#Brightest LED torch

[plsupreme]

Light up your adventure with Powerful Led Torch and embrace safety

In today's fast world, where outdoor adventures and unexpected emergencies are a part of our lives, a reliable and powerful LED torch is a dear-to-me tool. It is not just a device. It is a beacon of light that could help you go through the darkness to ensure safety and illuminate your path.

[queenofallwitches]

I FEAR NO FIRE

SALAMANDER SPEAKS THROUGH ME

Tuesday morning, past midnight.

I don't fear fire, I fear the people who fear the fire

I'm my own salvation

I am worthy of my goals, dreams and visions of the future

I will manifest all my purpose in life drives me towards pursuing. My soul will find its fire and once more, the ashes begin to pile from the scraps that settled after the last fire.

The entrails of scorched trails torched in the wake of the flame, the flame roaring. Soaring.

The flames devour. Hungry orange flickers of fury.

Glowing red.

Unable to be contained.

Burning. Brazen. Brilliant.

Flickering in mega monolithic shades of sunset and sunrise hues but bound by the inferno of allegories painted in the stories of hellfire and inferno.

Burning, screaming, howling, people in ego, fire comes to pick up possessions and they aimlessly try to kill natures warrior with a garden hose made of plastic.

The human error, the human created hell set upon the place from where it rose. The earth. Now the fire is here to prove to us who know how it is to burn, be burnt alive, life after life, and we rise to excitement and adoration when fire is venerated. We fear not fire, nor nature.

Those who are averting the burn of the fire of self annihilation are those fire follows. If not metaphorical fire, literal fires spark up awakening. If not that, then, only realising how the life is never ending and the soul lives on, could save suffering; instead; they face nothing but shallow soul devoid placating life that is flat. Society is approving, not the self or the soul of self.

Should we know we are infinite sparks, sunlight sustained beings who began from temperature and matter colliding, time immemorial, beings who are souls that fire or any way to die could kill, then we can no longer be afraid. For one thing that we know, is death is the only certainty.

The other we are born to be told anything, but we all share being born into this world as a common human attribute. We all share the end of life in whatever way as the other. Nothing else can be categorised or defined because it splits us and divides us. Nothing can progress until we as humans together, find a way forward. Not in adversity, but harmony.

Only individual humans journey into the soul, to discovery a spark. That spark becomes the only light as we analyse, define and resign to the presence of that burning drive inside.

We realise over time to follow our spark, creates a feeling that gives us light. The shadows from the valley of death we once knew from our dark night of the soul illuminate.

Our life now depends on pursuing that spark, knowing that each time we temper the spark, by ignoring or going against what the spark wills for us to do, we learn the lesson. But when we follow it, we see a beautiful inferno ignite the social worlds we inhabit, people find this passion we speak with, contagious, and from there, they are ignited to journey on the quest to find what give them light.

For some of us, the brightest ones I was told, once, those who burn the brightest, are deliberately hurt the most.

I am mastering the destruction of what was, to the rebuilding of what will be. Learning no matter how many times my lapse into dark valleys of desolate emotionally draining labyrinth forests that I go through.

I seem to ignite a heat, a warmth, a tiny little sparkle.

The scintillating glistening that whispers in the windless night of no light 'I will guide you on your way".

A fairy, a fantasy, a figment of unreality?

The end result begins the art of alchemy.

Igniting a spark, begins a flame, the flame burns to expose a light, a light trail is eyes able to perceive the way out of the unholy forest of decay.

As I find the fire once more to illuminate shadows.

I see clearly as my fire grows to encompass a ball of flame.

In this flame sphere its showing me what was not seen.

to expose things that led to my transient trip, into what tangled vines, a never ending, timeless, cold, dark, desolate, dread ridden devoid of all feelings of hope, help, promise, happiness or love.

Nothing of positive intonation resides with these Cthulhu wispy warping black ink squids drooling.

Sticky, slug slash tentacle, the bottom of the ocean with no light. Days are the same as the plutonian nights of tendrils siphoning infinite squids sucking the dreams from a sleeping brain, as we wake, wrapped in the remnants of a tendril or ten, tight on the brain.

All we can hear is the howling of burning children over millennia, molech, mammon, black matter sacrificial lambs. The time chunks blown in space and time, only perceived by the rifts in the lack of space and time.

The sounds, the silence, the all and nothing. Is what drives the evil stuck here mad.

They would rather be tormented by the black holes blowing parallel worlds apart, won't matter. If you cannot look inside.

I spent years in self reflection.

I had a lapse because of a bad experience with a loser from the america.

Now I move on!

In the end the inferno leads me into my truth, my passion, purpose, prosperity, progress, positive drive and peace all flow in this blaze, burning bright, crackling the desolate vines that wrap alien concepts by the nature of not of this world, burning, bursting and crackling, bubbling into nothing but void. For void is where it was concocted. Void is where it returns.

I dance, in harmony, hallowed kindred soul merging into the ever growing flames that devour the devoid of soul, transyuggothian, beyond time and space and into the infinite nothingness, filling with fires that are contagious.

outrageously sparking by the will of furious dancing witches from burnt ancestral pain who forge another way out.

We fear nothing, no fire, no flame, no water, no wave, no earthquake, no mountain, no wind or thunder or lightning.

For our souls are ashes to embers, embers to inferno, for centuries, so we become one with the earth, the trees and the leaves. Our souls are oak, granite, stone and lava.

Our lives are not easy. But they are here to be ready, ready to roll with nature; not letting the transient cycles be a cause for fear but a collective faith we can see as a spark that drives a new start.

Start from the ashes and watch the world around you burn.

Those who are too, alike to you, will be there dancing around the fire too.

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 5

Steve felt cold as they went down the tunnel and it had nothing to do with the frigid chill of the coming winter. Dr. Brenner had given him a thin shawl to stave off most of it but it didn't help the lack of warmth within himself.

'Eddie'. It felt like the sudden spark of love had shined and then just as quickly burnt out.

"I think you and Henry will get along", Brenner said. "He's a bit eccentric, like that prince of yours."

"There is no one like Eddie", Steve replied. Was, there was no one like him. It hurt his heart to think of Eddie as in the past. But if he was truly dead....

No, there was no if. Steve had barely survived himself. Eddie was just as small and it was only getting colder. They came to quite a large door, at least compared to their size. It was still much too small for a human.

"How deep underground are we?", Steve asked.

"Several feet."

Brenner opened the door no problem and they entered. Steve was carrying the basket of baked goods on his arm. The door shut with a thud and it was very dark in this hold. Steve heard the sound of movement and then little torches began to light, giving a very dim brightness.

With the last one lit, Steve was able to see their host. A very well dressed naked mole rat sniffed at the air. Then pointed his nose at Steve, then began to move towards him, snuffing at the basket of goodies.

"Who have you brought for me, Dr. Brenner?"

"This is Steve. He's from above ground", Brenner pointed upward.

Henry gave a slight shudder and took a step back from Steve but not far enough in his opinion.

"What a dreadful place. Why anyone would want to make a life there, I've no idea."

"To each their own", Brenner replied noncommittally.

Steve felt extremely out of his depth. He'd been feeling that way since he'd been stolen from his home.

"We didn't come empty handed", Brenner gestured for Steve to hand over the goods and he did. Henry took one and ate as he led them deeper into his home.

"Well, Steve, tell me about yourself. What can you do?", Henry asked.

"What can I do? Um, I can swim and sew a little." He wasn't sure what to say. Did Brenner bring him down here to work for this guy? Was this a job interview.

"He's quite the performer too", the doctor added. "Even got on stage for a while."

Steve frowned. This weasel really did know everything about him. Maybe if he met him first, he could've reunited him with Eddie before he....before he...

"The stage?", Henry's head tilted in what might be interest.

"Why don't you show him Steve?"

Brenner made himself comfortable on a couch and Steve realized he was basically in the center of a sitting room. It was hard to see unless you really focused. Henry was waiting expectantly. Steve didn't feel much like singing. But then came a threshold of emotion where he crossed over. He couldn't stop thinking of Eddie. In this moment, instead of feeling like an unbearable weight on his chest, he felt like he couldn't hold it in anymore and needed to get it out however he could.

Obviously he wasn't going to perform the same thing as what happened in Billy's club. Instead, when he thought of his lost love, he sang a different song.

"Once there was the sun, bright and warm and wonderful. Shining like the love within my heart...."

Eddie had said that night that he was like the sun, a ball of light. Steve thought it was the other way around. Eddie was too dazzling to be anything but the brightest star.

"I don't care much for music", Henry said, stopping his train of thought and ending the song before it could continue.

Steve's shoulders slumped a little. "Winter has taken the sun anyway", he said. And even if spring returned, the warmth never would.

Brenner stood and lit a small lantern. "Henry has quite the taxonomy collection, Steve. Why don't you take a look?" He handed off the lantern and Steve turned to see several insects pinned and framed. While he perused, Brenner stayed back to have a more private conversation.

"What do you think of him?", he asked softly.

"...I could have fun with someone like him", Henry answered.

"It'd take some convincing. He's still thinking of home."

Henry sniffed out what Brenner was here for. "And what would you like in return for this favor?"

"Just a little assistance with my practice. Good help is so hard to find these days."

Henry gazed at Steve, who was finding his collection quite grotesque. "We have a deal."

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

Brenner waited until he had Steve back in his burrow and had locked up for the night to break the news to him.

"MARRIAGE?! What kind of sick brain do you have that makes you think I'd marry that rat?!"

"That rat, is one of the most powerful rodents in the forest. Not to mention a gentleman, well educated-"

"He also pins bugs to the wall!"

"Beetles haven't been entirely friendly with you, have they now?", Brenner pointed out.

"None of those bugs were Billy. I checked." Steve went over to the small vanity in the room and sat on the pin cushion in front of it to sulk. Him, married to a rat he had just met. Unbelievable.

"I think it's a good match", Brenner said. "You've both got something to offer one another."

Steve rolled his eyes. "What's he got? Wrinkles and bad eyes?"

"His bad eyes will keep him from seeing your wrinkles as you get older", Brenner poked him between the eyes where his brow was furrowed. "And besides that, he can offer you protection."

Steve was about to protest when Brenner started to speak again.

"Haven't you been pulled this way and that enough already? First the toads, then that beetle. And it'll only continue to happen if you don't have someone looking out for you."

"I need to go home. That's where I'm safe."

"Henry has many connections. I'm sure there's nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved husband."

Steve felt the room spin at the word 'husband'. Brenner was right about one thing. He had spent way too long being jerked in every direction. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

"I loved Eddie", he said in a soft voice before burying his face in his arms, silent sobs shaking through him.

Brenner put a hand on his shoulder. It was in no way comforting and just reminded him that he had no one but strangers around him.

"Look at where chasing love has gotten you, Steve. It's time to be practical."

If he married Henry, he would probably never go above ground again. Never see his mother, or the sun again. Or Dustin. If he refused, he could be spending his entire life searching for home. What would be next? A lusty snake? An amorous squirrel?

"We'll start the preparations immediately", Brenner said as he moved away, taking Steve's lack of response as a positive.

Steve didn't argue this time. What did it matter? Who was he saving himself for if Eddie was gone? He had loved and lost. Now there was nothing for him. So if some rat wanted to marry him, why resist?

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

Word of Henry Creel's betrothal traveled quick and that set Billy and Tommy alight.

"Sounds like we've got a wedding to crash", Billy smirked.

"What do we do with him?", Tommy jerked a thumb at Eddie, still frozen in a block of ice.

"Leave him. He ain't goin' nowhere."

The two of them walked off, on a mission it seemed, leaving the fairy prince alone by a tree stump.

It just so happened that a small bird had been watching from atop a branch.

"I knew I'd find him. Steve owes me for this one." He flew down and only slipped a little bit as he landed on the ice cube. He pecked at it, finding the ice very solid.

"You're gonna owe me too it looks like." Dustin began to gather some small twigs. He had a fire to make and a prince-sicle to melt, then a wedding to stop.

Part 7 (FINAL)

A/N: no disrespect to naked mole rats this is a Rufus stan account that's just the best animal i could think of. also Marry the Mole is a good song! there i said it!

Tag Team

@telidina

@novelnovella

@ajeff855

@mars-the-witch

@ceejay-955

@punctualhowell

@child-of-cthulu

@estrellami-1

@cupcakesnwhiskey

@spectrum-spectre

@just-a-tiny-void

[tos1701voy74656tmnt2012-cc]

FabFiveFeb Week 2

I was surprised myself by how quickly I came up with this. But since it's Gordon's birthday on Valentine's (somehow - thank you @squiddo-kiddo for the heads up) I thought I'd write something. So here it is.

EDIT: I forgot to say this earlier: in this fic Gordon is 11, making Alan 9 and the two older brothers in their late teens.

*****

Treasure Island

“Gordo, you sure about this?” asked a worried Alan as his older brother led the way through the cave with a flashlight in hand. It was supposedly one of the brightest you could buy nowadays, and yet the floodlight-like dispersal still failed to fully penetrate the eerie darkness of the cave.

“Don’t be such a baby, Alan. Of course it’s safe. What could possibly go wrong?” Alan’s comment failed to wipe the wide grin off Gordon’s face. His sandals made a quiet splash as he treaded through a puddle with Alan close behind him. The waters below flowed soundlessly through the cavern, appearing murky black even despite the lack of pollution in these parts.

“I don’t know about this,” Alan continued nervously. The diving kit Gordon had made him carry for him sank his left shoulder as they tiptoed as quietly as possible on the seawater-drowned rock.

Dad wouldn’t have approved. Neither would Scott—or either of his other older brothers, come to think of it. But when Gordon had dragged him out of bed early this morning, he hadn’t had much of a choice but to go on a crazy adventure resembling something out of Enid Blyton’s Treasure Island. Dad was sure to be out for most of today, but Scott was sure to be looking for them by now. Not to mention Virg.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s anything here.” Gordon waved the light around, illuminating the dark eroded boulders overhead.

“Then let’s go,” replied Alan, tugging the sleeve of his brother’s T-shirt. He turned around hastily, and a scream nearly deafened Gordon when it reached his ears. Alan was clutching his arm, and he directed the torch to the head of the unidentified figure with a frown.

“Virgil?” He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light before Gordon had the sense to lower it. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just about to ask you the same question. You don’t know it’s safe down here,” said the taller teenager with a stern look. Gordon held his ground, though he was already unsettled by his brother’s bushy eyebrows that were tightly crinkled.

“Come on…trust me, there’s nothing to worry about. But don’t tell Scott,” he added quickly, “or John. Or Dad,” he said with a hushed tone. Virgil ignored his plea, his eyes instead directed to the small kit that Alan was still holding onto.

“Anyway…” Gordon decided to ignore Virgil, taking the diving kit from his little brother. He took out his goggles and rebreather, and put the gear on.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” came Virgil’s muffled exasperated remark. Gordon toed off his sandals, and taking a deep breath, he dived into the icy water.

It was February. Arguably not a great month for swimming in the ocean, but that never posed a challenge for the Squid Kid. The ocean was his playground, the corals his home. Corals. He switched on his headlight, the weak beam piercing through the heavy waters beneath Tracy Island. Everything was as dark as it had been above, until he spotted a familiar structure, colourful, blooming with life.

Corals!

He swam closer still, the small polyps waving in the soft currents. He smiled at the sight. But only a second later he realised what that meant. Corals meant sunlight. And sunlight meant he was no longer underneath the Island.

But he wasn’t ready to go back just yet.

He cruised past the corals, his thoughtful gaze caressing the colourful fingers protruding from the seabed. What a way to spend his birthday—only to have his brothers give him a good scolding when he got back. Not that it mattered, because they wouldn’t have agreed to let him go on a Pendergast exploration trip anyway, even if he asked nicely.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been before he reached the end of the small reef, and decided that it was time to go back. Everyone would be up by now, and probably looking for him as well as Alan.

He made it to the surface to find, just as he had expected, he was now in the middle of nowhere. Tracy Island was but a green dot in the distance, but fortunately he was in a good mood for swimming.

Scott Tracy stood on the cliff, his arms crossed. A sizeable bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, a side effect of the morning run he’d just had, his shirt partially soaked. He should have gone in to get a shower and clean up, but he was waiting for someone. Since Virgil had woken up and decided Gordon had gone on a solo adventure, he knew he was going to greet his maverick little brother personally and give him a good piece of his mind.

Gradually a murky yellow dot appeared in his view, growing larger to become a small boy with a golden mop for hair. Gordon reached the shore below him, greeting him with one of his mischievous, guilty grins. “Hey, Scotty…” He reached up to scratch his wet hair, his eldest brother showing no mercy in his stare. Gordon inched towards him warily, fully aware that this friendly Alsatian was about to turn into a wolf after his blood.

“Gordon, what did we tell you about going around exploring the Island like that?” Scott said simply. Gordon squeezed an awkward smile.

“That it’s dangerous?”

“Yep.” Scott said no more, hoping the boy would understand his meaning. He probably did, but pretended not to. He held the look for a second more before it collapsed into a petulant frown.

“Come on, Scott, none of you would’ve let me go down there anyway! You guys are no fun—and I can’t stand that,” he moaned, raising an eyebrow of his brother’s.

“You know why that is. And it’s not like you found a trough of treasure down there,” Scott said, standing firm. “But since it’s your birthday, I might just let this one slide.” His look softened, and Gordon’s eyes lit up in excitement.

“Really, Scott? That’s amazing!” Gordon sprang towards his brother, where he was greeted with a headlock from Scott that almost strangled the much smaller boy. He looked up with a dubious look to see that big brother was smiling.

“Happy birthday, Gordon.”

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Heist pt. 11

A Lovely Place To Be

Draco and Theo stared down at the cross on his desk.

Silent tension hung in the air around them as they studied the small item.

“Why, again, did we take that thing?” Ginny was strewn about the couch, nestled between the legs of her husband, who had nodded off.

“Because we had to take something to throw them off the fact that we had taken the Wand.” Theo murmured as he pulled away from the desk. He eyed Draco. “What do you think its worth?”

Draco shrugged and lifted a hand to summon a box of crackers from the kitchen.

“Granger said it is Invaluable.” He pulled out a grain covered cracker and grimaced when he realized that he really should pair this with some sort of dip. Hummus, perhaps.

“Where is Aunt Hermione?” Teddy asked from his corner of the room. He slouched, as if on some sort of self-mandated time-out and looked terribly sullen as he slid to the floor.

“She’s hiding the Wand until Zabini meets with us.”

Seamus was stretched out on the arm chair, sulking, as he was disappointed that he was unable to use his EMP’s. Plus, apparently, he had really counted on blowing something up.

Draco didn’t have any hummus, and so he continued to snack on the crackers as he obsered the group around him.

Theo was pacing the room, which Draco found was quite normal, when Granger wasn’t in it. Draco also found that it was normal of him to crave her like he did candy. He recalled the sweet tangerine scent that filled his nose when he pressed his lips to the soft, warm skin of her temple.

He should have kissed her, fully on the lips, but there was apart of him that was apprehensive. Because she was Granger, first of all. The Brightest Witch and all that. But more than that, she was difficult to pin down.

There was a side of him that knew she would reciprocate the kiss, perhaps even fall into it completely. But the other side knew that she held a bit of a torch for Theo, and even that wasn’t enough to get her to settle into any serious relationship.

Draco wouldn’t, per say, call himself the serious relationship sort of wizard. He had only been in a handful of relationships. He dated Pansy back in school, but after Astoria, the dating pool consisted of a small variety, as the wizarding community was small. So he had dated muggle women, here and there. Most of them hated his secretive nature. He couldn’t just brandish his wand or send owls when he was around them. Eventually, they had given up on him.

He had never minded.

But Granger...she was different. She was not the witch he had assumed for those torturous school years. He hadn’t, once, considered that she may be someone to even befriend him. Much less date him.

But Theo had seemed to know. Had sought her out.

Draco had been munching furiously on his crackers but swallowed his bite and looked up at Theo. “When did you first run into Granger after school?” When had they crossed paths and how had that led Theo to ask her out?

Theo stalled and looked over his shoulder at Draco, his hands clasped behind his back. “I saw her having lunch with Weasley.”

“Ron?” Ginny inquired, an eyebrow raised.

He nodded. “They were out on the terrace of a Muggle restaurant in Wiltshire.”

Ginny hummed, interested.

“You crashed their lunch?” Draco pulled out another cracker, still wishing he had a tub of hummus. Or salsa would work.

“No.” Theo scoffed. “I waited until Weasley excused himself to use the loo.” He sniffed and Draco chuckled. “She looked sad while they were talking.” He shrugged and continued pacing. “I asked her to ditch Ginger and come with me to grab a pint.”

“And she agreed?”

Theo opened his mouth then closed it. “No, but after their lunch, I followed her.”

“Stalker.” Ginny scoffed.

Teddy looked less sullen as he listened, looking more and more intrigued.

“She looked sad.” He said again, his eyes narrowing in on Ginny, as if that clearly explained his actions.

Seamus was grinning and shaking his head.

“Anyway,” He spun on his heel and paced the length of the floor again. “As it turns out, she wasn’t just out for lunch that day.” The corners of Theo’s mouth lifted and he nodded to Draco. “That is the day she took your swan.”

Draco’s laugh erupted without restraint.

“She robbed my parents home and you were there?”

“I didn’t go inside.” Theo grinned, shaking his head. “I waited for her outside and that’s when I asked her out.”

He would have done the same thing. He would have fallen in love with Granger the second he saw her sneaking the item into her bag, taking it out of spite. For what, he didn’t know. What had happened with Weasley, that had caused her to comfort herself by stealing from the Malfoy’s.

“Oh, I remember that day.” Ginny suddenly sat up straight, her elbow digging into Harry’s groin. The poor bloke grunted and shot up, now very wide awake. But Ginny was frowning. “That’s the day he met with her, to tell him that he was marrying Katie, who had just found out she was pregnant with his baby.”

“Oh fuck.” Harry gasped.

“Ronald Weasley and Katie Bell had a shotgun wedding?” Draco was shocked. He knew that Granger and Weasley hadn’t worked out, the entire wizarding world knew when the Prophet published the article on his and Katie’s engagement. But he didn’t recall reading anything about a pregnancy.

Draco never quite understood the pairing, Granger and Weasley, but it had been accepted as fact. She was brilliant, obviously, and he was...well, he was not Draco’s favorite person. But all of the hatred he once held for others had faded into an echo of shame he tied to his past.

“Ron and Hermione had been off and on for years.” Harry said around a yawn. “It was rather heartbreaking. But I think she always kind of held onto the idea of them ending up together.”

Which is why she never did serious, Draco realized with a jolt of resentment.

Theo scowled at the idea, clearly sympathizing with Draco.

“It caused a bit of a rift for a while.” Ginny added, and summoned a cracker from Draco’s fingers. He glared at her. But she didn’t react, she popped the cracker into her mouth and chewed. “Because ‘Mione was always supposed to be part of the family. We all considered her family. She has none of her own, now, what with the obliviating. Then there’s the whole child bearing thing and all that.”

Draco and Theo froze.

“Gin,” Harry protested, but she kept rambling.

“I mean, Harry considers her a sister and she’s my best friend but you know,” She looked at Theo and Draco, thoughtfully. “She did start to cheer up around the time you two started conspiring together.“ She said to Theo but settled her gaze on Draco, meaningfully. “And I’ve never seen her happier than she is since the start of this little cohort you three have.”

“So, Aunt Hermione is happy because she’s a bonified thief.” Teddy said, clearly missing his aunts meaning.

Theo snorted but he looked at Draco and the two shared a look. A look that told them that however they moved forward, it would be carefully and for Draco, that mean, possibly never letting her go.

“TMI, Ginny.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“What? What does that mean?”

Harry sighed and shook his head.

The door to the study opened and Granger was breathless as she entered.

Draco set his box of crackers down. She had changed into a casual white tee that was tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Draco and Theo had dressed back into their usual clothes, but Draco had loosened the tie around his neck, the colar of his white Oxford unbuttoned.

Her eyes were lit with an thrilling sort of fire, her skin practically glowing, as she held up a hand. “It’s safe and sound.” She froze as everyone in the room stared at her. Draco felt a bit of shame for learning her story without her permission. For it should have been her that told her of her secret pains and heartaches.

He decided, then, that he would tell her all of his instead.

But for the moment, he forced a smile and plucked a cracker from the box. “Lovely.” He bit into the cracker and the momentary glimpse of hesitation in her eyes cleared. She grinned at him and headed for her favorite spot on the corner of his desk.

“What do you think about that cross?” Theo quickly asked, moving to his preferred corner.

“It’s the Trumpington Cross!” She said it as if she had been holding that bit of information in, nearly exploding with the desire to share with them. “It was found in a bed burial site outside of Cambridge with the remains of a young girl. Apparently, these type of burial bed sites are quite rare and this,” She gestured down to the artifact, encased in a preservation charm Draco had put on it. “Was laid to rest with her. They think she might have been one of the earliest converts to Christianity in England. That would make that burial site one of the oldest Anglo-Saxon Christian burial sites in all of Britain!”

Draco listened to her with a smile as he munched on his crackers and she continued to ramble on about all of the information she had managed to devour on the item.

Draco’s gaze flicked to Theo, who was staring at her with something soft and pained in his eyes. Nobody stopped her from talking. Harry fell back asleep while Ginny began to nestle into her husband like she was listening to a bed-time story.

Teddy’s eyes were growing heavy, glazing over with fatigue.

Seamus was quietly transfiguring his chair into a twin sized bed.

Draco didn’t feel the least bit tired as he listened to her. He offered the box of crackers to her and she shook her head and stopped talking.

“No thank you, but you know what I am in the mood for?” She glanced over at Theo who’s expression had brightened.

“What is that?” Draco set the box down and leaned back in his chair, glancing at the clock. It was almost four in the morning.

“Breakfast.”

Theo pushed off the desk and gestured toward the door of the study. “Draco has a kitchen and I make excellent crepes.”

Draco stood from his chair and stretched. “I make a mean cup of coffee.”

“I’ll make a fruit salad.” She hopped off his desk and waited for Draco to round his desk.

They looked around the study to find Teddy, Seamus and both Potters sleeping.

Granger snorted and Theo threw his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at Draco, expectantly.

He smiled down at her and took her hand into his. They lead her out of the study and into the kitchen on the other side of the house.

“You know,” Draco drawled as they walked the short halls that led them to the dining room. “You never did finish telling us about Amsterdam.” He lifted her hand to gaze down at her little fingers, still wishing very much, to nibble on one.

She elbowed Theo who grunted with a laugh. “I suppose Draco deserves to know how we ended up in our knickers, dancing for a group of Russian goons.”

“Oh my.” Draco grinned as he pushed the kitchen door open.

Theo pulled away and began to rummage through the pantry for the ingredients for his famous crepes. Which, Draco had to admit, were quite good.

“Please tell me how Theo managed to get you in your knickers.” Draco pleaded. “You know, for research purposes.”

She snorted and watched as he took her hand in both of his. His left hand began to traces the length of her fingers while his right hand held her palm flat against his.

“I couldn’t stupefy them all at the same time and I was afraid that if I had tried to start with one, the others would shoot me and Theo before I got to the next.” She frowned. “Guns are rather quick, despite the advantage magic can have.”

Theo began to divide flour and sugar and milk. “She started to ramble at them and somehow,” Theo shook his head. “She convinced them that we were there for their entertainment.”

“Entertainment?” Draco lifted her index finger to his mouth. He nipped it gently.

She swallowed and when she replied, her voice was low and warm. “Strippers.”

He chuckled and lowered her hand but didn’t release it from his hold. He pulled her to the counter where he kept the coffee maker. He tapped his wand to the machine and it began to grind coffee beans.

“That is...” He considered her. “Fascinating.”

“It was incredibly humiliating.” She leaned her hip against the counter, hand still in his.

“I was already down to my knickers.” Theo reminded Draco. “So, Granger had to get started and dragged it out.”

“They ended up getting us drunk on Vodka and chained us to a pipe in the warehouse.”

“For how long?” Draco tapped his machine again, and coffee began to brew.

Granger turned away, pulling her hand from his as she moved to the icebox.

“Until they all passed out, drunk.”

“We had to accio our wands from the table they left them on and, being quite drunk ourselves, wondered the streets of Amsterdam.”

“And that’s about all we remember.” Theo was already whisking the mix, by hand. “Next thing we knew, we woke up in a lavish hotel room, naked and together in bed.” He grinned broadly over at them, rather proud of himself.

“On opposite sides of the bed.” She amended.

“Still, there is no proof we did or didn’t sleep together and so we made a pact.”

“To never bring it up again.” Granger said, pointedly.

Draco shook his head, chuckling. “Why don’t you just use a pensieve?”

Theo and Granger shared a look and shook their heads. “I think we’d like the mystery.” Theo shrugged and she nodded, pulling out cantaloupe and grapes.

“Its the day I decided to tell him about Flamel. It was when we started to work on all of this.”

“And now you here.”

Draco helped her carry the fruit over to the kitchen island.

She smiled at him and nodded. “And now I’m here.”

She truly was lovely as she said those words with pride and maybe a bit of a sense of wonder.

“And how does it feel, Granger?” He leaned his elbows onto the counter as he watched her begin to work on the cantaloupe. “To have the two of us wrapped around your little finger? Two sons of horrible pureblood bigots?”

She paused and tilted her head as she looked at him. “I don’t care who your fathers are, Draco. Do you?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Not for a long time, love.”

Theo turned the flame on the stove and sang, “Here, here!”

[rosemaidenvixen]

Algea

Chapter 3

<Previous Next>

Ao3

With the sun sitting low on the horizon the already wane light that trickled through the canyon into the narrow castle windows gave way to near complete darkness. The only thing holding the gloom at bay was the flickering torches lining the walls. New recruits often described the mood set by this lighting as ‘creepy’.

But Kikimora, who’d spent nearly her entire adult life in these halls, was utterly unbothered by it. Striding down the wide corridor with practiced grace, comfortable in her element. But not relaxed, in the castle walls relaxing more often than not led to finding a dagger in your back.

Through the years Kikimora had seen others rise and fall through the ranks of the Emperor’s coven, not all but more than a few of them she’d even had a hand in pushing part of the way down. Still she remained and they did not, and that fact was owed mostly due to her own ambition and cunning.

As well as a few carefully brokered alliances.

A pair of scouts nodded in greeting as Kikimora strode through the wide door leading to the office of the Minister of Communications, but she didn’t so much as turn her head.

In the Emperor’s coven it wasn’t enough to be the best and brightest, Lilith Clawthorne’s fate was a testament to that. More than smart you had to be ruthless, ferreting out your competitors’ hidden weaknesses and using them against them. Setting up their downfall before you ever faced them in combat.

Approaching a wide desk in the center of the room she didn’t even bother announcing her presence.

“Anything interesting today?”

To his credit Vernworth didn’t so much as flinch, not even glancing up from the various screens at his desk as he gave a derisive snort “Hardly, just more pictures of baby ratworms,”

While she betrayed no outward reaction Kikimora felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t trust Vernworth, no doubt nor did he her. But their arrangement of exchanging secrets and blackmail material on other high ranking coven officials was one where if he told her there was nothing she believed him. Still, Kikimora hadn’t gotten to where she was by not being thorough. 

And as the Emperor’s humble left hand, Kikimora had no greater competition than his golden right.

“What about our esteemed Golden Guard?”

Adrian rolled his eyes “Hardly, just typical spoiled brat stuff,”

“Oh?” Kikimora leaned forward, peeking up at his screens “What kind of stuff?”

“Titan I don’t know why you’re so fixed on him,” Vernworth mumbled, but nevertheless tapped a scroll a few times before pushing it across the desk towards her “Here, it’s all over Penstagram, I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen it yet,”

Kikimora eagerly grabbed the scroll only to freeze when she saw the picture pulled up. 

As quickly as she could Kikimora sent the post to herself, replaced the scroll on the desk, and hurried towards the door.

“Umm you’re welcome!” Vernworth called after her sarcastically but she hardly noticed. Practically vibrating with excitement as she stared down at the picture in her hands.

The post was of a picture of two young witches swimming in a lake up to their shoulders in water, looking at each other and smiling. She had no idea who the dark haired witch was, but the other one, unmasked but clearly recognizable, was Hunter himself.

The caption was something derogatory towards the other witch but Kikimra couldn’t care less. Here was proof that the Emperor’s so-called right hand man didn’t value duty nearly as much as he claimed he did if he would abandon his post to–

Kikimora staggered to a stop in the middle of the hall, not even bothering to step to the side as she hurriedly started searching through Penstagram.

If Hunter had had a ‘dalliance’ with the brat in the photo once, who’s to say he hadn’t done it before? And just maybe…

Through backtracking she found the profile of the other witch in the photo, from there it was a bit trickier, as most of her photos had been set private. But few things were beyond the reach of the Emperor’s official assistant, and after a thorough search Kikimora struck gold.

A series of photos showing the dark haired witch and others, Hunter alongside them, dressed in sports gear and practicing their game, all stamped with the specific dates and times the photos were taken, which could be corroborated with times that Hunter was supposed to be on missions. All of them linked to a profile whose grainy photo and poor quality pseudonym did nothing to conceal the fact it belonged to Hunter himself.

A glee so potent it bordered on drunkenness shot through her, quivering with delight from head to toe. It took everything she had to not burst into triumphant laughter right then and there.

Oh this was good. Proof that the Golden Guard wasn’t the perfect little obedient soldier he pretended to be. Setting up an unauthorized Penstagram account, fraternizing with civilians when he was on duty, perhaps going a bit further than fraternization with one of them. In any case as soon as the Emperor saw these the Golden Guard was finished.

Forcing back her mirth and swallowing back her giggles, Kikimora carefully recomposed herself into the calm, professional Emperor’s assistant. Pulling in a deep breath and demurely folding her hands in front of her as she continued down the hall towards her destination.

Few were ever allowed into the Emperor’s private workshop, much less without an appointment or explicit summons, but Kikimora was among the elite few who could arrive here without notice and be heard out instead of reprimanded. It was further than she would have liked, situated in the very bowels of the castle. But what was a little walk when her ultimate triumph was within reach?

Eventually she reached the Emperor’s workshop, a tall metal door at the end of a hall that was gloomy even by the castle’s standards, flanked on either side by a pair of scouts. The scouts knew better than to impede her progress, merely opening the door and announcing her presence before stepping back. Allowing Kikimora to stride between them into the room ahead, the door swinging shut behind her, cutting off the already dim light of the hall and leaving her in the deeper gloom of the workshop. Despite the sudden darkness, Kikimora didn’t allow her perfect posture to so much as slip as she stepped through the dark room and approached the workbench, where the Emperor himself sat tinkering with his staff.

“What is it Kikimora?” Belos’s voice echoed out from behind his mask, startlingly loud in the quiet room “I presume you would only interrupt my limited leisure time for a matter of the most dire importance,”

Kikimora was far too experienced to flinch at that, but she allowed herself to discreetly pull in a deep breath. Had to step carefully now, her information might be good but it had to be applied correctly or else all her careful planning would be for naught. 

“I’m afraid I come with unfortunate news regarding your nephew,” she made sure her voice came out sincere, betraying none of the vindication she felt.

“Oh?” the infection in Belos’ voice was subtle but it was there, setting aside his staff and tools and turning to face her fully.

She kneeled down and held out her scroll, damning photos already pulled up. Submissively lowering her gaze as Belos reached out and accepted it.

 “I have discovered that young Hunter neglects his duties to spend time with commoners,” she kept her gaze cast down while gesturing up to her scroll in Belos’ hand “The proof is in your hands, I suspect he might even be engaged in an affair with one of them,”

She fell silent and took half a step back, still not raising her eyes, as Belos examined her scroll. With his mask in place she couldn’t see Belos’ expression, but she kept a careful watch of his every motion. One arm raising the scroll to his face, the other shifting as he swiped through the photos–

Abruptly all movement stopped, Belos sitting completely motionless in his chair as he stared down at her scroll. 

The frozen silence went on for so long that Kikimora had to fight the urge to squirm. Dread starting to seep into the back of her mind that she may have just made a horrible mistake– 

A loud snap echoed through the room, breaking the silence and making Kikimora flinch back in surprise.

Her scroll clattered to the floor in jagged pieces, some still trapped in the Emperor’s claw like grip, black sludge dripping out from between the cracks in his gauntlets as his hand shook–

A breath caught in her throat.

But not with the pain from his curse, she realized, with rage.

The chair was shoved away from the bench with a shriek, clattering to the floor as Emperor Belos snatched up his staff and swept out of the room. A rustle of his cloak and a slamming door and just like that Kikimora was alone, still kneeling there on the cold floor with only the shattered scroll and upturned stool for company.

For a moment she remained where she was. When it became clear Emperor Belos wasn’t returning she slowly rose to her feet. Hesitating only slightly, Kikimora approached the workbench and righted the stool before leaning down and gathering up the pieces of her scroll. She disposed of the pieces in the nearest waste bin, along with the rag she’d used to wipe up stray drops of sludge. Only when she was certain that all traces of the Emperor’s outburst were erased did she turn and depart the room. Willing her breathing to be deep and steady as she made her way down the hall, going over the events that had just transpired in her head. 

Belos was furious, that much was clear, but not with her. If it had been Kikimora he was enraged with it wouldn’t be the scroll lying on the floor in pieces. Which meant that the target of his fury could only be Hunter.

She had to hold back a snicker as she turned and headed back to her own quarters. Elated in her success at reducing the Golden Guard’s favor in the Emperor’s eyes.

Oh Belos must be absolutely furious with his nephew. No doubt he’d demote Hunter for sure. Maybe even have him flogged–

Her steps faltered, composure cracking for the first time tonight.

There was a chance that Belos would have Hunter flogged, but retain his rank. And while she certainly wouldn’t mind seeing that golden brat get knocked down a peg, what good was it if it didn’t put her further ahead?

There was no telling what kind of punishment Belos would dole out, but if she had to pick between flogging and demotion Kikimora would much prefer the demotion. That would give her the opportunity she needed to rise up in the hierarchy. 

“Everything ok ma’am?” one of the scouts spoke up.

Kikimora shook her head “Y– yes I’m fine,” picking herself up and continuing on her way. Shrugging off the momentary bout of nerves and leaning back into her triumph.

There was no way this would fail, her information had been too good and Belos had been far too angry. Her scheme would succeed and she would soon surpass Hunter in the Emperor’s eyes, Belos may even make her the Golden Guard…

This time she let a tiny laugh escape her, walking through the hall buzzing with the thrill of victory.

[sonicasura]

Narkarkos Mer!Leon

Here are some headcanons for my Leon Scott Kennedy merman. The design is taking some extra time since any time at home is sporadic and I rather not break the page rushing. Anyway, let's get started.

Leon is a natural born Mer who just accidentally got entangled in human society. Narkarkos merfolk start off really small, like the size of peach. A biological adaptation to avoid getting detected or reached by potential threats such as people. This goes for both normal and Leviathans so age is the only way to tell the difference.

If a mer completely dries, then they take the form of their non-aqueous half. Leon was found by the Kennedy family as a two year old. His inhuman status kept secret by his mother until her death. Then his foster family took on the torch.

Collecting bones is a natural instinct for Narkarkos merfolk. Leon stockpiled tons of them before he made himself a nest and still collects. Although infected bones are disinfected in broiling solution as any contaminates are a huge no-no.

Narkarkos merfolk mate for life so a potential partner for Leon is taken very very seriously. Courting is a mix between peacocking and bowerbirds. They gift potential mates their favorite treasures specifically bones so expect a ring to have a bit marrow in its composition. Narkarkos merfolk also perform a unique dance under water with the spots on their body glowing the brightest to woo a potential mate.

Leon's species have a infamous reputation of being ecosystem destroyers if left unchecked or angered. Something that has led Narkarkos Merfolk to become exiled to the depths and even extermination on sight. It's quite rare to find any in the wild.

This viewpoint stems from incorrect information and fearful prejudice as any creature outside the species is potential prey. Extreme hostility is another factor as Narkarkos Mers will devastate anything that harms their mate or congealment/family. An entire civilization mysteriously disappearing is often contributed to attacks from this species.

Leon had to be very careful in areas such as Raccoon City Sewers since enough water will trigger a transformation. The Las Plagas parasite is a harmless nuisance mainly because the bodily fluids and flesh of his body are uninhabitable for it. It might've led Leon to eat Del Iago's corpse alongside some El Gigantes then take the bones for his nest.

Absolutely would've spirited Sherry away if he could but the Birkin deserves to live an actual life. Leon did show his true nature once given the rare chance of privacy. Very few such as Sherry, Ashley, Luis and unfortunately Ada know about. (The latter was an accidental occurrence in Spain.)

The mucus Leon secretes has a powerful clotting nature than just preservation. He used it to stop Luis from bleeding out although had to tell the truth. Leon might've shift into his true form in the Saddler boss fight as he was completely fed up with the cultist. Los Plagas is nothing compared to the wrath of an Elder Dragon.

Narkarkos merfolk have a very powerful energy in their bodies called Dragon Energy. A volatile source that glows a brilliant dark crimson similar to blood in color. When enraged, this energy surges through their body causing the spots and eyes to glow a terrifying red. It is strong enough to irritate bioluminescent species that they flood the area in natural light.

Leon is no exception as his fury can turn the sea around him into a shining omen. He can fire dragon energy in the form of massive lasers from both his main tentacles and mouth. NEVER ENGAGE A NARKARKOS MER IN THEIR NEST! These nests are their arsenal and repair shop. Any bones a threat or prey destroys can easily be replaced in seconds.

Narkarkos merfolk are very territorial especially when it comes to their claims. People that Leon holds dear is one example of that. Not a single enemy knows the true horror hidden underneath his human skin. Give him a reason to unleash that... Pray for a very swift demise.

That's all I have for now! I have a poll up with normal Leon so check it out before time runs out! Until next time folks, continue to thrive in the wake of Raccoon City.

[imalent-uk]

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[my-daily-shop]

Portable USB Rechargeable super bright flashlight Camping Torch

Light Up Your Path with the Brightest Camping Torch on the Market. Illuminate your adventures with the Super Bright Flashlight Camping Torch. Whether you’re hiking trails or exploring caves, this flashlight is your ultimate companion. Its super bright LED light cuts through darkness, providing crystal-clear visibility in any condition. Say goodbye to dim, unreliable flashlights and hello to…

[heaven-s-black-box]

Deja Vu- Mikayuu

Return to File- Event Masterlist

Recovery date: April 28th, 2020

Description: Enemies to Lovers

Notes: This is an entry from the Mikayuu 2020 bingo records. Click here for the next entry.

Word count: 823

Back to directory

The mountain side was rough and uneven. This was not appreciated by the horses, especially while carrying knights and one was even pulling a cage. Prince Yuu had been tasked with capturing the wizard in the mountains, so he was riding up the mountain with five other knights. His father had tasked him with bringing down the wizard to prove he was ready to be king.If he could think up a plan to capture the wizard and go through with it, he was smart enough to be king. Because while Yuu was a skilled fighter, he wasn’t the brightest.

Stopping in front of the cave, they dismounted. It was a wide entrance but they didn’t want to risk bringing horses in. If there was a cave in or something, the horses would only slow them down. Score one for Yuu’s brain! Lighting a torch, he led the knights into the cave. It was deeper then he’d thought, although it crossed his mind that he may be in the wrong cave… He was pretty sure he was in the right place.

Suddenly the torch went out and Yuu couldn’t breath. Whipping his head around, he tried to find something, anything. Preferably whatever was stopping him from breathing, although he couldn’t see anything. The next thing he knew, he was out.

When he woke up, his body felt heavy. It wasn’t dark anymore, and it looked like a dimly lit study. Trying to get up, he heard the clanking of chains against stone. Looking down, he found his wrists chained to the wall behind him.

“So you’re awake,” came a voice from the other side of the room.

He looked up and around finding a stairwell. At the base was a boy his age. He was wearing a white button up rolled past his elbows and black pants. His hair was a very pale blond and was tied back. 

“Who are you? Let me go!”

“Mikaela,” he walked over to a table in the middle of the room, “but you can call me Mika. As for the chains...” He snapped his fingers and the chains fell.

Yuu rubbed his wrists and made his way to Mika. “I’m looking for the wizard that lives in these mountains. He was probably the one who knocked me out, did you see him?”

Mika looked at him, then turned back to his book. “You aren’t very smart are you?”

“He-” Mika pointed at himself.

“You’re looking at him.

“What! But wizards are supposed to be old, and have long beards and weird robes! There’s no wa- how… huh?” He looked at Mika with the dumbest expression ever.

“Geez,” Mika huffed, “fine, don’t believe me. But you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re my insurance. If I have you, they can’t kill me. Therefore you aren’t leaving.” Mika shrugged with his statement. 

Yuu scowled and reached for his sword, only to finally realize it was gone. Mika snickered but still kept to his book. Instead, Yuu reached further behind him to the knife he kept. That was also missing and Mika finally spoke again.

“You really aren’t that bright huh? How were you even planning on being king?”

“Shut up!” Yuu swung at Mika and Mika leaned away. Then Yuu ran to the stairs and Mika just watched. He climbed the stairs until he came out the top. Only he found himself on the other side of the room he came from. Mika was still in the chair, and he looked up and waved. 

This would be the start of an interesting friendship.

---

After about the first month and a half, Yuu had given up on escaping. Mika wasn’t sure if it was because he realized he wasn’t going anywhere or he didn’t care anymore. By the end of the second month, Yuu had actually begun to take an interest in Mika’s work. Apparently, he was looking for a way to reverse the curse on his mentor. His mentor had been turned into a bat, the same bat that always seemed to get in his face when he sat beside Mika.

Mika and Yuu found each other's company nice. Yuu would sometimes hear Mika whing to the bat. It was usually something along the lines of, “it’s so cliche.” Now, normal people would probably start putting things together. Mika’s blush when they talked, the invitation to share a bed, asking Yuu to help him, you know that stuff. But not Yuu. It took Mika pulling Yuu into a kiss to make him realize. And they were both reduced to blushing messes.

After awhile, Yuu spoke up, “You know… there's a village on the other side of this mountain. I heard they were looking for a wizard, we could… you know…”

Mika looked up from the floor. “Pardon.”

“I said we could maybe move there!” Both their faces turned bright red and Yuu looked down.

“I- I like that idea…”

[hy4-c1nth]

They say stars shine the brightest in Theros. That's their home supposedly. The constellations are just a bit clearer as if presenting themselves to the countless poets that sing their hymns of creation. The dauntless tales of heroes saving villages from scaly monsters and lovers ripped apart by the cruel hand of a god's will. They paint the night sky in a way you can't compare.

But for two young boys the stars were the least of their concerns. Too busy sneaking up the hill, sandals slipping on the muddy dirt after an afternoon of spring rain. They'd taken the exact same path towards their favorite spot underneath the shade of a fig tree. The steps they took were guided by a trail they had taught themselves. It would change in a few years. The ground would give in, remember the way they took and forever be changed. Even now, years in the future, years after the war and the loss, it will remain this way. Not allowing weed or flowers to cover the path, cover its memories of the two boys.

They ran, covering their giggles with playful shushes and friendly shoves. The boy in front guided their way like a torch at night, his golden locks catching the rays of the moon in a way no mortal could emulate. Slightly taller, sculpted feature slightly too perfect. Unmarked by the awkwardness of adolescence. His arms held a cloth napkin wrapped around a series of cheeses and sweetmeats he'd stolen from the kitchen. 

The boy in back looked a bit more mortal. Small marks covered his face, a flaw so adolescent it could hardly be called a flaw at all. He smiles when his foot catches on a raised root, indicative of his boyish clumsiness, and it's all teeth and sparks. He carries a jug filled halfway with the wine they´d secured for themselves.

Tonight was a celebration of dates that had already passed but were of no less importance. 

The sandals they wore were just enough to protect them from the small pebbles on the ground, but they still felt them as they bent the leather and dug into their soles. But they had long grown accustomed to the feeling. That's what training builds you up to. Outlast any discomfort, be strong enough to overcome it. It's a second skin to them that they're being taught to never shed. As they sit on the muddy cold ground they spread the napkin in place of a plate and start to pass the jug.

The first sips are taken with a certain nervousness. Giddy with the slight rebellion they can afford, excitement from doing something oh so very grown up. The tallest makes a face once the wine hits his tongue. The image of soldiers and generals downing cup after cup of wine had led him to imagine a different taste. It was bitter, much too dry, and it left a funny feeling in his nose. The boy with the darker hair laughed in his face. How lucky he was to see the crack of perfection.

At this hour of the night, what's done is done. Tomorrow they'll wake up groggy and grumpy, far less attentive than their teachers would expect. But that is a worry for their tomorrow. Tonight they get to bask in the shared feeling they're still too young to name. 

For a few hours they get to share a meal filled with laughter and shy brushes of the hand.

For a few hours, they get to be young and in love, not legends in the making.

[plsupreme]

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[desertdollranch]

Lyra’s Journey

Once upon a time, a young princess named Lyra lived in a tower that was very far away from everything and everyone.

She had been born in the tall, thin, windowless tower, and had never been outside of its thick stone walls. Before her birth, the Goblin King had declared that if he was not given the lands bordering the great river, he would steal away the Queen’s firstborn child and turn her into a goblin. So the princess had only ever known life within the tower walls, with no knowledge of the world outside. She didn’t even understand the concept of things being far away. For her, the entire universe was in this small place. Anything in that universe was always close enough to touch. 

At the top of the tower was one small window, but for many years Lyra didn’t know that. She was not permitted to open the door that led to the highest staircase. But a fortnight before her eleventh birthday, a newly employed servant carelessly forgot to lock the door after passing in and out of it to shake the bedsheets, and Lyra found the passageway wide open. She cautiously looked beyond the door, and the staircase was lit with a light much brighter than that of a torch or a candle. She followed the stairs, wanting to see why the light of that torch was so bright and so colorless. She walked up the staircase until it ended. And there, in the wall of the tower, was a hole in the universe. 

When Lyra looked at the hole, she saw a blue tapestry above a yellow carpet woven with a single silver thread, and a large, bright lantern above them. When she reached out her hands, she couldn’t feel these things, and that troubled her deeply. How could something exist, but not feel like anything when she touched them? Staring at the lantern hurt her eyes. It was so small, yet was casting the brightest light she had ever seen.

Of course, it was the sky and the sun and the river and the surrounding grassy hills that Lyra had discovered, but she had no words for these things. She didn’t understand that they were very far away from her, or that the sun only looked small because it was far away. 

The sound of footsteps behind her turned Lyra’s gaze away and to the servant, who had suddenly remembered that she had not locked the door, and had returned to do so. 

“What is this?” Lyra asked her. “I’ve never seen it before.”

The servant had been told not to speak to the princess about the outside world, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to leave the tower and make herself a target for the Goblin King. But her heart softened at that moment for the captive princess, and she couldn’t bear to lie. 

“It’s a window,” the servant said. “And out there is the sun, the sky, the clouds, the wind, and the beautiful earth. The silver thread is the river that flows from the mountains.” 

Lyra didn’t know what those words meant, so the servant explained how this tower was only a small place inside a much larger tower, called the world. Above was the sky, too far away to touch. Clouds were not as high as the sky, yet still too far away. But the ground could be touched. Lyra wanted more than anything to touch the ground.

She and the servant spent time every day of the next two weeks visiting the window. Sometimes they would look out at night, and Lyra would gaze at the thick curtain of stars that had been hidden behind the light of the sun. And on clear days, Lyra could see some small, dark blue clouds in the west. The servant said that those were the mountains, where the ground is tall and slopes upward toward the sky, like a spiral staircase.

“Is that where the sun goes at night?” Lyra asked one day, suddenly enchanted with the notion of the sun hiding in the mountains.

“Maybe,” the servant said. “All I know is that the mountains are the kingdom of the fairies. But I’ve never been there. I hear it’s a place where magic rules, and the laws of nature are unpredictable. Few people who visit the realm ever return.”

The princess couldn’t stop thinking about it. She thought about it all through the day and through the night. The next day would be her birthday, and she would be eleven years old. Her mother the Queen would come to visit Lyra for a few hours. Then, the servant explained, the Queen would leave the tower, and travel back to her own palace.

Before her mother left, Lyra left a wooden pencil between the door frame and the door, so that when the Queen departed from the tower, the door didn’t close all the way. And that’s how Lyra finally left the tower, in the early hours after sunrise. She left the tower and began walking west, following the source of the river. 

She only wore her fancy gowns once a year, on her birthday. All other days, she dressed in the same simple woolen and linen clothes that the servants wore. Certainly nobody who was looking for a runaway princess would think to notice the girl in peasant’s clothing. 

How strange the forest seemed to her. She knew the sun was shining over her head, but the trees covered the light and separated it into small sections. Music flowed from the treetops, and she knew she was hearing what the servant had called “birdsongs”. 

As the day began to grow dark, Lyra realized that the sun did not hide in the mountains at night. It disappeared below the horizon, just like she had seen it do from the tower window. 

The forest was colder than she had thought it would be. She wished she had brought a blanket to keep herself warm.

Instead, Lyra crawled under a bush and lay down on the pine needles. She thought she’d never get to sleep, but eventually she must have fallen asleep. 

Because she was woken abruptly by the sound of footsteps on dried leaves.

Before her stood a fairy girl, clad in silk and gold. 

“Welcome, Princess Lyra,” the fairy said. “I too am a princess, the heir to the realm of the fairies. My name is Moonchild. It’s a pleasure to meet my counterpart from the kingdom of humans. I’m so glad you’ve found your way to us.”

Lyra didn’t know what to say. She gave an awkward curtsy.

“I was just like you,” the fairy continued. “I didn’t like the human world. I was hated and hurt by the people who should have loved me the most. So I ran away from them and came here. The fairies and the elves took me in with love in their hearts, and gave me a new name and a new life. You can do it too. Your heart is free.” 

“Will the Goblin King find me here?” Lyra asked.

“Never,” Moonchild replied. “You’re safe among my people.”

“Then what do I do now?” Lyra asked. 

“Anything you would like,” Moonchild said. “The forest will grant any wish you make. What do you want most of all?”

Lyra thought for a few moments. She looked into the face of the rising sun, which had broken out from behind the clouds and the trees. It was the same sun, the same sky she had seen from the tower window. But this was not the same world, and she was not the same person.

“I don’t want to be a princess any more,” she finally said. “I’ve had enough of that life. Now I want to meet people. People who are new to this world and are discovering it for the first time.”

“Then you might find happiness with the midwife,” Moonchild said with a smile. “Look over there, that’s her cottage right behind you.”

Lyra followed Moonchild’s gesture, and approached the little house with the wooden door.

She knocked. The midwife opened the door, and invited Lyra in with a smile.

And that’s how Lyra Meadowlark became the midwife’s apprentice. No more a princess, she lives simply and by the seasons of the forest. 

Even in the realm of the fairies and elves and other magic folk, babies must be born. Lyra and the midwife travel often, helping welcome them into the world, the way the fairy princess and the midwife had done for Lyra. There is so much knowledge and skill involved in being a midwife, but she learns quickly. 

While their mothers rest, she brings the new babies outside and introduces them to the sky, the sun, and the wind. 

“It’s all yours,” she says to the babies.

“There’s so much world out here, and you’re free to live in it. All you have to do is walk towards the sun.”

[unstoppableforcce]

forever

a santiago garcia regency valentine’s day fic

pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x reader (regency-ish au)

this is for @waatermelon-sugaar as a part of @sergeantkane valentine’s day fic exchange !! the secret is over, here it is, I truly truly truly hope that you enjoy !! trying my hand at something fluffy and somewhat historical was fun, I hope it turned out to your liking, I really do !! (honestly, pride and prejudice was a big inspiration here lol one of my favorites)

His hands. 

The most casual extension of himself. A simple handshake, a gentle touch to ease you up a step, a fleeting touch as he maneuvered through a crowded room. A resounding comfort even when he had to hold himself back, refrain from touching you the way he truly wanted to. An overwhelming strength in his grip, keeping you steady as you slipped, holding you tight when he feared you may float away. 

His hands were everything that he was. Firm and resolute. Soft and comforting. Gentle when needed and unbreakable otherwise. 

His hands were a bridge, a tether to the man you loved no matter how much distance he was forced to keep. But in the end, his hands weren’t enough. Stolen touches across the candlelit rooms of reverie, soft gazes cutting through the half-light… it could sustain you, but you didn’t want to be sustained. You just wanted him. 

All of him. 

The moonlight sparkled across the spread of tousled bed sheets that just couldn’t hold you anymore, you couldn’t speak to exactly what woke you from your gentle sleep, but you could feel it in your chest, something urging you from the artificial warmth of the linen, urging you to the very real chill of the night that seeped in through the gilded window. Starlight cascaded down around the field just beneath your seat on the window sill, midnight dew covering the greenery with a floating cloud, a pillow of soft you would sink right into. Tightening the silky edges of your robe over your shoulders, you leaned into the chill of the glass pane separating you from the twilight beauty, watching with a careful stare. Not just admiring the beauty, but watching. Waiting. 

Waiting for something, you didn’t even know what, but you could feel it in your chest. The quiet promise wrapped its way around your heart, beating gently beneath your skin, echoing in your chest until you had no choice but to listen. 

A promise of what? You truly didn’t know until you saw the fog break, surrendering to the speed of the horse and rider cutting through. 

The man you loved. 

Why bother with tossing rocks for your attention when he had it the second you locked eyes on the familiar crest of his shoulders and tuft of his curls atop his head, damp with the evening fog he fought through. You wanted him. You needed him. 

And his hands caught you the second you ran out to him, drowning in the heavy excess of fabric you had thrown on in the rush that compelled you to his side. Firm as they gripped you tight to the warmth of his chest, soldier-like precision to the way he held every inch of himself to you. Soft as they trailed in gentle paths of loving heat up and down your back in ways they never could with so many eyes following you in the daytime. His hands held you tight, reiterating the unspoken promise that kept a torch lit in your chest all this time, that he loved you, that he always would. 

No matter how many wars they sent him to fight, no matter how many battles tore through him. Santiago loved you, and that was the most important thing. 

The only important thing. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he sighed out, the simple tone acting as a glass plane itself, letting you see straight through him. Letting you see the way his heart glowed for you. “I just had to see you.”

“I was already awake.” Waiting. Waiting for you. 

“Ride with me, will you?”

You couldn’t agree any faster, your head nodding furiously before the question even fully escaped his lips. 

It didn’t matter how long the journey was, nor did it matter how cold the night was. Twists of a midnight wind began to curl and spiral around the two of you as his horse picked up speed, but it didn’t come close to penetrating the pocket of warmth you had constructed around the two of you. Your hands held tight around his center, a connection of warmth keeping a flame lit deep within each of you, feeding on the love that overflowed from each of your hearts in the mere presence of one another. As long as you had him, had him right there to touch, had his hands reaching back to hold yours when the ride slowed to an occasional trot, as long as you had him, nothing else mattered. It never would.

The cottage was small, practically non-existent in comparison to the estate he had pulled you from, but it might as well have been a palace given the awe that struck you the second your stare landed on it. Tucked back into the woods, it wasn’t too far from the trickling stream and pond of croaking frogs, you could even hear it as the horse slowed to a stop near the door, the drips of the creek as it filtered through the rocks and forest, the bellowing barks of the toads who sat alongside it, awake in the midnight light. 

Santi hopped off first, slow on his battle-worn legs to land with an easy thud, and in the same second, he had his hands extended for yours. 

His perfect hands. The hands that sustained you. 

You had been his one and only for years, even if only in stolen glances and illicit passing, but you still felt a spark when you slipped your hand gently into his. Every touch was a burning ember, ready to start a new fire, ready to keep you warm for a lifetime. 

He carried you down off the horse, carried you all the way inside the small cottage as your eyes fought the shadows cast by the moonlight for a glimpse of the hidden beauty of the modest home. Twisted vines spiraled up the sides of the cobbled stone walls, a garden of flowers flanked the simple pathway he led you up, and small patches of grass, mere sprigs really, shot up between the stones he stepped carefully on to avoid the mud, individual beauties, each little breakthrough. And as he led you inside, the beauty only grew, no longer hidden in the twilight shadows as Santi began meticulously lighting each candle, one by one, until the one room cottage was drowning in the golden glow of it. 

A bed, a kitchen, a fireplace he had burning the second he got the last candle lit. You had never felt so warm, this was everything you needed. The perfect space and him. 

Each move of his hands and you fell even more in love with him. 

“It isn’t much…” his sullen tone nearly knocked the wind from your chest. It wasn’t much, but it was everything, he had to realize that, didn’t he? 

You whipped around, coat still settled snug over your shoulders even as the room began to heat up, the fire running the midnight chill away, and found him sat back against the little wooden table, holding a beautiful bouquet of natural, hand-picked flowers in his hand. The vibrant colors were overflowing from the small tie of ribbon he had holding them all together, all your favorite colors, all wild, so different from anything you had ever been gifted. Unique. Perfect in his grip. 

“I don’t know… It’s mine now, it’s ours, if you want… it isn’t much--”

“Santiago…” you cooed, padding gently across the room until you found yourself inches from him and his sullen stare, directed down at your feet like he feared your reaction, feared he wouldn’t find the electric smile that currently lit up your face. “It’s perfect.”

Your fingers slipped delicately around where his held tight to the gorgeous bouquet, easing his grip until you were sharing the light weight between the two of you. They were everything you had always wanted. 

He was everything you had always wanted. 

“Santiago, you’re perfect.” 

He had a smile that rivaled the moon on its brightest night. 

“Santiago, I love you more than anything.”

That was all he ever needed to hear. 

He wrapped his hands carefully around your waist, drawing you in as close as he could possibly hold you, leaning in to share your breath as the warmth of his forehead nuzzled gently into yours. This was the future he wanted, no more dancing around each other under the unbearable weight of prying eyes, this was what he wanted, he wanted to hold you close and never let you go. He wanted to have you until the end of eternity, this close, no outside eyes, just the two of you. 

His hands traveled up with that same soldier-like, careful precision he applied to everything he did, holding at the base of your chin, against the back of your neck, keeping you close, close enough to bump your nose against his as he watched your eyes flutter shut. 

It was just a kiss, a simple kiss, nothing you hadn’t shared with him a hundred times, but this was different. It wasn’t a stolen moment, it was a whole moment, it wasn’t hidden in a hallway, shadowed by the light of too few candles, it was well-lit, bright and free. It was loving, and gentle, not rushed and hushed. 

He loved you. He loved holding you, he loved kissing you. He loved you and he wanted to love you forever, just like this, just the two of you. He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, holding you close, as tight as the moonlight began to fade and the gentle touches of morning sun began to slip through floating white curtains that covered the windows. 

“Will you stay?” He hummed as he held you from behind and watched the early morning fog settle gently across the vibrant green grass of the expansive fields stretching just outside the small cottage. “Will you stay with me? Here?”

“As long as you’ll have me…”

“Forever.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, intertwining your fingers with his where he held them flat across your stomach. 

This was exactly the forever you wanted, the forever you wanted with him. This place was perfect, he was perfect, everything was perfect. 

“I love you, Santiago,” you sighed out gently, letting your head fall back against his shoulder as you traced over his knuckles gently. “I love you with my whole heart.”

“You are my heart. My whole heart.”

And you would be. For an eternity. As long as you had him like this, with his hands wrapped around you. His perfect hands.

—

[chaolie]

Fundywastaken Week, Day 1 - A Winter's Ball

Here I go again, writing for another one of @fundyfiles' events!! Was this inspired by the song from Hamilton?? Is it just a ball?? Who knows! (Tho honestly, it just has a little reference to the song and not much more). Also, this is kind of written from Dream's POV because I figured that would be interesting to do! As always, you can go read this on my Ao3, too!

Characters: Fundy, Dream, Others mentioned/implied

Words: ~2.5k

The ballroom was… a change for sure. It was big and spacy, its walls weren’t made of stone, but instead of wood, and rather than being dark, torches and lanterns made everything inside seem brighter. It was nothing like battle fortifications, it was cozy and friendly, it allowed people to reconnect. With its soft music and the sweet foods available to all, it assured them that the war was over. And while sure, most attendees preferred sticking to their long-time allies than their previous enemies, a few people dared to engage in conversation with the ones from the opposing side.

Dream kept leaning against the wall and enjoyed the chill breeze that reached him through the cracks. The wood was thick, so it wasn’t as cold as the air usually got when it was snowing, but it was refreshing enough. Every once in a while, he took a moment to look for his friends, and each time his gaze reached them, they seemed to be having fun. Good, that’s what they were there for, after all. And while he did promise to them that he’d do the same, he never said that his definition of fun wasn’t simply supporting a wall.

A tap on his shoulder almost caught him off-guard, he could’ve even flinched if it wasn’t the 5th time he felt it during the same night. With a quiet sigh, he turned his head and looked at Sapnap, the one responsible for tapping him. His friend was almost breathless, which wasn’t too surprising. From what Dream saw so far, when he wasn’t busy bothering him, he was dancing with anyone willing. And the two men who just recently arrived at this part of the land seemed more willing to dance the night away with him.

“Still no one?” Sapnap asked, still catching his breath. Dream nodded.

“No one seems too interested in me,” he admitted, briefly gesturing to all the people in the building.

“Or they’re too scared to ask you for a dance,” the man suggested. “So why don’t you do that?” he asked, and Dream could only shrug. Why didn’t he? “What, you don’t know who to ask?”

“...Do you have any suggestions?” he muttered eventually. Sapnap stifled a laugh and looked around the ballroom.

“Hm, well, I mean, I won’t mind you stealing one of those guys for a dance,” he suggested, glancing towards the two men he was spending his night with.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Dream shook his head.

Before Sapnap could throw out another suggestion, there came a loud crash. They both turned their heads towards one of the tables with food and saw a fox hybrid wearing a pastel-coloured L’Manburg suit standing over a broken plate. Just seconds later, Wilbur was next to him, the two exchanging some words too quietly for Dream or Sapnap to hear. Eventually, the fox turned and left, walking over to an empty bench and sitting down only to glare at his country’s leader.

“...Do you know who’s that?” Dream asked, turning to look at Sapnap again. The other man almost managed to stop himself from laughing quietly.

“Yeah. If I’m not wrong, Fundy? But look out, if you decide to ask him for a dance you might start a second war. It would be funny, though,” he joked. When Dream didn’t quite react, he sighed. “He’s Wilbur’s son,” he clarified. The masked man nodded briefly. “So?”

“Don’t you have people to get back to?” Dream asked, motioning to the two men Sapnap’s been dancing with. His friend sighed.

“Sure. Good luck with finding someone,” he wished. After Dream answered with another nod, he turned and left.

The man closed his eyes and leaned against the wall again. He admired how fast Sapnap seemed to move on from the war and how easily he found himself in this ball, but that was not something they had in common. With the chilly breeze keeping him company, he let out a deep sigh and got to relax for a whole minute until someone tapped him on his arm again. Expecting it to be Sapnap, he opened his eyes and turned towards him.

“Back already-” he started, but quickly noticed that the person next to him was not his friend. Instead, he was now face to face with the fox hybrid they noticed before. “Oh. Can I help you?” he asked, puzzled.

“Probably,” the fox, Fundy, shrugged. This only baffled the masked man further.

“...What do you need, then?”

“Well, you see… I kind of overheard you a moment ago?” he started, and Dream was very grateful for his mask covering his expression. Before he could figure out how to answer, Fundy went on. “And, as you could’ve noticed,” he gestured briefly to the broken plate still on the ground, “I’m kind of looking for ways to annoy my father? So, uh… Do you maybe want to... I don't know, hang out or something?”

Dream barely stifled a laugh of relief, this was quite a good outcome of an “I heard you talking about me” situation. And if he agreed, Sapnap would stop worrying about him and focus on enjoying the ball for himself. And annoying General Soot in a harmless way seemed like a great way to pass the night. And, well, Fundy certainly seemed like an interesting guy too. All things considered, he nodded.

“You know what? Sure. Do you have anything in mind?” he asked. After a short pause of surprise, Fundy’s face lit up with the brightest smile Dream ever got to see.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d- uh- Do you dance?” he suggested finally. After giving it a second of thought, Dream fully pushed himself off the wall.

“I certainly try,” he answered. Somehow, Fundy’s smile grew wider as he held out his hand.

“Let’s try together, then,” he grinned. Taking the fox hybrid’s hand felt like sealing his fate for the night… but there wasn’t anything Dream wanted to do more.

They walked further from the wall and closer to the jukeboxes. The music left much to be desired, not one song played until the end ever since Tommy and Tubbo got their hands on the discs prepared for the ball and played them in a way only they truly understood. But it wasn’t too tragic, it was still good enough for a dance or two. Or three. Or four. Or- which dance was it, again?

The time they spent holding hands and swirling to the music was not what they expected it to be. Dream, who originally accepted the offer as more of a “why not” felt himself get almost giddy, and each time a song stopped, he found himself quietly praying that the next one would come on before his partner would decide that they spent enough time together. Luckily for him, Fundy didn’t even consider letting go first, and while his original intention was enjoying the shocked and annoyed looks Wilbur shot at the two, he barely acknowledged anything or anyone that wasn’t the masked man swaying with him or the music anymore. Only when their legs were barely able to hold them up and their hands were starting to ache each time they dared to raise them, they slowed down and stumbled over to a pillar, next to which they could catch their breaths.

“...Do you want to get some food?” Dream suggested once he decided he recovered enough. Once again, he got to see Fundy’s face light up at the offer.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded with a grin before pushing himself off the pillar. “Let’s go.”

Without truly acknowledging it, Fundy grabbed Dream’s hand and led him to one of the tables. While he could blame it on being tired, it still took the masked man an embarrassing amount of time to realize how he was following so close behind. When he did finally notice the fox hybrid’s hand over his own, leading him through the ballroom, the idea of pulling away didn’t even cross his mind. They soon reached the table, where they took some of the more interesting-looking foods, neither of them sure if they ever got to try those before.

They sat on one of the benches against the wall and tried all the snacks they managed to carry with them. Some were sweet, some were bitter, and some were so terrible they’d never touch them again. Even so, Dream found it strangely endearing to watch Fundy’s expression change each time he tried something bad. He didn’t even mind the risk of tasting something absolutely disgusting each time Fundy passed him a piece of food without a word, it only made the few actually tasty foods much sweeter.

Just as they were running out of snacks and were more focused on sharing a conversation filled with quiet laughs and silly jokes, someone approached them. The man standing at their side cleared his throat, and they both fell silent. They looked up and saw Wilbur, and while his arms were crossed, his face indicated defeat. Even so, Dream noticed Fundy’s grip on the bench they were sitting on tightening.

“Fundy, do you have a moment to speak with me?” he asked finally. The fox hybrid hummed quietly.

“Well, uhh…” he muttered. Figuring he was looking for an excuse, Dream decided to jump in.

“Can we step outside before that? This music really isn’t helping my headache,” he asked, directing the question at Fundy.

“Yeah, sure!” he nodded quickly before looking back at Wilbur. “Uh. Maybe when I’m back?” he suggested with a nervous smile. His father sighed, but nodded.

“Don’t catch a cold in the snow,” he said before turning around and leaving. Once he was gone, Fundy audibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Do you actually want to go outside?” he asked finally. Dream wondered for a second before nodding.

“Fresh air is always good,” he pointed out, getting to his feet. Fundy did the same before looking around the ballroom.

“There’s an exit right there,” he noticed, taking the first couple of steps towards it.

This time Dream had to admit to doing it consciously, but as he followed the fox hybrid, he found himself reaching out to grab his hand. The second he did, Fundy paused and turned to look at him. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, and Dream already prepared for his hand to be shaken off and pushed away. Instead, he got to once again see that endearing, bright smile appear on Fundy's face as he continued on his way. Behind his mask, Dream smiled back, and while his grin was just as genuine, Fundy wouldn’t know.

They made their way outside and into the makeshift, snow-covered garden. While the main building for the ball was built with attention to detail and the most skilled builders were working on it for a little short of a month, the garden was a last-minute addition and lacked the same care. It didn’t matter too much, though, it was much more quiet and the small snowflakes falling from the sky made it look almost magical, even if it was slightly asymmetrical. The two stopped by the frozen fountain and leaned against the cool, smooth stone at its side. Their hands were still connected, but neither of them seemed to pay too much attention to it anymore.

“So, do you have any idea what he wanted to talk about?” Dream asked after sitting in silence for quite some time. Fundy shrugged.

“He probably wanted to tell me he won’t make me attend any other balls and that I can stop hanging out with you. Doesn’t matter, I’m having fun anyway,” he answered.

“Did he make you come to this one?”

“Basically. He said it’s too important to miss and all that. Did someone make you attend this too?” Fundy asked. Dream shrugged.

“Uh… not really. I mean…” he hesitated. How should he even put this into words? Absent-mindedly, he reached to the back of his head and undid his mask. Maybe some snow actually falling onto his face would help him? “My friends made me promise to come here and ‘have fun’, and I didn’t want to go back on that.”

“U-uh-huh,” Fundy hummed after overcoming the surprise that stopped him from speaking at first. Dream turned to look at him, and found him glancing between the man and his hands. Or rather, his mask in his hands. Oh.

“O-oh, sorry, I- uh-” Dream stuttered, slapping the item back onto his face. It was there for a reason, and- why did he take it off again? He wasn’t usually this comfortable around strangers. Around anyone, actually, so why-

“Oh no, it’s- it’s fine, you can keep it off if you want!” Fundy assured him quickly. “I-if you want, I don’t-” he tried to elaborate, but he was at a loss of words, and Dream was already lowering it again. More cautiously this time.

“...Are you sure?” he asked. People… didn’t usually like what they found under it. Fundy’s awkward expression was once again brightened by his smile as he nodded.

“Yeah! It’s cool,” he confirmed.

With a soft smile on his own face, Dream put the mask on the edge of the fountain and allowed the snow to touch his skin for the first time in forever. The silence he and Fundy fell into was strangely comfortable, and neither of them seemed to really mind it. Sure, the man could feel the fox hybrid’s gaze on himself every once in a while, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t guilty of doing the same, of glancing at his companion and… He was never so grateful for snow. It was a good enough explanation of the red shade tinting his face.

“Hey, uh, Dream…” Fundy started, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” the man answered immediately. Perhaps a bit too fast? It certainly took Fundy off-guard, but he managed to collect himself.

“So… I know this was all meant to just annoy my dad and such, but…. Do you want to meet again sometime?” he offered. The surprise on Dream’s face must’ve been obvious, and it certainly took away the fox hybrid’s confidence. His ears flattened against his head and he was just about to stutter out some excuse for asking, but the man managed to regain his voice just in time.

“Yeah! I’d love to!” he nodded, and couldn’t help a small smile crossing his lips. Fundy visibly relaxed upon hearing that. Then, there came excitement.

“Really?! That’s- Yes! Okay, so, uh- when?” he stuttered out, barely keeping himself in one place. And yet again, that bright smile on his face… Dream would do anything to see it every day.

“Whenever you want to,” he answered. Suddenly, he felt just as giddy, and he really hoped that Fundy would pick a date that would come soon. He couldn’t wait-

“Uh- Tomorrow?”

“...Sounds perfect.”