#Chilling out? WRONG! [FROSTBITE] [FROSTBITE] [FROSTBITE] [FROSTBITE] [FROSTBITE] [FROSTBITE]

[anonymocha]

consider making out with your dentist 🤗

not finishing this so dm me if you want the lineart to color <\3

[sakuravalelp]

Ellie(Dani) didn't realize how dangerous Danny's home was for him until he was more worried about her when she got her own home. - Prompt I think(?)

Ellie wasn't sure how to feel when Danny excitedly animated her to accept Arthur's invitation to live in Atlantis.

"Just if you want of course, but you'll get a stable home, and Frostbite said living underwater might be good for your water cores stability."

She had already been planning to accept the offer. Once she gave the guy an opportunity to have some sort of conversation, the guy was pretty chill, and the castle was pretty cool. So yeah, she was going to accept the offer.

But for some reason Danny's eagerness for her to go with Arthur hurt. It felt like he was trying to get rid of her.

She knew that was ridiculous, she didn't even live with Danny. He looked out for her, and was always a call away but, as much as Danny parents her, he was just a child like her. It made sense he was happy to give away the responsibility of taking care of her.

So when Ellie moved into Atlantis, she was expecting to hear less from Danny. After all, she had settle down, and he didn't need to worry about her adventures anymore. That was Arthur's and Mera's job now.

Weirdly enough, it was the complete opposite.

Now that Ellie was living with adults, Danny seemed MORE worried for her. They went from a call once a week or so, to almost daily calls in the afternoons. He would be more insistent about her telling him if anything was wrong.

He would ask specifics about the food she was eating, and her activities of the day, and her room, and the castles security...

Sam had told her that it was because he used to be able to monitor if she was eating well through the transactions of the debit card they had given her. Tuck had told her that he used to evaluate how safe she was through the phones location, and the hotels receipts.

And well, maybe she underestimated how much attention Danny put on her before, but the way the calls went made it seem like he thought she might be in more danger now that she had a stable home.

Which made no sense, because unlike him, she didn't even need to hide her ghostlines. Anything that was out of normal for Atlanteans was excused with meta-abilities, she didn't need to worry about being classified as a non-sentient species.

That was when it caught up to her. Danny was worried now that she was in a stable home because his stable home had always been dangerous for him. It isn't even a think of it being dangerous now that his a ghost, it has been dangerous ever since he was a child. She remembers all of Jazz's rants about how unreliable their parents have always been.

The food has always been contaminated. The security now attacked him directly, but there had always been a possibility of it malfunctioning and hurting the residents. Him and Jazz had always had the responsibilities of not only keeping the house clean, but the lab as well. If she tops it with the house security system attacking him, and his parents been ghost hunters...

Ellie hadn't found it too dangerous back then, Danny mocked Jazz rants with her, and Jack and Maddie were kind when they interacted with her in her human form. The Fentons neglect seemed liberating in comparison to Vlad overly controlling nature. But thinking about it now, after two months living in Atlantis, she doesn't like the picture.

She doesn't like the idea of Danny being somewhere so unsafe, but where would he go? He doesn't have a water core like her, and even if he had gotten sorta used to shapeshifting, he isn't good enough to live in a second form, which isn't recommendable either way. So he wouldn't be able to move underwater with her.

More so, she doubts that Danny would like to leave his Amity, he had taken the sole responsibilities of dealing with the whole humans - ghost conflicts. With the anti-ecto acts, there's no way he would leave the portal unsupervised.

What should she do now? Should she talk with Arthur about it? He said he was part of the heros friend group, what if they already know about the anti-ecto acts and are okay with it? What if they change hoe they act with her when she tells them she isn't actually an atlatean meta?

[fuzzybirdie]

This work was fully inspired by the following prompt/post and @freedomanddisorder 's amazing art, please! Check out both!

~~~

Ch.1 A Vacation To Gotham! What Could Go Wrong? (Pt1)

It had been 1 year scince Danny's accident, and 1 year since his parent's masterpiece miraculously started working. In celebration, danny's parents decided to take a holiday to gotham. Mostly to look at the bats, who were obviously ghosts. Just look at signal! Litterally creating ghost orbs. But, as the bats only come out at night (excluding signal) there nothing to do during the day. Nothing exept the mundane things like amusement parks and fast food restraunts.

Danny could tell that his parents were bored and upset that they couldn't interview any bats, (and boy, was danny glad that they'd chilled out after a year of actually interacting with ghosts) but they were still trying to make things fun for themselves too.

The Fentons had split up near the enterance, agreeing to meet up at the food stalls arround 1 for lunch. His parents went to the haunted house - ever reasearching, Jazz would wonder arround for a bit before deciding on her rides, while Danny went right for the roller coasters.

On the way, Danny had an idea; his parents were on the other side of the park, so they wouldn't question him if his hair and eyes suddenly changed colour, and he had been meaning to experiment with looking more alive in ghost form...Ducking into a bathroom, he started transforming. Slowly, Carefully, not touching the clothes, there. Finished, he looked at the miror to find- "I look like a ghost in a tee and jeans."-his skin still had the green tint from the ectoplasam in his veins, and his hair was steaming like dry ice.

The hair was more obviously inhuman, so he tackled that first. It would need to be solid, condensed, thicker and thicker, -too thick!

What once was steam now looked like a plain old block of ice. Maybe, his hair being made of ice would be fine if he seperated it a bit? If he peeled each layer into tiny little strings luke normal hair. Little by little, piece by piece, perfect. The ice string hair was curlier than he'd thought, waves of snow tickling his ears, eyebrows and the back of his neck.

The next problem was the green tint. This would take some thinking. He couldn't just pretend to be cosplaying a Vulcan from star trek. Could he turn his ectoplasam back into blood? Probably not, either he'd end up 'suffocating' (if that was even the right word) as a ghost or just turn back into a human and need to do this all over again.

Veto'd, too dangerous.

Thinking back, didn't frostbite say there was something odd with his ectoplasam and blood? Thats right! There were slight ammounts of ectoplasam in his blood and vice versa. If he could manipulate his remaining blood into the capillaries along the surface of his skin, it'd look like he still had a beating heart!...

Ok, that sounded bad even in his mind.

Shaking off that thought, he pushed his blood to his skin and checked the mirror one last time. Normal teen with white hair? Check. Now, Roller Coaster!

~~~

This is the first! || next

Thanks for reading! Unfortunately, I had to cut this in half. (Curse the word limit!) When I have time to post part 2 I'll link it down here. If the links work... Anyways! Please tell me if there's anything I can improve! Last time I posted something was back in... 2016? So i'm very out of practice

[crownofgildedlilies]

fireplace

pairing: s. todoroki x reader summary: A mission goes wrong, and a cabin in the mountains becomes a safe house. wc: 1.7k event masterlist

The mission had gone wrong. 

It hadn’t been a particularly high level case, so your agency had taken on the request. You’d been teamed up with Shouto, who you’d known only as just friends since your days at UA. You had been in Class B, and only interacted with his class during training exercises or the Sports Festival. 

He was a nice guy, and you knew you could have been trapped with someone much worse as the mission went south. 

It had taken you out of the city and into the snowy mountains. The villain you had been tracking had a quirk that helped him get the better of you in the snow, and despite Shouto being able to use his ice and flames to combat the cold, he had pulled back at the last second to rescue you. 

“I swear, I’m fine.” You hissed through your chattering teeth. One of your arms was slung over Shouto’s shoulders as he helped carry you through the snowy landscape towards the only sign of life on the mountain you desperately wanted to get off. 

But there, in the distance, was an old cabin that looked entirely abandoned. 

“You are on the verge of getting hypothermia. Frostbite is a risk. You are not fine.” Shouto mechanically listed off your injuries while helping you hobble through the snow. 

“But the villain—”

“Catching him will not be worth it at the cost of your life.” He countered, his calm exterior helping trick your mind into believing him. But you were a hero; you were simply wired differently. Catching villains and saving the day was always worth the risk. “He’s a low level thief with ties to burglary rings. We’ll rest up and catch him tomorrow.”

Body shaking with the force of your shivers, you couldn’t argue with his logic. Especially not as you nearly fell to your knees when he loosened his hold on you to pry open the door to the cabin. Rushing inside to escape the bitter cold of the mountain, you were silently thankful that he had insisted on finding shelter for the night. No doubt you wouldn’t have been able to carry on much longer. 

“Take off the wet outer layer of your suit. I’ll start a fire and look for blankets.” He ordered, taking control of the situation the same way he had done when he forced you to stop tracking the villain through the cold. You followed his directions after limping towards the dusty fireplace Shouto used his quirk to ignite. There were a few old logs left by whoever owned the cabin, and they caught fire easily. 

Instantly, the warmth brushed against your chilled skin. Even though retreating had gone against your instincts, you knew Shouto had been right when he said you wouldn’t have lasted much longer against the villain in your state. 

Distantly aware of Shouto moving around the small cabin, you crouched in front of the flames he created for you. The fireplace crackled and popped, a soothing sound that helped settle your nerves. While you waited for Shouto to return, you attempted to reach out to your agency that had organized the mission. Frowning, you realized the storm on the mountain that had forced you into the cabin had also knocked out any reception for the communication devices you had. 

“We’re stuck here until we can get out of here on our own,” You held out the comm to show Shouto as he returned with a foraged blanket in hand. His neutral expression didn’t waver, but you watched him contemplate your options as he unbuttoned the outermost layer of his hero suit. In preparation for fighting in the frozen mountains, you both had dressed in layers. And thankfully, not each layer had gotten wet from the snow. 

“The storm should blow by in the morning, and you’ll be warm enough to carry on by then.” He came to the same conclusion you had, and you nodded in agreement. You were done for the night, still shivering despite sitting in front of the fire. And Shouto had been right; you had recognized the signs of frostbite in your fingers as soon as you got inside the cabin. 

Wordlessly, you watched Shouto settle carefully onto the ground beside you, near the fireplace. He stretched his legs out in front of him, spread slightly and bent at his knees. You might have been imagining it, but you could have sworn you saw a faint blush coloring Shouto’s cheeks.

Must just be the cold.

“You’re still shivering. Use my body heat and the fire to warm up.” He suggested calmly, and suddenly your face was a bright shade of red. 

You were a professional, licensed hero. You fought villains on the daily, faced death more times than you could count. You had dedicated hours upon hours to training, to making yourself as strong as you could in order to save lives while risking your own. 

And you were blushing at the mere mention of getting close enough to Shouto so that you could share body heat. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” You stammered out a response, forcing yourself to stare into the fire and avoid looking at the man you had admired from a distance since your days at UA. 

“I don’t mind. You’re freezing.” 

Your teeth chose that very moment to chatter loudly, and you blushed even harder at your body betraying you. Suddenly unable to deny the truth to him any longer, you relented and shuffled closer to him beside you. 

Initially, you had only played on laying against his side, but as soon as you were close enough, Shouto set one of his large, warm palms on your side to guide you so that you sat between his stretched out legs, with your back against his chest. The position, at the very least, kept him from seeing just how flustered you were.

And as if he hadn’t already done enough damage to your heart, he wrapped his arms around you loosely so that he could help warm you up. 

It took a few minutes for your heart to calm enough to let you speak. 

“Thank you for doing this.” Your voice was quiet. It felt like if you spoke any louder, you would disrupt the peaceful lull that had fallen over the two of you. The fireplace crackled in the background, and you could hear the window whistling through the aged windows. But sitting so close to Shouto, you were incredibly comfortable, despite your initial reluctance. He was warm and strong, and even though your body had come so close to giving out due to the cold, you felt safe wrapped up by him. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” He matched your quiet tone, voice close to your ear. You were glad you could blame your brush with hypothermia on the shiver that raced down your spine. “Though the circumstances are not ideal, I’m glad we got to spend time together.”

“You mean me nearly freezing to death wasn’t your ideal way to hang out?” Teasing to deflect from the heat that rose up in your face at the insinuation of his words. How else were you supposed to react when Shouto Todoroki told you he was glad you got to spend time together?

“No.” Always calm, always level headed. You didn’t think anything of his words at first. “I wanted to take you out to dinner, first.”

You paused, struggling to process his words. Shouto had always been unattainable, out of reach. Had he really just admitted that he wanted to take you out? It was hard to believe; part of you worried that you had actually collapsed out in the snow, and everything since then had been a hallucination.

“Wait, really?” You twisted in his arms, sitting up and leaning back to look at him to make sure you hadn’t misunderstood. Like always, his face was unreadable. Handsome, but unreadable. “Like a date?”

“Fuyumi—my sister—suggested that I ask you. She said that’s what you do when you think you have romantic feelings for someone.” Shouto explained

“You talk about me to your sister?” That wasn’t the only thing your mind could latch onto, but it was all that came out when you struggled to form words. It was all happening a little fast. You hadn’t thought Shouto even considered you a friend ten minutes earlier, but now he suddenly wanted to take you on a date and spoke about you to his sister?

Your head was spinning, but not in a bad way. 

“If you do not feel the same way, please tell me so we can talk about something else.” 

Was he… getting embarrassed? Nothing in his expression changed, but you could almost see his confidence falling the longer you didn’t give him any sort of confirmation that you also wanted to go to dinner with him. 

“Shouto,” You smiled, settling your hand over one of his arms still loosely wrapped around your middle to help warm you. “I’d love to go to dinner with you sometime. And I think it’s sweet you talk to your sister about me.”

“That’s good.” From your spot so close to him, you watched a hesitant smile trace over his lips, and though you had always agreed that he was the most handsome—even in your days at UA—you nearly felt your heart stop at how stunning he was. “Are you available next week sometime? With us both being pros, it might be hard to get our schedules to match, but I want to try.”

“I want to try, too.” You assured him, squeezing the arm wrapped around you. Settling back into your place trapped between his body’s warmth and the fireplace, you felt a smile you couldn’t wipe away grow on your lips. “But maybe we should focus on getting off this mountain first.”

“Alright,” He agreed, wrapping his arms tighter around you in order to secure you in place before him. Suddenly, your previously frozen body felt unbearably warm. You really hadn’t expected your night to turn out the way it currently was, even if you had lost the villain. “We’ll warm up here tonight and make our move in the morning. Will you be ready to fight by then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good.” 

After a night by the fireplace with Shouto, you would be ready to take on any villain.

[the-unexplained-council]

Frostbitten Stars; Morning Frost

Legends of Avantris; Once Upon A Witchlight

Summary: The crew is separated in groups by walking into a mysterious room in a twisted manor, and you suddenly find yourself in a tundra. You’re stuck with the monotone tiger tabaxi in a frozen blizzard plane, one you’re not used to. You need to get out before you freeze to death, make it back to your other friends and make sure everyone’s okay… but maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

CW: cussing, frostbite mentions, starvation mentions, fluff, angst(?), weapon, fight, blood.

Word Count: 13.2k

-~-~-~-

“S-Shit..” you muttered, wheezing out a puff of hot air from your lungs, watching as the cloud of fog blew past your face. Your exposed skin being nipped by the cold, you felt every hair on your body begin to rise. Gripping your arms, you looked around the area.

Snow. That’s all you could see. Snow littered the ground, fluffing up the earth like a cotton ball plain. The clouds were light grey, shaking their frosted ends onto the ground below. There were hardly any trees around the area, though you could make out a pine tree horizon in the distance as you spin. The sun wasn’t visible, though the light kept the area bright.

“Guys?” You whipped around, suddenly extremely aware you were completely alone in this sudden tundra. “Gideon? Are you out there? I-It’s cold..” you hugged yourself tightly, begging for some warmth from the fire genasi himself. Even he would be cold out here, you knew. “Torbek..” you called faintly, wishing his wad of matted and deranged fur would be warm enough for this environment.

But no one was there.

Another heavy breath escaped your lips, your body shaking desperately to keep the blood circulating.

You pondered how you even got here, it was impossible, it had to be! You had been exploring this oddly twisted manor that reminded you of the mirror maze you’d find in a carnival. So many stupid twists and turns, doors that led to walls, stairs that led to nothing, doors that led to doors behind them, walls that turned into doors.. it was a nightmare.

You were originally traveling with the group, no one wanting to be separated due to the confusion. However, it seemed you took a wrong turn when you lingered a little too long behind. You walked through a door with a mirrored frame glinting with green.

Green.. that was Frost’s robe.

You had entered the door, thinking the door was the right direction to reunite with your friends.

Now you were here.

“Frost!” You called out, twisting this way and that in desperation. There’s no way you could be here, it just wasn’t possible! You had to still be in the manor, all you did was blink as you walked through the door and you were here.

You were getting significantly colder by the minute, desperately looking around for the door you came through, hoping this was just some Narnia adaptation. There was no door, why would there be in a place like this? You had to of been teleported.

What were you even supposed to do? The treeline was at least a mile, maybe more, away. There was a mountain to your left that stood tall, snow piled upon layers. A large river flowed alongside the mountain bed, ice along the shoreline towards the center, forever encased.

In a haze, you were determined to get out of here. Make it to the tree line. You thought. You can make it to the treeline, then make a fire.

Stuffing an ice chilled breath into your lungs, you tretched towards the line of trees in the distance. The snow crunching under your feet, you narrowed your eyes.

Make it to the treeline.

You tretched forward, heaving ice chested breaths as the snow crunched under you. The snow above fell solumly, slow and dance-like. All you had in your mind right now was survival. Once you had a fire you’d sit and figure out the rest.

Fire..

Thinking about the fun you and your friends have by the fire, the meals Kremy cooks and the shenanigans Gricko always uprooted. You missed it already, and you saw them only fifteen minutes ago.

About 100 feet away from your original spot, you noticed how the snow began to pick up. It was getting harder and harder to see in the thickness of it. The treeline looked like distant shadows now.

You stopped to survey your surroundings again. It wasn’t as far as you hoped, a little upset that the snow was high enough to slow you down so much. And.. what was that?

You strained your eyes, teeth clattering as you tried to make sense of the shadowy shape that had been behind you. You blinked a few times, then realized you saw something tall, something green.

“Frost!!” You yelled, stumbling over the snow in surprise. “Frost over here!! I’m over here!!” The new found adrenaline found your cold wet feet, running back to where you had last been just 30 minutes prior.

You saw the tabaxi turn around to look at you, then start jogging towards you. You felt so much relief, so much joy to see your friend that you just saw 30 minutes ago. Morning Frost, you’d take it.

“{y/n}?” The tabaxi inquired as he jogged up to your trembling frame. “How long have you been here? Are you feeling numb or perhaps feeling hot anywhere?” He dropped his heavy pack, immediately undressing his robe and wrapping it around your frame.

“30 minutes maybe,” you breathed out, just relieved to not be alone anymore. Breathing in, the musky forest smell of the tabaxi filled your nostrils as the robe was tied by the middle of your frame. It was surprisingly warm for such a thin appearing robe, and it was very large on you. “No I’m not feeling numb or hot yet, why?”

“You could catch hyperthermia very easily here, especially from not wearing winter clothes,” the prodigy explained, digging into his backpack and uncovering a thick quilted blanket with many shapes and colors and patterns thrown about. “Wear my robe, and wrap this quilt around you. It isn’t much, but it will be enough for now.”

“Thank you so much..” you grabbed the heavy quilt, wrapping it over your shoulders and relaxing at the warmth it gave you. You blinked, suddenly realizing Frost was in a thin short sleeved shirt with nothing giving him warmth. “Frost, the snow-“

Frost stopped digging in his pack, then looked down at himself. He then shrugged and continued digging. “I have fur, and I am very well equipt to handle this environment. The snow doesn’t bother me.”

You blinked, watching as the sourcerer lifted the pack and threw it onto his back.

“We should get to the trees,” he said quickly, looking around like you had before. “With the snow beginning to get worse we need to make a shelter and a fire before anything else. We mustn’t waste any time.”

Pulling the quilt closer around your frame, you nodded in agreement.

As the two of you marched toward through the terrain, it was mostly silence. With the both of you focusing on the trees, you figured it was better to talk once the fear of hyperthermia wasn’t on your plates. However, as you looked up at the humanoid beside you, you noticed his brows were knotted together tightly. He was very deep in thought.

“Frost,” you called for him, his ears twitching in acknowledgement. “Do you know why we’re here?”

Frost’s tail flicked, and his eyes wandered to the snow below him for a moment before returning to the trees. After a moment, he turned to you. “I have a theory, but I can honestly say I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Maybe we can brainstorm?” You offered, kind of hoping he’d agree so the silence wouldn’t be as loud as it was.

Frost nodded, looking back towards the tree line.

“I theorize that the mirrored frame around the door was some sort of magical item,” he began to explain. “I had noticed an encryption written into the door before I walked through,” an encryption? How did you not see it? “It was in a language I couldn’t completely understand, though I did recognize a few words. ‘Portal’ and ‘glassed eyes” were all I could understand. Mayhaps the mirror was the ‘glassed eye’ while the door was the portal.”

His ears twitched towards your direction, a puff of fog blowing past his face through his nose. You thought it made sense, though it was still very confusing. You didn’t quite understand it, but Frost didn’t either.

“Before I went through the door I saw your robe,” you explained. “That’s why I went through it, I thought you did.”

He hummed at that, his brows knitting once more. “Did you see yourself in the reflection?”

“Not that I noticed, no.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, looking up towards the sky as the snow fell. “Maybe the ‘glass eye’ didn’t see you at all.”

You didn’t know what exactly to say to that. You would admit that you weren’t exactly the smartest cookie of the pack, but you admired Frost for how smart he was. You looked down at your feet, feeling the soaked wetness in your shoes. Gross.

“The trees are up ahead,” Frost said, making you look up. The talking really helped pass the time, and the trees were maybe another hundred feet ahead easy. “When we get there, I will immediately try to get a fire going once we find a good place to camp.”

You nodded, starting to feel the iced air in the back of your throat. You hoped your throat wouldn’t get sore.

Entering the treeline, pine trees stood tall above you both. Pine trees, of all trees? Wouldn’t they be spruce? You thought it was a little peculiar, but at least they were full and created a small canopy above a good 50 feet.

Frost immediately scooped up some dead pine needles from their piles along the forest floor, snow still littered about around you both. He then pranced to the park and tore some off, feeling it between his paw pads before stuffing it under his bare arm.

“Let’s camp here,” he said, scraping stray pine needles and snow out until he found the bare ground. Cresting a large vacant circle, he tossed the driest dead pine needles in the center with the bark surrounding the top. “We have all of the lumber we need here, the canopy can act as our shelter for now unless the storm begins to get worse.”

He tore some more bark from the tree, casually glancing around the forest floor or up in the trees. You figured he was looking for branches, though the pine trees were too high and nothing laid on the snow but the fallen pine needles.

You copied his movement, using your foot to make a spot for you to sit without snow in your way. You were shivering much more now, the cold wetness at your feet and shins, along with the ends of the robe and quilt that dragged along the snow nipping at your legs.

Frost easily started the fire, the warmth springing to life gleefully. Frost gathered a lot of bark from the trees, making sure there would be enough to maintain the warmth of the fire.

“It will be dark soon,” Frost spoke, setting his bag beside you. “It will also be much colder. Take off your shoes and socks.”

“What?” You were surprised by the bluntness he had, blinking as he gave you his deadpanned expression.

“They’re wet,” he said monotonously. “You’ll get frostbite if they freeze on your feet.”

Oh, right.

You did as you were told, freeing your feet to introduce them to the chilled wind around you. You sat them close to the fire, not too close to where you or your footwear would catch flame. It felt nice, as stressful as this whole situation was.

Frost dug into his pack once more, his tail swaying this way and that. His ears were turned back, the eyes of his tiger eyes facing you. Was he.. irritated? You weren’t quite sure.

Eventually, after some clattering and then some, Frost brought out a small rolled up sack. His tail swished, he inspected it and then hummed. “I only have one tent,” he explained. “I thought I had more, but they’re.. missing.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we stayed in the same one anyway?” You inquired, meeting the eyes of the golden-eyed tabaxi. You realized how embarrassing it was to say that without context. “C-Cause of the cold? More heat in the tent with two people instead of one right? You said it would get colder.”

The tabaxi nodded in agreement, setting the bag down and reaching into the bag again. “You’re right, I should have thought about that,” he said, head inside the bag. Why was his bag so deep? “The only other concern is I only have one sleeping bag.” He pulled the roll off of the top of his bag that you assumed was the sleeping bag, another smaller blanket in tow with his hand that had been buried in the bag.

“Oh,” you croaked out, blinking. Huh. I guess that makes sense, the group doesn’t usually sleep in tents or sleeping bags for him to have more than one of each. “Do you need help setting up?”

“No,” he gestured to the fire before turning around to the tent bag. “You need to dry your feet and footwear first and foremost. We can’t risk frostbite.”

He began to unfold the tent and set it up from memory, no instruction in sight. You stared at the fire.

You missed your other friends. How long have you two been gone? Did they go through the same door? Or were they in the same manor?

“Frost?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you go through the door?”

Frost glanced over from his half built tent, the fire crackling in the paused silence. “While we were talking, we had all realized after a few minutes that you weren’t there anymore. I went back to retrace our steps to hopefully find you, Kremy and Gideon went with me while the others stuck together where we left them.” He balanced the top, then his tail flicked in satisfaction as the tent was finished.

“Where are Kremy and Gideon?” You asked, looking out towards the direction you both had come from.

“They went through the door.” he said, grabbing the sleeping bag.

“The same door we went through?” You blinked and looked at him confused, watching as he rolled out the sleeping back on top of the small blanket.

“Yes,” he said, flattening the bag. “But in the frame I saw Kremy’s purple suit, and I didn’t see Gideon’s flame at all. When the door closed it didn’t have a hue anymore, until I stepped in front of it and it was green. That’s when I noticed the door engraving, and that’s when I walked through.” He walked over and sat beside you, an arm length away.

“The mirror had a green hue when I walked through,” you said. “I saw your robe in it.”

He nodded, looking at the fire. “Hm.”

The sound of the crackling fire filled the silence that came in tow, and the warmth in your feet helped you feel satisfied. You felt your shoes and socks and they were still soggy, which made you frown.

Frost fed the fire, encouraging it to grow larger.

“Have you noticed that there isn’t any wild life around?” He asked suddenly, never looking away from the fire.

“What?”

“There’s no birds,” he said. “And there’s no sign of any animals walking in the snow other than us.”

Looking around, you realized he was right. You were a little confused as to what that meant to him, to you it meant less worry about a pack of dire wolves or a wild owlbear.

“That’s good, right?”

“That means we won’t be able to find much food,” he explained, glancing over to you. “Unless there are some wild berries in the area somewhere.”

“Oh..” you looked down, holding the quilt tighter. You hadn’t thought about food. You didn’t feel hungry, at least not right now.

What you did feel, however, was the heaviness in your eyes. Soon after you realized the heaviness, you felt the cold much more than before. You then realized how dark it was now, and that the fire and the night sky above was all you had for light.

“We should get some rest,” Frost spoke in a cooled tone.. “We have a long day tomorrow, surveying our area and trying to find some food. I have some rations in my bag, but only for three days. We also need to find a way to go.”

You tiredly nodded, looking at your shoes. You grabbed some bark from the pile Frost had made beside you and tossed it into the fire, watching the embers fly.

Climbing into the tent, Frost in tow, you were ready to lay on the ground until Frost held your shoulder. “Take the sleeping bag,” he said. “It’s a lot warmer. I’ll sleep on the ground.”

“Won’t you actually get cold then?” You asked, frowning when he started to close the tent opening.

“No,” he said, sitting on the empty side of the tent with his legs crossed. “I’m used to the environment.”

~~~

God, it was so fucking cold. How hasn’t Frost started shivering yet?

The both of you had been hiking the forest for hours now. You were searching for anything at all, food or signs of life. All you guys could find was snow, trees, a river, and mountains.

Nothing.

“Frost,” you called out. “What’s the plan?”

The tabaxi ahead of you stopped and turned to you, no look of concern much at all. “I think we should try the river, there might be fish in it.”

“Do we have something to kill them with?” You looked out past the array of trees to the flat field of snow, the river at the base of the mountain in the distance. “Like a spear?”

Frost turned to keep walking, and you stumbled in tow. “I have my mage hand,” he said calmly. “I can pick it up and crush its mind.”

Duh. You thought to yourself, completely forgetting about that. Who needs weapons to hunt when you have Morning Frost? With his.. weird mind crushing ability..

You felt your head.

Walking from the tree line, the vast of snow looked the same in every direction. The mountain was to the right of you, and the river down below.

With the warmth of Frost’s robe and the quilt, it was a lot easier for you to manage the cold. You’d have to let your shoes dry by the fire again tonight, but at least your body was mostly warm.

“Do you think everyone else is okay?” You asked, looking up at the feline.

You were worried about Gideon and Kremy, wondering where they went, and how Gricko and Torbek and Hootsie and Twig were doing in the manor.. if they were even there at all. You gulped, thinking about how Kremy wouldn’t last the night due to hyperthermia no matter how much fire Gideon gave.

“Everyone will be fine,” he said with a hint of output confidence. “Gideon and Kremy have adventured through snowy terrain before, and Gricko and Torbek and Twig promised to stay put until we all came back.”

You didn’t feel very confident about that last bit. You were sure someone of that group would have wondered off by now out of boredom, or just plain defiance, and got lost.

“I guess,” you frowned, trying to spot a landmark for where you were. “But I’m still worried about everyone.”

Frost nodded, glancing over to you. His tail flicked towards you, an ear swiveling your way. “I understand your fear, but I have confidence in our friends.”

You nodded, huffing a breath in response. You couldn’t argue with Frost, and you knew he was trying to stay optimistic, as pessimistic as he usually is. You wanted to believe in them too.

Inching closer to the river, the mountain grew taller. The ice looked plastic, a blue hue throughout its sheet. The river roared, steam rolling upward as the temperature difference between the two battled. It was really pretty.

Frost sat his bag down, rummaging in his bag again. Humming, he pulled out a retractable staff. You blinked, not knowing what its original, or current, purpose was.

“Please, stand back,” he warned, tapping the ice with the end of the staff. “We don’t know if the ice is secure for our body weights, I’d much rather you stay on land.”

“I can help you know,” you whined a little, feeling pretty useless. “What can I do?”

Frost kept tapping the ice, resting his foot on the first step. The ice settled on his weight, than he completely stood on it. It was rock solid and safe.

“I will see if there are any fish,” he said, looking back. “If there is, I will slide them across the ice in your direction. Shove as many of them as you can into the bag, don’t worry about getting anything wet, it won’t be.” Gee, how helpful were you.. but it was something at least.

As you nodded, he adventured out deeper onto the ice. You were nervous with every sound from the ice you heard, worried he’d fall in. He took his time, tapping the ice in spots to make sure he stayed on solid ice. He was very skilled at it, and you weren’t very surprised.

You admired Frost, he was very charming. You also found him.. very nice looking. As you watched him walk on the ice, you realized just how nicely toned his frame was. He was fit, yet not too muscular. He was tall, shorter than Gideon but taller than Kremy, and his tail was always moving. When you looked at Frost you could picture his nicely defined face with his fluffed cheeks and tiger beard with soft golden eyes.

You didn’t really think about how handsome he really was until now. Such an odd realization at a very odd time, you thought.

As he found himself at the edge of the ice, you stood on your tippy-toes in anticipation. He looked into the river, looking left, right and forward.

“Do you see any?” You called out, hoping to any god in this forsaken land that there were.

You watched Frost’s ears twitch at your call, even from so far away. You knew he heard you by how his tail flicked to the right, but he never looked back. He looked at the water, then bent down closer while still atop the ice. You grew more nervous, worried he’d fall in.

Then his ears drew back and flattened, and his tail fell and snaked around. He looked left and right again.

“Frost?” You called out, a little scared now.

“I see the swamp,” you heard Frost in your mind. “In the river, the reflection isn’t the mountain or the snow. It’s just the swamp.”

~~~

The both of you were looking over the edge of this ice into this swamp for a while now. The farther down or up the river you guys went there were no fish, but there was a swamp.

“Frost I’m confused..” you murmured, clutching the quilt. “There’s no animals.. there’s no berries.. and the river has a swamp in it.”

Frost has been staring at the river for ages now. He looked stone faced, though with hints of anger and confusion. His tail was snaking around the area by his feet still, but his ears were back in place.

“I am rather confused as well,” he admitted. “Is the river magical as well?” He hummed, then suddenly began to his knees and lean into the river. You reached out to him, but just as you thought he’d dip his head in he brought his paw up and pushed it into the river.

You both watched as he sat it there for a minute, then pulled it out. He inspected his hand, then looked back into the river. Now he just had a wet paw, and the river was the same reflection of a swamp.

You got down on your knees beside him, watching as he spiraled into deep thought. You took the quilt and began to hold his paw in it, rubbing it and breathing hot air against it to warm it up.

Frost looked at you quizzically, not stopping the process. “You’ll get frostbite,” you said softly, meeting his eyes with a softened gaze. “You need to stay dry.”

Frost nodded in agreement, letting you continue to dry his paw. He sat down completely, using his free hand to rub his chin in thought. Staring out into the depths of the swamp river, there was silence between the both of you.

What could you say to cheer the tabaxi up? He seemed much more concerned than usual, and when he showed concern it only meant something bad. You wanted to help him relax. Sure this was really weird, but what could you do? You didn’t have any leads right now, you couldn’t get too wrapped up in these things.

“Let’s go and set up camp,” you offered softly, holding his paw between your hands in the quilt. “We can think about it when we’re warm and we eat.”

Frost looked at your trembling frame, then his paw. He sighed softly and nodded, laying his forehead in your hands for just a moment before standing up. He offered you a hand, which you obliged in taking, and he helped you up.

Frost grabbed his bag, lifting it over his shoulders and tossed it to his back. He looked to the left and then the right. “We came from the left,” he said. “It looks like there is another tree line to the right, let’s go there.”

You nodded, sticking close to his side to try to get some some warmth from him. With the damp quilt it was a little harder to stay warm now. Frost seemed to notice this, his tail brushing your leg before he offered his now dried paw.

You looked up at him, watching as he very barely smiled at you. You felt some heat rise to your cheeks and quickly looked towards the trees. Taking his paw, he kept your hand warm the entire way on this very long silent walk to the tree line.

You felt like you were getting closer to the tabaxi, like something was stirring in that mind of his. And maybe a little in yours too.

Nearing the tree line, you looked around and then back to from where you came. It looked really familiar. You looked at Frost, who you realized noticed it too.

“Did we go the right way?” You asked, gripping his paw a little tighter.

“I’m sure of it,” he said, squeezing your hand in reassurance. “My sense of direction isn’t off. I’m sure it just looks familiar because we are tired.”

You knew that was a load of shit. Frost’s tail flicks and twitching ears gave him away. You didn’t say anything. He was trying to give some hope.

You hugged his arm, holding his hand. It was getting colder and colder. The sun was setting, as hard as it was for you to really tell. You swore the temperature drops every hour. The fog from your breaths got thicker and bigger.

Your feet were hurting so badly now. They throbbed and started to almost burn. It was progressive, and you had ignored it for a pretty long time. Now they were starting to swell in your shoes.

“F-Frost,” you breathed out, causing the tabaxi to concerningly look down. “My feet burn..”

Instantly the tabaxi picked you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. “I apologize,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “We need to get your feet dry immediately so I’m going to have to run.”

“What?” Before you could get an answer the tabaxi was already jogging towards the tree line, the bag bouncing on his back and his grip on you firm. You curled up, the cold wind hitting you. You hid in his warm chest, shivering as he tried to shield you the best he could.

Frost was very fit to be carrying you and his 70 pound bag behind him in a jog. You were very impressed, but more so in pain.

When you made it to the treeline he immediately used his feet to sweep the forest floor of snow. He laid you down and laid the bag next to you. You whined, your hands where the water had been in the quilt were starting to burn too.

“Please hold tight,” Frost said, hopping around you and gathering the bark off of the pine tree close by and then dead pine needles. Skillfully, he lit a small fire, more concerned about your frostbite than warmth.

He walked over and helped you take off your shoes and socks, setting them by the fire and then picking you up and setting you by the fire next. He went back over the to tree to your right, took more bark, and began to feed the fire of fuel.

Your feet were extremely red, much like a tomato. They still throbbed and ached severely, but they were much better out of your shoes. You put your hands up to the fire to help your hands as well.

You let out a sigh of relief. Thank god! Warmth!

Frost stood beside you and held his paw out. “I think we should let the quilt sit by the fire too.”

You nodded and he took it from your shoulders. He folded it neatly and placed it by the fire side, and your shoulders were greeted by the cold breeze.

“I think it’s getting colder,” you said gazing into the fire. “And faster..”

Frost didn’t say anything. He went to his pack and opened it, digging inside and bringing out some rations he had. He gave you one and then sat beside you, holding his in his paws.

You were so thankful for Frost. If it wasn’t for him you probably would have died on the first day to hyperthermia. You know he says he’s used to the terrain, but you were curious about how. He never exactly talked about his past.

You looked up at him to see that his eyes were closed. You looked at his arms and noticed that they were twitching just slightly where the stray snow stayed. You reached up and gently brushed him off, his tail flicking in acknowledgement, until he was clear.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, eyes still closed. He looked so peaceful like that, calm. You looked at his hands in his lap and realized he was meditating. You looking back up at his arms and couldn’t help but think how soft they looked, and how warm they probably were.

You leaned into him, holding his robe around you desperately for warmth. You laid your face against his nicely toned bicep, feeling the soft fur against your cheek. You heard a chuff-like sound come from Frost.

He was warm.

The two of you stayed like that in silence for a little while. You were thinking about the rest of the group, how you wondered if they were okay and alive. Then you wondered about the swamp reflection in the river, it was so odd.

Then you thought about the door. The colors of the mirror fram. Then you thought about the snow.

“Frost, you said you are familiar with the snowy terrain right?” You asked, sitting up and looking up to him quizzically. “Why?”

Frost opened his eyes and looked down to you, curious. “I grew up in the snowy mountains after being taken from my parents. I became a sourcerer in the terrain. Why?”

You got to your knees, held his arm and leaning more towards him. “Kremy talks about growing up in the swamp all the time,” you bounced. “Kremy became a warlock there too probably!”

Frost looked at you curiously, then his brows raised. “The door took us to the terrain that is centered around us, what made us what we are,” Frost’s ears perked and his tail danced. “The door’s hue was it seeing where we’d end up, and the door saw me first before you went in-“

“And the door saw Kremy first before Gideon went in! Frost! Maybe the river is actually like a glass wall and we can see into each others realms?” You bounced up to your feet, even though they still ached. “What if Kremy and Gideon are there? Do you think we could communicate with them somehow through the water?”

Frost smiled, then he plucked you up by your hips—earning a rise of extreme heat to your cheeks and neck—and sat you back down. “I think you’re right,” he nodded. “But it’s late now. We should wait until tomorrow.”

You whined a little, which made Frost chuckle. You hugged his arm and nuzzled into it as a sort of victory cheer, and he accepted it.

“Let me make the tent,” he said, placing a paw on your head gently. “Then we can rest and get up early in the morning.”

You nodded and watched as the tabaxi got up with a lighter bounce in his step. You were happy that he was seeing a little more hope than before. As the sun fell, the stars started to shine overhead. You looked up to watch them, the fire dancing in the night.

You noticed the patch of missing bark from a pine tree a few rows away. You looked at Frost quietly, his back turned to you.

He had taken the bark off of the tree next to you to make this fire.

~~~

You woke up shivering. You breathed out a desperate attempt to get warm, then sat up. The tent flap was partially open and the fire was out. Frost was outside, shivering as the snow fell harder onto him, the canopy no longer sheltering the area. He was trying to relight the fire, trying to get some warmth.

“F-F-Frost,” you breathed, shaking viciously. He looked over to you, seemingly disappointed that you woke up. “P-Please-e.. insi-ide..”

“I need to g-get the fire,” Frost frowned. “Give m-me a few minutes.”

You curled up in the tent tightly, trying to focus on staying warm. You listened outside, hearing the wind grow stronger. After a while you heard something being thrown against one of the trees, and a few moments soon after the tent opening and closing.

You opened your eyes to see the silhouette of Frost. He sat the no longer damp quilt on top of you and sat your shoes and socks to the side. With the lack of cold air rushing in, you didn’t feel as freezing.

“F-Frost,” you reached for him as he was about to walk away. He paused where he was then turned towards you. “Please st-tay..”

He watched how you shivered. His irritated tail flicks mellowed, and his flattened ears straightened. He took a deep breath then nodded, walking back over to you and kneeling.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked softly, watching you carefully in the dimmed light.

Overcome with coldness, you really just wanted one thing from him.

“P-please hold me..” you requested. “I’m so c-cold..” reaching out to him he took your hand in his paws and nodded, looking at the sleeping bag and then laying beside you.

You curled up and buried yourself into his chest. If you weren’t so cold, you’d be embarrassed and hot in the face. Now it’s all you wanted for some warmth. It was soft, warm, and tender.

Frost wrapped his arms around you, his head resting on top of yours and his tail wrapping around your waist over the sleeping bag. You felt him shiver here and there for a while, but after a while he stopped.

Both of you finally began to feel some warmth, and eventually the sleeping bag was a little too hot for you. You wiggled out of your sleeping bag, only then realizing Frost was half asleep when you did. “Sorry,” you whispered, sliding out of the bag and throwing the quilt over the both of you, earning a tired half-assed grunt from the sleepy tiger.

You curled up in his arms, in return he curled around you for warmth. You felt his breathing slow, and you felt his tail relax completely. As you were dozing off, Frost very softly snored with a very light rumble in his chest.

You smiled and nuzzled his chest.

And he said tigers couldn’t purr.

When you woke up next you saw sunlight through the tent sheets. You yawned and sleepily hummed. The tabaxi still hadn’t moved from his spot, and the rise and fall from his chest was the same slow pattern. The tabaxi’s soft snores still surrounded you.

You knew Frost usually liked to get up early to meditate, but you figured he was too comfortable. You definitely were.

You were very warm wrapped up in the sorcerer's arms, a little toasty even. You weren’t complaining, it was so much better than the weather outside. However, you were ready to get up and try to talk to Kremy through the river.

You gently pushed against Frost’s chest, earning an ear and tail flick. The next little plush earned a tighter embrace and a small huff of defiance. The third you earned a huff and experienced the pleasure of seeing his eyes flutter open. He blinked a few times and then hummed groggily.

“Morning,” you smiled up at him. “How’d you sleep big guy?”

He hummed again sleepily, then let out a big yawn. Your eyes widened as you were shown his large sharp teeth and his huge tongue. You were glad he didn’t fight with his mouth at all.

Frost sleepily hummed away, the feeling of his claws flexing just slightly into your back prickled you in a very good way. He nuzzled his face into your hair and closed his eyes again. Humming once more, he responded. “Very well.”

His voice was easily an octave deeper and heavily groggy in a sleepy tone. You had to blink a few times to register that it was still the same Frost you fell asleep by. Before you could register how attractive his sleepy voice was, he opened his mouth again. “Mm,” his hum deep in his chest. “May I groom your head?” You blinked, surprised by the inquiry, but nodded. With another deep chested hum, you were met with the tabaxi’s sandpaper tongue on your head.

You were surprised to feel the tired tabaxi grooming your messy hair back. His eyes were half lidded and the rumble on his chest was prominent. His tail curled around the both of you and he hummed, grooming away.

Was he aware of what he was doing? Probably not. But god was this such a rare moment and god were you not gonna fuck it up. You smiled as you let this happen, your heart beating out of your chest with glee.

God he’s so hot right now.

~~~

“Do you see them?” You called out, glancing up from the river reflection towards 20 feet down the iced shoreline to the tiger tabaxi. His tail flicked as he never looked up.

“No,” he responded in your mind, his voice a patient monotone. “Yourself?” He peered over towards your direction, his partially lidded golden eyes waiting for a response. You could only offer a meek shake of your head.

The both of you had been searching high and low in the river reflection for 2 hours now. It was colder than the last few days, and even Frost was having troubles with the climate. If the both of you didn’t die of starvation first, there was definitely hyperthermia creeping closer.

Frost made his way towards you, his strides long to reach you faster as you stood, slightly slipping on the ice below. Your teeth were clattering together, your breath heavy and your body almost spasming to try to keep the blood flowing.

Frost rubbed your arms through the quilt and robe, trying to stimulate some warmth to you, as cold as his paw pads were. He carefully pulled you to his furred chest, rubbing your back as he hummed in thought.

As much as you loved his warmth, it was beginning to not be enough. Even he was starting to slowly freeze, and you could tell. You guys didn’t have much time, you both knew it.

“Mayhaps it would be better to create some signs for them to read when they come across the reflection,” Frost suggested. “I believe I have the materials, we can spread them along the river shoreline and the edge of the ice.”

“T-The shoreline?” You muttered into the fur of his chest, the fur reacting to the warmth of your breath by twitching. The ice was thick on the shoreline, there was no way you could see through it to the actual river.

“Mayhaps they can’t see where we are, or we can’t see them, because we are near the middle of the water while in the swamp they wouldn’t have ice at all,” Frost explained. “I may be able to break some patches in the ice, enough for the sign to be seen. We can’t be too careful.”

All you could do was hum, melting into the soft fur that twitched with every breath of yours. You were freezing, your feet began to burn again. You were getting so tired, your eyelids bobbing.

“May I lift you?” He asked softly, keeping his paws in place. You tiredly nodded, wanting the relief for your aching feet.

You felt the tabaxi’s paws wonder, finding them on the backs of your thighs before he easily lifts you up off the ground, resting your thighs around his hips and supporting your back as they wrapped. You let it happen, too cold to make a comment or noise of protest. You trusted him.

“I believe it’s best you stay at the campsite,” he said, head resting on yours. “I’ll handle the river and continue to search.”

You let out a sound that sounded like a mix between a hum of acknowledgement and a sickened groan. You felt Frost’s grip tighten onto your back as he started to jog along the thickened ice. You heard a crunch or two, though wasn’t sure if it was ice chunks from the snow piles forming on top or the ice that seperated the both of you from the chilled waters before. You were too tired to care.

The last three days have been life altering for your relationship with the sorcerer. Before the manor, your relationship with him was a well rounded friend; companions. The most you did was hug, talk about some heavy things occasionally, and only sometimes join the night sleeping pile when it was time for the group to turn in with no danger in sight. You were often bundled up next to Hootsie more than anyone, but you felt like that’s changed now.

While the both of you freeze like popsicles, you can’t help but feel your heart skip a few beats when Frost’s eyes linger a bit too long, or when his hooked claw clips the robe he gave to you to borrow, or when the brush of his fur ghosts fast your skin.

You were noticing all of the admirable things he did for you, around you, for others. Maybe.. you had these feelings for a while and you’re only just realizing that they’re only getting stronger.

“{y/n},” you hummed and adjusted your arms between the both of you, trying to find the best place for them to bake in warmth. “Don’t fall asleep, did you hear me?” His voice was firm and a little worn from the ice in the wind.

“I hear you now,” you moved your head up to hide into his neck, his head adjusting so you had room. “But I’m so tired..”

“You could die from hyperthermia if you fall asleep,” he sterned. “Your body temperature will drop, and feeling tired is one of the most dangerous symptoms of the development of hyperthermia. Do not fall asleep.” His voice thickened, and the smell of granola and cashew from the last of the rations were breathed in as he adjusted his grip onto you.

“Mmm..” was all you could muster. You were hungry, and you were tired. All you wanted was to curl up with Frost and sleep.

It’s all you wanted.

As you completely relaxed into the tabaxi, you felt your consciousness slip to sleep. Until, at least, you were met with a claw dug into your lower back.

“Ow!” You whined, jumping slight and reacting by reaching behind yourself, finding the tabaxi’s paw right where the sharp pain resided. “Ow ow! Frost cut it out!”

“Please forgive me,” he said, frowning prominent in his tone. “You were dozing. You can’t sleep.” He rubbed the sore spot he pricked you with, an unidentifiable huff rushing out of his nose.

As the canopy above shadowed over the both of you, Frost sat you down. He rushed to make a large fire, which caused some difficulty with the larger chilled winds. Taking longer than normal, you could tell the tabaxi was stressed. Right as you shuffled to try and help somehow, the pine needles caught and the flame grew.

“Please keep it strong,” Frost said gently, jogging to his bag that had resided in your temporary stationed tent. Hearing him rummage through his belongings, you took your shoes and socks off in routine. “I will be back in 2 hours to check on you. Do not fall asleep and stay by the fire. If anything happens I want you to blow this whistle.”

He walked over to you, his large paws softly thumping across the forest floor with littered snow. He held out a bright hunters orange whistle with a small rope at the end. It was too small for the tabaxi to wear around his neck, and too big for his wrist, but you figured it was big enough for you to wear around your neck and take off when needed without struggle.

Placing it around your neck, you glanced over towards his bag again. “Frost, what don’t you have in that bag?”

Frost’s feline ‘lips’ moved slightly towards a smile, his tail snaking around in a positive attribution. “A body,” he replied, his attempt of humor only really understood because of knowing him the way you do. It makes you laugh a little. “I carry around many essentials or things I think may be handy along our travels.”

He walks to his bag and lifts it, wrapping it around to his back and adjusting. “I’ll be back in two hours,” he spoke, his tone back to complete neutral. “Please stay safe.”

“You too,” you said, offering him a small smile. “Don’t fall in.” The tabaxi nodded, tail flicking towards the fire as a silent reminder to keep your eye on it.

Then he walked away, the snow falling behind him, enveloping him into the white shadows.

You were alone.

~~~

Frost’s paws crunched under the growing snow. The snow was falling heavier, his vision becoming impaired due to the density it was growing to be. He felt the snow trickle to his fur and melt, the skin underneath feeling the wetness.

He didn’t like being wet.

Without you by his side he noticed his body was a lot more tense. Mayhaps from worry, mayhaps from the lack of warmth you gave standing so close.

Making the signs and placing them deep in the ice and snow, Frost thought hard. All he could think about was how he could get the both of you out of this. You must still be in the manor, in the same room. That part was obvious to him.

The terrain was repeated, it was the same mountain and river and tree line. Depending on the direction you went, the river and mountain were either in the left or right side. There was always trees no matter how forward you walked. The sides never seemed to change. No matter how far left you walked, the mountain never got smaller.

An illusions room? Frost thought it was possible. The growing storm, however, made Frost doubt himself. Wouldn’t an illusion need help to keep the illusion there? Magic only did so much, there had to be something else. Mayhaps someone who lived in this manor had ice magicks, someone who was pouring ice into the room slowly.

That was possible, though then wouldn’t you or Frost have found the footprints in the snow? Wouldn’t you have found some sort of evidence of someone else being there already from the past 3 days you were there? Maybe the mountain? But the snow was too dense now to see to the mountain, nonetheless from the mountain to where Frost was now.

A sharp coldness stung Frost’s feet pads through his shoes, a surprised jump erupting from the tabaxi. He lifted his foot and hopped to the side, looking down.

There was water on top of the ice.

Frost narrowed his eyes a little, observing as the puddle slowly, yet noticeably, started to get larger.

The ice was.. melting? But the temperature was dropping.

He looked up at the sky. The sun wasn’t even showing because of the growing snow.

Then he saw red.

His eyes widened as the spot below him, the ice, turned to a red, then an orange, a yellow. He teleported to the shoreline, narrowly missing the plume of flame erupting from the ice—the water?—where the smoke of green lingered from when he teleported.

“Frost!”

His ears perked, the burst of fire warming his body even from the distance away that he was. The voice was faint, it was grained. It was Kremy.

“Frost…water!!! It’s…pane…like a…fuck…look...!!” Frost couldn’t quite understand behind the mix of the boiling water and ice around the fire, the roar of the fire itself, and the iced wind picking up.

He tried to reach out with his mind to reach Kremy. “Kremy, I can’t understand you, respond to me in your mind.” Frost prayed it worked. He didn’t understand much that was going on, but if the four of them had to work together between rooms and communicate through each other for them to get out..

It was like an escape room.

“The water is a barrier,” Frost heard Kremy say. “It’s like a glass pane! It’s like a divider between our rooms, and for fucks sakes look above you!!”

Frost was confused, until he looked up in the sky where the fire started to die.

Just behind the haze of the snow was a glistening glass eye staring right at Frost.

~~~

The lack of Frost’s warmth and calming nature really made your thoughts spiral. You hoped he was okay, you hoped he found Kremy and Gideon in the river reflection. And god, you hoped someone found a way out.

You watched the fire, tossing a chunk of torn pine bark onto the flame.

You had admired Frost before all of this, but as the days went by your admiration grew. Before when he’d hold you due to the cold, comfort, or greeting, it wouldn’t last longer than a second and your heart never skipped a beat like it does now. He always smelled nice, but now that you’ve been much closer to him you grew accustomed to the forest musk in his fur. His eyes looked much more gold up close, more defined.

The more you thought about the way he moved during combat, the more you thought about the way his tail sways and his eyes narrow in observation, the way he jokes with the group in his forever monotone voice, the way he smiles only slightly.. you felt butterflies.

Surely the tabaxi wouldn’t feel the same. You were merely friends, you always have been. He never looked at you with anything more than concern and respect towards you throughout your time together. He would mind his hands, ask for permission before anything at all, never lingering his hands outside of his jurisdiction. He only held you when you asked, he only ever treated you with platonics.

You started to find yourself thinking about how his sandpaper tongue would feel along your shoulders and neck, how his deep chested purr would feel against your head as you lay on his chest. You wanted to feel his cheeks graze against yours, the whiskers tickling your nose. You wanted to kiss him, the whiskers tickling your face like little kisses sparking from the lipped center.

You wondered what else you could learn from the tabaxi, as his lover.

The chilled air blew, the fire shrinking slightly from the attack. You tried to move in a direction that would block the wind, then the wind changed. You decided to just throw more pine needles and bark, hoping it would uphold to the horrendous conditions.

It’s been about 2 hours, you were sure Frost would be back any minute now. The cold was getting worse, even by the fire you were struggling. Frost would surely be trembling when he gets back.

Hearing the crunch of snow you relaxed. Speak of the devil.

You tossed some more bark into the fire, shivering at the sudden burst of icy wind. Hearing the crunches of snow come to a stop, you turned around towards Frost.

Instead, you were met with an unfamiliar pair of legs hovering right behind you. Your eyes widened, following the legs to the torso, to the head.

This.. wasn’t Frost.

“W-What-“ you stumbled backwards, the pile of bark toppling over and some igniting in the fire. The figure stepped forward, you stumbled back again, trying to fight to stand.

Glancing down as you hurried up, you noticed the figure’s footsteps were quickly covered by snow. It was like they never existed. No trace.

You swallowed and looked up at the figure’s face, trying to identify the person before you. They wore snow white clothes, boots and a large winter coat with a furred rim of the hood. They had on reflective goggles, a large designed eye right in the middle. Everything of this person was covered in white, specks of dusted snow falling off the gear they had.

“Frost!!” You fruitlessly screamed, watching at the figure reaching for something on their belt. You didn’t waste time, turning and running as fast as your aching legs could take you. You abandoned the blanket, running in bare feet with the robe of the tabaxi flying behind as you ran.

You dodged the trees, running through them without looking back. You had to find Frost, you didn’t know what to do. You never even suspected someone else could have been there with the both of you, why would you? There wasn’t even a sign.

The sound of metal chains filled your ears behind the wind, forcing your eyes to trail behind you. The figure was calmly walking, holding onto some sort of chain that came from their belt. At the end of the chain they held up seemed to be something weighted. The figure swung it to their side, tilting their head side to side as you’d dodge trees.

Then they threw it unexpectedly, almost as if it was teleported. You yelped, ducking behind a tree just in time due to the minimal heads up of the sound of chains. A loud shink filled your ear. You looked at the side of the tree where your head had just been, ice growing onto the tree where the blade resided.

It was a scythe. They had a kusarigama, a really really long one. You barely remember about it, but Frost talked about it once. You wished you listened better.

You took off faster into the woods, zig-zagging the terrain to hopefully deter the aim of the figure. You didn’t know what they wanted, but assuming they tried to kill you it was most likely to do just that.

“Frost!!!” You screamed out into the woods, trying your best to echo through the winds so he’d hear you. “Frost where are you!?”

A blade grazed your calf, ice quickly growing where the wound opened, causing you to yelp and faulter slightly. You stumbled back up, the adrenaline carrying you. The end of the other side roped around the thin trunk of pine just as you dove into the next line, the blade snaking into your thigh. The ice that grew was stained red awfully fast.

You screamed, reaching down to grab the handle and yank it out in a dizzy faze. You felt tears well in your eyes, watching as the blood dripped and painted the pristine white below. The pain pounding through you, you let the adrenaline carry you once more.

Run. It was all you could think. Run.

“Frost please!!!” You cried, running for the terrain of open snow, hoping he’d be on his way there. Maybe he’d see you as you run. He might hear you better if you run for the river, he might still be there.

You glanced behind you as you stumbled into the open field. All there was was the dark pine forest, the rows high and strong. The figure was no where to be seen.

With no sign of danger, you felt the adrenaline give way. The fear and dazed confusion forced tears to flow down your cheeks. What the hell was happening? The pain in your legs, your feet, were pulsing as your heart raced.

“Frost!!!” You screamed in desperation, the shock of someone trying to kill you overwhelming your senses. You were crying, shaking from fear and cold, and in so much pain.

Were you going to die here?

You looked towards the river, the silhouette of it slowly disappearing as the snow fell harder. Looking one more time behind you, you started to run as fast as you could to the river. Your legs begged you to stop, to lay down and bleed. Your feet cried for warmth, cried for compassion.

You couldn’t.

Seeing the river grow closer, you pushed yourself farther. Your legs started buckling, refusing. You pushed.

“Frost!!!” You screamed.

You heard a crunch behind you. Whipping around, you let out a choked sob. Your trail of blood painted the white canvas, painted your indenting demise. The figure was there already, was already so close.

They were a shadow in the storm, though they quickly became more defined. As the both of you connected in sight, you watched them start to spin the scythe of the end of the chain. You let out a meek whimper, turning back around to meekly struggle and desperately attempt for the river.

“Frost!!!” You screamed again, desperation in your voice.

Your legs gave up on you. They were cold, in pain. They couldn’t handle the conditions. Your adrenaline faded away as hopelessness took its place.

Falling into the snow, you choking crawled towards the river. The ice was below you now. It was cold, sticky. Your blood painted its crystallized glaze.

“Frost please..” you weakly begged. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, no matter how many fell down your hot cheeks.

What an anticlimactic way to die.

You heard a crunch of ice. Slowly you turned to your back, looking up as the figure stood over you. Their head tilted to the side, observing your hopeless state. They caught the swinging scythe and placed it on their belt.

“What do you want..” you meekly demanded. “Why are you here!? Who the hell are you!?” They tilted their head to the opposite side. “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” You screamed, tears streaming faster.

They stared at you. Slowly, they bent down at your feet, one knee on the ice and the other at 90 degrees. You tried to crawl away, though they grabbed your iced calf and pulled you back.

“Where is Frost..” you sobbed to the figure. “Where is my friend? What did you do to my friend..”

They tilted their head to the side again, opposite to its current position. They inched closer to your face, almost as if they were observing you. The eye in the middle of their protective goggles bore into you, your breath hitching.

“Encased future visions portal the embedded facade,” a murky, deep graveled voice crept from behind the mask of the figure. The fog of cold flew into the wind. “Glassed eyes watch the facade break in your past.”

“What the hell are you saying.. I don’t understand!” You cried, trying again to crawl away from your pursuer.

“Encased future visions portal the embedded facade,” they grabbed your face and pulled you up. You kicked though failed to get to the danger. “Glassed eyes watch the facade break in your past.”

“I don’t speak riddles!!!” You cried. “Please!! Let me out of here!! I want Morning Frost!! I want him here and I want us out!!!” You begged, pleading the mercenary.

They pushed your face back, your support failing as you fall to the ice. You coughed and looked up at the figure stood over you, reaching for the scythe on their belt.

“No!!” You cried, lifting your arms in papered defense. “Please I just want my friends!! Please!”

They lifted their scythe up, head tilting one last time. You tried to crawl away, listening to the chains chime the bells of death. You closed your eyes.

“Ugk-“

You opened your eyes and looked where the figure was, watching as they flung themselves backwards and into the snow. Another figure was behind them, falling with them on top.

“Frost!” You breathed, watching as the tabaxi’s paws extended and claws came out. His claws grabbed the figure’s protected face, scratching the goggles and the eye that bore into the snow sky.

The offender grabbed their scythe butt and rammed it into Frost’s rib side underneath them, making Frost grunt and let out a whined groan. You watched as Frost wrapped his arms around the assailant and rolled the both of them, pinning them down as he took a desperate gasp of air.

Frost wasn’t the best with hand-on-hand combat, but assuming the assailant was due to the weapon of their choice, you figured Frost should know already. Frost has to have a plan, or else he wouldn’t have done this.

You looked around the terrain desperately as the two tussled and rolled in snow. A few yards away you saw Frost’s backpack. It was wide open, the snow falling into the guts of the bag.

Looking back to the two, you watched as Frost’s mage hand reached to disarm them, spinning and rolling this way and that to keep the assailant’s arms busy to not let them prevent the action. Turning back to the bag, you started to crawl with what strength you had left.

The chilled wind bore into your butchered thigh, your bruising feet no longer capable of individual movement. You were desperate to get to that bag. He had to have that rope, you remember the rope. You could use it to tie them up and question them for a way out. Maybe something to patch your wounds, stop the bleeding. Anything.

“Umf!”

You glanced back to see the figure’s face exposed and Frost being kicked in the chest across the ice. The figure was another tabaxi, a sort of snow leopard? Their eyes were ice white, blue lips and a dead gaze.

Your eyes widened when they looked over to you. Their other eye was a frosted glassed one.

As they took a step towards you, Frost tackled them to the ground effortlessly. “Get down!” Frost yelled at you, his eyes never leaving the leopard as his hands grew with a misted green hue.

You covered your face and laid against the ice. You felt a wave of some sort that shook the ground below you. You then heard more tussling, Frost hissing out words of attempted bargaining. You crawled again and reached into the bag, a rough texture hitting your hands.

“Frost!” You coughed out. “Catch it!” You pulled the bundle of rope out of the bag, sliding it with the reminding strength along the ice towards him.

Frost glanced over as you called, a breath being knocked out of him as it was slid. His tail wrapped around the rope, swinging it over. You laid on the ice, focusing on your breathing as you watched Frost struggle with the mercenary, trying to restrain them.

God. You thought. I’m so tired.

~~~

The crackling of fire filled your ears. The warmth enveloped you like a summer day. The smell of forest musk and the texture of a soft fur hugged your senses. A sandpaper tongue groomed your head.

You breathed out a pained whine, your ribs aching, your legs throbbing, your feet burning. The quiet hush of comfort held your ears, a soft paw massaging your aching side.

“Don’t move too quickly,” you heard Frost murmur into your ear. “I managed to patch you up with what materials I had, I don’t want your stitches to open.” His tail coiled around your leg loosely, his hands polite with your frame.

“What happened,” you croaked, trying to move to secure your surroundings. “We were on the ice..”

“That was a few hours ago,” he explained calmly. “You passed out from blood loss and hyperthermia while I was restraining our.. uninvited assailant.” He firmly held your stomach with one paw, the other on your shoulder holding you up to his chest.

You blinked, shivering at the cold. You were back at your campsite, the leopard tied to a thick pine trunk. They were awake, looking out at the falling snow. You tensed and Frost quietly shushed your worries, holding your head onto his chest when he felt your concern.

“It is alright,” he reassured. “They won’t escape. They won’t hurt us.”

“Frost I want out of here..” your eyes welled with tears. “I want out..”

He nodded, closing the robe around you tighter as he wrapped around you, acting as your blanket. “I know, it’s alright, we will get out.” He cooed, holding you close as you softly cried into his chest.

You hated it here. You were starving, you were tired, you were cold, you were in pain, and you were so fucking scared. You were over all of this. You were done. You wanted out.

“I have good news,” he said as your sobs died down. “Would it help you feel better if I told you about them now?”

After a moment, you sniffed up your cries and took a deep breath. You took the paw from your stomach, intertwining your fingers together. He gently squeezed your hand, his other paw rubbing gentle circles into the base of your neck. His touch was so soft, so gentle and loving.

You wanted to feel this love for the rest of your life, even if it was platonic.

You nodded, glancing over to the leopard. “I think we’re almost out,” Frost said. “We have the full riddle now, the one from the door. I believe once we figure it out with Kremy and Gideon we can finally break it.”

“But, what do they know?” You asked, gesturing to the attempted killer by the tree. “Maybe they know more?”

Frost shook his head, looking towards the leopard. “I tried to question them, all they would say was the same thing repeatedly. I’m absolutely positive it is the phrase from the door,” his tail flicked as the leopard shifted their feet. “I know they can say more than that, but they won’t. When I look into their mind there is nothing, like it’s a shell of what it originally was.”

You frowned, looking towards the fire. “I can’t even remember what they said.. I was so scared and in shock I wasn’t really listening.”

A hum purred from his chest, the vibration calming your heart.

“Would you like to brainstorm together?” He inquired, his head resting atop yours. You could feel the small smile on his lips by how he spoke, swelling your chest with butterflies. He was quoting you from your first day in this horrid place.

You smiled and nodded, carefully turning so your face could lay on his chest. You used your thumb to feel the fur of his paws, the pads you held being icy yet soft. You loved the roughness the edges of the paw pads gave, yet the softness you touched from the tops of them.

“They said, and I quote, ‘encased future visions portal the embedded facade, glassed eyes watch the facade break in your past.’ That is what was on the door, I’m positive,” Frost recalled. “The riddle and this person are without a doubt connected, they have a glassed eye. When I was at the river there was a large glassed eye in the sky watching me, I’m sure that it’s connected. This person could see us through their own glassed eye, watching us from a distance.”

You hummed, taking in all of this information. “Maybe they have to watch something happen? They’re watching us, and it’s a glassed eye literally, so that makes sense right?”

“It also said that the glassed eyes would watch the facade break in your past, and this is my past terrain. The setting is set, we have that figured out, but what is the facade?” Frost hummed in thought, his tail flicking in your lap now.

“Encased future visions..” you looked at the leopard, who was watching the both of you in a dead gaze. “Like.. a goal? Or like a dream for your life in the future? If it talks about the past at the end, maybe in the beginning it’s talking about your hopes for the future?”

Frost nodded, his head turning down to watch as you held his paw. “That is a very likely theory, I think you’re right.”

“Portal the embedded facade..” you sigh, watching the leopard more closely. Their tail flicked calmly, their ears trained on you both. It freaked you out. “Maybe it’s something to do with.. maybe your future dream is.. something you’re scared of? Something frozen in time? Because it’s encased.. sealed away? Something you want but have sealed it away?”

The leopard’s eyes wander to the tabaxi behind you. Their head tilts, an inaudible pant exiting with a fog. You looked down at your intertwined fingers, using your other hand to hold the back of Frost’s, using your thumb to feel the fur there.

Frost’s tail stilled for a moment, laying on your lap, before calmly swaying again.

“And this assailant is here to keep it encased,” Frost mostly spoke to himself. “That’s the only reason I can think of for why they would try to kill you, to keep the..” he trails off, his tail stilling again.

You looked up to the tiger tabaxi, curious and worried about why he stopped. His eyes were slit narrow, his breath a little shallow. You realized that he was putting pieces together, that he was starting to understand what the riddle was saying.

“Frost?” You gently squeeze his paw, watching as he was brought back to reality. “Are you okay?”

He looked into your eyes and nodded, rubbing your back softly. He lowered his head and buried his face into your neck, earning a heated blush pouring onto your cheeks. You squeezed his paw in surprise and he held you closer. His tail buckled you into his lap, which made you gasp with a little uncertainty.

You looked over to the leopard who was staring just as intently as before. They tilted their head.

“Frost,” you breathed. “What has gotten into you?” He pulled you closer in a comfortable embrace, as much as he physically could. He didn’t say a word.

You blinked. You then melted into his arms. You trusted him. Whatever this was, you trusted him.

You loved him.

You started to think about the riddle. If the first part was talking about a future he was sealing away for whatever reason, and the ending was about his past, the only thing that needed cracking was the facade. Was the facade a secret he was hiding? Or is it the facade of the future or his past? Or the facade that prevents the future he wants? Or the facade..

You closed your eyes, your breath hitching slightly. It was the facade he kept up, the one that prevented the future he wants so badly. He’s scared of something.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you whispered to him. “Everyone is scared of something.”

He offered a soft hum, his paw on your back moving to your side. He moved his face in your neck just slightly, his tail flicking.

“Frost,” you tried. “What is it?”

The crackling of the fire filled the silence.

“Frost,” you frowned. “I’m worried about you.. what are you so scared of? Why are you hiding from what you want in your future? We want to find a way out of here, and you need to fill me in..”

He lifted his head, looking at your eyes. You watched as he observed your expression, taking you in. He took his free paw and placed a single claw under your chin, making you look at him. His whiskers twitched as his eyes sorrowfully softened.

“{y/n},” he whispered. “I want to spend my life with you.”

“What?” You felt your heart leap from your chest. Were you hearing him correctly?

“I have.. I have admired you for many months while we are together on our travels. I have been.. enveloped in the way you smile, you laugh, how your eyes light up with my jokes, with how you observe the way I tinker with gadgets,” his eyes wondered to the side. “I.. I’ve grown to find romantic feelings for you, {y/n}. I want to be in a relationship with you.”

You felt a lump in your throat, a catch in your lungs as you took in the information Frost fed you. Your stomach was in knots, your head fuzzy and light. “You.. you like me?”

“I recognize you do not feel the same,” he closed his eyes and let you go, his paws holding themselves against his body. “I have hidden away my true feelings for you in fear that it would ruin our friendship, that you would no longer enjoy bonding with me and would leave the group. I never made any advancements out of.. anxiety that you’d feel uncomfortable in my presence thereafter. I care for you far too much to scare you away.”

You frowned, looking at his paws. You grabbed his paws, holding them in your much smaller hands. He opened his eyes to look at you, a glossy coating grasping them.

“Frost,” you smiled softly. “Frost I like you too.”

His eyes widened, whiskers twitching. A small smile, no, a big smile forming on the tips of his mouth.

“You.. romantically have an interest in me?” He asked, hope in his once saddened eyes.

“Frost you big ass cat,” you laughed, feeling so free and light. “I want to kiss you!”

“May I?” He watched you carefully. You laughed and held his cheeks and kissed him first, surprise in his face before he relaxed.

The both held each other there, a soft kiss on your lips. When you broke away you laughed aloud as the tabaxi’s tail wagged in excitement. You kissed him again, his embrace gladly accepting.

The cold was nonexistent to you. You were the warmest you have ever felt since your time here with the tabaxi. You felt so alive, so cared for and loved.

The sound of a movement by the tree paused your moment. You both looked over to the leopard who let out a large fogged breath. They held their head high and a purr sounded from them.

“Encased future visions portal the embedded facade, glassed eyes watch the facade break in your past.” they repeated, their dead gaze softening.

You blinked, having forgotten all about the riddle. “Is that it?” You asked the leopard. “We- We solved the riddle? This is all we had to do?”

The snow stopped falling, the icy air halting. You looked at Frost as he held onto you and stood up. He carefully held onto you while simultaneously throwing his backpack on, never dropping you.

You looked at the leopard who stared out into the flat snow terrain. You followed their sight, seeing a rectangular silhouette in the distance. You gasped, patting onto Frost’s shoulder and pointed.

“Frost!! Frost the door!! The door is back!!” The excitement was prominent in your voice, boiled over laughter from relief pouring out.

“Let’s see if we can tell Kremy and Gideon before we leave if they haven’t yet,” he said, adjusting his grip on you as he began to lightly jog through the snow. “Then we’ll all be out of here.”

God was this anticlimactic.

~~~

The feeling of a sandpaper tongue gently grazing along your head woke you. The low purr in his chest behind you calmed your heart, his tongue massaging your scalp. His paw rested firmly on your stomach, the other gently massaging your back.

You hummed in acknowledgement of your partner, who stopped his morning groom and buried his face into the back of your neck. His tail snaked over your hip, the end flicking in content.

“Good morning,” he murmured softly, using his thumb to gently massage your hip. “How did you sleep, my love?”

A smile crept to your face as you melted into his arms. The crackling of the fire in the dark filling your ears.

“I slept good,” you murmured back. “What time is it?”

His tail flicked in thought. “Mm,” he hummed. “About 5, you asked me to wake you up this morning so we could meditate together. Would you like to go back to sleep?”

You tiredly looked up at the sky, watching as the stars twinkled between the forest leaves. The moon shone below, the scattered tree species around the camp painted the terrain. The figures of your friends sleeping around the fire gave you a sense of calmness, a sense of relief.

It had been a month since the manor. Frost and yourself were officially together, no longer the only couple of the group. Kremy and Gideon had gotten out of the manor too, having already been married and showed their love for one another. You all had reunited with your friends, who said you all had only been gone for no longer than an hour.

Four days in that room was an hour for the rest. It was mind boggling to you.

You would never feel the same ever again in snow. You don’t think Frost would either. While the both of you got closer together there, it was.. traumatizing. Frost helped ease your nerves whenever snow fell anywhere, if at all.

He showed you he loved you every day. And you showed him you loved him the same.

“No, I want to get up with you,” you yawned, holding his paw on your stomach. “What do you usually do?”

A loving chuff filled your ears, the best of it brushing against your neck.

“Let me show you.”

You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with him. Not one bit.

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter six - early morning quidditch

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1370

author's note: so...

it's been a couple of months...i would like to formally apologize for the delay. i graduated from university and am currently studying for grad school entry exams while working!! i appreciate you guys' patience and kind messages. i hope you enjoy this next installment!!! thanks xx

also i had a bunch of people ask about the taglist so pls if i missed you lmk!!!!

song inspiration: dreams by the cranberries

The next morning, you found yourself trudging towards the quidditch pitch with Hannah and Hermione in tow. Autumn was making a grand show of her arrival. The forest surrounding Hogwarts’ vast grounds was already bleeding into warm reds and oranges. Crisp air bit at the ruddy cheeks of Hogwarts students buzzing with excitement at the first match of the season.

As beautiful as it was, it was also nippy, and you were starting to regret having foregone your outerwear. Your admirable, but ultimately stupid, decision to wear your maroon and gold sweater in support of Gryffindor without a jacket resulted in chattering teeth and your palms’ frantic attempts to rub warmth back into your body.

“If I ever decide I need to be so school spirited again, bonk me over the head, will you?”

Hannah laughed at your ridiculous request as you trod together towards the stands. “I hardly think that will be necessary.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you hunched over in a vain attempt to contain your quickly dissipating body heat. “I think my fingers might actually freeze off, Han. Are my lips turning blue?” You turned to the blonde, playfully pursing your lips.

Hannah grasped your chin, giving your mouth a quick glimpse before a grim expression overtook her face. “Looks like you’ve got a bad case of frostbite. Might need to amputate, honestly.” You gasped in mock horror.

Another gust of autumnal wind had you cringing at the chill. “My nipples could cut through diamonds, right about now,” you muttered. That had Hannah pealing over with laughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Enough with the dramatics. You’ll be warmer once we’re in the stands.”

You shuffled closer to Hannah as you began to walk up the countless flights of stairs of the stands, grasping her arm in yours and intending to steal her body heat. “You’re no fun, ‘Mione.” She ignored you.

Rude.

“Don’t you worry,” Hannah said, moving her arm out of your grasp to pull you in by the shoulder. “I’ll keep you nice and warm,” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“My knight in shining armor!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands to your chest and batting your lashes at her in faux flirtation.

Behind you, Hermione groaned. “It’s too bloody early to be dealing with you two.”

You and Hannah quickly wrapped Hermione in your fold, trying to alleviate the sour mood of your dear friend. Finally, she gave you a reluctant grin. “Alright, alright, let’s just get a spot in the stands before they’re all gone, hm?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The three of you eventually found seats beside the Patil twins who had also come to cheer on the Gryffindor team. Parvati seemed surprised at your arrival.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, Y/n. You’re not usually one for early morning quidditch.”

Parvati wasn’t wrong. You took sleeping in on the weekends very seriously, considering how little you got to once the school year got into the swing of things.

You shrugged, “You know, it’s our seventh year—have to enjoy it while I can, yeah?”

Not that a certain Slytherin was counting on your appearance or anything.

Parvati seemed to squint the slightest bit, as if sensing your response wasn’t the whole truth.

“Besides,” you said, bumping her shoulder with yours, “I’ve decided to grace the masses with my presence. I’m all about being generous.” Parvati let out a shocked breath before giving you a shoulder bump of her own.

“Whatever you say.”

As with any match between the rival houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin, underhanded moves, bodychecks, and downright filthy maneuvers characterized the playing strategy of both teams. Tensions were high across the pitch and within the stands as everyone watched with bated breath and barely contained excitement to see which team would beat out the other. Lee Jordan’s voice occasionally rang out over the enchanted speakers announcing fouls and goals as blips of green and red crossed your vision. You could hardly make any of them out as they whooshed past and left you colder than ever.

If my mum were here, I’d never hear the end of not bringing a coat.

You continued to fitfully shiver as you tried to discern the players, looking out for Harry and Ginny amongst others. The one player you could definitively make out was the Slytherin keeper nearest to where you sat, who was none other than your Potions partner. It made sense that Theo was a keeper, considering Ron’s particular dislike for the Italian.

Ron was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

Despite being decked out in your house’s colors, you couldn’t help but cheer internally each time Theo skillfully deterred Gryffindor chasers attempting to score. There was a certain degree of elegance to his athleticism. It was calculating and methodical, but aggressive all the same. He was well suited to Slytherin. Theo belonged on the quidditch pitch.

He looked…good out there.

As if sensing your gaze from the stands, Theo’s eyes trailed over before settling on you. Meeting his stare, you gave a small smile and sent a small wave, keeping your other arm tucked into your body for warmth. He flashed a grin that you could only describe as roguish, before his attention was drawn back to the game. Katie Bell was rearing toward him, careening with the crimson quaffle in tow. Cutting through the air, Theo dodged an incoming bludger before swatting the leather-covered quaffle with his broom head away from the tiered goal hoops. As his teammates caught the quaffle and raced in the opposite direction, that heavy gaze of his returned to you. His mirthful eyes almost seemed to say, “Did you see that?”

You did. You saw him.

210-130. The final score reflected Gryffindor’s unexpected triumph over Slytherin, thanks to Harry’s innate talent as a Seeker. Despite Slytherin having a lead on Gryffindor for the entirety of the game, Draco had let the snitch slip through his grasp, leading the team to a rough and irritating defeat. Around you, the crowd was in an uproar, raucously celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, setting the tone for the oncoming quidditch season. You cheered with Hermione and Parvati by your side, clapping for your friends on the team and their exciting win. Soon, you were all clambering down onto the wet green of the pitch, awaiting the team’s reappearance.

Huddling into the warmth of Parvati’s side, you and your friends recounted the best moments of the match.

“Can you believe that early save by Ron? I swear, I thought Pucey was going to take his head clean off.” Hermione exclaimed.

“Worried over Ron, are we?” teased Hannah, prompting a shove from Hermione.

“I’m allowed to worry about my best friend, aren’t I?”

“Oh, so that’s what he is, hm?” questioned Padma to your right, who, anticipating Hermione’s incoming push, deftly avoided it. Hermione glared.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your friends’ antics, gaze trailing over the field swarming with students, professors, and the like. A group of green crossed your vision, the Slytherin team reemerging from their changing rooms, looking absolutely miffed. Theo’s head was turned toward the ground, eyebrows furrowed in what you had no doubt was a sour expression.

Poor Theo—he must be absolutely gutted.

You tried to make eye contact with him, but now he was avoiding your eyes, squaring his shoulders as he plodded away from the pitch, alone. The sight was all too familiar, reminding you of that day in Hogsmeade.

Someone should go after him…right?

You shifted your feet, unsure, before speaking to your friends, “Hey guys, I’m going to—” Your next words were interrupted by Ginny’s arm circling over your shoulder and her excited holler, reanimating the crowd into shouts of victory. The Gryffindor team was back. As your friends cheered and swarmed around you, the sight of Theo’s back disappeared from your vision, lost in a crowd of crimson and gold. Soon, you were being moved along with the rest of Gryffindor house and friends back to the common room to celebrate the first victory of the season. You took one last look in the direction the Slytherin keeper went, before moving along with your friends.

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7, @adoraspace, @spencerreidsthings, @crimsntwlip, @readingthingsonhere, @sbrn0905, @violet2022, @aemiliazzz, @hoeforvinniehackerrr, @chgrch, @the-sylver-dragon, @ahead-fullofdreams, @thoughtfultrashcolor, @valenftcrush, @shereadsandcries, & @teslaraven20

[ramsayxme]

Breaking My Bride

The sun rises and your heart sinks, for you know the day has finally come. You pull the woven blanket over your head, begging time to stop in its tracks. Nothing could prepare you for this day. You prayed to the Gods that it would never come, but it's here. Your wedding day.

You didn't sleep at all last night, knowing that you only had hours left until your existence was diminished to one word; 'bride'. No one would care that you enjoyed painting and that you could ride a horse better than any knight you had ever met. No one would care that you enjoyed singing. No one would care. You were betrothed to Ramsay Bolton, the evil and merciless heir to Winterfell.

You shut your eyes as you imagined your bed floating across the frozen sea, taking you... anywhere but here. King's Landing, The Eyrie, Dorne... you didn't care, but Winterfell was the last place you wanted to be right now. You grew up here, but Ramsay didn't. The Boltons took Winterfell from the Starks and everyday has felt even more grey and gloomy than the last. This was your home, but it didn't feel like home anymore.

You heard one of your newly appointed servants knock on your door and gently push the door open, a loud creaking flooding the silence. "My Lady, Lord Bolton has requested I come and prepare you for your wedding." You groaned under the covers. You didn't like having servants, it felt... wrong. You never had servants before and you managed just fine, you weren't sure you needed them now... but Ramsay insisted.

You felt the bed shift slightly as the servant girl sat down on the edge of your mattress. "My Lady." She whispered, her hand softly settling on your shoulder as she slowly jiggled your arm, an attempt to wake you. "I'm awake." You whispered. She stopped. "Sorry. Lord Bolton wants you to be up and getting dressed. He moved the ceremony up a few hours, he just can't wait to wed you..." Her voice trailed off. She was trying to sound excited, but you could sense the underlying tone. Fear. She was worried for you, and rightfully so.

"Why me?" You whispered as you poked your head out from under the covers, locking eyes with the girl. She looked ragged and exhausted, but she had deep and compassionate eyes. She looked at you, her eyesbrows crumpled to meet in the middle, forming a line on her forehead. "I don't know, My Lady." She whispered in return. "You could try running. Surely living in the snow and dying of frostbite would be more favorable than marrying that monster." She reached out and pet your hair. "I can't imagine..." She gave herself the chills just thinking about it.

"I haven't been able to sleep." You confess. "I don't want to marry him. I hate this arrangement between my father and him. I don't love him, and I do NOT respect him." You admit your true feelings out loud to the servant girl, hoping that you could trust her. "I understand..." she began. "But... Ramsay will be very angry with me if I don't help you get dressed. I can't make him angry with me." You held sympathy for her, knowing that Ramsay would unleash the wrath on her if you refused to get ready.

You sighed deeply as you sat up, the covers falling to your hips as you stretched. "Fine." You submitted to the day. There was nothing you could do to stop it.

********************

You were dressed in the finest white dress with the must luxurious white cloak. You saw your reflection in the mirror and gave a small twirl. You felt like a princess until you remembered who you were marrying, then you felt like a prisoner. You sighed as you picked up the hem from the floor and swayed across the floor to get your hair brushed. A few of your servants were in the room and whispering to each other. You couldn't be bothered to care, you were too obsessed in sulking in your own reality.

The same girl from earlier began brushing your hair. She began whispering to you. "My Lady, a few of the other servants and I... we spoke of your feelings about the day, and we want to help you escape. Nobody should be subjected to Ramsay's torture for life. We want to help you get away from Winterfell." You are a bit skeptical but at the same time, hopeful. You need to escape and you know you can't do it on your own. You slowly nod, her hair brush still stroking through your hair.

*******************

You follow the girl through the darker, dimly lit halls. You hold your dress up high around your chest in order to keep it from dragging. You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you keep running through the stone corridors. Were you really going to escape? Was this wedding not going to happen? You felt the flutter of excitement in your chest as you kept up with the servant. "Behind this door, take a left and run until you reach the side gates. Best of luck to you." She breathed. She swung the door open and stepped aside, allowing you to burst through it on your own.

You kept running and took a left, just as she instructed and you reached the outdoors. The gate had to be just around the corner, but you slammed straight into the wall. You took a few steps back and realized it wasn't a wall, it was Ramsay. He stood in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, head tilted slightly, lips tight together and eyes wild with anger. His curly dark hair licked under his earlobes and curled over the tips of his ears. His gaze was unwavering, he didn't just stare at you, but he stared into you.

"M- My Lord!" You exclaimed, your brain whirring around your skull trying to come up with an excuse. He took a deep inhale and exhale through his nose. His eyes scanned your face as he stepped closer. He was now nearly pressed up against you, his eyes wildly darting from each of yours. You feared he could read your mind.

Suddenly, a smile cracked across his face. "My Love. Where were you going?" He asked confidently, his voice smooth but threatening. You couldn't lie to yourself, Ramsay did scare the shit out of you. His power and psychotic tendencies were unmatched. You forced a smile and a quick burst of awkward laughter. "I must've been turned around, I was trying to head to-"

You were cut off by Ramsay's cold hand wrapping around your throat as he pushed you backwards against the castle wall. His grip around your throat was firm, but you knew he wasn't trying his hardest; it was just enough to restrict your throat from speaking and breathing normally. You watched as he seethed with anger, his teeth clenched together behind his pursed lips. Your hands instinctively reached up and grabbed his wrist and forearm, a plea for him to release you. You felt a flutter in your belly when you noticed how intensely his eyes were staring into yours.

His grip tightened just slightly. "You wouldn't try anything stupid, would you?" You squeaked as you attempted to answer him, but this just caused his hand to squeeze around your throat tighter. "You're lucky I don't take whats mine right now..." His eyes wandered down your neck, slowly examining your body. You felt that fluttering again as you watched him take you in. You couldn't possibly enjoy this. You ignored the fluttering in your belly and you began fighting back.

With your free hands, you reached up and grabbed fist fulls of Ramsay's hair. Before you could second guess yourself, you yanked on his hair, attempting to pull him away from you. To your surprise, his eyes fluttered and his lips parted slightly as he exhaled a groan. He didn't budge. "Feisty one, aren't you?" He chuckled. His other hand reached to your shoulder and he tugged on your cloak, releasing the soft skin of your shoulder.

Ramsay leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder flesh, causing more squeaks to come from your throat. He growled as he bit down hard, you were sure he was breaking the skin. His teeth released you as he let go of your throat. However, you weren't free. His hands gripped your shoulders as he kept your back pushed against the cold stone wall. "Now, I want you to listen very carefully. Can you do that?" His tone was taunting your intelligence.

You nodded, still ignoring the fluttering in your belly. "You will behave yourself at the wedding. You will say what you are supposed to say, and you will be my bride. Do you understand me?" His eyes widened when you hesitated, he was nearly snarling at you. "Yes..." you whispered. "Good." He praised you, the weight of his anger suddenly lifted. "Now, run along. I'll see you shortly, my love." He turned you around and shoved you back toward the direction that you ran from. You meekly sauntered back inside the castle.

********************

It was time. Ramsay was repeating his vows and you were standing there waiting your turn. The whole population of Winterfell had come to see your wedding. You knew you had no choice but to marry Ramsay. There was no escape. There was no way out. Your brain thoughts around your brain, a desperate attempt to find a way out of this situation.

"Do you take this man?" The Maester's voice broke through your thoughts as you realized Ramsay was staring at you and the Maester was waiting your response. "Oh." You slammed back into reality. "I..." You began, your eyes brushed through the crowd of people. Most were staring at their feet, not really excited to witness this forced marriage. You were about to make a run for it, but then you saw it. One of Ramsay's men was perched on a small tower of Winterfell with an arrow nocked and drawn in your direction. You felt your heart sink. You knew if there was one, there were likely many. You had to do this.

"I...I take this man."

*********************

With the slam of the door and a click of a lock, you were alone with your husband; what a horrifying thing. As Ramsay finished locking the door, you looked around your new bed chambers that you would share with him. The room was massive with multiple fireplaces aglow. The bed was plush and covered with pelts and rich furs. The windows were almost cathedral, allowing the light to drape the stone floor in a warm glow.

"Are you pleased, My Lady?" Ramsay asked, his voice breaking your thoughts. "Um... yes." You whispered. No, you weren't. You would give anything to be on the other side of that locked door. "You're not lying to me, are you?" Ramsay began walking towards you. You shook your head, but you knew he could read your fear. You didn't personally know Ramsay very well, but you had heard many rumors of his behavior. You knew he was a menace, a monster, a real bastard.

Ramsay approached you, his cloak crossing his chest with leather straps. You watched him as he unhooked the straps, allowing his cloak to fall to the floor. You felt your breath hitch in your throat. "Now, you belong to me. Do you know what that means?" He asked in the same demeaning tone. "No." You whisper your answer, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He stepped closer, completely closing the gap between the two of you. His hands slowly pushed your hair behind your ears and he held your face in his hands. His blue eyes pierced your attempts of having a hard exterior, you felt yourself grow soft under his dominant gaze. You had to admit... He was very handsome. If he weren't so evil, perhaps you would even feel blessed by the Gods to have such a handsome husband.

You simply stared at him as his rough hands caressed your soft face. One of his thumbs grazed your lips as he examined you. "Such a pretty girl, all for me." He whispered as he leaned in to kiss you. You weren't sure what compelled you, but you pulled away from the kiss. This was not the response Ramsay wanted, and you knew it immediately.

His eyes widened, his stare almost punishing you. You sunk into submission in his hands, your lips parted to let a whimper escape your mouth. Before you could grovel, Ramsay spun you around and pressed your back against his chest. "That was not the right answer, love." He whispered as you felt a pressure on your shoulder blades. Ramsay ripped open your dress, destroying the delicate stitching and sending small beads flying across the stone floor. "I was going to be gentle with you, seeing how timid you are..." He began. "But, I don't think I want you assuming that I am a gentle lover. No, no, you see... I take what I want, however I want."

You felt a lump in your throat as his rough hands were shoved in the rip of your dress, pulling it open completely. He ripped it down, yanking the stitching completely open until it fell on the floor and left you naked and cowering. You felt your cheeks grow hot as you attempted to cover your vulnerable body from him.

Ramsay snickered as he yanked your arms to your sides by your wrists. His chin nudged its way into the crook of your neck as he exhaled onto the skin on the side of your throat. "You'll quickly learn how this works." He bit down on your shoulder meat, making you cry out in pain. His body lurched forward when you tried to lean away from him, pressing himself against you even harder than before. He grabbed your waist and gripped tightly, maneuvering your body back to its original location. You knew you were about to be his puppet.

Ramsay opened his jaw and let go of your shoulder only to whisper into your ear, "Walk to the bed." You didn't dare disobey his order. You walked to the bed as he watched. "I am a skilled lover, believe it or not." He complimented himself. You didn't want to believe him, but you had a feeling he was right. That fluttering was constantly pulsing through your core and lower belly. The power he used against you was almost... sexy.

You crawled onto the bed and crumbled, turning around to watch him slowly walk closer to the bed, like a predator getting ready to pounce. His eyes were glued to your body, and you watched his hands undo his trousers. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them. You were curious, but too afraid to look away from his face. He still slowly approached you as he lifted his wool shirt over his head and threw it on the stone floor. Your husband stood naked in front of you.

You took in the sight. His body was toned, the outlines of muscles peeking through his otherwise slender frame. His blue veins stood out against his horribly pale skin. Your eyes continued to wander. His lower stomach had a trail of fuzzy hair that led to his erection. You stared as he reached a hand down and grabbed the base of his arousal, showing it off to you. "Your husband's cock." He said in a sing-song voice. "You must love the sight."

He kneeled on the bed and crawled on top of you. You felt very nervous, the anxiety hitting you like a train. This was really going to happen and there was quite literally nothing you could do about it. You felt your heart race and you began to panic. You tried to wriggle away, but Ramsay kept you in place. "No need to panic, shh..." He chuckled as he began kneading at your hips with one hand while the other hand held him slightly above you.

You felt your eyes fill with tears as you realized how weak you were. Ramsay lowered his head. His warm, wet mouth opened and took in one of your soft nipples. You felt as he swirled his tongue gently and gradually added suction until he was suckling on your hard nipple. Your body was reacting to his touch, even if you weren't aware of it. He reached up and rolled your other nipple in between his index finger and thumb, slightly pinching it. You allowed your breathing to slow as you felt tiny waves of electricity radiate from your nipples down to your lower belly.

You exhaled as you lowered your head to the pillows, allowing Ramsay's mouth to coax your into relaxation. He hummed softly as he felt you relax ever so slightly. Without warning, Ramsay bit down on your nipple. Not extremely hard, not enough to draw blood, but it caught you by surprise. You let out a... moan? You weren't sure if it was a moan of pleasure or a yelp of pain. You felt him grin into your breast as he pinched harder with his other hand.

Your body lurched forward, your back arching as it did so. Ramsay growled as his other hand snuck behind the small of your back, pulling you up further. "You like this, don't you?" He groaned before going back to suckling on your sensitive nipple. You mewled, barely making any noise. He slowly lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. "I asked you if you liked what I was doing." He was clearly demanding a verbal answer. "Y..Yes..." You muttered, your cheeks flushing red immediately.

The way Ramsay looked at you... it made you feel that same fluttering. You couldn't help but feel like he was excited to dive in head first and devour you. You felt like a prize, the way his eyes widened when you squirmed underneath him. Like a sexy game of tug-o-war. He wanted you, and secretly... you liked feeling wanted by a man with this much power...

Ramsay's mouth suddenly crashed into yours, his lips surprisingly soft and supple. You had expected crusty, chapped, and cold... but they were warm... soft... You couldn't help but eagerly kiss him back. Your lips moved together, his tongue slithering into your mouth as he exhaled and squeezed your hip. Oh Gods. The fluttering.

He formed a rhythm with his lips and his hips. He was slowly grinding against you, his skin hot against your thigh. His exhales were controlled, not as jumpy as yours were. He was clearly in complete control of both you and himself. He pulled away from the kiss and you opened your eyes, unsurprisingly finding his own staring deeply into you. Without saying a word, he flipped you over so you were on top of him. You rested your weight on his upper thighs, very aware of his hardness in between your legs. He was grinding his teeth and now had both of his hands gripping the softness on your hips.

"Come here." Ramsay whispered, his voice smooth and low. You weren't sure where he wanted you, so you hesitated. He spun you around. Now facing his feet, you gasped with shock when his hands found your hips and he pulled you down onto his face. His warm tongue immediately began slithering up and down your slit, lapping up the warmth that had formed between your legs. You exhaled a moan as you allowed pleasure to flood your body.

Ramsay kept you pulled down, sitting on his face. You felt a little self conscious, but didn't have a say in the matter. You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on his upper thighs to hold yourself steady. He moved his hands from your hips to your ass and pulled at the plump skin, pushing and pulling as he continued to lick you. You felt weak and shaky. You lowered yourself to your elbows, resting on either side of his thighs. You opened your eyes and realized how close his cock was to your face.

You were floating with pleasure, his tongue working at your core, eating you like he was starving. The slurping sounds would've been enough to make you hide for a week in embarrassment, but you couldn't be bothered by it right now. You couldn't help it, this eager force within you was begging you to make a move on your husband. You cautiously opened your mouth and allowed the warm head of his cock to enter between your lips. Ramsay groaned as you did this, the vibrations echoing between your thighs.

You started swirling your tongue, feeling the smooth skin of his tip against your mouth. You closed your lips, applying slight suction as you allowed a bit more in your mouth. Ramsay began licking you harder, a bit more desperately. His hands reached up to the small of your back, pushing your back into an arch. You groaned as you took more of his cock into your mouth. You felt Ramsay pull away from your cunt for a moment, resting his head on the pillows. "That's right, that feels so good." He moaned.

Ramsay kept his head on the pillows as he brought one of his hands to your core. He slid his index and middle finger up and down on your slit, collecting the saliva and wetness. You were now bobbing up and down slightly, allowing his cock to enter your throat. Ramsay pushed the two fingers into your soaking cunt which allowed a hungry whimper from your lungs. "That feels so good, doesn't it?" He asked. You could feel him watching your cunt, watching his fingers slide in and out. His eyes were likely wide and full of arousal. You melted at the thought.

You continued pleasuring Ramsay with your mouth, you were so focused on it that you didn't even notice when he stopped fingering you. "Face me." He demanded. You pushed your leg over him, and got between his legs, looking up at him. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding inside. He reached down and cupped his balls, pushing them forward. "Suck on them." He instructed. You opened your mouth and began swirling your tongue around on them. He gripped his cock and began stroking himself, watching you intensely.

"My beautiful wife." He breathed as he licked his bottom lip, staring at you. You refused to break eye contact as you continued to swirl your tongue. Perhaps Ramsay wasn't as evil to someone that was vulnerable with him. He wasn't overly vicious so far, and actually was somewhat of a generous lover... eating you out and fingering you before he demanded anything from you. Of course, you were wrong.

Ramsay grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked, pulling you away from his erection and pressed your face against his thigh. You yelped in pain and your hands reached up to hold his hand, hoping he would release your hair. "Use your hand on me." He demanded. You didn't immediately obey, and he yanked on your hair once more. He pulled you up so your head lay on his chest. You quickly wrapped your hand around his cock and began stroking him. "Like this, My Lord?" You asked, wanting to be sure you were pleasing him.

"Yes, yes... just like that. You can be quite a good listener, can't you?" He cooed, his hand still wrapped in your hair. You nodded softly as you continued to stroke your husband. You were feeling warmth between your legs once more, your body aching for him. Ramsay reached his arm around your throat and began choking you. You stopped stroking him, perhaps a reflex of the choking. He growled. "I did not say stop!" He barked and tightened his grip around your throat.

You obeyed. You began stroking him again while he choked you, his arm wrapped behind the back of your neck. You were sputtering, struggling to breathe. His grip was tighter than before. You were stroking him feverishly. He was grinding his teeth, his eyes glued to your hand on his hard cock. Suddenly, his grip died. He let go of your throat and yanked you up to his face by your hair. His lips crashed into yours again.

He pulled your hips up and onto his lap. Before you could react, he shoved his cock into you. You screamed into his mouth, his arousal stretching your walls beyond anything before. Pain shot through your core, and you instinctively tried to pull yourself off of him. His grip on your hips was strong, and he forced you down. "Hold still." He grunted as he shoved deeper, his whole length slamming into you. You whined, the pain radiating through your body.

Ramsay didn't care about your pain. He didn't care that you were whimpering and had tears filling your eyes. In fact, he enjoyed it. You felt him twitch inside you as you groaned, attempting to breathe through the stretching feeling. "Ride me." Ramsay demanded. You couldn't. You tried moving up and down and it felt like fire tearing through you. You were a virgin, and Ramsay had to know it at this point. "I said ride me." Ramsay demanded, his eyes turning serious as he stared into your soul.

"I... I can't..." You cried out, your body begging you for a break. Ramsay rolled his eyes and huffed an irritated sigh. He shoved you off of him, a gasp escaping your throat. "Oh, thank you..." You whimpered. "We can go slower and-" Before you could finish your sentence, Ramsay flipped you over and mounted you. You laid on your back as he pulled your ankles to his shoulders. "Slower? No... no, you stupid girl. I told you earlier. I get what I want. I always get what I want. Even if it means I break my bride tonight, I will get what I want." Ramsay's mouth ripped into an evil grin.

He shoved his cock into you once more, this angle wasn't as painful but it was not comfortable. He began pumping in and out of you, his eyes moving up and down with him. He stared at your face, enjoying the pain taking over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip. You involuntarily whined each time he pushed into you, his erection seemingly forcing the whimper to bubble up.

Ramsay fucked you happily while you squirmed beneath him. The pain was dulling after a minute and your body was growing used to his size. The wetness between your legs was letting him know that you were starting to enjoy the feeling. He was sliding in and out of you quickly, his rhythm steady and forceful. "I see you're starting to like the feeling, aren't you?" He moaned between breaths. "Yes... Yes... It feels... good." You moaned, realizing that your body was craving this feeling. You wanted more.

"M...M..." You tried begging for more, trying not to think about what you were doing. You couldn't believe that you were begging Ramsay to fuck you harder, maybe you were more of a whore than you thought. "More... More!" You whined. Ramsay stopped and leaned back, his eyes wide. He chuckled, his sharp teeth flashing. "You want more, do you? My wife is such a whore!" He bit down, his teeth barred as he flipped you over. You were on your knees and Ramsay was behind you.

He entered you and began sliding into you hard and fast. You felt the warmth rise in your belly. Ramsay yanked your hair back and choked you with the crook of his elbow once he pulled you up. “I love choking you. I love knowing how much power I have over you. You love it too. I know you do.” He growled. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt lightheaded from the lack of air flow. Ramsay let your neck go, falling forward as he began kneading your cheeks and hips. He was yanking your body against him as he thrust forward, his cock slamming into you hard.

He leaned forward, his cock plunging deep inside you, and he bit down on your shoulder as he continued thrusting. You began whimpering his name as you felt the heat rise. You had never felt this warmth in your core before, and each of Ramsays thrusts coaxed it to the surface. He reached around and under your body, his hands finding your breasts. He groped and grabbed at your chest and held you tightly against him. He let go of his bite and his lips touched your ear. “You love getting fucked by me, don’t you? And you’re ashamed of how good it feels.” He pants softly into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“Yes… I love it…” You whimper, feeling utterly defeated. Ramsay pulls out of you and rolls you over. “Now, I want to watch you completely submit to me.” Your brain feels as if it’s melted. Ramsay pushes himself in you once more. He starts thrusting away. Your gaze hovers from his face to your center. You watch his body meet yours, his member disappearing with each thrust of his hips. You look back up at his face. His eyes are serious, his teeth grit tightly together. He watches you intensely as his hand makes its way down your body.

He gently starts rubbing right above your center which sends a huge wave of sensitivity through your body. You struggle to keep your composure as Ramsay rolls his fingers softly around your bundle of nerves. He fucks you mercilessly, but keeps his fingers gentle against this extremely sensitive area. He finds a rhythm and sticks to it. Your body responds fairly quickly, and you feel a warmth building in your center. Ramsay smirks confidently, you know he can read your facial expressions easily. “Don’t hold back. Good girl.” Ramsay praises you as you start to climb higher in this wave of intensity.

“Ramsay… I…” you start to sputter a few whimpers. Ramsay shushes you and doesn’t break the rhythm. “Let it happen. I want to watch my wife drown in pleasure.” Your eyes are growing harder to keep open but you see Ramsay flash his grin before you close your eyes and allow your build up to erupt. You feel a wave crash over your body as Ramsays gentle fingers seem to start vibrating with electricity. You let out a groan that feels almost guttural, and your back arches against his chest. He keeps fucking you, his cock slamming into your body with passion. You realize Ramsay is coming as well, his seed filling you. He groans and stiffens his body as he pushes into you with need. You can’t help it, you run your fingers up his bare back and into his hair. You feel animalistic as you grip your husband’s curls and allow your body to harbor his orgasm.

After you both catch your breath, Ramsay rolls over and slides out of you. He turns to you and grins. “Get used to that happening, my love.” Unfortunately, you couldn’t get enough. You were already excited for tomorrow night. It only took one time for Ramsay to break you, perhaps you were weaker than you thought.

[justice4billiam]

So I know everyone's always talking about nsfw with Billy and that's great but what if a girl just wanted to be his bsf? She (forcefully) move dhim in with her and she gets him Christmas presents, and she bakes and cooks for him and just loves him like soulmates, but not romantically??? You think he'd like this???

Now that I've dumped my Brain on you hi I'm Lillie <3 you don't have tow rite this tysm!

Billy Hargrove x PlatonicFem!reader

Word count: 6,083

Warnings: Nothing too bad. Just Billy being Billy. So, cussing but maybe even a little less of himself actually.

Author’s Note: GURL, I am so sorry. I held onto this for SO long and I didn't mean for it to be over 6k words lmao I am so hard on myself when it comes to writing but I decided to just let it free. Nice to meet you, Lillie. ❤️ I hope you like it.

Platonic Soul...Whatever

“Get in here,” you snapped, yanking your best friend into the living room by the scruff of his jacket.

He’d been holed up in the spare room, hiding out like an antisocial pussycat.

Billy huffed, his eyes rolling, clearly pissed at the night you’d planned. But he kept his mouth shut, letting you drag him in without a fight.

You were in the middle of having a housewarming party for the new apartment you moved into last week and the whole gang was there much to Billy’s dismay.

“What’s going on?” you asked, keeping your voice low to keep it just between you two.

Billy was always weird at the get togethers, but he had been getting better at it. Friendly even. But today he was different. Something was eating at him, and it was worrying you.

“And don’t give me ‘nothing.’ I’m not dumb.” You shot him a look that meant business.

He scrunched up his face, lips pressed tight, and looked at you like he was weighing his words.

“It’s nothing,” he said at last. “Just… the usual crap back home.” He shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but at you.

“Billy…did he—” you started, your eyes scanning him for any sign of trouble.

He shook his head quickly.

“No, not this time. But I gotta head out early tonight, okay?” His blue eyes were hard when he looked at you.

To anyone else, it might look like anger, but you knew it was something else. Sadness. And it looked all kinds of wrong on him.

You wanted to dig deeper, but now wasn’t the time, not with everyone else around.

You gave him another once-over, didn’t see any harm, and nodded.

“Alright, Hargrove.”

He let out a sigh of relief, probably glad he didn’t have to spill it all.

You noticed his hand twitch toward his pocket, then drop. He remembered the no-smoking rule in your place. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright,” you said, fixing his jacket and giving him a pat.

“Go have your smoke. When you’re ready, come back in.” You winked, letting him know it was cool.

Billy’s head shake was subtle, his face drawn tight. “But, its colder than balls out there.”

It was early December, and the chill was just setting in—nothing compared to what was coming. But Billy always had a thing against the cold. You almost laughed, suddenly thinking back to last winter when he’d ended up ass-first in a snowbank outside your old place.

The guy never gave a damn about rules, but here he was, actually listening to you for once.

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-resigned.

“Fine, light up in the spare room, but for God’s sake, open the damn window.”

He gave a snort, that smug look taking over.

“Cheers, darlin’. The fine women of Hawkins will be singing your praises for saving my… assets from frostbite.”

Classic Billy, always with a line.

“Ewe, dramatic much?” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you headed for the kitchen.

————

As it grew late, the place began to clear out. Nancy and Jonathan, along with their group, were among the first to leave.

You couldn’t help but feel an excitement for Nancy and Jonathan—they’d just spilled they were heading to Emerson College in Boston after the summer.

Nancy’s grip was firm, her eyes like deep pools in the dim light.

“You sure you won’t come with?” she pressed, searching your face for a sign.

Jonathan was all half-smiles and shrugs as he stepped up beside her.

“We could hide you in a suitcase,” he joked, his arm finding its home around Nancy’s shoulders.

You let out a laugh, a short, sharp sound.

“I’ll stick to my own bed, but thanks,” you shot back, catching Billy’s eye for a moment. He was leaning against the wall, a silent lookout.

You weren’t about to ditch without Billy. He was anchored here until Max was done with high school.

That was the unspoken rule between you two. Max was in the dark, but you and Billy had spent a night diving deep into that conversation—his fears of leaving her to deal with Neil alone.

Billy and Max’s relationship had gotten better since that October at the Byers’.

They still snapped at each other like firecrackers, but that was just their way. You’d grown to love having them around.

Max was like the scrappy little sister you’d picked up along the way.

But Billy was different.

He was your solid ground, your constant. You didn’t need to spell things out for him; he just got it. He could dial down your stress with a glance, and you could temper his anger without a word.

It reminded you of something you’d read in a dog-eared book that you checked out from the library: platonic soulmates.

That was the label for what you had with Billy—no bullshit, no fuss, just an unspoken understanding that ran deep.

Billy scoffed at the soulmate idea, brushing it off as a load of crap. But when the book you’d been quoting mysteriously disappeared after that heart-to-heart, you didn’t need three guesses to know who’d snagged it. You let it slide, settling the library fine without a word. It was a small price to pay for the bond you shared with your so-called platonic soulmate.

“The offer’s open,” Nancy reiterated, her voice trailing off as she and the others made their way out.

Mike and Will managed half-hearted waves from the doorway, while El gave you a tight squeeze around the waist before moving on to Billy.

He tensed up, his eyes darting to you in a silent plea for rescue as El’s arms wrapped around him.

You stifled a chuckle. El was the only one brave enough to tackle Billy with affection.

Maybe it was her history with real monsters that made Billy’s temper seem trivial. Or perhaps it was her upbringing with Hopper, another man known for his temperament.

Billy cleared his throat, a hint of discomfort in his voice.

“Okay, don’t need all that,” he mumbled, gently disentangling himself from El’s embrace and stepping back.

His expression grew even more puzzled when El simply beamed at him.

Max stepped in, her arm around El, guiding her towards the door.

"Yeah, El, don't you know?" Max exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at Billy, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

"He's like the Grinch or whatever." She continued, her hands waving about as they walked to the front door.

"He doesn't want to be hugged and cared for because his heart will grow too big for his body, and if you haven't noticed, he already has to worry about falling over with all that hair on top of his head." Her smirk was infectious.

Billy shot Max a flat, unamused look, but you and Mike couldn’t contain your snorts of laughter, which you tried to mask with a cough as Billy’s gaze turned to you.

El, puzzled, studied Billy’s unruly mane and then glanced at Steve’s voluminous hair in the kitchen.

“I don’t see any problem,” she commented innocently.

‘If anyone should be worried, I think Steve would fall over first.’ She glanced between Max, Mike, and you, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

You rolled your eyes as you watched Billy smile smugly as Steve turned toward them upon hearing his name.

Steve looked over, his eyebrow raised in question.

“What’s this about my hair?” he asked, his hand automatically fluffing his locks.

Mike, clearly over the day, rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go, El,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out after the others.

“See ya,” Will murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he followed behind, giving a small wave to the remaining group before disappearing into the night.

You caught a glimpse of his downcast eyes and wondered what could have made him so down.

Steve exhaled a weary breath, the kind that’s been through too many late nights and too early mornings. “Gotta head out,” he said, a half-hearted grin on his face. “New job at the Hunting & Camping store starts tomorrow morning.”

Your eyes narrowed, a quick glance thrown to Steve, then to Robin, who was playing cards at the kitchen table with Lucas and Dustin.

“What about Family Video?” you asked, your voice edged with a hint of suspicion, but it was Robin you were counting on for the truth.

You also worked at Family Video, but whispers of Steve quitting hadn’t reached your ears.

The thought alone was enough to unsettle you. Work with him was one of the few highlights in a job that could often be boring. You really hoped he wasn’t; you genuinely enjoyed working with your two close friends.

Robin didn’t even look up from her cards.

“Don’t worry, he’s still with us,” she called out, her voice steady over the clatter of the game.

“Royal flush!” She stood up, her shout a victory cry.

“Deal with it, boys!” she taunted, pointing at the boys who just shook their heads in defeat.

Lucas was all frustration and disbelief.

“How does she always pull this off?” he muttered, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Dustin’s chair scraped loudly as he stood, his face a mix of annoyance and admiration.

“She’s got some kind of magic or she’s cheating!” he accused, his finger jabbing in Robin’s direction.

Robin’s laugh was sharp and bright.

“I’m not cheating,” she shot back, her hands on her hips, her stance all defiance. “It’s just you two dinguses can’t play.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“Take it easy, you three,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from every word.

You turned back to Steve, your expression softening just a bit.

“Two jobs, huh?” you said, the tease clear in your voice. “Looks like Harrington’s playing the adult card now.”

Steve’s smile was a blend of resignation and a challenge.

“Dad’s cut me off,” he admitted, a hard edge to his voice. “All about ‘earning my keep’ now. So, I’m doing it my way.”

You nodded, feeling that familiar tug of empathy.

Your own parents had given you the boot when you ditched the college route. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you’d stick around this nowhere town.

Your fingers twisted together, the old sting of ‘failure’ creeping back up. But then there was Billy, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was his silent way of saying, “We’ve got this.”

You looked up, catching Billy’s eyes. They were a clear, steady blue, like the sky after a storm. His smile was quick, a silent conversation passing between you two without a word.

“Well, anyway…” Steve’s voice broke through as everyone started to pick up their stuff.

The goodbyes were thrown around, even Billy’s nod to Steve was surprisingly chill, a small sign that maybe, just maybe, there was some common ground to be found. You clung to that hope, that small nod, as the night came to an end.

After the rest left through the front door, you caught Steve’s arm before he could leave.

“Hey, I gotta tell you, I’m really proud of you,” you said, your voice carrying the weight of genuine respect.

“It’s tough, starting new,” you added, a glance at the nearly empty space to signify you really did get it.

Steve’s smile was quick and sincere.

“Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot, you know? And hey, we’re overdue for that movie night,” he suggested with a playful wink, pulling his jacket closer as a cold draft slipped through the open door.

Your eyes fell on the new TV, with its built-in VHS player—Steve’s housewarming gift to you.

It was a generous thought, but it felt like too much. You’d insisted he take it back, but the bulky set remained, a silent testament to Steve’s stubbornness. He’d assured you it was no big deal, that it was better off here, getting some use.

You acknowledged his gesture with a nod, your face stoic but your eyes hinting at a silent vow to make the most of his gift with endless movie nights.

As Steve’s grin widened, he stepped out into the night, his laughter blending with the voices of Robin, Dustin, and Lucas as they disappeared down the street. You watched from the doorway, the figures of your friends growing smaller in the distance.

Billy’s voice cut in from behind, a dismissive edge to his tone. “Count me out for movie night.”

You turned, a smirk playing on your lips.

“Too bad, Billy,” you retorted, the playful challenge clear in your voice. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not.”

He was about to argue when Max’s anxious voice interrupted.

“We should go too,” she said, her eyes darting around, signaling something was wrong.

A wave of concern washed over you.

“What’s the rush?” you asked, your voice laced with worry. “It’s not even eight.”

Billy’s curfew was a constant shadow, ten o’clock sharp, a little later if Max was with him. You knew the rules too well, had seen the consequences on his skin—bruises and cuts he’d dismiss with a hollow laugh.

But there was that one night, the truth spilling out in the dark, his voice a low rumble at your window. “My dad,” he’d said, the words heavy with unspoken pain.

“Max, get your coat,” Billy’s voice was tight as he flung the door open again. He pulled out his cigarettes, his movements tense.

His hands shook as he tried to light one, and you stepped in, your hand steady, lighting it for him.

“Billy,” you said, your voice low, “everything alright?”

He glanced away, then back at you, a forced smirk on his face.

“Just gotta be home early,” he lied, smoke trailing from his lips.

You nodded, the unspoken words hanging heavy.

“If you need anything…”

He gave a small nod, a silent understanding.

“I know. See you later,” he said, and then he was gone, his figure blending into the night, Max following close behind.

You closed the door, the silence of the apartment heavy around you.

In the quiet, you made a silent vow to always be there for Billy, to stand by him as you had that night he confessed. It was a promise made without words, one you intended to keep.

————

The clock’s red glare read 1:27 a.m., the only light in the otherwise dark room.

The soft creak of the door was like a whisper, but it jolted you awake.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up, squinting into the darkness.

The light from the hallway cut a sharp outline around a familiar figure—Billy, the only other person with a key to your place.

“Billy?” Your voice was thick, still wrapped in the remnants of sleep.

As your hand reached out for the lamp, his figure moved closer, a shadow in the half-light.

“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, and his hand was on yours, guiding it away from the lamp. His touch was cold, sending a shiver up your arm.

“Are you okay?” The words were barely a whisper, concern threading through them as you climbed out of bed, reaching into the darkness towards him.

He sniffed, a sound so faint you might have missed it if the room wasn’t so deathly quiet.

“I’m…” he started, his voice barely there, then clearer, “No.” It was a stark admission, cutting through the silence.

“Oh, Bill…” you breathed out, your arms finding their way around his rigid form. Your hands rested gently on his neck, and you felt him lean into the embrace, his own arms wrapping around you.

A shuddering breath escaped him, betraying the facade of control he always tried to maintain. His head rested heavily on your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body beginning to unravel.

The silence was broken only by his occasional shivers, and you felt the dampness on your shirt where his tears had soaked through.

“We’ll get this sorted,” you said, trying to infuse your voice with confidence as you reached out to touch his cheek.

But he pulled back sharply, a quick intake of breath hissing through clenched teeth.

You flicked on the light, and the room was suddenly too bright, too real.

The sight made you pause—a large, open cut above his eye, blood running down, sticking to his lashes, pooling around his now swollen-shut eye.

He raised his hand, a silent plea for patience.

“It looks worse than it actually is,” he insisted, his voice strained. You noticed his lip, swollen and split, distorting his words.

You stood there, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

This was more than just a late-night visit; it was a cry for help. And you were determined to answer it.

“Let’s clean you up,” you said firmly, ready to do whatever it took to help your friend.

“We’ll figure out the rest after.” The promise was unspoken but as solid as the ground beneath your feet. You were in this together, no matter what.

Billy’s nod, small and pained, told you he understood.

After the long, meticulous process of cleaning him up with the first aid kit, the two of you now sat at the dining table, the silence filled with the soft clinks of the kit being put away.

The tension had eased somewhat, replaced by the quiet understanding that always seemed to exist between you two.

Billy’s face, now cleaned of blood, showed the stark reality of his life at home, but here, in the safety of your apartment, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability.

You were just about to speak when an urgent knocking on your door cut through the stillness.

You exchanged a puzzled look with him before you got up to answer it, Billy close behind you as you did.

Max stood there, her eyes wide with concern.

“I had to make sure he was okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Billy’s expression hardened for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing out so late, Max?” he asked, his tone a mix of anger and concern.

Max’s gaze flickered to you before settling back on Billy.

“I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were… if you were safe,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped aside, letting her in, and she moved directly to Billy, her small hand reaching out to touch his arm gently.

Billy’s initial irritation faded as he looked at his sister, his eyes softening.

“I’m here, I’m okay,” he reassured her, his voice more gentle than you’d heard in a long time.

The three of you sat around the table, a makeshift family in the middle of the night, bound together.

You watched them, the siblings who had been through so much, and felt a fierce protectiveness rise within you.

“We’re going to figure this out,” you said, your voice firm, catching both their gazes. “Billy’s staying here now. He’s not going back to that house.”

Max’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, a look of relief passing over her face.

Billy just sat there, his eyes on the tabletop, his jaw clenched.

You knew he was wrestling with the decision, the weight of years of abuse and control not something he could shrug off easily.

But you also knew that this was the only way forward.

“You’re safe here, Billy. This is your home now,” you said, reaching across the table to place your hand over his. “We’re in this together.”

Billy looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours, and in them, you saw the flicker of hope that had been absent for so long.

He nodded, a silent acceptance of the new reality.

Max stayed for a while longer, until her eyes grew heavy with sleep, and you set up the couch for her to crash on.

As you turned off the lights and headed back to your room, Billy followed.

The room was silent, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, almost tangible.

Billy lay beside you, his body a rigid line of tension and unspoken pain. The darkness seemed to press in closer as he hesitated, then spoke into the void between you.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was a low rumble, barely more than a breath. “Me living here… and Max. What if something happens when I’m not there?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you let the silence answer. You thought about the weight of his words, the gravity of the decision he was facing. It wasn’t just about him; it was about Max, too, about breaking away from the life he knew, no matter how broken it was.

“I’m sure,” you finally said, your voice a soft but firm counterpoint to the darkness. “You can’t keep putting yourself through hell. And Max… she’s safer with us than she is in that house.”

He was silent, and you imagined you could hear the cogs turning in his head, weighing your words against his own fears and doubts.

“And what about Neil?” His question was a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout in the stillness of the room.

You took a deep breath, feeling the resolve settle in your bones.

“We’ll deal with Neil if we have to. But you… you need to be safe first. We both know if you stay there, it’s only going to get worse.”

Billy shifted beside you, a rustle of movement in the dark. “I just… I don’t want to leave her alone with him.”

“Max won’t be alone. She’s got us, and she’s got you. And she’s always welcome here, anytime. This place is as much a home for her as it is for you.”

There was a long pause, and you felt the moment stretch out, a bridge spanning the gap between fear and hope.

“Okay,” he said at last, the word a small surrender to the inevitable. “Okay.”

You reached out, finding his hand in the darkness, and squeezed it. It was a promise, a vow made without words, that you’d stand by him, come what may.

The night deepened around you, but in that shared silence, a new understanding was forged. You and Billy, against whatever the world might throw your way. Together. And that was enough. For now, it had to be.

————

Your apartment was filled with holiday atmosphere, the first true place you both made your own. The smell of pine mixed with the smell of pasta sauce that was cooking, a new recipe you were trying out in hopes it would become an annual thing.

Christmas was right around the corner, and the excitement was as heavy as the garland hanging on the walls.

Billy was due back any minute from his second job at the auto shop, a position he’d taken up since moving in. The days were long, and the work was hard, but Billy told you he enjoyed the job. That was all that mattered, you supposed.

You had the day off and had spent it transforming the apartment to feel more festive.

Billy’s arrival was indicated by the sound of the door swinging open, his frame filling the entryway as he stepped in from the cold. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the festive transformation with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve been busy,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, revealing the smudges of grease on his forearms.

“Yeah, but I left the tree for us to do,” you said, gesturing towards the undecorated tree standing in the corner.

He grunted in acknowledgment, a sound that was almost a laugh, and headed for the shower, leaving heavy footprints in his wake. You seized the moment to call Max, knowing she’d jump at the chance to join in.

When we finally sat down for dinner, the table was like a little patch of food surrounded by all the crazy decorations.

Billy’s first bite was met with a nod of approval.

“This is way better than Susan’s cooking,” he declared, the corners of his mouth turning up as he chewed.

Max chimed in, her voice muffled by a mouthful of pasta, “Yeah, beats the hell out of it.”

“If you keep cooking like this, I’m gonna end up fat,” Billy joked, patting his stomach, though his tone suggested he wouldn’t mind that outcome.

“That’s what the exercise equipment’s for,” you quipped, pointing towards the hulking mass of different metals that dominated half the living room.

When Billy first lugged his gym gear into the apartment, neither of you had really thought through where all of it would go.

The living room quickly became a makeshift gym, with dumbbells, a bench, a barbell, and weight plates claiming their spots among the furniture. It was a bit of a mess, but it was a lived-in mess, a sign of life happening in real-time.

You didn’t mind, though. In fact, you found a certain charm in the chaos. With the holidays approaching, you got creative, weaving tinsel and garland through the iron grips of the weights and draping festive cheer over the cold steel of the barbell. It was an odd juxtaposition, sure, but it worked. The living room was transformed into a space that was uniquely ‘you and Billy’—a little rough around the edges, but full of heart.

After dinner, the three of you approached the tree. Billy picked up an ornament, examining it with a critical eye before hanging it on a sturdy branch.

“Never had much use for these things,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of nostalgia he’d never admit to.

Max laughed, reaching for a trinket. “Come on, it’s not so bad. Looks good, even.”

The evening wore on, filled with the clinking of ornaments and the occasional deep chuckle from Billy as he recounted stories from last year’s Christmas you all celebrated together then too.

You noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at the tree, the way his rough exterior gave way to a quiet appreciation for the moment.

It was a simple night, but it was laced with the promise of many more to come.

As you all stepped back to admire the now-decorated tree, Billy’s arm brushed against yours, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience.

“Not bad for our first tree,” he said, and you could hear the unspoken thanks in his voice.

————

The oven’s chime signaled the cookies were ready, a sweet aroma mingling with the crisp winter air that Billy let in each time he cracked the door for a smoke.

He stood in the doorway, a barbell in hand, half-watching the MTV countdown, half-engrossed in his workout.

“You’re letting in a draft,” you said, pulling the cookies out and setting them on the stove.

Billy took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him. “Well, if someone would let me smoke inside…”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you walked over to him.

“You know the rules,” you reminded him, standing close enough to feel the cold air he was letting in. “Besides, I don’t want our cookies tasting like smoke.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he mockingly conceded, taking one last drag before you nudged him out the door with a laugh, quickly shutting it behind him to keep the warmth in.

You darted away, but Billy was quick, shoving the door open and dropping the barbell with a thud as he chased after you.

His laughter mixed with yours as you ran down the hallway, the playful chase a familiar dance between you two.

You ducked into his room, thinking you’d won, but a misstep had you tripping over something unexpected. Both of you tumbled to the floor, a mess of limbs and uncontrollable laughter.

“Clutz,” Billy teased, but there was no heat in it, just the warm humor that had become a staple of your interactions.

“It’s not my fault, it’s this—” you protested, sitting up to see what had tripped you. In your hand was the missing book, Platonic Soulmates. You turned to him with a triumphant smirk.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed. “You did take it!”

Billy scoffed, trying to maintain his innocent facade.

“Must’ve gotten mixed up with your stuff,” he said, but the sheepish look in his eyes betrayed him.

You shook your head, the smile on your face impossible to contain. Billy sighed, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance.

“Alright, maybe… maybe we’re like platonic… soul… whatever,” he grumbled, finally admitting to the bond you both knew was there.

The laughter had died down, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. You both lay on the floor, the carpet’s coarse fibers imprinting on your skin.

Billy stretched out beside you, his presence a solid comfort as you both stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

The world outside seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of tranquility. It was a rare moment of stillness for Billy.

Then, his voice broke the silence, soft yet carrying a weight that filled the room. “Thank you.”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “For what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Billy’s voice was gruff, a stark contrast to the softness of the moment.

“Thanks for stickin’ around,” he said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if he was addressing the room rather than you.

“Seems like everyone’s always after something. Neil… he wanted me to fall in line. People at school just wanted to ride the wave of whatever popularity I had. And the girls, well, they didn’t look much past the surface, did they? But you… you’re different. You never wanted anything but to hang out. That means something. So, yeah… thanks.”

Billy’s words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. They settled around you, heavy with the weight of a life that hadn’t been kind. You felt a surge of something fierce and protective, a sadness for the battles he’d fought alone.

“You don’t owe me thanks, Billy. That’s what friends do,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the emotional fog.

Billy’s gaze met yours, a silent conversation passing between you. His eyes, a clear blue that had seen too much, held a gratitude that was raw and real.

You both took a moment, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his words. It was a pause that said everything without a single word spoken.

“You’ve got me, no matter what,” you said, the promise as solid as the ground beneath you.

After a deep breath, you stood up, offering Billy a hand.

“Come on, I baked you cookies,” you said, a gentle nudge towards the simplicity of everyday life.

Billy took your hand, rising to his feet.

“Alright,” he conceded, a hint of a smile on his face. He paused, a playful challenge in his eyes.

“So, about smoking in the house—”

“Nope,” you cut him off with a chuckle, already heading to the kitchen. “Not happening, Hargrove.”

He followed, his chuckle a low rumble that filled the room.

“Worth a try,” he said, the mischief still alive in his voice.

————

Christmas morning broke with a spirited truth that no holiday movie could capture.

The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the heater and the distant sounds of the outside world waking up.

You were determined to share this moment with Billy, to give him a taste of something genuine and heartfelt before the chaos of the party preparations began.

You found Billy still buried under his blankets, his room a stubborn sanctuary of everyday life among the holiday transformation of the rest of the apartment.

“Billy, come on. Just one present before we start the day,” you insisted, your voice cutting through the silence as you tugged at his arm.

His response was a gruff murmur, an indication to his dislike to mornings.

After a bit of coaxing, he relented and followed you into the living room, his body language a silent complaint against the cold that greeted his bare skin.

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of Christmas lights, the tree standing like a flare of the season’s good spirits.

Billy, hair tousled and eyes half-closed, slumped onto the couch, clad only in his red plaid sleep pants.

You joined him, draping a throw blanket over both of you to fend off the chill. Then, with a gentle motion, you placed a small, wrapped gift onto his lap.

He eyed the present with a mix of curiosity and a hint of that guarded look he always had.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Of course I did. You’re my best friend,” you replied, watching as he unwrapped the gift with hands that were more used to handling tools than delicate wrapping paper.

The keychain, a small silver house, caught the light as he held it up. It was a simple thing, but it was heavy with meaning.

“It represents us finding our place. Our home,” you explained, your voice low but clear in the quiet of the room.

Billy was silent for a long moment, the keychain turning slowly in his hand.

“I’ve never really had something like this,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble. “A place that actually feels like home.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“Well, you do now. And we’re going to make sure it’s a damn good one.”

Billy’s smile was a rare sight, his brows furrowing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the softer emotions.

He stood up, the blanket falling to the side, and shuffled out of the room with a gruff, “Hang on.”

You watched, curious and touched, as he disappeared down the hall. Moments later, he returned, something concealed in his hand.

“Got something for you,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning forward with interest as he sat down across from you.

“Just… give me your hand,” Billy instructed, his usual brass demeanor faltering slightly.

You complied, placing your hand in his, feeling the calluses on his palm—a testament to his hard work.

“Close your eyes,” he added, a hint of command still in his voice.

You rolled your eyes but did as told, a smile on your face. “Always so dramatic,” you teased.

There was a pause, and then Billy’s voice, softer now, “Alright, open.”

When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of a bracelet made of sea glass on your wrist. The colors were a myriad of blues and greens, like the ocean he so loved.

“You made this?” you gasped, your eyes lifting to meet his. He looked back at you, a mix of pride and something similar to vulnerability.

“It’s from that beach in California I told you about,” he explained, his fingers gently turning the bracelet on your wrist.

“That place was my escape, you know? And now, well, you’re kinda like that for me here.”

You sat up, touched by his words and the sentiment behind the gift. “Thank you, Billy. This means a lot.”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he joked, but you could tell he was pleased.

In response, you reached out and pulled him into a hug, a gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could. It was a thank you, a promise, and an acknowledgment of everything you’d been through together.

“Now come on, get ready,” you said, standing up and pulling him to his feet. “You’re helping me with the Christmas party food, whether you like it or not.”

Billy grumbled, a mock scowl forming on his face.

“You just like bossing me around,” he said, but there was no real annoyance in his voice, just the comfortable banter that had become the foundation of your friendship.

“Don’t be ungrateful,” you laughed, giving his arm a playful swat.

Billy’s laughter, deep and genuine, filled the room.

It was moments like these that reminded you why being Billy’s friend was worth every second.

[izvmimi]

cw: yandere. no smut here although some suggestive aspects.

“You’re trembling.”

He’s not wrong. You open your mouth but as you breathe out to answer him, you can see the cloud of your own breath blooming in the frigid air. If you were to attempt to reach out to him to plead for some extension of humanity, you’d only make him more correct in his assessment and the very idea steels you enough to hold your body perfectly still. 

You won’t bear to protest loudly however, risking looking even more like the useless child he has reduced you to. Shoto senses the defiance in your silence and tuts, shifting his weight to his back heel as he crosses his arms and looks down at you. 

You’re a pitiful sight to behold, lain in a heap, skin ashen from extreme cold and impending frostbite nipping at your fingertips and toes. You’re stark naked, because how else will he satisfy his cruelty and his desires at once, and his eyes lave over the length of your trembling body. Your eyes turn away from him for just a moment and the single flame he generates from his index finger to remind you of the warmth and light just out of your reach flickers commensurate with your lapsed attention. You draw a breath and the dim light reveals his smile. 

“Are you upset, my love?”

You reply with a cough, the chill in your bones inescapable. Your eyes trail off again to stare at a wall, and this time he won’t let you disregard him, leaning in to settle his fingers firmly around your jaw and pulling you up to meet him as he squats down to your eye level.

“Say something.”

You’ve been in here, wherever you are, so long you’re not sure you remember how. His fingers dig into your skin and you wince. Every part of your body feels slower, weaker, more listless as though your isolation has forced you into a true hibernation of sort.

“…. What would you… like me to say?”

Progress. Shoto’s mismatched eyes seem to develop new life as he contemplates your newfound pliability. In another universe, he imagines that you are fighting him now, throwing things and spitting, and forcing him to force you into good behavior, your face against the barren flooring, a knee driven into your back. 

“What do you think I want to hear?” He replies. You’re not stupid, of course. You’re well aware of what he’s always wanted - dependence. For your eyes to be wide, always focused on him; for your pupils to dilate, for you to be desperate for every single drop of attention he offers you no matter how few, for you to be the brainless baby you swore you always wanted to be. 

He needs you to say you need him. 

“It’s cold, Shoto,” you admit instead, voice hoarse. Your body continues to fold in on itself, the same way your heart does.

Shoto smiles, offering you nothing more than the painfully impartial press of his lips onto your bare shoulder - you don’t recoil because there is nowhere to go ultimately.

“My love will keep you warm,” he reminds you.  

And the flame goes out.

[charlesslut16]

-Frostbite-

summary : you and max go on a stroll outside and it end not as planned...

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you like this lovies. The dezember is almost over...

december masterlist ; masterlist   

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

Max Verstappen glanced out the window, the snow-covered landscape calling out to him. Even though he loved the sun and warmth, he could not stay inside but go outside and take a stroll with you in the winter.

"Hey, love, want to take a stroll outside?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You grinned, knowing Max's love for adventure all too well. "Sure, why not! But it's freezing out there, don't forget your warmest coat."

Arm in arm, you both ventured into the winter wonderland. The air was crisp, the ground adorned with a pristine blanket of snow. It looked absolutely wonderful.

Max's infectious laughter echoed as he playfully tossed a snowball your way, starting a playful snowball fight. As you were both always up for a challenge, you threw one back.

Amidst the flurry of snow and laughter, time slipped away. Hours seemed like moments as you both wandered deeper into the serene landscape, indulged in your love for each other.

However, the temperature dropped rapidly, and you started to feel the chill seeping through your layers. You thought that you were clothed warm enough, but you were wrong.

"Maybe we should head back home, into the warmth," you suggested breezy, noticing the frost forming on the edges of Max's beanie. The weather service did not say that it would be this cold.

"Just a bit longer, my love," Max insisted with a plea, wanting to savor the magical ambiance a little while more. He really enjoyed this time with you off work.

But the cold proved relentless, and before you knew it, your fingers were numb, your cheeks flushed crimson from the biting chill. Max noticed your discomfort and, taking your freezing hand in his warm one, he suggested hurrying back.

Unfortunately, the walk back seemed longer, the snow heavier, and the biting wind more intense. The chill began to penetrate through every layer of clothing, and you both quickened your pace, hoping to reach the warmth of shelter soon.

As you finally returned home, relief flooded over you. Yet, when you removed your gloves, the telltale signs of frostbite started to appear on your cold, freezing fingers.

Panic tinged Max's voice as he noticed in an instant, immediately springing into action, his concern evident in his eyes. He could not have you hurt under his watch.

"We need to warm your hands gently," Max said, his voice soft yet urgent. He gently held your hands close to his body, his warmth slowly seeping into your frozen fingers.

Concern etched across his face, he reassured you. He held your hands and hoped that it would be better in a few days. But something still nagged at him. How did he not notice that you were this cold?

"It'll be okay, love. Just hang in there."

With tender care, Max tended to your frostbitten fingers, making sure you were comfortable and warm. He refused to leave your side until he was certain you were okay.

In the following days, Max took on the role of your own personal caregiver, ensuring you received the best treatment to heal your frostbite. He would do anything.

His love and concern were unwavering, and he made sure you felt supported and cared for every step of the way. Max was terribly sorry that he could not do more than he already did.

Through the ordeal, your bond with Max only grew stronger. His unwavering devotion and care during those moments solidified your love, making you realize that in both sunshine and snow, you had a partner who'd always be by your side, keeping you warm and safe.

[koisuko]

So the cat asks what if the cat was a human who was cursed as a cat and somehow the curse is broken and now there is a young woman in their house

HAH! I imagine the reactions would vary wildly from shock to straight up embarrassment. * cracks knuckles *

Tw: none, fluff, slight mentions of nudity, fem reader

ft: Raiden, Kenshi, Lin Kuei Trio, Johnny, Kung Lao, and Liu Kang

Raiden

Dumbfounded, flustered, an absolute tomato at the sight of a nude young woman on his bed, where his newly adopted feline friend once was.

When I say his eyes were wide, nearly popping out of his head, his brain couldn't even register what you were saying.

It took him a moment to bring himself back to reality, quickly shielding his eyes with a gasp.

"I-I'm so sorry, m-miss, h-?"

He struggled to make a coherent sentence, his tongue failing to cooperate with the words forming in his head.

Eventually you were able to explain the situation, using a pair of casual clothes he handed you, his back turned out of respect of your privacy.

He listened intently to your explanation, making sure you were comfortable every step of the way, offering you food and water or tea. He made sure he didn't overstep any boundaries, he even offered you a place to stay after you clarified that you were in fact homeless.

Kenshi Takahashi

Considering he's blind, he had no reaction to the nude part specifically. He could sense a familiar presence, but something was off about it.

"Sento?"

He would call out to you, wondering if something was wrong with you that he could sense, only for a voice to call back in response.

Taken aback by a sudden voice, he quickly gripped onto his katana, his eyebrows knit together in a mix of caution and confusion. You were quick to clarify that you, albeit hesitantly as you knew how skilled of a swordsman the man in front of you was, were Sento, his beloved feline.

Multiple questions later, he released his grip on his sword, keeping his guard up yet still allowing you room to speak and explain yourself.

It took a while for him to consider that what you were saying about the curse was true, all of your answers adding up in a way that made sense. He offered you help with your redemption, allowing you a place with him while you rehabilitate yourself to a human life once again.

Bi-han

He had no reaction to your nude form, although he was quick to restrain you and cover you up, questioning you on who you are and where you came from.

You were quick to hiss in his face, not quite registering that you are human once again, to which you gained no reaction.

"Who are you?"

His voice was deep and gravely, his eyes squinting with suspicion at your sudden presence in his quarters. You could feel the chill from his skin, the frostbite rising on his forearms as he glares down at you, waiting for an answer.

Upon explaining your story, the curse itself and anything relevant, Bi-han kept his stoic demeanor, not once taking his eyes off of you. He was skeptical, to say the least, but the more you explained the more his face visibly softened. Although he didn't smile, or make any move to show that he understood, instead he allowed you to stay in the Lin Kuei as a new member.

Kuai Liang

He was quick to cover his eyes, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he handed you a nearby blanket to cover yourself with. He was confused, on why there was a woman in his room, and why you were nude.

"Miss, are you hurt? How did you get in here?"

He spoke in a soft yet cautious tone, careful not to intimidate you. After he was sure you weren't in need of medical attention, he quickly sat you down, giving you his undivided attention while you explained your situation.

He was understanding, engaging in your endeavor by asking questions, even offering you help with finding the culprit and questioning them for you. Kuai handed you any food, water, or tea you requested, a soft reassuring smile on his face as he mentioned allowing you to stay with him.

Tomas Vrbada

Much like Raiden, he was absolutely flabbergasted, I mean face full of red heat and audibly gulping at the sight of you, naked, in his room. He was quick to hide his eyes, and his visibly flustered appearance, behind his hands.

A stuttering mess he was, digging through his drawers for anything to cover you up, his hands shaking and fumbling with various different shirts and pants. He placed them on the bed, keeping himself faced away as he took a shaky breath.

"p-pick whatever you'd like, a-are y-" he nervously clears his throat, "are you hungry? Thirsty?"

He made sure to keep his gaze elsewhere, even if you were now fully clothed. Only glancing at you when something of your story piqued his interest, swiftly turning his head away with yet another blush tinting his cheeks.

He was completely open to you, believing your story and offering to console you on your struggles with this curse.

Johnny Cage

Respectfully, he's staring, out of pure instinct, but he apologizes and offers you some of his clothes to cover up with. Expect to be wearing his merch, his name labeled in bold letters on the front and back of the T-shirt, and Cage covering the pants.

Johnny's first assumption is that you are a fan, a crazy one, that somehow made it into his mansion looking for a 'risqué' encounter with your favorite actor.

He watched you pull a pink collar from behind your back, holding it to him with a pitiful expression. Realization hit him, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Princess? I must be drunk, or out of my mind," he glances down at the whiskey in his glass, "what the f*ck was in my drink?"

You explained the situation to him, from the moment the curse turned you into a fluffy white feline to now, making sure to sprinkle in things only you knew about Johnny to further convince him.

Considering he owns an entire mansion by himself, he had plenty of rooms to allow you one upon hearing that you were homeless without him. He never stopped calling you princess, despite you telling him your real name, not that you mind.

Kung Lao

His eyes were wide in surprise, a gasp left his lips when he saw you. He covered his face quickly and turned around, a string of apologies were thrown, worried he violated your privacy by looking at your naked figure.

He’s quick to find anything nearby that can cover you up, anything at all to maintain your decency, even willing to take off his own shirt just for you to have something to shield yourself with.

“Miss, are you lost? Are you hurt?”

He eventually sat you down, noticing the look of shock on your face, placing a hand on your back as he studied every detail of your features with concern.

As you calmed down, explaining the situation to him, he never once looked away. He nodded in understanding, asking questions in engagement with your struggles.

Eventually he offered to take you to Madam Bo’s for some food and tea, he was sure Madam Bo would have a solution for you.

Liu Kang

Extremely respectful, he is sure to cover his eyes and offer a gentle smile your way. He is more concerned than suspicious of you, offering you a warm blanket and a seat to relax in.

He will sit in front of you, the warm expression never once leaving his face as he patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts together. Even offering you a cup of warm tea as you pull the blanket tighter around your shivering form.

"What brings you here, does something trouble you?"

His tone not displaying even the tiniest bit of negativity, offering you a safe place to open up and talk about whatever troubles your mind.

Once you gather your words together, you explained in detail the curse bestowed on you, the life you had before it, and what you remember from your time as a feline. He listened intently, occasionally offering reassurance throughout that he believes you and that he is willing to help.

Despite your sudden appearance, he was willing to accept you with open arms, offering you a place within the Academy as your new home.

[happy-beeeps]

Day 3: Gloves

Summary: Din offers the reader his gloves, and their first look at his skin.

Warnings: none, language, briefest mention of past abuse

WC: 1k!

It’s easy to forget how cold space is. In the past few months you’ve been on the Crest, between the baby and the roaring, industrial sized heater, it’s been toasty, almost warm. You’d almost forgotten it could be cold. Until, of course, the ancient industrial sized heater broke.

It wasn’t too bad at first. Mando was quick to find any spare blankets he had on the ship and pass them between you and the baby, hoping to create any semblance of warmth. Then the baby himself helped, as you attempted to rock him to sleep for hours, the green little guy getting fussy from the cold. Now, with the kid settled into his pram and the lack of body heat on your hands, you’ve done it. You’ve remembered how cold space is.

You’re doing ok. You’ve seated yourself on the co-pilot’s chair, knees pulled up to your chest and your hands wrapped underneath your clothes, tucked under your armpits. Your face is half obscured under the neck of your sweater, and you’re attempting to creative some kind of insulation by just continuously blowing your breath against your skin. You haven’t decided if you can die from carbon monoxide poison this way but, fuck it, you’re too cold to care.

Your hands, that’s the issue right now. You hesitate to say agony but—let’s be real, it’s agony. You’ve been frostbitten before, so now your fingers and joints of your hands are aching under the pain of the chill in the ship, and no matter how hard you press your hands to your skin, there’s no relief.

“What are you doing?”

It’s Mando’s—Din’s, as you’ve just recently learned, voice that breaks you from your disassociation, offering the briefest respite from the pain. He’s asking you in a tone that’s equal parts concern, confusion, and jest. Over the past few months you’ve learned it’s his feeble attempt at teasing.

“Trying to warm up, not all of us come with an insulation system,” you poke back, and he settles beside you in his chair, his helmet sending that searing gaze towards you. You shrink into yourself even more beneath it, somehow feeling both intimated and bewitched by it.

Ok, bewitched is just a better word for saying you’ve got a massive-fucking-crush on the guy, but that’s beside the point.

“What’s wrong with your hands?”

“Nothing, what gave you that impression?”

He cocks his head to the side in a way you’ve begub to translate as “really?”

“Just something from when I was younger, it’s nothing.”

He pauses for a moment, then extends his own hand in one of the rare few moments of touch he’s offered. “Let me see.”

You’re in hell. If there is a maker, they’re being cruel. Do you remove your hands from the tiny bit of warmth you have, or reject Din in a rare moment of vulnerability?

The choice is immediate, and you rip your hands from their confine and tentatively place them in his.

They don’t look bad, an angry red at the joints and the cold has made you curl them inwards, but they aren’t blackened or cracked like some of the frostbite you’ve seen. He must notice the difference, and moves to gently trace the joint of one of your fingers. His words are slow, deliberate, “How did this happen to you?”

You melt into his touch, “locked out of my house during a snowstorm a while back, he was an asshole.”

Din tenses at that, just barely noticeable, and pauses his trace. You worry you’ve offended him, and he removes his hands, only to slowly, carefully remove the leather gloves you’ve always seen on his hands. “Here, you take ‘em.”

“Din, please, I can’t, I’ll be fine.”

“I want you to wear them.”

It’s the only encouragement you need, and you pulll them on quickly. You try to conceal how rapidly your heart is beating as you peak at the newly exposed skin of his hands.

He’s tan, tanner than you’d thought, with skin that looks warm and inviting. Calluses dot the underside of his palms, and he brings his fingers together, wringing them slowly. It dawns on you that you’re not sure if anyone has ever even seen his hands.

“How are your hands not always sweating?”

Nice. Real smooth. He’s gonna love that.

“Maybe that’s why I always keep them on.”

“Are we doing humor now?”

“Depends, how am I doing at it?”

You laugh, and so does he, and you decide you’d quite like to hear that sound forever. You stretch your fingers, warming nicely in the suede of Din’s giant gloves.

“Thank you, for these, I needed it.”

“Don’t mention it.” He unwinds his hands, laying them on his knees as he turns his attention back to you.

You’re not sure if you’re high on knowing that you’re wearing Din’s clothes, or the ecstasy of finally having feeling in your fingers, but your hand is quickly going to poke at his, your fingers dotting the smooth contours of his own.

You half expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t, letting you play with his fingers and trace his skin. It seems easy with the barrier of fabric between you. You ignore the fact that your stomach is churning and your brain is going ohshitohshitohshit.

He’s got a scar along the inside of his wrist, you can only see a bit of it, white and gnarled. You reach out to trace it, careful not to go beyond the skin that’s already exposed.

“When I was just learning to use my flamethrower, things got a little…dicey.”

The image of a young Din accidentally torching himself makes you smile, but it’s quickly dimmed by the realization that the man beside is literally wearing clothes that kill people. You flex your hand in his glove and realize, I guess you are too.

“Do you feel better?”

You’re rocketed back to reality by his voice and you nod, “yes, thank you.”

He stands, but not before tapping the bottom of your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, the skin on skin contact rocketing through you. “Keep em’ till we land, they suit you mesh’la.”

He leaves quietly, leaving you sitting in the cold and silent space, thinking of foreign words with pretty sounds and warm suede around your fingers.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Mother dearest | Xavier Thorpe x Addams!Reader

Advent calendar day four: Winter Solstice

Summary: Xavier spends winter break at the Addams manor and celebrates Winter Solstice for the first time. When night comes, the two of you take advantage of the timing to conduct a séance and call someone special

I got most of my Winter Solstice and Yule knowledge from the Chilling adventures of Sabrina…and picked some other lore around the internet/from the Krampus movie. I apologize if some things are wrong, please don’t come at me

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Snow was falling outside the living room window as you helped your mother decorating the tree, dusting the Addams manor’s property ground with a light coat of white. It was pretty to look at, but all winter reminded you of was the frostbites you got on your hands as a child. 

‘’We're delighted to have you with us for the Winter Solstice, Xavier,’’ Granny Frump said, a little too fond of your boyfriend. 

It was very kind of your parents to invite Xavier over for winter break. His father was too busy to take some time from his schedule to spend time with his son, which would have left him spending the holidays alone at the academy. 

‘’Faustine would be so proud of the young man you became. She was a psychic too. Predicted many famous deaths…even her own!’’ 

Xavier smiled at the gray haired woman, uncertain how to respond. His memories of his godmother were hazy, having only seen her three times in his life — one of them being in her casket at her funeral.

‘’Children, Mother, gather here,’’ your mother invited after you placed the last ornament, saving Xavier from an endless uncomfortable conversation with Granny Frump. ‘’It’s time to light the yule log.’’

Your father brought a box of matches and handed them to your mother as Pugsley and Wednesday came down the stairs, joining you all before the fireplace. 

‘’Have you ever celebrated the Winter Solstice, Xavier?’’ Morticia asked, a box of matches in hand.

He shook his head. Holidays were not really a thing at home. ‘’No, Mrs. Addams.’’ 

Your mother lit the match with a crack, and as the flame flickered, she elaborated on the basics of winter solstice and significance of the Yule log. ‘’Remember, the Yule log is not a decoration. It’s a protection. It must burn continuously from now through the shortest day through the longest night until dawn. Otherwise, Satan knows what malevolent forces might come down our chimney.’’

‘’Like Krampus!’’ Pugsley interjected, a shiver of terror crossing his face. 

You and Wednesday had read him the tale of Krampus a few years ago, which gave him nightmares for months. Thinking back, it hadn’t been very nice of you, but only you and Wednesday were allowed to torment Pugsley. 

‘’Krampus?’’ Xavier echoed, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He glanced at you, silently asking for an explanation, but before you could respond, your twin sister took the lead.

‘’He is a hairy creature with cloven hooves and horns like goats. His long, pointed tongue lolls out and he has fangs...to eat the children he captures on his night out. During the Winter Solstice, he walks around the streets with chains, looking for badly behaved children to tie to them and take to his den,’’ Wednesday explained, concluding her explanation with a dark toward Pugsley. 

Xavier's eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and unease at Wednesday's vivid description of Krampus. ‘’Sounds like quite the character,’’ he said, trying to lighten the mood.

You wrapped a hand around his upper arm. ‘’Worry not, mon amour, if the fire is burning, he cannot come in,’’ you added in reassurance, providing a detail that Wednesday had conveniently omitted. 

‘’Children, that’s enough,’’ your mother intervened, her voice cutting through the tension. She stepped closer to the fireplace and successfully ignited the Yule log, the flames casted a warm glow across the living room. ‘’And now, the Solstice blessing.’’ 

Once the house was quiet and asleep, Xavier met you in your bedroom. The manor’s creaking wood floors were an easy betrayal so he had to be careful to not step on the wrong floor board. If your parents knew what you were up to, they would be livid.

‘’Did you bring it?’’ you whispered in the dimly lit space. 

Xavier reached through the collar of his shirt and retrieved a silver chain with a dainty ring looped through it: his mother’s ring. 

During the Winter Solstice, the veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest, making it the perfect time to conduct a séance. But beware, the thinness of this veil carried its own danger, which was why it was very important to keep the Yule log burning throughout the whole séance. If the fire were to die, any malicious spirits could seize the opportunity to slip through the transient gap and come to this world, to your chimney. 

You sat around the table you had prepared before Xavier’s arrival with an array of candles, a chalk-drawn pentagram and matches. ‘’You seem nervous, mon amour?’’ 

‘’I’m about to speak to my mother…who died seven years ago,’’ he said, his fingers fidgeting with the silver chain. ‘’This is surreal.’’ 

Despite your many shopping trips to Jericho, you had been unsuccessful to find something to give him. Nothing material felt right. He could buy himself anything he wanted with his father’s money. So you decided to give Xavier something that had no price to his eyes — a chance to speak to his mom again.  

‘’Are you sure it's safe?’’ Xavier asked, watching you light the lasts of the candles. 

‘’My mother’s side of the family has been doing this for generations, witchcraft is in our blood. I’ve been assisting my mother during her séances since I was three years old. I know what I’m doing.’’ You glanced at him over the candles. ‘’As long as Thing is keeping the Yule log burning, everything should be fine. Hand me the ring?’’ 

Xavier slipped the ring off the chain and placed it in the palm of your open hand, your fingers brushing against his. With care, you placed it in the middle of the table and began. 

‘’Hands facing down the table, pinkies touching,’’ you instructed, closing your eyes. ‘’Focus your energy. Send it to the table. If your mother is here, she may speak herself or through me or some combination.’’

Xavier nodded although you couldn’t see him.  

‘’Spirits below and above. Spirits in between, causing in the fabric betwixt worlds. We ask that the veil be lifted and you send forth the spirit of Delphine Thorpe. Delphine, you are welcome to this house, to the circle. If you’re here we ask that you make your presence known.’’

A sudden gust of wind blew into the room although no windows were open, sending a chill down your spine. 

Having felt it too, Xavier looked at you, his green eyes both excited and nervous. He looked around, careful to not rupture your pinkies on the table. 

A soft smile drew on your lips, the whisper of a woman’s voice echoing in your head. ‘’She said she’s here.’’ 

—

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[doorp]

What started out as theories abt when the main cast died but got silly

Annabel + Lenore ✨

This one is pretty straightforward, there’s these Barbie movie redraws flynn did that shows Annabel and Lenore being caught by “NMPD nevermore police department” , with the year 1901 in the corner, implying that’s when they died and got sent to nevermore

This little 1901 in the corner is interesting on like a meta level to me bc 1. in the original Barbie meme theres no date on the slate thingies, so flynn decided to add that piece of info on her own, and 2. this was just after episode 67 came out (on fp I think) and uh little tidbit, before that episode there was a theory that Theo died in like the 1860s or something based on the logo in the newspaper abt his death, the ny daily tribune, and after episode 67 came out and ira mentioned a ship that wasn’t available for public use until 1899 on the discord we were trying to do mental gymnastics to make the 2 dates work but then red came on like “please we accidentally grabbed the wrong logo it’s meant to read new York tribune not New York daily tribune its fixed now we fixed it please” and then a few days later they streamed doing this piece

Anyway, ira talks about the oceanic, which was “the finest ocean liner in the world” the *largest ocean liner in the world* until 1901

The RMS oceanic had its maiden voyage in September of 1899, at the beginning of fall. Annabel says she arrived in New York a fortnight before meeting Lenore, presumably during the spring. Annabel arrives at lenores house in april/may of 1900, spends six months there, and then leaves around the fall, probably somewhere around September or October. Lenore then spends a few months doing her thing and then arrives at her family’s home in either December 1900 or January 1901, during the winter. HERES where it gets interesting. We can assume that Annabel died in the cold, from her spectres chilling atmosphere and all together appearance of corpse in a freezer. She even has frostbite on her fingers and toes, as well as snowflake like glitter in her veil. We can also assume she died on her wedding day, the way she wears her rings on different hands and her wedding dress in spectre form. So if she died in the cold and on her wedding day, then when was her wedding, and how could it be in winter?

heres my 2 theories

1. Lenore beats Annabel at chess just for funsies fairly quickly after arriving, then they try to elope and get caught by their dads

2. Lenore courts Annabel, wins her hand, and they get engaged. Since engagements usually lasted around 6 months to 2 years, their engagement could have been anywhere from however long it takes Lenore to win at chess to December 1901. If their wedding day was in November/December, that means Lenore got away with pretending to be a man for a whole YEAR and they spent that year just being gay and shit/doing schemes.

I personally like option 2 more bc its just sadder that they did get away w it for a while then ultimately got caught - it would also explain why Annabel is just SO into Lenore, if all she remembers is that year they spent being all sneaky and gay and shit, it would explain how she’s just used to flirting and holding onto Lenore in secret. It would also explain why Annabel assumes Lenore is up to scheming at nevermore. if they eloped a few weeks after they reunited it would still be like yeah that makes sense they are such u haul lesbians, but them becoming sneaky codependent gays ripped from each other on their wedding day just hurts more and makes more sense time/character wise

Duke - 1912, maybe even 1912 specifically, idk

Duke has a coin that’s dated to 1912, and Eulalie says it looks brand new. There’s been arguments about wether or not the coin is actually newly minted, but I don’t think we can say for sure. It might not matter either way- I have a theory that the suit cases the students carry aren’t actually random personal items of interest, but a suitcase they packed right before a pivotal event in their lives. Perhaps Duke does have newly minted coins in his suitcase, but he didn’t actually die in 1912. Also! Duke is implied to be a Houdini like figure, so I imagine he’s not later than the 20s.

Pluto - 1914 ish

Plutos spectre wears a British ww1 military uniform, its debated wether or not the jacket was his dads or his, but regardless he couldn’t have died earlier than 1914. Pluto is named after the cat in the short story called The Black Cat by Edgar Allan poe. In the story a cat named Pluto gets its eye slashed out by its drunken owner, eventually getting hung from a tree by the man. Theres obvious references to the story in Plutos design and shit overall, when he manifests a belt snaps around his neck implying he died from strangulation, his spectre has like, a pluming collar/leash of smoke around its neck, his spectre looks like it’s made of ash kinda (someone described him as a burnt rabbit to me once) which is probably a reference to the part in the story where the man’s house burns down, only 1 wall remaining erect, with the image of a black cat scorched into it. Plutos eye is covered by his hair, he walks into a door frame, he’s got spectre abilities called “blink” and “evil eye” so w Pluto until we get more info it’s no earlier than 1914 if you subscribe to the Pluto went to war theory or no earlier than like, say the 20s? if you subscribe to the Plutos dad was a vet theory

Berenice - 1920s

Shes a flapper, cmon. shes from the 1920s. Look at her. We already know she was run over by a cop car after running from some guy, and I tried to look into where the cop car was from but i didn’t have much luck. mostly just confirmed the era, when I searched cop cars of the 1920s pretty similar images to the one that killed bee show up. A few others I think have looked into it more? but im not completely sure. There’s been a lot of theories about where Berenice is from, I’ve seen Louisiana, Chicago, Harlem (Harlem renaissance specifically) but there’s not a lot of conclusive info about Berenice. we know her pearls were real, in the way they scattered, so she had so have some means of affording them. Pearls are held together on a string, but only real pearls have pieces of metal between the pearls to keep them from rubbing against each other. Bees pearls scatter in long strings, not completely all over the place like fake pearls without that structure would.

Eulalie - 1935

The song Eula sings in her death flashback is a Japanese lullaby that was rediscovered in 1935. Its a popular theory that Eulalies death was a hate crime, a fire started because of hate towards Japanese Americans during ww2. She probably died in the forties in america, I don’t think she died in Hiroshima or Nagasaki, the fire that killed her isnt how atomic bombs would have killed her. The kid she sings to asks if someone started the fire on purpose, so imo it was likely a hate crime.

Morella - 1950s - 70s??

Okay so, Morella. we know the least about her. with will we can guess that he was lower class and stuff, but all we know abt Morella is that she’s Irish. Shepards pie and Guinness is pretty timeless. The reason I say 50s to 70s is bc according to Remigoesinsane the clasp to her locket started to be used around that time! that’s all I have on her tbh, a theory of mine is that she died in a factory accident trying to save someone when the machinery went crazy, but that’s mostly it.

Ada - 1930s

Ada’s clothes in her death flashback match those worn by maids in the 1930s, and the lingerie she wears in the manor also matches lingerie worn in the 30s. It would also make sense for Ada’s character to be from the 30s. That decade was called the “somber thirties” bc of how fucked up the economy was after the stock market crash. It was a major time of economic disparity, and Ada’s obsession with trying to seem upper class elite could stem from not having much when she died. She probably sees nevermore as a blank slate, a place where people will see her as more than just “the help” would also make sense that the man that killed her was a rich guy using his power to take advantage of her and get away with the crime. Especially since the poem, Tamerlane, was from the pov of a rich guy lamenting a relationship he had with a lower class girl named Ada.

Prospero ✨

PROSPERO! prospero drinks espresso with his chosen last meal, which was invented in 1901. I think he died from tuberculosis. For a long time a major cause of death has been tuberculosis. So much so that Victorians made it a beauty standard. A major inspiration of Poe himself was tuberculosis, in the masque of red death, along with the grief he was left with after his wife died from it. It rots your lungs, makes you cough up your bloodied respiratory system until you suffocate in it. In the maze, prospero says he felt queasy, like something was crawling under his skin when he died. When prospero cuts his hand, he says he’s going to be sick, and tells Annabel that he’s afraid of blood. (Probably specifically his own blood bc u know he was feeding people to rats like minutes before that) This, coupled with the imagery of blood pouring out from his plague mask when he says the “queasy, like something was crawling under my skin” line, makes me think his death involved a lot of blood! And as I said before tuberculosis was like really gross and bloody and gory. Furthermore, this quote from the writer is SO interesting

In the poem prosperos namesake is in, the masque of red death, the prince prospero, hiding and ignoring a sickness ravaging his country, decides to host a huge party! Everyone’s having a grand old time, the festivities only pausing when the clock strikes, leaving everyone in a dread filled silence, the party picking up almost immediately after and brushing it off. Eventually the plague does get in though and kill them all because they ignored the feeling of dread.

The prince and the party goers die because the prince is blissfully and willfully ignorant of the disease. Bc their hubris didn’t allow them to see the threat of it. Nevermores prospero, however, is obsessed with staying healthy/hygienic as possible. He wears his gloves even when he eats, hates being touched, almost throws up when he cuts his hand. He hallucinates a thousand dirty hands grabbing him and trying to perform an operation on him with disgusting germy tools. He sees the hand he cut amputated, imagining that the wound got so infected that it had to be removed. He stares in horror at his hand before Ada even makes eye contact with him. My theory is Prospero grew up hearing terrible stories of people dying from infection, disease. He heard of people slowly drowning in their own blood. He decided to take every precaution, he simply wouldn’t allow that to be his fate. After Ada attacks him he tells Annabel “you must think me neurotic” for being so upset over the blood on his hand. This feels, so specific and intentional to me. Not just because Annabel dealt with her anxiety and her dad treating her panic attacks like he did, and this is a whole “omg look they’re bonding” moment, but bc, immediately after he tries to assure her that “im not, you know, im perfectly sane” like shit like this has happened before, where ppl called him neurotic for being that sick at the sight of his own blood, or that obsessed with hygiene. The irony being that, he spent his life obsessing over staying healthy, so much so that people called him neurotic, only to die that slow gory death anyway.

That whole, prospero dying from tb tangent aside tho, how it correlates to the time of his death. He probably died in the early 1900s, the earliest being 1901-1906ish, bc again, that’s when espresso started gaining popularity. My guess is he died around the 20s, ik the tb vaccine came out around the 20s, but people still died of it after and are still dying/contracting it today, and in the 20s there were a lot of Italians emigrating to America, and prospero is so aggressively Italian American (eating espresso and cannoli with chocolate chips for his last meal) that it’d make sense. So woo!

Monty - 1910s

Monty is a cowwwwboyyyyyy. The Wild West pretty much tapered out around the early 1900s. He can’t be that recent. He also mentions calamity Jane so that definitely puts him past the 1800s. He seemed to have a pretty wild life, kicked in the head by a horse, tooth knocked out by a human, tied to train tracks and left for dead after calling the pastors daughter loose. crazy guy crazy time

Will ???

Will is so plain i cannot get a read on where hes from im sorry

obligatory thank you for making it to the end, I barely made it myself, this was sitting in my drafts for weeks before I decided to just get it over with. <<333

[block-tales-playerswap-au]

oh chaaaaatt...

welcome to the Block Tales Playerswap AU! a lot of information on this AU comes from my main blog, @inkedover! this blog will ALSO follow the timeline of the quotev PS fic, so wherever the chapter is currently stopped is where the blog is chronologically.

and the aforementioned quotev fic would be here.

Currently:

Asks/Roleplay inbox for EVERYBOOOODYYYYY are OPEEEENNNN!!! If a character isn't listed feel free to shoot an ask to/about them anyway, this is a celebration after all!!!

General Location:

Somewhere in Blackrock/The Dream World.

RP character statuses:

Player: Oh dear Roblox I just stole from a child.

Hatred: Annoyed at having to run away with its tail between its legs.

Greed: I WANT MY SHINY THINGS AFDJEIJSKSOEO!!!!!!!

Solitude: What a great way to self-isolate!

Fear: WE'RE NOT OKAY

Red Noob: Absolutely struggling right now.

Blue Noob: Frostbite. And also permanent damage due to frostbite.

Benevolent King: …does anybody have ibuprofen? My head hurts…

Rockstar: Please let this be a normal 'save the world' situation…

Mayor Thaniyel: This is the third major event this year…

Woodsmen: Wondering why music man is bringing his dad to the Sacred Hollow.

Noobador: STOP SHOOTING AT ME.

down below is a synopsis of the story and the plot so far!

this will also include currently not in use tags. actually this just includes the entirety of the tag directory now.

warning, long. .]

Something is deeply wrong.

Something is new. Something that's not supposed to be new.

Following Red and Blue, they see their Uncle Shedletsky dueling against somebody.

Right as Shedletsky gains the upper hand both kids watch in horror as Shedletsky is struck down by his aggressor. A wave of chilling malevolence washes over them as the Player leaves, leaving Red and Blue to contemplate what had happened.

…this day…Blue Noob can swear she remembers it playing out differently. In fact, she can recall the fact that this day isn't supposed to go like this at all-...

Red snaps and begins following the Player. Blue can only helplessly follow as her brother traces the bloody path of the Player, only stopping when a mysterious figure sweeps them up into a surprisingly warm embrace and brings them to safety in the Ye Olde Inn.

Meanwhile, Player is having a mental breakdown. The voices they hear in their head...they were loud. Incessant. They wanted more. They wanted everything.

It doesn't matter what sacrifices needed to be made to achieve these goals.

Aaaand story stops about here!

all tags currently:

Red Noob: #raring red (general character tag)

Blue Noob: #bashful blue (general character tag)

Benevolent King: #frigid crown (general character tag)

Player: #persistence leads you forward (general character tag)

Hatred: #the hatred from within (general character tag) and #"Builderman?" (disguised tag)

Greed: #the greed that drives you forward (general character tag) and #$hedletsky (disguised tag)

Solitude: #the solitude that holds you back (general character tag) and #Mr. Cassel (disguised tag)

Fear: #the fear that holds you down (general character tag) and #Nighteyes (disguised tag)

Rockstar: #Your Sorry Superstar (general character tag)

Mayor Thaniyel: #Guardian of the Venomshank (general character tag)

Woodsmen: #The trees are talking?! (general character tag)

Noobador: #Coming in with the steel chair!!! (general character tag)

Kyoko: #The Therapist Friend (general character tag)

Green Noob and Purple Noob: #green thug and #purple noob (general character tags)

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

trick or treat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hiiiii friend. you like traffic life right? i hope you do and that im not misremembering that. here's a rewrite of the first and only chapter of a queerplatonic Galaxy Duo AU that i abandoned and want to go back to

Freezing to death hurts a lot less this time, Pearl thought. Maybe because I've gotten so close before.

She wasn't sure if she'd been there for ten minutes or ten days. The stench of smoke and gunpowder still clung to the inside of her nose, but she didn't know if she was imagining it in her grief. Was this grief? She didn't know.

He's gone.

She was still too shell-shocked to process more than a little bit of the world at a time. The scattered sensations filled in her world slowly, an almost pointillist picture of her surroundings. She was on her hands and knees. Her knees were wet and cold. So were her hands. She could feel them scuffed in dirt as well. The snow. She was in the snow. She was freezing cold; her hoodie was thin and torn in places.

When Scott had shut her out, she'd found comfort in tormenting him. She'd replaced the warmth of his embrace with the chill of the ice, the electricity of his touch with the tingling of frostbite setting in. It had become her protection against a world that did not care. But now, her security blanket did nothing to shield her. It was killing her.

She needed a hug. She hadn't had a hug in a long time, not since before the soulmates, when she... where was she before? She must have been there with Scott, because she could faintly remember what he was like before he started being so cold to her. But the details were gone. The only thing that had shown her affection in recent memory was the wolves.

The wolves.

Were they still alive? She didn't hear them over the sound of Scott's last words or her own scream filling her ears like thick tar. Were they far enough away from the blast? She wanted to look for them, but she didn't want to open her eyes. Seeing his body once was enough; the explosion hadn't made what was left of him pretty.

She felt empty. She had thought she'd known what loneliness was like, but clearly she was wrong, because now she could feel a physical gap in her soul, an aching wound where there used to be him. The drip-feed of his pain, his sorrow, his love, all of it was gone. She'd told herself she wanted to be rid of him, but actually losing the connection felt like losing a sense.

I should be dead, she thought dimly. She'd seen soulmates die before; it happened instantly. She remembered how Etho's body had contorted in the air, his bones shattering against nothing as Joel slammed into the earth. She remembered how Martyn's cries for help had cut off the instant Cleo's neck snapped against the tree, axe still buried in their back. When Scott had exploded, she should have done the same.

Maybe she had. Maybe the agony she was feeling now was all one eternal moment, the instant between when he died and when she would. More torture inflicted on her by an actively malicious universe.

"Pearl?" someone said quietly.

It was Scott's voice. She laughed, high and thin and hollow. "Oh. I am dead."

"Death doesn't matter for us anymore," he said. "Not quite like it used to."

"Either I'm dead or I'm losing my mind," she said. "Because you're dead."

"I am," he said. "So are you. But we're still here."

She heard the crunching of boots against snow as he walked over and sat down next to her. "So what comes next for you?" he asked, with a gentleness she'd never heard directed towards her before.

"I sit here and I freeze," she said. "I think it's what I deserve."

"I don't agree," he said. "Why do you think that?"

"Because they're dead," she said. "You and Cleo and Martyn and Ren and Grian and Scar and Etho and Impulse and BDubs and anyone who was nice to me for even a second. They're all dead, mostly because of me." Her tears felt hot against her face, though she was sure they froze when they hit the icy ground. "Ren was right. There's something wicked within me. "

"Maybe," he said. "But I don't think that makes the rest not worth saving."

They were both quiet.

"Can I hug you?" he said. "I missed you."