the cold. At first, she childishly believed the promise her parents kept stringing along, fantasizing about visiting Rosé one day and striking up a game of tag even if they were too old. But as she got older, she knew it was just a fantasy, and it made things easier. She could control her feelings when there was nothing to cause them, dry tinders without a spark. There was no Rosé to tell jokes and burst into song and make Denali smile and laugh. Denali only had as much joy as she could bring herself, and staring at the same walls every day didn’t bring much. There was nothing to make her lose control.

But now Rosé is back, when Denali never thought she would be, and so are the feelings Denali pushed down so deep she thought they were beyond recovering. She was barely prepared to see people in the castle today, and ending the night with Rosé was the last thing she expected. Her heart is wrung out like a sponge, unused to such feeling after years of faintly beating–the joy of seeing Rosé’s smile again, the familiarity of the freckles dusting her shoulders, the relief of knowing Rosé still understands her, is still her friend. The hope that after all this, Rosé can stay for good.

If Denali doesn’t lose her first.

She knows it was an accident, that she didn’t mean to do it. But it still happened, and Denali provided the weapon. The old ache rises in her, the pain attached to the memory of hurting someone as good and kind as Rosé, someone so close to her, practically part of her. She’s more than Denali’s best friend—she’s a tie to her past, a time before the sadness. Proof and hope that the happiness that painted their days can color the world again.

She touches the necklace at her throat. Your powers are beautiful, Rosé said. Maybe she’s right. Maybe just because her powers are cold and sharp at times doesn’t mean they always have to be. When they were kids, Denali’s powers brought them such joy. Maybe she can have that again. With Rosé. Because she’s going to make it, and they’ll be friends after this. Denali knows it.

Rosé sighs in her sleep, and it sounds like Nali, Denali’s heart tugging again as she pretends it’s the wind. A piece of hair falls over Rosé’s face, and as much as Denali wants to tuck it behind her ear, she resists. Once Rosé is healed and Denali is in control, not shaken with both the joy of getting Rosé back and the fear of losing her all over again, then Denali can touch her. She hides her hands behind her back and watches over Rosé until the morning sun sets her hair alight and shines through the cracks in Denali’s heart.

—

Rosé can barely move the next morning. Denali catches her tiny winces, likely from how sore and stiff she is after all the shivering and clenching of her muscles. Denali’s hands hover behind her, a silent offer of help that she’s afraid to give and that Rosé probably won’t ask for, not wanting Denali to worry about her. Rosé only manages a few bites of the apple Denali packed, offering the rest to Denali, and, after Denali refuses, to the horses, who gobble it up.

“We’ll be there soon, I promise,” Denali says.

Rosé nods, and Denali convinces herself the bluish tinge to Rosé’s lips is just a trick of the light, nudging the horses to go faster. They move through blinding snow and towering mountains, the whole world a page from the storybooks they used to read. She’ll be okay, Denali tells herself. Because if this is a story, it deserves a happy ending.

The horses dip into a valley, a small cottage tucked between the trees. Mountains loom in the background, and Denali knows this is the place. She feels at peace here somehow. Like the mountains will keep her safe, a cocoon around her.

“I kn–knew you you’d like it here,” Rosé says.

“I really do.”

“Shall we?” Rosé offers a shaky arm to Denali, and Denali pretends not to see how hurt Rosé is when she won’t take it. She knows how important touch is to Rosé, their childhood painted with Rosé grabbing her hand as they ran across the land, arms wrapping around her in a hug, all Rosé’s way of showing she was there. A language the two of them spoke that Denali no longer knows the words to.

The cabin door swings open after Denali knocks, and her heart soars at the fire crackling in the fireplace. Rosé collapses in front of it, soaking up the first warmth she’s had in a day, the warmth any human besides Denali could give her.

“You again.” A person emerges from the corner of the cottage, and for all the old healers in the stories, this woman is young, with pale skin and blonde hair.

“You remember her?” Denali asks.

“I do.” The blonde nods severely. “My name is Brooke, by the way.” She bustles about and wraps another blanket around Rosé, and Denali burns with jealousy at someone who can touch so easily, so mindlessly.

“Can you help her?” Denali asks desperately.

Brooke shakes her head.

“You didn’t even try!”

“I can sense what’s wrong with her, and I can’t fix it. I’m sorry.”

“But you fixed her before!”

Brooke sighs. “I was only fixing her head back then. But now the ice is too close to her heart, and that’s much harder to fix. The only thing that can save her is an act of true love.”

Denali shakes her head frantically. She can’t have come all this way just to be told the answer is unobtainable. “Isn’t there anything else that can fix her? Something I can actually find? I mean, I can’t just buy true love! What about a potion or something–”

“There’s nothing else. I’m sorry.” Brooke pauses. “I can tell you two things. The first is that you won’t have to look far to help her. The second is that you shouldn’t run from your feelings.”

Denali clenches her jaw. She came here to help Rosé, not have some woman she’s known for three minutes tell her what to do. “And if I don’t find it, she’ll–” Denali knows, because her mother had told her what would happen all those years ago. But knowing and accepting are two different things.

“She’ll freeze solid,” Brooke confirms, and Denali thinks maybe this won’t have a happy ending after all.

—

“W–what do we do now?” Rosé asks, hands on her knees. The walk to the carriage winded her, and each wheezing breath pierces Denali’s heart.

“I don’t know.” Denali doesn’t even know what to say. All this time she had a plan that couldn’t go wrong, a purpose to push her along and keep her focused. Now the plan is shot and her purpose has nothing to direct it. She can barely look away from how pale Rosé is, the blue of her lips unable to be explained away anymore, ice crystals clinging to her hair. “I guess … I guess we go back to the castle. See if someone there can help.” It sounds good, but it’s just an empty promise. Denali knows there won’t be any cure beyond what Brooke told her, and the lie is just as much for her benefit as Rosé’s.

Rosé nods, like she knows it’s a lie but doesn’t want to call Denali a liar. “Do you think we have time to do something first?”

Denali doesn’t, but Rosé smiles hopefully, and Denali can’t deny her anything. “What is it?”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

—

Denali looks down at her gloves. This whole time, they’ve been her armor, but in reverse–not to protect her, but to protect Rosé. Rosé can’t really be in worse shape than she’s in, but what if Denali accidentally speeds up the freezing, takes away whatever Rosé has left?

“You don’t have to use your powers,” Rosé says, like she’s reading her mind. “We’ll do it by hand. Not all of us are magic, you know.” Rosé laughs, and Denali knows she’s using every ounce of strength she has to do this, to be cheerful and have fun with Denali, and she won’t let her down.

“Let’s do it,” Denali says.

They build up the snow like they’re kids again, and Denali wants to stay inside this moment forever, a living snow globe, reliving it again and again with every shake. The snow clinging to Rosé’s eyelashes catching the sun and bathing her whole face in golden light. The smiles and laughs that come so easily Denali doesn’t have to think about them. The snow soft and bright and beautiful around them, an old friend welcoming them home.

But the snowglobe shatters when Rosé is hit with a burst of cold so bad it makes her whimper and curl into herself, and Denali knows they don’t have any time to waste in getting to the carriage.

“Denali?” Rosé’s voice is almost enough to stop Denali’s heart. “Denali, I can’t feel my legs.”

Denali turns around. A layer of solid ice covers Rosé’s boots and creeps toward her knees.

“No!” No, no, no. Denali runs to her, and before she stops herself, Rosé is in her arms. Denali holds her tight, squeezing her waist and lowering her gently to the ground. Denali curses herself and her stupid powers, wishing so badly she could take the ice away, take the pain away. All she can do is create more ice, create more cold and pain. “No, no, Rosie, please.”

“Shhh,” Rosè whispers, one shaking hand resting on Denali’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Denali lets out a strangled laugh, because Rosé is the one freezing over and Denali should be comforting her, not the other way around, but Rosé just can’t bear to see anyone hurting.

Rosé strokes Denali’s arm with her thumb, and this, more than anything, makes Denali truly sob. Because all this time, Denali’s been afraid to touch Rosé, been afraid of herself, but Rosé has never been afraid of her, not once in her life, and the gentle touch is a reminder that she never will be. A reminder that Denali doesn’t have to be afraid of herself either.

“I’m sorry, Rosie, I’m so sorry. Pl–please don’t go, please.”

Rosé hisses in a shaky breath as the ice hits her thighs. “Nali …”

“I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.” Denali can barely get the words past the lump in her throat. Hot tears roll down to her jacket, the only bit of warmth she’ll probably have again. She can feel how cold Rosé is even through their layers, but she doesn’t let go. She can’t let go. She couldn’t give Rosé the touch she desperately wanted all this time, but she’s giving it to her now, and nothing can make her stop.

“Denali.” Rosé coughs sharply, looking up at Denali with glassy eyes. “Denali, I–I love you. I love you so much. Is it okay if I kiss you before–”

Denali leans down and presses their lips together. Rosé is shaking uncontrollably but Denali holds her steady, keeps her together. Her own heart is pounding and she can feel Rosé’s through her lips, a sign that she’s still alive, still has some warmth coursing through her. Her lips carry the chill of a blizzard but are still soft beneath Denali’s, soft and loving and caressing her own the gentle way Rosé herself would.

When the lips beneath hers harden, Denali knows Rosie is gone.

She pulls herself away, forcing herself to look down at the woman in her arms. Rosé is frozen solid, an ice sculpture so real, so beautiful, that no human would ever be able to recreate it. Denali won’t let go of her, because beneath the ice is someone who was kissing her, breathing, living, just seconds ago, and to let her go would be to abandon her, to prove that Rosé really is gone.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” Denali’s tears trail down over them both. “I’m sorry. You were–you were the best friend I ever had, and you make me–you make me so happy. Rosie, I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry I told you too late.”

The words feel right after she says them, like they’ve been looming beneath her ice for years, waiting to be let out. Denali’s loved her for a while, she realizes. Some part of her had always known, the part that would forever treasure Rosé and call out to her. Denali just had to let herself feel it. Every ounce of those feelings swell in her now, the love and devotion and affection she denied herself for so long. All she can do is hold Rosé and cry, wishing she had told her sooner, so that Rosé would have known she was loved before she was gone.

It takes Denali a while to notice that her cheeks are dry. Her mind struggles to process it, because she’s still crying, but she can’t feel the dampness on her cheeks.

She takes a breath, and she realizes Rosé is wiping her tears away.

“Please don’t cry,” Rosé whispers. “Look.” She carefully tips Denali’s head down to look at her, and instead of the frozen woman she expects to see, the ice is melting into the snow underneath.

Rosé is melting.

Her hair has returned to its brilliant soft red, even the old streak gone, like the wounds from their past have fully healed. The color is coming back to her cheeks, a smile coming with it.

“How are you–” She lowers a hand to Rosé’s face to test that she’s really here, but stops halfway. Rosé grabs her hand and rests it there herself, and Denali gives in, cupping Rosé’s cheek and feeling her warmth.

“I told you you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I love you,” Denali says.

“I love you too.”

An act of true love, Denali realizes. Just as her ice had frozen Rosé, it was her love that thawed her.

Denali leans down to kiss her again, and even though she knows they have to return home, that she has to fix the mess she left behind, she has Rosé in her arms, now and forever, and she’s never going to let go.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #frozen au #fluff #hurt/comfort #mild angst #s13 #athena2 #tw mild injury #concrit welcome #submission

18 notes · View notes

blueeyesspitfire · 5 years ago

Text

Goals

Somehow, it’s already late November. We’ve had lows in the single digits and a little bit of snow. It’s cliche to say, but I feel like just yesterday I was swimming in Lake Ontario and kayaking in the Salmon River reservoir. Around this time last year, we were recovering from our second major snowfall in the North Country. After that storm, things were relatively calm until the new year. Temperatures right now have been hovering just above freezing, with warm days ahead.

The team is doing well, but I’m apprehensive about sending in a Can-Am Crown 30 entry. Our goal for this season is a mid-distance race. We need to put on more miles and pick up our pace a bit. My home trail is full of sections that aren’t safe for fast speeds on the rig, due to rocks, roots, and tight corners around trees. Once there’s a nice base layer of snow, we’ll be able to cut loose with the sled.

In the mean time, we have plenty of other things to work on. We finally did some passing training with other mushers this past weekend. Roy Smith ran a few teams of his sporty stag hounds and Jordan Rode joined us with his solo husky for some bikejoring. It’s been so long since my dogs have had time out with other teams, I really didn’t know what to expect. I figured most of them would be fine, but Hubble has been my wildcard, Knox can be rude, and Denali has a habit of turning around to watch other teams approaching.

The main trail we started on was a sheet of ice, so brakes weren’t really an option unless we kept the teams all the way on the shoulder. Once we made it onto side trails, things shaped up and we did some leap-frog style passing. I kept a Baskerville muzzle on Hubble just in case he was snappy, but he showed very little interest in interacting with the other teams—ideal! Knox, on the other hand, shoved himself towards Roy’s dogs a couple times and barked. Luckily, he didn’t make contact or start any fights. Denali turned around to watch the teams when they were coming up behind us, but only for the first few minutes. After awhile, she got over it, and seemed eager to stay in the lead. It’s funny how the younger dogs (Laika, Hubble, Blitz, and Willow) were all perfect. I didn’t have to worry or correct them at all. It’s a good sign for the future of my team. I just have to hope that when Sagan and Hopper take over for Denali and Knox, they continue the good-behavior trend.

All in all, we did a handful of passes with Roy’s 6-dog teams and his ATV, as well as one pass with Jordan on his bike. Exposure to other teams also means other training tools—carts, ATVs, bikes, etc.—so I’m happy to see my dogs weren’t spooked by the ATV’s noise. Roy and I also stopped our teams side by side for a few seconds, and the dogs were mostly good. We avoided a potential squabble and kept moving, and the dogs ran very close together without a problem.

The only downside of the day came from an angry hunter. When we set out, there was a truck parked directly at the opening of the side trail we were planning to return on. We assessed and figured we could make our way around it without any issue, so we mushed on. When we made it back, another truck was parked perpendicular to it. We had enough room to pass on the right, but when we did, one of the hunters asked me something. I couldn’t quite hear and with Roy’s team coming up behind me, I tried to slow down enough to hear her without stopping, and the team pulled the rig up against one of their trucks. We didn’t crash into it or scrape it, but we did push against the bottom plastic part of the bumper. I kept moving and the truck’s owner came out in a huff.

Once I got the dogs settled at my own truck, I went back over to apologize for the chaos and made sure I didn’t do any damage (I knew I hadn't). It was abundantly clear that this particular hunter was pissed off at us for being there and not for touching his truck. I get it—it is hunting season. This is why I generally avoid running in the state lands this time of year, and especially on weekends. We very intentionally planned our run for late morning, knowing most hunters are out around dawn and dusk. My own neighbor politely asked that I run midday on our land so he can hunt, which I’m happy to oblige. What I don’t like is the implication that I shouldn’t be in the forest at all. I should note that the other hunters I spoke to were kind and actually interested in seeing the Tug Hill Challenge in February.

Despite this one bad interaction, the people of the North Country have taken me in as one of their own. Roy and his friend, Tom, came by and helped get my snowmobile running. My Twitter friends, Amanda and Jennifer, are planning a weekend in Saranac Lake this winter and I can’t wait. Niki, my fellow North Country newbie, has extended her ever-growing friend circle to me, and now I have plans for Thanksgiving. There’s a lot to be grateful for in this weird and wild place.

1 note · View note

itsmonika · 3 years ago

Text

Native American Full Moon Names

The 12 Full Moon Names and Meanings

Albeit the most ordinarily utilized Full Moon names are English understandings of Native American names, some are additionally Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, middle age English, and Neo-Pagan.

A large number of the names come from the Colonial Americans embracing Native American names into their schedules, as per the Old Farmer's Almanac.

January: Wolf Moon

The January Full Moon is regularly called the Wolf Moon from the wailing of hungry wolves in the colder time of year. This name is remembered to have a Celtic and Old English beginning, and that European pioneers carried it to North America.

Other Celtic names incorporate Stay Home Moon and Quiet Moon. Moon After Yule is an Anglo-Saxon adaptation, alluding to the pre-Christian Yule (or Juul) festivities around the colder time of year solstice. Local American names are Severe Moon and Center Moon.

A major yellow Full Moon setting behind frigid Alaska Range mountains close to Denali with pine trees in the forefront.

A Full Moon setting over the snow-shrouded piles of the Alaska Range, US.

©iStockphoto.com/R Lolli Morrow

February: Snow Moon

The Snow Moon in February is suitably named after bountiful snowfall. A few North American clans called it the Hungry Moon because of the scant food sources during mid-winter, while others named it Bear Moon to allude to when bear offspring are conceived. Storm Moon, Ice Moon, and Snow Moon were normal Celtic and Old English names.

Walk: Worm Moon

The last Full Moon of the colder time of year season in March is the Worm Moon in view of the night crawlers that come out when the dirt heats up. Local American clans called it the Crow Moon for the crows returning, Snow Crust Moon, and Sap and Sugar Moon for when the maple sap runs.

The Anglo-Saxons called it Lenten Moon after the Germanic Lenten for spring. The Celts called it the Wind Moon and Plow Moon. In Old English, it was known as the Death Moon and the Chaste Moon alluding to the virtue of the spring season.

April: Pink Moon

April has the Full Pink Moon, from the pink phlox wildflowers that sprout in North America in the late-winter. The Native American names alluded to the spring defrosts and the arrival of development, including Breaking Ice Moon and The Moon of the Red Grass Appearing.

Normal names in Europe additionally alluded to the maturing and birth of spring: The Anglo-Saxons called it Egg Moon, the Celts had names like Budding Moon, New Shoots Moon, Seed Moon, and Growing Moon. A Neo-Pagan name is Awakening Moon.

The April Full Moon can likewise be the Paschal Moon, used to ascertain the date for Easter.

Out of center cherry blooms outlining a sharp Full Moon in the picture.

Both the April and May Full Moon have a name that alludes to the maturing spring.

©iStockphoto.com/kumikomini

May: Flower Moon

The Full Flower Moon in May depicts every one of the blossoms sprouting in spring.

Local Americans called it Budding Moon, Egg Laying Moon, and Planting Moon. The Anglo-Saxon name is Milk Moon, while the Celtic and Old English names are Mothers' Moon, Bright Moon, Hare Moon, and Grass Moon.

June: Strawberry Moon

June's Full Moon is the Strawberry Moon as the little red berries mature as of now and could be accumulated by the Native American clans. Other local names are Berries Ripen Moon, Green Corn Moon, and Hot Moon.

The Celtic names are Mead Moon, Horse Moon, Dyan Moon, and Rose Moon. Other English names are Flower Moon and Planting Moon.

July: Buck Moon

In July, the Full Moon is called Buck Moon to mean the new tusks that arise on deer buck's brows close to this time. Other Native American clans call it Salmon Moon, Raspberry Moon, and Thunder Moon.

In Celtic, this Moon was known as the Claiming Moon, Wyrt Moon, Herb Moon, and Mead Moon. The Anglo-Saxons called it the Hay Moon.

Admirable: Sturgeon Moon

August has the Full Sturgeon Moon on account of the enormous quantities of Lake Sturgeon in the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain. The fish was fundamental for Native American clans nearby.

0 notes

erikacousland · 5 years ago

Photo

Exit Glacier at Kenai Fjords National Park in Alaska © Nathaniel Gonzales/Alamy Wild and beautiful Alaska

Today on Bing December 2, 2019 Wild and beautiful Alaska In honor of Alaska National Parks Day, we're traveling to Kenai Fjords National Park—home of the awe-inspiring Exit Glacier, seen here. The park sits at the edge of the North Pacific Ocean where frequent winter storms dump the snow that feeds this land of ice. The Harding Icefield crowns the park with at least 38 flowing glaciers—one of which is Exit Glacier. Exit Glacier is known for being one of the most visited of Alaska's glaciers, likely because it’s accessible via the Seward Highway. In mid-November, the road to the glacier closes to cars due to heavy snowfall, so visitors can only get there using snow-friendly transportation like dogsled or cross-country skis.

Kenai Fjords is just one of Alaska's eight national parks, which together boast the nation’s largest glacial system, incredible wildlife viewing, and North America’s tallest peak, Denali. These parks exist in part because of the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act, which President Jimmy Carter signed into law on this day in 1980. It converted massive tracts of Alaskan wilderness into protected land, doubling the size of the entire national park system. For that, we are grateful. Alaska may be cold, but it sure is beautiful and worth protecting.

#Bing

0 notes

harmonywiccan · 6 years ago

Text

Peaceful (Percy Jackson/Marvel Crossover) (Bucky Barnes X OC)

Part Two

Serenity Mortez, daughter of Thanatos, God of Peaceful Death, born 1919 in New York. She was the girlfriend of James Barnes and the best friend of Steven Rogers. On a quest for her father, she disappeared for 70 years, finally being freed by Nico Di Angelo in 2014, she was easily integrated into this time and eventually sent on quests, mostly by Hades or her father.

On yet another quest for her father, she was sent up to Alaska to retrieve the Scythe that was taken during his imprisonment. At that moment Hecate was attacked and the mist fell for a time, leaving SHEILD to find the Scythe and arrested Serenity.

“Sir, we found a 0-8-4. Located in Denali, Alaska. We’ve isolated it and set up the containment unit.” Coulson smirked.

“Description?” He requested, walking into the common area of The Bus.

“A scythe made of pure black metal, it’s almost like it’s absorbing light,” The reporting agent told him, “But the weirdest part of this is the girl. A young woman, late teens- early twenties, golden eyes, took out three of our agents trying to get at it. Said some BS about how we would die if we touched it.”

“Do not touch it. Let me and my team get there, I want to talk to the girl. Alone.”

Earlier: Serenity's POV:

“What the hell?! How could he lose his scythe!?” I cursed as I kept looking down at the icy terrain. I was riding on Mrs. O’Leary, I had asked Percy if I could take her with. Currently, I was freezing my ass off trying to track down my father’s Scythe and cursing at him for losing the damn thing. The giants stripped it from him when he was imprisoned and now I was having to find it while he rounded up all the escaped souls, “Whoa, over there.” The overgrow hound whined, “Mrs. O’Leary, you won’t have to be around it long. I promise, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll see about getting you a stake, or a dozen when we get back to camp.” She started forward, creeping slow but moving.

“Thanks, girlie,” I said as I slid down and walked over. I pulled out my dagger, Καρδιά, the weapon was shoved into a block of ice. I ran my thumb over the blood red ruby in the guard, the knife turning into a charm on my bracelet and pulled out a pair of gloved, grabbing the handle, I began to work the object tree.

“Stop!” I flicked the charm and the dagger materialized in my hand and I faced who it was. A man in a black snowsuit, a gun in hand aimed at me. I started cursing in Greek, my hand up, “Drop the dagger.” I looked at my hand and then to him, “Drop it!” I touched the ruby and the dagger faded out of my hand, “On your knees, Kid.”

“How the hell...” I muttered and compiled out of shock, this man wasn’t a monster, he would have just outright attacked or shied away at the sight of my dagger and my father’s scythe. But he could see through the mist…unless something happened.

He went to cuff my hands and I slammed my elbow into his groin and brought it up to his nose, getting a crunch as it shattered. I took off as a bunch of others, stormed the area. I was grabbed and spun around, slamming my elbow into his sternum before flipping them on to their back. Another grabbed me from behind and I squirmed out and took off before getting arm bared across the chest.

I coughed, going down and was turned over and cuffed before I was dragged off to a large black van and shoved in. I saw a man approach the scythe, “NO! DON’T TOUCH IT, YOU’LL KILL YOURSELF DUMBASS!” I screamed as the door was slammed in my face, I kept shouting at them, but none listened.

Now:

I laughed brightly, hand in hand with another, I couldn’t tell who he was, but I could remember those dark eyes and that smile. He was dressed in an Army uniform, he was a Sargent. He pulled me in and kissed me hard, his hands on my waist, “I’m gonna miss you, Doll.”

"Why-“I was pulled out of the truck, my dream interrupted as I almost face plant in the snow. I gasped and looked around, a whole perimeter was set around the scythe and I looked up seeing two men, a man with a muscular build, brown hair and blue eyes. He had maybe a foot and a half on me. He had on a suit, with a white shirt and a tie, “How the hell are you not frozen?” I asked looking at him.

“You were arrested and just jerked out of a van by the arm and that is what you ask?” The man holding me asked. I smirked and slammed my foot into his knee, bringing him down to his knees and brought my knee up, but was blocked and shoved to the ground, “Feisty.”

“Well, she did take out Garrison and Tilda, managed to evade Townson.” The suit said shrugging, “Come with me, we just want to talk.”

“Tell me no one touched it.” I breathed, closing my eyes.

“Sadly yes, an agent of ours touched the Scythe.” I sighed and was pulled up, “What do you know about it?”

“A lot. It’s my father’s; he and a select few can lay hands on that and not die.” I said pointedly, “I came out to this Gods forsaken land to get it before that happened. But your militia took my ass out before I could.” He nodded and led me over to a folding table, setting me down and taking the cuffs off. I immediately touched the warn metal tag around my neck, finding comfort that it's still there.

“Hot chocolate?” I took some without question, “Now, why can you touch it?” I laughed and pushed the cup away, “Oh, no, drink. You’re practically blue. But I need to know.”

“And I need to live. Not my call.” I said sipping the hot, heavenly tasting liquid. He nodded, “What’s your name?”

“Phil Coulson. That may, who you knee checked, is Grant Ward.” I nodded, “You?”

“Serenity Mortez.” He wrote that down, “And you came out to Denali, Alaska to retrieve that weapon?”

“Yeah. The things we do for family. But listen, there are Asgardians out there, who's to say that other things don’t exist. I mean we have a man flying in an Iron suit, a guy who’s anger issues could rival that of my best friend, who trust me it’s bad. So, what else is there, you know?” I shrugged smiling.

“And they may not have the power to tell us.” I nodded, “Is that what you’re getting at?”

“Bingo. Give the man a cookie.”

“No. NO. She can’t get off like that, Garrison has a broken nose and is missing two teeth, Tilda’s arm is dislocated, and Mikael is dead.” The man who arm barred me stormed over, “What the fuck are you?!”

“PISSED OFF!” I hissed as I stood, “Look, you guys have your job. I have mine. And mine, right now, is getting that scythe out of the hands of dipshit mortals.” I told him and looked at Coulson, “Trust me when I say that you can not keep that here, not without serious problems.”

“And you can’t lie about your identity without problems. Serenity Mortez is dead and has been dead for 70 years. Who are you?” A woman, dressed more casually, with brown hair and eyes slapped a freshly printed paper in front of me, “Who. Are. You?”

“I forgot to point out, there are men, many thoughts died, who really were frozen and were defrosted,” I said smirking.

“So what, you were frozen in ice?”

“No. Not exactly, but I look damn good for my age.” I said grinning as I sipped my drink, “Again, can’t say anything without an okay from the guys above me.” I almost laughed at that but kept quiet. Philly stood up the two others walking off to talk to him as I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander, hoping someone might catch my attention.

“Prayer’s been answered kiddo.” Everything around me seemed to slow down and a man in a suit, with winged shoes appeared, Hermes, it was common, for the most part, so I didn’t let on, “Listen. You can talk freely, for now, the gods up here are scattered due to Hecate letting the mist go due to an attack on her. The mortal world is scrambling for the sense of the matter.” Time resumed around me and he faded as the others approached, setting down.

“While you three were gossiping like high school girls, I had a little chat of my own. What you need to know, only. No other information.” I conceded to them, tapping my nails on the cup, “My name is Serenity Mortez, my mother was mortal, a nurse at a Brooklyn Hospital. The thing was, I was born in 1918, yeah, I told you, I look good for my age.”

“What are you?” Ward asked me.

“My father is Thanatos, the God of Peaceful Death. I’m a Demigod.”

1 note · View note

easytravelpw-blog · 6 years ago

Photo

Full text write on https://easy-travel.pw/10-great-rv-destinations-for-the-summer/magazine/

10 Great RV Destinations for the Summer

01 of 10

Acadia National Park

www.cfwphotography.com/Getty Images

Acadia National Park is a lovely coastal park located on the coast of Maine and a birdwatcher’s paradise. There are plenty of activities for this park, whether it be good old-fashioned hiking and biking, taking a canoe out into the waters, or getting some extreme climbing done. Acadia is a New England wonderland worth exploring.

Acadia suffers from a lack of hookups like many other National Parks. You can stay in certain areas if you’re willing to dry camp but even those are far and few between. Your best bet is to pick a great RV park with facilities and amenities around the Bar Harbor area—you are close to Acadia and get all the fun that Bar Harbor offers as well.

Acadia’s location on the Maine coast makes for some extreme climate patterns. You can try Acadia during the shoulder seasons of spring and fall, but you could find yourself stuck inside not wanting to confront the cold. Summer brings much warmer temperatures, so you can experience Acadia like you want to.

02 of 10

Mount Rainier National Park

Rene Frederick/DigitalVision/Getty Images

Mount Rainier in Washington state is one of a few peaks outside of the Rocky Mountain chain that peaks at over 14,000 feet, making it an excellent destination for those looking for high adventure. Not to mention, it’s cool to hike up an active volcano! If you don’t think you can take on the peak, there is still plenty to do from the rolling meadows of wildflowers to subalpine forest exploration.

There are no RV camping sites with hookups within Mount Rainier National Park, though there are campgrounds that will allow RV dry camping like Cougar Rock and White River. Pick a reliable RV park right outside the grounds as the local area has more to offer than just Mount Rainier, and you’ll get your creature comforts.

Like many high elevation National Parks, the weather can be quite hazardous, and summer is generally the time with the mildest climate. Mount Rainier also erupts in wildflowers in the early summer months, something you need to check out.

03 of 10

Rocky Mountain National Park

Brad McGinley Photography/Moment/Getty Images

Though snow typically stops in Denver around April, it can continue in nearby Rocky Mountain National Park well into the spring, and sometimes into the early parts of summer. Summer, with its better conditions and open trail roads, provides the most comfortable trip to Rocky Mountain National Park, located within a two-drive of Denver. The summer months offer plenty of great hikes, views, and wildlife spotting in this popular destination.

There are plenty of great RV campgrounds in nearby Estes Park or Lyons, Colorado. Try Manor RV Park, outfitted with several amenities for your RV and you. The Estes Park KOA is also a fan-favorite.

04 of 10

Crater Lake National Park

Bruce Shippee/EyeEm/Getty Images

Crater Lake National Park in southern Oregon was formed from the remnants of the destroyed volcano, Mount Mazama. The fifth oldest National Park, Crater Lake’s stunning blue waters draw thousands of visitors every year to look over this intriguing landscape. Visitors can explore the old growth forests, take a scenic drive around the lake, or explore the area through the extensive trail system.

Unlike many of the other national parks, Crater Lake does have some RV grounds with hookups, found in Mazama Campground; reservations go quickly for these spots so make sure you book well in advance. If you’d like to be closer to civilization, you can choose one of the full-service RV parks in the surrounding area.

Crater Lake is an ideal destination for summer due to its weather patterns and elevation. Feet of snowfall on the area almost the entire year. There is usually a small window in July and August where the snow subsides a little, giving sightseers full access to all that Crater Lake offers. No matter what time you decide to go, expect to see snow year-round.

Continue to 5 of 10 below.

05 of 10

The Gulf Coast

Dan Reynolds Photography/Moment/Getty Images

The Gulf Coast is an excellent destination if you’re with kids or with your spouse. If you’re going without children, the Gulf Coast has many options like Biloxi for gambling, or Mobile for some World War II history at the USS Alabama. If you’re with the kids, you can take them to play and splash around in the warm Gulf waters on one of its many sugar-sand beaches.

Popular Gulf Coast destinations include Biloxi, Gulf Shores, Destin, and plenty more. Being a great summertime spot, the Gulf Coast has many great RV parks. Great parks include Henderson Beach State Park in Destin, Florida, Sugar Sands RV Resort in Mobile, Alabama, and Cajun RV Park in Biloxi, Mississippi.

06 of 10

Boundary Waters Canoe Area

Martin Sundberg/Corbis/Getty Images

The Boundary Waters Canoe Area is over one million acres of untouched lakes and forests jutting into the Superior National Forest in Northeastern Minnesota. There are miles of wilderness to explore by foot, bike, and of course, canoe. You can take guided canoe trips or fishing expeditions; the Boundary Waters was made for the real outdoorsman.

There are many RV parks and campgrounds located around the Boundary Waters. Many of them are full service, offering up not only a place to stay but marinas and even guided tours. Just pick the park that has what you want to do. Summer is the ideal time to experience the Boundary Waters as the rest of the seasons are downright cold. You are in the far reaches of Minnesota after all, known for frigid temperatures and regular ice storms. Try summer for mild temperatures and much more pleasant weather.

07 of 10

Central Florida

csfotoimages/iStock Editorial/Getty Images

Central Florida includes Orlando and the surrounding area that’s packed to the brim with summer fun for the whole family. This tourist hot-spot includes family favorites like Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure Orlando, Discovery Cove, SeaWorld, and the legendary Walt Disney World Resort. You can stay in Central Florida for a week and never run out of great activities. If you don’t have kids, there’s plenty of fine dining, golf, and live entertainment to occupy your time.

Orlando and the surrounding area is a road trip hotspot so its outfitted for RVs of all types. Popular campgrounds include Orlando / Lake Whippoorwill KOA and if you want to make the most of your adventure, you can camp inside Walt Disney World park boundaries at the Campsites at Disney’s Fort Wilderness Resort.

08 of 10

Alaska

Michael Melford/The Image Bank/Getty Images

If you’re looking for the ultimate road trip, then there’s nothing more adventurous than RVing to Alaska. Most who RV to Alaska choose to start their adventure from the US Pacific Northwest, Canada or many skip the ride altogether and rent their vehicles directly in Alaska.

The best destinations for RVers include the rugged wilderness of Denali National Park, Glacier Bay National Park, the quirky towns of Alaska’s lower banks like Skagway, the coast for whale-watching, or a trip to the Arctic Circle from Fairbanks. It’s no surprise to anyone that Alaska’s weather is cold, but the summer months provide you the best opportunity to drive through America’s Last Frontier with the least amount of snow and ice. However, it’s most crowded during peak summer season, so go later in the summer after Labor Day if you can. The crowds won’t be as thick, and you will remain in the windows of more pleasant weather.

Continue to 9 of 10 below.

09 of 10

Anaheim, California

Hanna Wiese/EyeEm/Getty Images

Anaheim is the west-coast Orlando and is packed with plenty of great theme and amusement parks for the whole family. Anaheim is close to the original Disneyland and Universal Studios Hollywood, and not too far from Hollywood attractions like Mann’s Chinese Theater and the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Anaheim is a major tourist destination, so there are plenty of great RV parks for any ride or group size. Popular places to stay include the amenity-studded Anaheim RV Park, which provides for shuttles to Walt Disney World, and Anaheim Harbor RV Park where campers brag of their view of nearby Disneyland’s nightly fireworks display.

10 of 10

Yellowstone National Park

Daniel Vine Garcia/Moment/Getty Images

Yellowstone is most crowded during the summer, but it’s also when weather conditions are the most tolerable. The Yellowstone area is cool most of the year – and downright frigid in the winter. You can take advantage of the summer months to visit Yellowstone when the daytime temperatures are pleasant and nighttime temperatures aren’t too chilly.

There’s no doubt that Yellowstone is a popular RVing destination, which means there are plenty of suitable parks and campgrounds. If you want to stay within park boundaries, you can choose Fishing Bridge RV Park, which is the only campground within Yellowstone to offer electric, water, and sewer hookups.

If you’re OK with staying nearby park boundaries, you can choose Yellowstone Grizzly RV Park in West Yellowstone, Montana, or take another route to Yellowstone’s wonders by camping at Ponderosa Campground in Cody, Wyoming.

#travel #airlinetickets #airtickets #cheapairfare #planetickets #travelinsurance #travelquotes #travelblogger #traveller #travelling #travelocity #travelodge #vacation

0 notes

blaggerturnedblogger-blog · 7 years ago

Text

On a fine May day in 2013 I dropped Dom off at Heathrow Airport for his flight to Alaska via Dallas. His latest adventure was a three week ascent of Mount Denali, the tallest and toughest mountain in North America. It has a brutal weather system with snow storms reaching -40C (-40F) which, combined with the altitude and extreme temperatures pose a serious danger to those attempting its summit. 100 climbers having died in the attempt and only around 50% will summit successfully. You’re on a glacier for the entire ascent, and the area is full of crevasses which you could fall down at any time. Carrying such a heavy back pack and sled, one thing’s for sure, if you do go through the ice you’ll fall for a very long way. Plus there are no sherpas, so you’re carrying all your own gear in a 25kg (55lb) rucksack and hauling a 50kg (110lb) sled until it gets too steep. It’s one of the pre-requisites for climbing Everest. I can’t say it sounds like my idea of fun.

“Do you have any dangerous objects in your luggage?” asked the passenger check-in assistant.

“Just an ice axe” replied Dom, thinking that was the least of his problems.

Let me tell you something about Dom. He is early for everything. And when I say early, I mean ridiculously early. On Spice events we would normally arrive an hour ahead of our scheduled time, and we’ve whiled away many an hour sat in a car park in the pouring rain. We’ve attracted more than a few curious looks over the years, I can tell you. Being late is against every fibre in his being, so you can imagine his distress when he was advised that his plane was delayed. Throw in the fact that he had a connecting flight to catch and his anxiety was compounded ten-fold. His delayed plane than sat on the runway for 4 hours, making the rest of the 10 hour journey incredibly fretful. He was mightily relieved when the cabin crew allowed him and a handful of other passengers with connecting flights to disembark ahead of their fellow passengers.

Camping it up

Anyone found the loo roll?

Onwards and upwards

Does my nose look big in this?

Where did I put my socks?

Which direction?

Luxury accommodation

The mess tents

He took his place in the priority queue, while the rest of the travellers joined the normal passport control queue. Then in a scenario you couldn’t make up, the person ahead of him was taken away by the Passport Control Officer to a private room, leaving the passport control desk unattended. Dom was rapidly approaching full meltdown mode. He asked a security guard if he could join the normal queue but was told no, he must stay where he is. Non urgent passengers were now being processed quicker than the urgent passengers. The PCO returned after 15 minutes, with no apology, by which time the non-urgent queue was rapidly reduced, and passengers from other flights were allowed to join it. Eventually Dom gets processed, clears through airport security and frantically hurries off to find his boarding gate.

Have you experienced the airport system at Dallas JFK? I’m convinced it’s bigger than some obscure European countries. Seriously, it has its own train system to ferry you around. It covers more than 26 square miles, there are 165 gates and 5 terminals which are reached by the the Skylink monorail which has a maximum ride time of nine minutes to the farthest points. This allows most passengers to make a connection from any one flight to another in around seven minutes, not including walking time to and from the stations. Dom jumps on the correct carriage. His heart is racing. He still has a plane to catch and he can’t bear to think of the consequences if he misses his flight.

It’s a thumbs up from Dom

Selfie-made man

Taking a break

When you’re travelling, how many times do you check that you have your passport and boarding ticket? If you’re anything like me, it’s every five minutes, but not Dom. He had gone practically all the way round the Skylink and was entering into the terminal building before he checked. He searches his pockets. He can’t find it. He then starts the rummage of the panicked man, checking all the pockets in clothing and rucksack, but he can’t find it, then the cold realisation of truth dawns on him; he’s left it at airport security. How long did it take to get here? 10 minutes on the train. He does the maths, that’s another 20 minutes there and back, and he’s already late.

His blood pressure is now at an all time high. In a time that Linford Christie would have been proud of (Usain Bolt had yet to be invented), he raced across the terminal convincing the security guards at airport security that he’s lost his passport and boarding pass. Luckily, it being an internal flight, the security area was smaller and he knew which desk he’d gone through. The guard was waiting for him, and handing it over says “I presume this is yours?”

Heading towards the summit ridge

Blue skies over Alaska

Sunrise on the main camp

The summit, Mount Denali, Alaska

Back he goes again. Through security, onto the monorail to the departure desk, only to discover his flight is delayed by 5 hours. And breathe. The flight gods were obviously on his side that day. Eventually his plane arrives and he boards his flight. You’d think this would be the end of his woes, but the two men seated in front of him start a fight and are escorted off the plane on landing, whereupon their fight turns into a full-on brawl on the tarmac!

Luckily the trip went well and his return journey passed without incident, until his return to the UK whereupon he was stopped at Customs. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, looking gaunt and haggard he resembled like some kind of drug runner (not that I have personal experience of the like). The Customs Officer went to open his bag, Dom took a step back.

“I’ve been on expedition for three weeks and just summitted Denali, so good luck if you want to open it, I’m going nowhere near it!”

He was waived through.

Aftermath

Finding Denali On a fine May day in 2013 I dropped Dom off at Heathrow Airport for his flight to Alaska via Dallas.

0 notes

raymondgranville-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Snowboarding & Snowshoeing Relevant information-- Washington Trails Organization.

The Therm-a-Rest Route Recruiter Resting Pad is an excellent worth for newbie campers as well as those planning to upgrade off closed-cell froth pads. This storm will definitely boost off the southeast shore as well as create much more snow for the Carolinas on Saturday. A trowel is a critically crucial winter season survival resource, which are going to aid you in digging snow gives in which you could make it through an ice-cold night. No have to worry about storm destroying footwears during your upcoming getaway, this set by Teva are actually made along with an exclusive water-proof suede that will keep your feet safeguarded during a downpour. A winter tornado alert will definitely enter result late Monday night for the majority of the location.

Portable trowel - an extremely significant winter season survival device, which will certainly support you in digging snow caves in which you could make it through a harsh, cool night. Despite some critical remarks on this enthusiastic aim at proposed by International Payment, it is crucial that the European Assemblage as well as EU Member States approve the Winter months Package. The rule encompassing wintertime tires may be complicated, nevertheless, our suggestions are fairly simple. Whether this's an exclusive procession or even rockets present over the vacations or even a much-needed rest from icy temperature levels back home, there are actually many reasons why wintertime is actually a perfect opportunity to go to. Iran is without sufficient property storage centers for its oil and, to allow this to keep pushing crude, has actually counted on its own vessel line to playground excess inventories until this may discover shoppers. Right before the entry to the park turn left, go west for 3.1 miles to where the paved road ends in a bus reverse. Quite popular in summer season, especially when the condition playground camping site is total and also the wind is up on the lake. Making the 4.4-mile expedition to the top from Cadillac Mountain range will position you at the very first location in the United States to view the sunshine growth in the course of cold weather, mentions Kathy Kupper with the National forest Solution. While her daughter is actually along with Hades, Demeter ended up being disheartened and triggered winter season. While Thengar Char looked tranquility on a warm winter months afternoon, the principal opposition articulated through aid firms to Bangladesh's plan is the area's unforgiving weather. The Weather condition Network is knowning as the system Stella as portion of its own winter season tornado calling device. The International Percentage points-out, that the Winter Deal will definitely likewise favorably impact the economic situation: It will certainly create as much as 900,000 additional projects all over the electricity sector, that is going to produce a 190 billion Europeans improve in GDP increases through 2030, this will definitely increase over 170 billion European in added assets all over Europe annually". They are stiffer in comparison to my much older Merrell Norsehund Beta Waterproof Winter Boots; but more importantly, my toes got cool. As the storm actually begin to crank early Tuesday early morning, our team could possess a time frame from 30-40 miles per hour gusts in the city region. Our team commonly disregard time spent in daylight during the course of the cold weather, yet the sunlight's rays also work to increase our mood and also resistance. Why Go: Winter is actually a good time to strike the seashore, particularly a path this well-liked, where you'll possess some periodic solitude. Before there was actually a playground right here, this area was actually Fortress Lawton and also it is thanks to the fort that this large park is readily available to Seattlites which prefer to discover an urban trail. Water resistant snow shoes or even rubber footwears are FINE for quick trips if you're with little ones. But the tag is actually therefore omnipresent that numerous trailblazers really feel the Goose-- as with Uggs, yet another former winter essential"-- is finally prepared. This linked soles to leather uppers without stitching, forging boots that were actually virtually water-resistant. Looking for a snow/ice boot for multiday winter season including sub-zero (here -20 F) temperature trip times. Northernmost Finland is above the Polar circle, so the sunshine performs not rise for a month or more during the course of the winter. Denali Road Lotto victors could find their license to own the park road coincides with an aurora display. This is actually most definitely viable for advanced beginner hikers, and wintertime creates a much less congested, much more pleasurable adventure, claims Vulpis. If you have any sort of inquiries pertaining to where and just how to use bullet journal page ideas (Click At this website), you can call us at our web site. A few other bikini colours are actually sold-out on her website. right here's wishing the winter months initiative functions. United Airlines plans to work restricted tours to and also from Newark, Chicago as well as Washington (Dulles) on Tuesday, March 14, 2017. . A winter months go for a swim aficionado tosses warm water right into cold air in Heihe, Heilongjiang province, China, Dec A winter months wedding event in the stunning Lapland region of Finland is absolutely nothing except magical. Individuals are prompted to get ready for this potential hurricane with needs including grocery stores, batteries and also snowfall elimination products. Our Sight Winter season Playground is actually the metropolitan area of arts and also culture, enjoying its own typical scale and appeal while building a well-balanced as well as maintainable future for all productions. Deliver our team your memories coming from 10 years of Winter months Wonderland and also our team'll share them along with everybody! Select a set of 10 or even 12-point alpinism crampons that match your shoes properly.

0 notes

latashiaelliston-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Sorel Caribou Winter months Boots.

The condition of the atmosphere relative to wind, temperature level, opaqueness, dampness, stress, etc The Winter months Attendee is a play he appointed and also routed on show business prior to adjusting this for the display screen in collaboration with playwright Sharman Macdonald. He mentions that the state's sodium supply goes to 75 per-cent of its capacity as a result of the moderate wintertime. Just don't forget, winter months steering delivers its own set from cautions: the a lot more impressive the disorders, often the much more harmful the roadway, especially when tooling along strange paths. Thanks to Freebies, whether you're planning to stomp with the dirt or down the red carpet, you can easily grab a pair of signature boots with a Timberland promotion code and also conserve big. Check out the Timberland promo codes below for the opportunity to capture a set of shoes or even some stylish garments for a discounted cost. Statewide Travel Restriction essentially Beginning 5AM Tuesday: Guv Malloy has actually authorized a purchase carrying out a state-wide trip restriction beginning at 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday, March 14, 2017. Уже на ЭКСПО 2017, которое пройдет в Астане, сформировалась команда волонтеров в составе 1 FIVE HUNDRED человек, участвовавших в Универсиаде 2017. Because of Winter Storm Stella (yeah, this has a name currently ), the five districts could possibly receive anywhere coming from 12 to 18 inches of snow during eventually. . White frost covers a plant, lighting up in the winter season sun, in Werder, Germany, Dec Just be sure to put on enough sun defense, featuring sun screen lotion and sunglasses; certainly not simply are actually winter season rays sturdy good enough to shed, their reflection in white colored snowfall in fact compounds the toughness, putting snowbirds at also better risk from damage. Santa clam - also a qualified diver - motions at a visitor inside a gigantic aquarium as portion of a Christmas festivity at the Manila Ocean Park. If your treking boots possessed materials like Gore-tex, they will definitely be simply fine. Lincoln Park Zoo: Only mins from downtown Chicago, the zoo is open as well as free of cost 365 days a year. Find Winter Wonderland off above on the Titan Wheel as well as enjoy some online popular music in one of our themed bars. . A team from Quebec police complete during the ice kayak ethnicity at the Quebec Winter Carnival in Quebec Area, Feb He alerted that travelers without verified appointments should not go to New york city's LaGuardia Airport even after the tornado ends and also urged bus tourists to get in touch with their carriers before taking a trip to terminals. But the tag is actually thus ubiquitous that lots of trendsetters feel the Goose-- similar to Uggs, an additional former wintertime must-have"-- is lastly cooked. This hooked up soles to natural leather uppers without stitching, creating shoes that were actually practically water-proof. Looking for a snow/ice shoes for multiday winter consisting of sub-zero (here -20 F) temp traveling times. Northernmost Finland is above the Arctic Circle, so the sunlight performs certainly not climb for a month or even additional in the course of the winter season. Denali Street Lottery champions could find their license to own the playground road coincides with an aurora display. This hurricane will certainly reinforce off the southeast coastline as well as make much more snow for the Carolinas on Saturday. A trowel is actually a seriously crucial winter season survival resource, which will certainly help you in excavating snow gives in which you may survive a bitterly cold night. No must think about rain destroying boots during your upcoming trip, this pair through Teva are actually made with an exclusive water-resistant suede that will definitely keep your feet secured during the course of a downpour. A wintertime tornado warning will certainly enter into effect late Monday evening for a lot of the region. They are actually stiffer than my much older Merrell Norsehund Beta Waterproof Wintertime Boots; however more importantly, my toes acquired cool. As the tornado really start to crank very early Tuesday morning, we may possess a period from 30-40 miles per hour gusts in the city location. Our team frequently forget time invested in sunshine during the cold weather, however the sunlight's rays also operate to boost our state of mind as well as resistance. Why Go: Winter season is a great time to reach the seaside, especially a trail this preferred, where you'll possess some in season reclusiveness. Just before there was actually a playground here, this location was Fortress Lawton and also that is actually with the help of the ft that this large playground is accessible to Seattlites who wish to explore an urban path. If you are actually along with youngsters, water-resistant snowfall boots or maybe rubber shoes are actually ALRIGHT for short outings. And many mores key measures of the Winter season Deal is the renewable resource usage in the transportation field (biofuels, bio-liquids and also biomass gases), and if made from basic food-based biofuels (meals or feed plants), the estimation of each Member State gross last consumption of renewable resource will be actually covered at 7 per-cent from overall energy intake for roadway and also rail make use of by 2020. It's probably that public transportation, in addition to learn and flight, will be actually effected on the time of; we'll maintain you upgraded as the tornado cultivates. Approximately FIFTY thousand folks in the Northeast are under blizzard or even wintertime storm enjoys as an effective Nor'easter creates this method up the coast, potentially bringing whiteout problems as well as up to 2 feet of snow. Outdoors Publication placed Winter season Lodge as one from the leading 10 outdoor ice skating experiences in the US! The Royal Agricultural Winter Exhibition is actually the item from resolve through a handful from productive planters after the First World War. Division from Cleanliness salt sits in a shed, on-line, in New york city on March 12, 2017. Yet another possibility, resources mention, is the Winter season Landscape, though I presume Andrew Lloyd Webber may not desire his hit University from Rock" brought in out fairly therefore swiftly. In the reduced places along the shoreline, the temp just rarely sinks beneath freezing, and winter might look like an extension from the autumn instead of a time from its personal. The Broad Road Line and also Market-Frankford Line are actually best choices for riders throughout extreme winter tornados. If you loved this short article and you would like to obtain extra info with regards to crossfit workouts videos (portalvyziva.info) kindly check out our web site. In 2005, a big maple tree in the playground was attacked by lightning and literally blew up. Throughout winter season in either half, the lower altitude of the Sunlight causes the sunshine to hit that half at an oblique angle. . Artists generate a snow sculpture at a park prior to the annual Snowfall Expo begins in Harbin, resources of northeast China's Heilongjiang Province, Dec Visit South Beach front, FL, this winter season to observe the sexiest sunbathers in the US. Referred to as the 2nd the home of a number of celebs, this Miami hood is actually likewise admired for its hot winter season climate, pastel Fine art Deco architecture, special clubs, hip dress shop hotels and resorts as well as high-end stores. Our experts have loved ones in the region so our company are going to most definitely use this park once more for future gos to. In Southern The golden state, soothsayers who asked for the greatest hurricane in years hack it as file precipitations created alarmingly increasing waters in the area.

0 notes

astarab1aze · 7 months ago

Note

❝ Put your fingers inside of me. ❞ / nali and hydre

Denali's request bade him smirk, and he wondered just where, exactly, he wanted his fingers to go.

Did he want them in the depths of his guts, sliding in and out of his sinews between intestine or lung, or did he want them digging into torn bite marks, holes caused by elongated, reptilian fangs? Or did he want more than that, aroused by the gore of their union, moved by the forked tongue lapping up chill blood rolling down the slope of his hip? Hydre wondered what he'd do if he did as he pleased, if he buried his nose into his pelvis and gnawed on his bones, took him into his mouth and swallowed him whole, as if he were the finest meal and he were nothing more than a gluttinous fiend. He wondered if he'd like it, if his spine would arch and his body would quiver, if he'd cum from even the slightest bit of combined agony and affection. He wondered what he was thinking, how he was feeling, if the bloody fingers easing past his pucker and brushing against his most sensitive of spots and tandem drooling over him had pleased him.

Of course, he knew, but he was allowing this to happen organically, allowing himself to not know, to not answer his own questions, happy - so happy - to push another finger inside and clench his teeth around pelvic bone, panting, hazy sapphire rolling backward in their sockets. Appetite and desire driving him to feel around, dig deeper, hum and groan at the squelch of blood and viscera until at last his fingers found the others, stimulating the prostate from both sides, relishing in the broken buck of Denali's hips and the painfully needy moans escaping him. This was fun, and foul, and oh, how he adored him in this light. How he wanted to see him crumble, fall apart at the seams, for the light to leave his eyes as he ate him, toyed with him, brought him to the precipice of utmost pleasure and torment, suckling on deliciously rotted flesh as if a scavenger and a carcass. Perhaps Denali had been the winner here, in truth - so spoiled by the Worldeater, so beloved and so beheld, as divinely entreated to the only expression of love he could make.

To be a part of him, to course through his veins alongside his ichor, to fill him to the brim with his body and soul, becoming one with him in so violent and true a manner... This was bliss, this was what it meant to capture the attention of an all-devouring divine, to be so desired, so loved as to be eaten, plunged into, fucked all the while. Open-mouthed kisses left above craterous wounds, nose pushing into exposed nerves and shorn muscle, drowning in the essence of Denali's unlife as if the very minute he took a breath, this moment would cease to be. This connection would fall away and fade. The hydra wasn't so sentimental, didn't ascribe so much meaning to so normal a thing, but even he had to admit that this, oh this, he would sorely miss if he carried out his universal purpose - if he destroyed all the world in the Hell of his ice storm. He would go wanting for an eternity, he knew, and he knew it well.

#☿ || Asks.#✘ // Snow in an Ice Storm; Denali.#bedlamology #blood /#nsft /#cannibalism /#gore /#/ he got a lil carried away unu #/ yucky uwu

4 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

From The Ground Up, Chapter One (Rosnali) - Tanawrites

A/N: I’m so happy to be back in the swing of writing again and especially for this ship! I’m not sure how long a ride we’re in for here but I do know none of it would be possible without @chaoticnachokitten who is always the best brainstorming partner.

Summary: It wasn’t ever a choice between figure skating or Rosé; Denali knew she belonged on the ice and Rosé knew it too. So she left and didn’t ever look back. Five years passed and as medals, sponsorships, the Olympics all slipped from her grasp, Denali wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

or, what happens when an ex-professional figure skater returns to her hometown and navigates her way through the grief and uncertainty of her career and considers the road not taken.

read on ao3 here!

The first thing she noticed was the snow.

It had been years since Denali had been home to see the town square covered in a thick layer of white and the sight brought a sour taste to her mouth.

It used to be her favourite time of year when she was younger, before she knew any better. As well as hot cocoa and snowball fights, the first time she ever skated was wearing blue mittens, a knit beanie and watching her breath puff out in front of her in a white cloud of condensation.

For a long time, winter and skating went hand-in-hand for Denali. Every year it was a countdown for snow, waiting until the lake behind her house froze over and became her own personal rink.

It wasn’t until much later when the local ice arena took precedence as classes and daily training moulded her into a professional skate, that Denali realized snow didn’t count for much at all. Hot cocoa didn’t particularly fit into her strict macro-diet and regardless of the weather outside, it was always cold at the rink. The cold lost its magic and the holidays soon followed suit, when Denali prioritised training and competitions over flying home.

That only made it more ironic to her that it was snowing for her reluctant homecoming; the picturesque winterscape of a town that greeted her more mocking than nostalgic.

It wasn’t as comforting as Denali thought it would be, how familiar the town was. The main street was as if nothing had changed, if for a few new storefronts. She knew from her few visits home that if she didn’t look too closely, it looked exactly as it did when she left, further cementing that she was the only factor that had changed. That she was the piece that didn’t fit anymore, not the other way around.

The reminder of why she was home for her first Christmas in years was too much to unpack on the day she moved back to the small town she’d left behind, Denali shied away from any intrusive thoughts and took a detour from the main road.

Following the instructions from her speaker, Denali eventually pulled her car into an unfamiliar driveway, to a house she’d only seen before in pictures and cut the engine.

The front yard was unrecognisable under the snow but the driveway and small path had been shovelled recently, a silent sign her father had been by. The ‘welcome' mat was definitely all her mom though and Denali exhaled a sigh of relief.

She wasn’t sure if her parents were going to respect her request to arrive alone and without fuss so she was grateful to see they’d left her to her own devices, in their own way.

As excited as they were to have their only child back home, a few streets away was a vast improvement than a two-hour drive to the city, Denali couldn’t bring herself to match their enthusiasm. It was less of a joyous homecoming as it was striking out and crawling home, with no need for fanfare.

Her parents had been great but after months of doctors appointments and rehab, Denali felt stifled.

And no doubt, that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

Her parents and her coach had shielded her from the worst of the media while she recovered but the tabloids had nothing on small town gossip, as ruthless as it was rapid. Everyone would know she had moved back by the afternoon, if they didn’t already from when she’d signed her name on the lease and mailed it back weeks ago.

The house was nothing remarkable externally. It was in a newer part of town, an expansion of mostly apartment blocks and small houses, that took place after she’d already moved to the city. It was more modern than her parent’s house but still older compared to the studio loft she’d left behind.

But it was new and entirely her own and held no reminders of the life she’d had to leave behind, which is exactly what Denali needed.

There was a flyer from the moving company who had already been and gone, and she found the key under the mat as well to let herself in.

It was strange, seeing all her furniture in a house she’d never set foot in before but she shook the feeling and wandered between the boxes that were left haphazardly in the rooms that corresponded with her scrawled handwriting.

You’ll feel better when you can see your things, she told herself and set in to unpacking.

Despite the mountains of boxes, Denali got through the kitchen and the living room with ease.

Plates, mugs and cutlery were easy, methodical to find a place for. It was mindless but it kept her hands busy to stretch up on her tiptoes to reach the tallest cupboards and sort tupperware.

Putting away her books and photos required a little more attention, alphabetizing by author and lingering a little too long on the frames of her with her face pressed up against her coach or with the team of skaters she had trained with.

She stubbornly left the pictures on display, to prove a point to herself mostly, adjusting their positions on the side table more than necessary before she moved on. At least they were happy memories.

By the time she was tossing a throw blanket and cushions on the couch, she’d almost forgotten the vague reminder of where she was supposed to be right now. She’d gotten into a groove of unpacking, leaving traces of herself through the house, more than just furniture or decor.

Music played through her headphones as she pushed open the door to the only bedroom in the house, ignoring how tempting her bed looked even unmade.

She was more exhausted than she cared to admit to even herself.

Her knee felt stiff from kneeling in front of boxes for hours and leaving the key behind to her apartment felt a lot less like saying goodbye to the city and a lot like giving up on something she wasn’t ready to, something that was beyond her control. She was pushing through the exhaustion and discomfort, motivated that the more her the new house felt, the easier it would be.

She was eager to get through the brute of the unpacking anyway, knowing she was expected at dinner with her parents that night as a trade-off for her seclusion today and if she admitted to not having much done, tomorrow she’d have both her mom and dad knocking on her door to help.

She reached for the closest box, slicing through the tape and ripping it open. It had only been labeled with her name in somebody else’s neat handwriting and as her eyes caught the glint of the blades dance as it caught the overhead light, she realized why.

Her hands froze over the box, hovering uselessly for a few moments before she flinched back, like she’d been burned.

In her haste, she dropped the pair of scissors she’d used to open the box and bent to pick them up, mumbling a curse to herself under her breath.

Her skates.

Packed neatly on top of her collection of trophies and medallions and even a few sports magazines she’d been featured in, were her current pair of skates. The laces of both skates were tied in a neat bow, guards covering the silver blades.

Somebody else had packed this box, that much she knew. She’d merely shrugged when her mom asked her what she wanted to do with all this stuff and hadn’t waited around to see how that was interpreted.

As she looked at the flawless white leather, she couldn’t help but be bitter. They looked exactly as she remembered, they were perfect and she was pissed. There was no indication that anything had ever happened, completely untarnished. Nothing like the uneven scar across her knee that she’d been promised would fade with time.

Before she could stop herself, Denali reached for the box again, idly toying with the laces.

It had been nearly a year now since the last time she’d worn them.

She’d been a favourite going into the competition and aside from a few pre-competition jitters, Denali was quietly confident.

She knew her routine like the back of her hand and even though it was the qualifying competition, she hadn’t been worried.

She felt that way right up until it happened. She’d been landing her jumps, she was completely on beat with the music, everything was happening the way it was supposed to.

Until it wasn’t.

The last thing anybody was expecting, least of all Denali, was her skate to skim across the ice erratically, beyond her control, her misplaced landing ending with an ear-splitting pop.

Everything had gone silent after that.

She could feel her chest heaving, struggling to catch the breath that was knocked out of her from the impact of hitting the ice but she couldn’t hear a thing.

Not her own sobs, not the all too familiar song she’d practised to for months still playing over the speakers or the gasps of the crowd. Not even the EMTs as they spoke to her while carefully lifting her onto a stretcher, her knee bent awkwardly and swollen through her tights.

In the days following, when doctors approached her with “irreversible damage” and “career-ending injury” which was endlessly repeated by her parents, her coach and worst of all, the media, Denali wished for the silence again.

Now fully recovered, or as recovered as she could ever be, her dreams of gold medals and the Olympics nothing but a faint memory, Denali wanted to scream. She settled for throwing the box into the closet with a loud thump and an even louder slam of the bedroom door as she stormed out.

She grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and was pulling out of the driveway again a few minutes later.

She didn’t know where she was going, definitely not to see her parents but anywhere but here sounded like a good option so she drove.

She drove around town twice before pulling up in the parking lot of the one place she’d purposely avoided on her drive in this morning.

The rink.

The first time Denali skated at the ice arena, she was seven.

After spending years skating on the lake, she begged for proper lessons at the ice rink.

Her eager hands pushed away her father’s helpful grip, demanding to tie the laces of the rental skates herself. They were scuffed and very obviously well-worn before she had insisted on them, instead of her own skates from home.

She’d bounced in excitement waiting by the boards for her turn, the skates feeling comfortable and familiar on her feet which couldn’t be said about the rest of the group in the beginners class.

She had stepped out with shaky balance as she adjusted to the shift onto the ice, shoulders squared in a silent dare that anybody attempt to steady her, her parents or an overly eager instructor who was a few feet away.

It took her two laps around the rink and a near fall before she let go of the barrier, unused to the ice being quite so smooth.

For a few moments, her hand had hovered over the rail, uncertain. When she didn’t falter, she started to laugh. Whole-hearted giggles as she gained speed, her confidence grew when she drifted further away from the perimeter of the rink, arms spread out beside her to keep her balance.

It felt like flying.

At the time, she didn’t notice all the eyes on her. The instructor watched on dubiously, her parents equally as surprised but mostly proud and the group of kids her own age an equal mix of jealousy and wide-eyed awe.

She was seven and she had no idea that this was how she would spend the next fifteen years of her life.

Or, that it would eventually become her downfall.

The outside of the arena, while it remained unchanged since Denali was there last, wasn’t as inviting as she remembered.

In fact, the dull brick building was lacking…something.

Maybe it was just her, and she knew exactly what she was lacking.

She passed by a bored teenager at the front counter who merely waved Denali through, without offering her any rental skates or asking for an admission fee. It was midday in the middle of the week so she hadn’t expected anybody to be on the ice but she didn’t expect it to be that easy.

It initially struck her as odd but she continued through regardless, tightening her thin jacket across her torso. In her haste she’d forgotten her coat and she was already feeling the cold from the ice before she could even see it.

She continued down the hallway, familiar signs and posters lining the way. In the years since she’d trained here, she swore none of them had been updated. The pricing signs, the motivational posters all remained, fraying at the edges the same way they had for a decade.

That was why her own smiling face brought her to a complete stop.

At the end of the hallway, were two side-by-side framed images of her. One was as a child, in her first ever competition in this very rink with a small gold trophy in her hands. The other was more recent, only a few years ago, from the other side of the country. She held a bouquet and stood on the top of the podium, a gold medallion around her neck. There was a plaque that Denali didn’t bother to read but she got the gist.

And now she understood why she’d been let in so easily.

She knew her mom would have definitely provided both photos and before her accident, Denali had no problem being a hometown hero. Being in the limelight whenever she managed a trip home had been welcome, it was a lot easier to be known as a nationally acclaimed athlete who couldn’t get home for the holidays than someone who’d had everything, then lost it all.

Denali breathed out a sigh as she rounded the corner to the rink, comforted at least by the fact that she was alone.

The ice was smooth, like it had been resurfaced only recently and Denali could do nothing but stare as she rested her arms on the boards and leaned forward.

The gleaming white ice wasn’t just pristine. It was tempting.

She’d been cleared for weeks now. Her surgery was considered a success, she had officially made a full recovery. A long, painstaking recovery of regaining the confidence to even stand with any weight on the leg that had collapsed under her and months of rest before that. It was a full recovery nonetheless, unfortunately “full recovery” from a torn ACL didn’t allow for the demands of a professional figure skater.

Laps around the ice didn’t entertain her nearly as much as they did when she was younger so Denali had resigned herself to the fact that she hadn’t just retired from her career, she had retired from the rink completely.

She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to bring herself to put a pair of skates on again, even if she tried.

The ice called to her, it always had but it was more than that.

The competition did too. The more she skated, the more she loved it. The better she got, the harder she worked.

Denali knew early on that she had it. The drive, the ability and the talent but more than any of that, she had the want. She wanted to be the best and to do that, she had to beat the best.

It hadn’t come without sacrifices as well. She never went to her high school prom, she didn’t even walk at her own graduation. She’d given up the majority of her freedom for the entirety of her high school years for the benefit of her sport. She kissed her family goodbye a week after receiving her diploma in the mail, the city closer to her coaches and the airport.

But she didn’t look back.

It was never even a choice for her, never an option between A and B. By the time conversations shifted to Worlds and the Grand Prix and sponsorship deals, Denali knew she wanted to take the gold.

Returning to this rink, knowing that none of that was hers anymore, felt like a cruel twist of fate. She could practically taste the win, and could almost feel the cool touch of the medal against her chest before it disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Her initial rage had faded, re-learning how to walk had forced it, simmered down to a heavy grief.

It wasn’t as easy to bear, the blind rage at least had a release. The shatter of her phone against the brick wall of the hospital, the endurance she pushed herself to test during rehab, a guttural scream when she was finally able to straighten her leg again amongst the happy cheers of her nurses.

The grief crept in slowly, mourning not only her career but her entire life. Skating had woven its way into every crevice of Denali’s everyday and its missing presence was distinct. It wasn’t just about figuring out what she was going to do now, it was figuring out who she was without skating.

Before she did something stupid, like rent a pair of skates or tear the picture of herself down off the wall, Denali turned to leave, figuring it had been enough reminiscing (torture) for one day.

Without even taking a step forward, Denali froze. The sight of someone a few feet in front of her drew her out of her thoughts, apparently too deep in her head to have heard any footsteps behind her.

She didn’t need to do a double-take, she knew who was standing in front of her.

All long legs, a wide smile and auburn hair that Denali had helped dye a pale pink too many times to count, she knew exactly who it was.

“Rosie?”

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #eventual angst #from the ground up #tanawrites #concrit welcome #s13

14 notes · View notes