#Except when he threw a snowball at him

[killuaisaprincess]

no thorns

Warm…

Everything feels a little fuzzy, so he stumbles forward and leans into Gon’s chest.

Warmer…

Killua nuzzles his head against Gon’s chest, and Gon stares down as Killua mumbles.

“…just let me stay like this…”

Gon smiles softly and nods.

“Alright.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Snowball Fight Taken Too Far » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Week of December 8th-14th

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky accidentally takes a snowball fight a too far.

Warnings: none except Fluff

Prompt: Playing in the snow from @buck-star’s Fluffy Winter Event

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

Divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

“The snow looks so beautiful.” You say, admiring the way the snow looks covering everything in the park.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Bucky says.

You couldn’t help but giggle at your boyfriend’s cheesiness.

You and Bucky were walking hand in hand in the park. You grinned to yourself when you got an idea. Bucky looked down at you at the same time the grin appeared on your face. He knows that grin all too well. It’s the grin you have on your face when you’re about to do something mischievous.

“Doll…” He warns.

“I’m not doing anything, Bucky.” You giggled.

You let go of Bucky’s hand and bent down to pick up some snow, packing it into a ball. Bucky watched your every move.

“You better not.” He warns again.

You continued to grin and threw the snowball at him, hitting his shoulder. Bucky chuckles lowly.

“You just started a war, doll face.” Bucky says.

“Bring it on, Sergeant.” You grinned.

Bucky picked up some snow and threw it at you. You managed to dodge it.

“You should know I have cat like reflexes!” You say.

You squeaked when he threw another snowball at you, hitting your arm.

“What were you saying about cat like reflexes, doll?” Bucky chuckles.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at the ex assassin. You picked up snow and threw it at him. Bucky shielded himself with his vibranium arm.

“That’s not fair!” You stomped your foot like a child. “You can’t use your vibranium arm as a shield! That’s cheating!” You whined.

Bucky chuckles at your whiny words. Both of you picked up snow at the same time. This time, Bucky threw the snowball with his vibranium hand. The snowball hit you in the face, making you yelp and drop your snowball. You covered your face with your hands. Bucky’s heart dropped and his eyes widened when he realized what he just did.

“I am so sorry, babydoll!” Bucky quickly apologizes. “I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” He says.

“It’s ok, Bucky.” You say, your voice muffled by your hands.

Bucky gently pulled your hands away from your face. Your face was red from the impact of the snowball.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes again.

“It’s ok.” You said, your teeth chattering slightly. “Can we go home please?” You asked softly.

Bucky nodded and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him as you two walked home. He felt bad for how hard he threw the snowball at you. He didn’t mean to throw it that hard. He just wanted to have fun with you.

When you two got home, you two changed into dry and comfortable clothes. You sat down on the couch and flipped through the channels on the TV for a Christmas movie to watch. Bucky joined you a couple minutes later and sat down next to you.

“Are you mad at me?” Bucky asks.

“Why would I be mad at you, baby?” You asked.

“I threw a snowball at your face.” He says with guilt in his voice.

“It was an accident, Bucky.” You say.

“But I hurt you.” He says, feeling disappointed in himself.

You put the remote on the coffee table and maneuvered yourself so you were facing him.

“Baby boy, listen to me.” You began, holding his hands. “It was an accident. I know you didn’t mean to.” You almost whispered. “I also I know you didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” You say.

Bucky looked down at your hands and rubbed his thumbs against the backs of them.

“You always know the right things to say, doll.” Bucky smiles.

“That’s why you love me.” You smiled back.

Bucky leans in and kissed you softly and sweetly.

“I love you, babydoll.” Bucky murmurs softly.

“I love you too, baby.” You murmured. “How about you make us hot chocolate and I’ll find us a Christmas movie to watch.” You suggested softly.

“That sounds amazing to me, doll.” He smiles, kissing you once more before making you two hot chocolate.

-Bucky’s Doll

[ceilidho]

How do you think coworker Johnny would react to reader having found a new retail job and turning in their 2 weeks notice?

He finds out through a coworker obviously. You’re smart enough not to just tell him. Like you’re perceptive enough and you’ve worked with Johnny long enough to know that he, at best, has a work crush on you, and, at worst, has a debilitating obsession with you that crosses far beyond the boundaries of work and threatens to escalate if you don’t get out and move jobs quick.

You don’t see his reaction first hand, but you see the aftermath of it. A hole in the wall in the break room where he supposedly picked up a chair and threw it across the room. You heard he got sent home for the day after that (surprising - management doesn’t usually make him take accountability for his actions since he’s their favourite employee).

It’s a toss up whether he’d do something like follow you to your next job or somehow sabotage your new job. Maybe slashes your tires on the morning of your first shift so you’re forced to take the bus, which makes you over an hour late. That terrible first impression snowballs the rest of your first week as well and you’re eventually let go, forced to go crying back to your previous employer and beg for your job back. Except they already backfilled your position, so your old role is no longer available. But oh look, Johnny, their model employee (maybe their new floor supervisor if he just got promoted), was just so fond of you back when you worked at the store that he’s asked if he could take you on as an assistant.

They don’t usually give supervisors assistants, but management just loves Johnny so they’re happy to do him this favour. And he’s ecstatic to see you again when you come in for your first shift back, practically beaming from ear to ear, eyes almost a little shiny like he might cry, and he drags you into a big hug, arms wrapping around you and dragging you into his chest. Even nuzzles his face into your hair (like a coworker absolutely shouldn’t, never mind your now boss) and whispers into your ear how much he missed you. And how he’s not going to pussyfoot around anymore now that you’re back.

[hey-august]

Putting Buggy in my favorite tired old romcom trope and imagining him trying to set up a „perfect“ date where he tries his best to come across as a well mannered, bright, conventionally handsome gentleman, because he thinks that’s what YOU would want him to be. He knows he scored this date out of pity, but once he’s done with this evening, you’ll see him as more than a joke of a man, he can do it!

Cue slapstick scenarios en masse, causing him to loose his temper at least once, trying to impress you with a fact that YOU correct him on and that’s just so obviously wrong and an accident that leaves him with only half an eyebrow, singed tips and the wax nose (ESSENTIAL TO HIS PLAN! If he could get rid of that eyesore in the middle of his face he may have had at least a snowball chance in hell with you) to finally abandon ship and melt right of his face.

And you’re enjoying yourself tremendously. You had your doubts when Buggy came in looking so unlike himself, trying to be something he’s not, but now? After all that chaos and one candle accident later? Now that you’re sharing the bottle of wine he snagged before hauling out of the fancy place he tried to wine and dine you at, sitting on the beach laughing about everything and nothing? Perfect date. Would do again. You absolutely love that clown shit.

ADORABLE. PRECIOUS. LOVELY.

LET'S EXPLORE THIS CONCEPT SOME MORE, ANON.

WC: ~800 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, some profanity, drinking, that's about it

Of course it’s a pity date - that’s the only reason you agreed so readily. It’s definitely not because Buggy blurted out the question before you had a chance to ask him on a date. And the way you choked on your drink? That had to be because you thought it was a joke. Not because you were surprised and excited.

Let’s not talk about everything leading up to the date itself. Like how all his “good” shirts were dirty or wrinkled. One smelled like old hot dogs. So he had to borrow a shirt and it was fine. Kind of plain, though. Not flashy. Plain white cotton, but at least it fit.

And his hair. A low ponytail would suit the occasion. Hopefully you wouldn’t notice his greasy roots. Buggy ran out of time to wash his hair because of everything else he was working on. Mainly the nose. He sculpted it out of wax and it looked… It would probably look alright during a candlelit dinner.

Buggy just needed to get through the dinner, prove himself as a decent guy, score a second date, maybe a kiss or two, and that’s all. Not too much to ask for, right?

Well…he forgot to bring you flowers. He showed up empty handed (except for the sweat collecting in his palms). You didn’t say anything, but he’s certain you noticed and were adding it to The List of Failures. And that’s only the start of his panicking.

Next, Buggy demanded a table. That table. Yeah, the one that is already occupied. Fine, okay, this table is alright. He wanted the darker corner since it was more intimate (not so he could hide his nose or the sweat stains in his pits), but whatever. 

Then he demanded the good wine. The real shit, not that cheap boxed shit. And he can tell the difference! Which is true, Buggy is a boxed wine connoisseur. Well…here’s the thing. Smell and taste are tied together, and that wax nose was more decorational than practical. Some words were had over the wine, before the sommelier brought over a dusty unopened bottle for Buggy to inspect and give gruff approval for.

You tried to interrupt and say the other wine was just as good (and far less expensive), but Buggy was too eager to please and too nervous to back down. 

The rest happened in a blur. Buggy doesn’t remember much. He might have talked over the waiter explaining the day’s specials. He definitely kicked the table a few times while trying to sit comfortably. Maybe he laughed a little too loudly and another table told him to be quiet. And maybe he threw a bread roll at that table.

Buggy definitely remembers knocking over your glass of water, though. It was an accident. He was reaching for your hand for some dumb reason and your drink got in the way. Of course he wanted to help, so he leapt out of his chair, kicking the table yet again, and pretty much threw his napkin at you.

And in this chaos, he must have leaned over the table too long. Over the tealight. Even though it was a small candle, and it was only a few seconds, his glob of wax was ready to make a grand exit. It was already barely clinging to his sweaty oily skin, and this was the right time to just -PLOP- right into a puddle of water on the table.

But here’s the thing that you’ll take to your grave. Seeing Buggy hunched over the messed up tablescape, hands over his face, and looking downright mortified and murderous - well, it made your heart pitter-patter.

Buggy looked like himself, for the first time that night. That “nose” was not really your preference, so hiding the middle of his face from view reminded you of how much you were crushing on the cute clown.

Dinner was over at this point. Staff was walking over, the table with an extra roll was also shouting for Buggy to be ejected, there was broken glass on the table. It was time to go.

Ending the night on the seashore was a much better way to spend your first date with Buggy. He had pulled out his red nose from a pocket so he could actually enjoy the wine. Surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste any better and he lamented not throwing it at the sommelier before leaving.

You’re glad he didn’t though. Because then you wouldn’t get to watch him drink from the bottle under the moonlight. His adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Drops of liquid escaping from the corners of his lips and starting a journey down. That white shirt was now unbuttoned (so his armpits to dry out) and rolled at the sleeves. 

And, well - damn.

Buggy was definitely getting a second date and a few kisses. Maybe something a little extra for dessert.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Prompt: Snow | @moonwater-microfic | Words: 839

As they broke apart from a fleeting hug, Remus felt a warmth inside him that really had nothing to do with the many layers he was wearing. He felt so loved, so enraptured, so- taken aback by the sudden look of disgust on Regulus' face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brow furrowing as a dozen fears circled through his mind - each more worrisome than the last.

"You've got-" Regulus appeared to pause, and cleared his throat. "Dandruff."

He felt his eyes widen in response. Needless to say, that hadn't made it onto Remus' list of things to worry about. Heck, he'd washed his hair that very morning.

Remus removed a glove from his hand, and ran his fingers through his hair. When he surveyed his palm, his skin was damp and glistening.

"That's just snow," he said with a small laugh, fixing his gaze back on Regulus.

Regulus' expression remained uncertain. "Snow?"

"Yeah…" he replied slowly, "The white stuff that falls from the sky-"

"I know what snow is," he grumbled, frowning petulantly. Regulus hated being made to feel like a fool, but Remus hadn't been able to help himself.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked in return, no longer laughing. The trace of a smile still adorned his face, but it had given way to a look of intrigue. "Have you seen it before?"

Regulus paused, and Remus suspected he was waiting to figure out if Remus was making fun of him again, before he shook his head. "I mean, I've seen it on the ground after waking up. Or when it's turned to ice. But never… nothing like- Hey, what are you doing?" He was distracted by Remus suddenly grasping his hand and pulling him in the direction of the main entrance. "Remus, stop. Get off me, someone's going to see-"

Remus obliged, letting go of his hand once he was sure Regulus was still following him at pace, and the pair stopped only once they were both outside. A fresh layer of snow coated the ground, where students had walked only minutes before - a testament to how fast the snow was falling.

Looking out, Regulus couldn't see too far in front of him for the snow was coming down so suddenly, and yet he couldn't really feel it hitting him though he was sure it must be. Everything around him, except for the whomping willow which stood out in quite a contrast, was sheathed in white.

Remus, who would have been appreciating the snow too on just about any other occasion, watched the wonder and awe on Regulus' face; his heart leapt at the gentle 'O' Regulus' lips made as he looked about him in surprise.

"It's marvellous," he said, quietly, though Remus heard him quite clearly.

"It's-" but whatever else it was, Regulus didn't get to find out. A ball of snow had hit Remus squarely in the face.

"Gotcha!" a familiar voice cheered, followed by Sirius' unmistakable cry of 'nice one, James'.

"I guess I should be going," Regulus said, watching as his brother and James shared a high five before bending over to collect more snow.

"Don't be daft," Remus disputed, once he was done shaking the snow off himself. "Here-" he threw what little snow he'd managed to collect, at Regulus. "You've got to be on my team - you can't leave me now! Come on. Your brother won't know what hit him."

"Well,  I suspect it'll be snow-" Regulus disputed dryly, but he allowed himself to be led away from the main door and into the midst of what appeared to be a very intense snowball fight.

Two hours later, they, along with the other students who'd been involved, were laughing as they made their way back towards the castle. Regulus' hair, soaked, clung to the sides of his face and his hands were pink with cold. His wet gloves sat defeated in one of Remus' pockets.

"So, your first snowfall - and snowball fight - at Hogwarts. Did you have fun?" Remus asked him kindly.

"I did," he agreed, drawing to a stop once the castle doors came into view. "Thank you," he said, leaning towards Remus. Their cold lips met, though not before they'd both shivered as cold noses met flushed cheeks.

As they pulled away, Regulus gaze fell upon something over Remus' shoulder.

"What's-" But he didn't get to ask. A ball of snow hit Remus squarely on the back of the head.

"And that," Sirius' approaching voice proclaimed as he threw an arm over Remus and Regulus' respective shoulders and began walking them forwards, "Is for defiling my brother where I can see."

"I'll be sure to take him into an empty classroom next time," Remus retorted under his breath.

Sirius', who apparently chose now to hear Remus mumbling to himself clearly, looked positively scandalised. It was mirrored by Regulus' look of horror.

Needless to say, Remus could expect to be reprimanded by both brothers before the day was out.

At least they'd had a memorable day.

[hoonvrs]

‘TIS THE SEASONS

PAIRING enha × gnr

DESC. how you’d spend christmas with enha

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNING swearing, play fighting

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES falalalalaaaalalalalaa

LEE HEESEUNG

( ice skating )

people often forget how good hee is good at ice skating with a professional ice skater in his group

but when he found out you were okay at best, insisted you had to go together 

i think he’d prefer to be holding hands skating together instead of teaching you from square one

would feel his heart fluttering from seeing you so happy on the ice

insists on holding your hand ‘just in case’

does it so he can have you close the whole time

regrets it instantly when you slip and pull him down with you

somehow still finds it romantic that you both now have matching bruises 

PARK JONGSEONG

( cuddling/hot chocolate galore )

as much as he loves cooking, he’d prefer to order in on christmas 

but of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not in the kitchen at all

saw a tiktok of different hot chocolate recipes and got hooked

convinced you that you guys needed to try them all for your movie date

got a different hot chocolate to have with a different movie

tried to theme it but tried too hard and messed up the designs 

best hot chocolate of your life but best believe you could barely finish the fourth one

anything to make jay happy, and he repaid by cuddling under heaps of blankets the whole night

SIM JAEYUN

( baking/decorating gingerbread )

jake doesn’t have a single baking bone in his body

don’t know what possessed him to think he could make gingerbread from scratch

gingerbread tastes like ass, good thing you already bought ready-made dough

everything becomes a competition between you two and this was no exception

challenged who can make the best gingerbread men and house

by the end, you have jellies, sprinkles, and other sweets all over the floor and table

somehow also ends up on the christmas tree???

turns out jake also can’t decorate so his house looked like a hot mess that you keep for display on the mantle next to yours

PARK SUNGHOON

( christmas market date )

begged you to go to the market on charismas day

both wearing your biggest scarves and fluffiest gloves cause its cold as fuck outside

practically dragged you the second he saw a churro stand

refuses to leave until you both tried nearly all the stands

walks along the river with a steaming hot drink in your hands

stay to admire the lights 

would put your hands in his pockets if you say you’re cold

refuses to let you spend a single penny cause he’s the best boyfriend ever

KIM SUNWOO

( cooking together )

sunoo has always wanted to cook with his s/o finding the intimacy cute

what better occasion than a christmas dinner

gets recipes and a few practice classes from his jay hyung a few days before so he’s prepared for you

you walk in on all the ingredients and bowls laid out with a smiley sunoo in the middle

could never refuse him anything when he asked to cook together so cutely 

went in overestimating both of your cooking abilities in making two dishes never mind five

three hours later you finally have your meal ready

actually wasn’t bad, so worth it seeing how proud he was renouncing himself as ‘enhypens new cook’ but don’t tell jay

YANG JUNGWON

( playing/fighting in the snow )

your date with jungwon didn’t mean to end in the snow

started when you threw a snowball at him after your little restaurant date

as much as he loves you, he also loves winning

thus, commencing the biggest snow fight of your life

talking rapid fire shots -- no survivors 

would stop when he hits you in the face by accident and goes to check up on you

worried thinking he hurt you until you flip last second and throw one back square in the face

ends with you guys making snow angels before going home both cold and wet

NISHIMURA RIKI

( tree decorating )

you almost had an aneurism when you saw the tree was still bare and it was already the 25th

screw all your plans’ you guys were going to decorate the tree instead

take a little trip to the closest shop to get a few missing decorations

can’t do anything with your boyfriend without a few playful arguments

ends with the tree having three different tinsel colours that clash cause neither of you would back down

every other bulb was a printed meme because riki doesn’t believe in separating decoration and humour

of course, lifts you up by the waist to put the star on the top because you’re his star

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss

[cntoesussie]

Mercs in the snow (team snowfort 2)

Scout:

goes out in shorts

regrets everything

comes back within 5 seconds

cries when he finds out there's no hot cocoa

Soldier:

my guy's making a snowman

then 2

then 5

then 50

and then a snow raccoon

despite his destructive nature, he's really good at building snowpeople

oh and now he's killing them all

except for the raccoon

Pyro

does not like the snow

water is their only weakness

stays inside and watches with a camera

they're uploading it to youtube

Demoman:

left a couple bottles outside last night for this very occasion

making snowmen with Soldier except they get progressively worse because he's drinking the snow scrumpy

passes out in the snow

wAIT HE'S GONNA FREEZE-

they almost forget about him and bring him back inside nearly 30 minutes after they first went in

Heavy:

nothing special to him

he does what needs to be done (like shoveling the driveway)

but SOMEONE does the unthinkable and hits him with a snowball

oh man they messed up

he's going to pelt them with snowballs relentlessly

Engineer:

building the best snow fort known to man

hehe team snowfort 2

it has all the works (including heating somehow)

he's drinking hot cocoa in there and chilling

when Scout finds out he's gonna be pissed

Medic:

testing how long he can survive in the snow with nothing but long undies on him

he finds out that it's not very long

goes into the team snowfort 2 with Engie to warm up and think about his life decisions

Sniper:

he's not used to snow being in the early months of the year

so this is odd to him

he's been hitting people with snow from afar

he's literally jamming one of his low-quality rifles with snow and shooting people with it

god bless

Spy:

he somehow disguised himself as a snowball and threw himself at Heavy

After getting absolutely decimated, he decided to grab an icicle and sneak into team snowfort 2

1 dead (Spy)

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

I’m highly curious to see what everyone's reaction to seeing snow and or playing with it is like. Snow ball fights, building snow man, drinking hot coco, etc.

Sorry for taking so long to respond! Anyways, here's how all the rescued toys would react to seeing snow for the first time:

First things first! They're rescued when it's still autumn, so when snow arrives, Angel is still living with them on the small house, and not the future farm.

Catnap and Dogday were talking outside the house, during the early hours of the night, when they noticed something white falling from the sky. They were really young when they last saw snow, so they both panicked and called Angel. They came outside, holding Bunzo, and said "oh, it's the first snow of the year".

Almost all the toys tried to eat snow at first before Angel asked them to NOT do that. They watched as everyone went outside to see it.

Bunzo was fascinated. Jumping non-stop while pointing at it and going "it's raining white!". Delight explained to him what that was, but she was very distracted staring at the skies as well.

In a way, this was a sign of hope and real change for the kids, just like experiencing rain for the first time was. Delight cried a bit as the realness of the situation sunk in.

The following day, Angel took the toys outside. And, oooh, boy.

Bunzo, the mini wuggies and critters, Huggy, PJ and Boxy Boo were screaming and jumping non-stop. Other smaller toys joined them, rolling in the snow in excitement.

Dogday likes digging snow. He thinks it's relaxing, despite Kickin annoying him about it. And speaking of which, Kickin was still on his "I'm not going to show any feelings" phase, so he tried to pretend he wasn't mesmerized by the snow.

Bubba and Delight were looking at snowflakes to see if they really weren't equal to each other. Marie and Kickin ended up joining them out of curiosity.

Catnap spent some time trying to make sense of the snow, until Angel showed him how to build a snowman. Picky, Bobby and Crafty joined them, making little snow sculptures.

Poppy never actually liked snow all that much, but at this point in time she's absolutely thriving. REALLY wants to go ice skating as soon as possible, but for now she's making snow angels... And then decides to get Kissy to hit Huggy with a snowball.

Hoppy, who was watching over the younger ones, immediately saw this and, as the responsible one, threw a snowball at Poppy. The situation became an all-out war between everyone, with Hoppy being the main culprit into getting others to join them.

Somehow, no one could defeat Angel. Truly a king.

After that, Angel made everyone hot cocoa. They do NOT like the cold, mind you, but the kids seem so happy, they can't complain.

The following year, when everyone is at the farmhouse and it starts snowing, they keep on making family-wide snowball fights. No one is safe from Hoppy and Kickin. Except Angel because, again, they're pretty good at dodging things, and Long Legs, girl is a MONSTER, but outside of her NO ONE is safe.

Dogday helps Angel a lot to make sure the house is protected from the cold, but then Kickin and Hoppy drag him away so he can have "fun".

(he has so much fun hiding things in the snow for others to find)

The Prototype is also there by that point. He's indifferent to the cold, but he likes making snow sculptures. As time goes by and his relationship with the family gets better, he ends up joining the snowball fights. He always ends up on the floor while everyone swarms him.

Angel ALWAYS forces everyone to wear way more jackets than what they need. They may be from Brazil's south region but they do not TOLERATE snow-level temperatures. Unfortunately this means that two/three years post-rescue, the Prototype becomes Angel go-to guy when everyone is outside because he's surprisingly warm on his fleshy area. Angel just stays next to him trembling and is like "God I fucking hate this weather", and Proto is just "then go inside...?", only for Angel to eye him. They are NOT missing the chance to see the kids happy, okay?

[joels-shitty-puns]

Melt With You

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Based on this request! "Just a soft and romantic winter night besides the fireplace with kisses and long talks..."

Warnings: Fluff, kisses, cursing.

Word count: 1k

_____

You climbed into the passenger seat of Pedro's car, throwing the shopping bags in the back seat with a groan. Pedro turned the key in the ignition and immediately you clicked the AC on full blast, only to be met with hot air. “UGHHHH,” you grumbled angrily. “WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HOT!?!” You clipped your seatbelt in a rage.

The two of you had just gone holiday shopping in the middle of December, not that you could tell based on the weather. If someone didn't know the date, they'd think it was June. The midday heat was baking your skin, the thermometer in your boyfriend’s car reading 80° Fahrenheit. California had some exceptional views and often nice weather, making for some great beach days... But when it's December and all you hear on the radio are songs like “Let it Snow” and “Winter Wonderland,” it was hard to feel wintery when the outside didn't reflect that at all.

“I know, baby. It doesn't really feel like the holidays when we're out here melting,” he settled his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The air conditioning had finally started to cool, along with your anger, and you gave a sigh. “I just want to sit by a fire with you and watch the snow fall outside the window,” you leaned your face into your palm, resting against the window. “It just doesn't really feel like the holidays right now.” Pedro turned his face away from the road to look at you briefly, reaching to take your other hand from your lap.

“Baby, I have an idea,” he answered you, kissing your knuckles.

_____

Two days later, you were packing a bag full of warm clothes, getting ready for a cozy weekend away in the California mountains. The drive was a couple hours long, but you were so excited to spend a relaxing weekend away with Pedro that you couldn't stop smiling. The radio buzzed away, playing holiday music, and before long, the station lost service through the mountain road.

“Sleigh bells ring, are you listening..” Pedro began, singing just above hearing volume into the now silent car.

“In the lane, snow is glistening…” you smiled at him, singing the next response.

“A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,” he squeezed your hand, “Walkin' in a winter wonderland,” you harmonized.

Finally the two of you reached the house, a quaint little cabin off the main road, next to the forest. It was surrounded by thick pine trees freshly dusted with snow, and the flakes were starting to come down heavier now. Your grin spread across your face as you jumped out of the car like a child at the playground and instantly scooped up a snowball.

SMACK, you hit Pedro on his back with the fluffy ball, watching it explode into a mess of frost on his shirt. Pedro, who was unloading the bags from the trunk, turned in offense. “You did not just throw a snowball at me when I'm pulling your suitcase out of the trunk,” he laughed, immediately reaching down to scoop one up in defense. “And in the back, no less!” He threw the snowball directly at your chest, with a thump. “Like a coward,” he smirked, throwing a second snowball he had formed at the same time as the first.

You gasped in shock, “oh now you're gonna GET IT!!!” You quickly bent down to create another frosty weapon, but when you looked up, he had started to run away through the snow.

“And I'm the coward!?” You bellowed, your voice echoing through the mountain air.

You began to toss another ball, but before the perfectly aimed shot hit him again, he dove to the side in the snow, dodging it narrowly and hiding behind a tree trunk.

He let out an evil cackle. “Good luck getting me now, baby!” You saw him peek around the tree before bending down to scoop some ammo.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck closer, hiding behind a shed and running around to the other side for a sneak attack.

“Babe? Where'd you go?” Pedro asked loudly.

Jumping out from your hiding place, you charged him, throwing four snowballs at him, one after the other.

He screamed, snow in his mouth, his hair, his shirt, his pants. 

“You DEVIL!” He laughed before jumping up and chasing after you, tackling you into the fluffy powder below.

The snow at your back was freezing through your coat and pants, but with his warm body on top, pressed into you, you felt nice and toasty. It quickly lit a fire into you, and you pulled the collar of his thick jacket down towards you, pulling him into a deep kiss. 

“I love you,” you smiled, breaking the kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He pecked your lips gently. “Even if you do play dirty.”

“It's not my fault you suck at snowball wars,” you grinned, your teeth beginning to chatter as the snow seeped through your clothing.

“Let's go inside,” he rolled over, grabbing your arm and pulling you up with him.

You walked into the cabin, taking off your wet clothes and quickly changing into some sweats and a hoodie.

Pedro changed as well, throwing on a flannel and gray sweatpants. You stared, eyeing him from head to toe as he grabbed some logs and a lighter before starting a fire. The fireplace was next to the plush loveseat, a fluffy rug on the floor in front of it. The chimney was made of gray rock and was easily one of the most gorgeous fireplaces you had ever seen. With the fire finally roaring, you sat on the couch, grabbing a large, thick blanket. Pedro settled in beside you, leaning back and pulling you into his chest before tucking the blanket gently around your bodies. 

“Thank you for this,” you sighed, tilting your head back to kiss his lips before leaning against his shoulders.

“I needed this too,” he replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around your body. 

With the fire crackling a few feet away and your boyfriend snuggled tightly against you, you felt your temperature warming. But unlike the other day, this heat felt right. The two of you chatted and cuddled, kisses sprinkled throughout, before eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

[sorinethemastermind]

Fluffcember 2024: Snow Man | Rayllum & Sorvus Callum is determined to ask Rayla to be his girlfriend this Winter Break. But if he can't even start a fire, how is he supposed to create the perfect moment? Soren has decided to stay on campus this Christmas, but with Rayla and Callum as his only company, he's starting to feel like a third wheel. Except maybe it's not just the three of them left on campus after all...

 "Callum!" 

 "Mmf- What?" Callum rolled over, pulling the pillow onto his face. Wasn't the whole point of Winter Break that you didn't have to get up first thing in the morning? That you could take a break?

 "Callum! It's snowing!" Soren called through the door, banging on it with his fist.

 "So?"

 "So your girlfriend is standing outside with snow in her hair, waiting for you!"

 Callum tumbled out of his bed, hitting the floor hard, legs still tangled in his blanket.

 "I'll be right out!" he shouted. "Also, she's not my girlfriend!"

 Yet, he added.

 "Yeah, sure, whatever. We're going to go make snowmen!" Soren called, voice already receding down the hall.

 Callum hurriedly pulled on some clothes and threw on a jacket. He was halfway down the hall when he realized he hadn't brushed his teeth, swiveled, and bolted back the way he'd come. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he decided to grab a hat and scarf on his way back out the door.

 When he stepped outside his feet sank into nearly a foot of snow, his socks soaking through instantly.

 "Oh, come on." he groaned, attempting to shake off his sneakers.

 "Callum!"

 Cold toes and wet socks forgotten, he glanced up to see Rayla standing a few feet away, beanie half fallen off her head and hair fluffy around her face. It was filled with snow, the little flecks barely lighter than her white-blond hair. He smiled at her, feeling his face warm. He knew he must have looked a fool, but couldn't care less. Not when she was so...

 The snowball hit him square in the face.

 "Aha! Gotchu!" Soren shouted victoriously, jumping up from behind a nearby hedge. Callum shook the snow out of his hair, shivering as some of it melted and ran down his neck.

 He stooped, scooping up a snowy handful of his own, and was about to retaliate when-

 "Ahh! Cold!" 

 Callum glanced up - packing the snow together even as he did - to find Rayla laughing. She'd snuck up behind Soren on those silent feet of hers and dumped a handful of snow down the back of his jacket.

 "Alright, alright." Soren shivered, taking his jacket off and shaking the snow out of it. "Truce."

 Rayla winked at Callum as she replied. "Truce."

 Callum grinned, crossing the field to stand beside them both. Rayla leaned over and whispered into his ear; "For now."

 "You know," Callum played with the snowball in his hand. "this snow would be perfect for snowmen."

 "Yes!" Rayla's eyes lit up. "Callum, that's a great idea." 

 "I propose a contest." Soren said, holding up a finger. "The best snow creation gets, uhhh, no. The loser gets pelted with snowballs!"

 "You two are going down." Rayla said, dropping to the ground. Her arms were already full of snow, and by the time Calum had chosen a spot to build his own snow creation, she had a base made.

 "How are you doing that so quickly?" he asked, packing snow as quickly as he could, hands already freezing. 

 "My Dads and I do this every year." Rayla told him. "Ethari is really good at it. I might have picked up a few tricks."

 Callum glanced at his own, thinking distinctly that he had not picked up any tricks and that he was in desperate need of them. His only consolation was that Soren's looked worse.

 "Soren, what is that?" Rayla asked, leaning around her quickly accumulating mountain of snow to peer at the strange formation taking shape in front of Soren.

 "It's a snow dragon." he told them both, continuing to pack snow onto it. It was already rather large.

 "It looks more like a snow hippo." Callum told him.

 "Well, maybe it can be that too."

 Soren sat back to survey the lump of snow (and more than a little mud) in front of him. "Hm."

 "Just accept defeat, the both of you." Rayla said, stepping back to gesture at her somehow perfect snowman. "All I'm missing are the details."

 "Mine is unique." Soren said, haughtily.

 "Uniquely awful." Rayla corrected him, and Callum chuckled.

 "You just wait." Soren said, getting up. Callum continued packing snow onto his, muttering under his breath as some of it fell away.

 How did they do that so quickly?

 "Race you to the kitchens!" Rayla shouted, taking off. Soren ran after her, leaving Callum to continue throwing snow at his oddly shaped lump of... of...

 He was making a snow hippopotamus, Callum decided. That was why it looked like that. By the time Rayla got back, he was almost done adding it’s legs.

 "Oh, Callum, that looks good!" she said, dropping back down beside her own creation. She snapped the carrot she was holding in half, sticking the different parts onto the top of it's head.

 "Thanks." he said, tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth in concentration. He just hoped it didn't freeze that way.

 Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rayla take a bottle of olives from her pocket and he paused, blinking, to sit up and watch what she was doing.

 She stuck several onto it's face, and then a few down the snowman's front. 

 "The kitchen didn't have cole for some reason." she explained.

 "Can I have a few?"

 Rayla dumped a couple of olives into his hand, the brine they were floating in cold and sticky. Calllum placed them in the eye sockets of his hipp-snow (as he'd dubbed it), then shook the sticky liquid off his hand as quickly as possible. It was already starting to freeze. Along with his hands.

 "Where's Soren? "Callum asked, standing up to survey the field. As fun as this had been, he wanted to get to the judging, pelt Soren with snowballs, and go inside to warm up. He needed his fingers for drawing.

 "He said he had to get one more thing." Rayla said, walking over to stand beside him. "Your, uh-"

 "Hipp-snow." Callum supplied.

 Rayla snorted. "Yes. Your hipp-snow looks very nice."

 "Thank you." Callum smiled at her, walking around to see the front of her creation. 

 "I really like your snowman." his eyes lingered on it's head. "What are the carrots for? Isn't it supposed to be the nose?"

 "It's a snow elf." Rayla told him, slipping her hand into his as she stood beside him. She was cold too, but somehow her touch still filled him with warmth.

 "Oh. Are those the ears?"

 "Horns." she corrected.

 "Elves don't have horns."

 "You don't know that!" Rayal said, reaching out to reposition one of them. 

 Just then Soren arrived, dragging a familiar face behind him. 

 "Oh, hey, Corvus!" Callum raised a hand in greeting. "Come to join the contest?"

 "Corvus is going to be our judge." Soren said, arms filled with carrots. He used them to lay spikes down the back of his dragon. "Since we're all gonna be biased, he offered to do it."

 "Apparently." Corvus said, looking a little lost, as though maybe offered wasn’t quite the right word. Convinced might have fit better.

 "Well, what are the judging criteria?" he asked after a moment. 

 "Originality." Soren said.

 "Craftsmanship." Rayla added.

 "Level of detail." Callum offered.

 "Alright. Well," Corvus walked in a slow loop around all of their snow creations. He stopped in front of Soren's.

 "What is this?"

 "It's a dragon." Soren told him proudly.

 "Uh huh." Corvus walked a few more paces to stop in front of Callum's. "And this?"

 "A hippo-snow."

 Corvus took a moment, then nodded. "I see. Sort of."

 He completed his second loop in front of Rayla's.

 "And this?"

 "It's a snow elf."

 "This one wins." he said, pointing at it. 

 "Yes!" Rayla punched the air. 

 "What!?" Callum and Soren both exclaimed, walking over to stare at her snowy creation.

 "It's the only one I could tell what it was." Corvus explained.

 "Elves don't have horns." Soren said, gesturing at it.

 "You don't know that. And second place..." He walked a few more paces, stopping in front of Callum's. "Is this one."

 Callum high fived Rayla, then they both began grabbing as much snow as their arms could carry.

 "Will you at least tell me why I’ve been sentenced to snowy annihilation?" Soren asked, walking up to stand beside Corvus. 

 "Originality." Corvus said with a small smile. "I'm afraid your own category beat you. It's a hipp-snow."

 The first snowball grazed Corvus' nose as he finished, and Soren ran, calling back over his shoulder.

 "I suggest you run unless you want to share my fate!”

 "Raaa!" Rayla charged past Callum, another snowball already in hand. 

 Corvus ducked out of the way, nearly falling backwards into the snow. Callum walked over and offered him a hand up.

 “How about a coffee?” he asked him.

 Corvus nodded. “Yes. That sounds good. Will he be…”

 He trailed off, and both their gazes followed Soren as he ran and hid behind a hedge, snowballs filling the air around him. Callum shrugged.

 “He’ll be fine. This is just what they’re like.”

 “Alright.” Corvus led the way to the coffee shop.

[vesperspivoine]

Hogwarts Under Snow

Pairing: Platonic!Marauders x GN!Reader

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 736

Summary: It is the first time in their life that y/n is seeing snow in their life and they, along with their friends, mess around in the snow.

It was the first year that y/n was seeing snow in their life. Y/n and their friends, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew ran down the hallways of Hogwarts to play in the snow. They were bundled up in their winter clothes; gloves, hats, scarves and such.

When they reached the entrance of the castle, everything they saw was covered in snow, white and gleaming like pearls. The trees had lost their leaves but snow hung onto their branches.

Snow was falling softly on the ground and some landed on y/n’s clothes. They marveled at the beauty of the tiny snowflakes landing gently on their clothes and evaporating from the heat of their body. They held out their hand to have some land there.

“Look at me,” Sirius said. Once everyone’s attention was on him, he stuck his tongue out to catch some snowflakes on his tongue.

Y/n laughed at Sirius’s stupid move, but when James and Peter joined in, they joined in too.

“You all are going to freeze your tongues,” Remus said.

“Joihn uhs,” y/n said, with their tongue still sticking out.

Remus sighed and after a moment, joined them.

“I chnt cach ani,” Peter complained, spinning around in place.

“Catch this,” Sirius yelled and threw a fist-full of snow at Peter, who shrieked.

Everyone scrambled from their trance of trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue.

“Bloody hell mate, there’s snow inside my clothes ‘cas of you!” Peter whined.

James snickered. He bent down and gathered some snow and shaped it into the shape of a sphere.

“Y/n!” James yelled and threw it at y/n. It struck them, square on the face. Everyone except James stared in silence as y/n wiped the snow off their face.

Y/n started at James and said, calmly, “I declare war.” They ran after James who laughed and sprinted away.

They all ran after James, who yelled that he was a one-man army and didn’t need anyone on his team.  And then he tripped. A thin layer of ice coated some places of the snow and James had run right onto it and had fallen face-first into the snow.

Y/n gasped and carefully made their way to help James up. When y/n reached him, instead of helping him up, they threw a huge snowball at him. Peter shrieked in delight and Sirius whistled. Remus helped a grumpy James up and told him, “This is what you get for messing with people, James.”

Before y/n heard James’ response, they saw Sirius on the snow besides them.

“What are you DOING Sirius,” y/n asked. Sirius gave them a wonky grin and said, “Snow angel!”

Y/n gasped as Sirius flailed his arms and legs and made a perfect snow angel. “Join me?”

Sirius asked and y/n gave a toothy smile and joined him on the snow.

Y/n laughed as James and Peter tried to bury them under the snow as ‘revenge’. Y/n shook their head and got up, leaving a messy snow angel in comparison to Sirius’ perfect one.

They played in the snow for some more time, feeling joyous. Right when they were about to go in, Remus decided to write something on the snow.

Marauders

Y/n read it and their brows furrowed. “Is that what you’re calling yourself?” they asked.

“Yep,” James said, joining them, placing a hand on y/n’s shoulder and leaning on them. “We are the marauders.”

“What are you going to raid?” “Your chocolate frogs stash, loser,” James replied. Y/n took a sharp step away from him and watched James flail his arms to regain his balance.

“I hate you,” James said in a mock anger.

“Race to the kitchen,” Sirius yelled and sprinted towards the castle.

Y/n shook their head and followed Sirius, James behind them, followed by Peter trying his best to catch up with them. Remus was walking slowly with his hands in his pockets, making sure to not trip.

After getting food, they all made their way to the common room, where they sang Christmas songs at the top of their lungs, earning glares from those studying.

With their throat raw, y/n glanced out at the early setting sun and marvelled at the beauty of Hogwarts under the snow.

Y/n sipped on some hot chocolate and watched the sun set completely, a warm fuzzy feeling inside them as they heard their friends joke and laugh around.  

They finally felt content.

[zombieefish]

oh by the way here is an excuse to write

if you want a prompt uhhhh

WINTER. SNOW. HEAVY SNOW.

hmhmhmh... this reminds me of something i wrote last year in december.. rewrite time!!

except it's not silverbrush anymore and it's a different ship.. i do like silverbrush but they'll get something else on christmas eve maybe

★ ★ ★

Snowflakes gracefully pranced around the sky, twirling with elegance as they soon hit the ground, coating the landscape in a blanket of pure white – all around was the laughter from the others who were inhabitants at Hotel OJ [or should I say Hotel HOOT? I've got no clue. ], enjoying the winter season and what it had to offer.

Fan would be bundled up in his winter coat and what not, scarf covering his face almost completely – as his glasses slowly began to fog up from where he stood.

He didn't mind the snowy weather, not at all – but the cold wasn't exactly his favourite thing in the word, that's one thing for certain. But he didn't let it ruin the mood around him, as that would be a silly thing to do.

Paintbrush would walk up to the other, giving him a brief once-over, their brow raised.

"You're all geared up, huh?" They moved to cross their arms, holding a sled under their arm while looking at the redhead, who was bound to overheat at this rate.

"Geez.. no need to point out the obvious," Fan would awkwardly reply, shuffling back and forth to gather more warmth – as he was somehow managing to freeze, despite being in so many layers.

Usually, snow was linked to the jolly holiday, known as Christmas. So, what exactly does Christmas mean for Fan?

If you asked, he'd reply with presents. Sometimes he would say Christmas carols, but it really depended on how his brain decided to work that day.

Fan would wipe his glasses, his eyes glancing down to the sled beneath his partners arm, and then back to their face – a sled, huh?

Gosh.. sledding always seemed so cool in the TV shows and movies, yet he had such little expectations for real life. They didn't have much of a hill to go down near the hotel.. and if there was one, it was mediocre at best.

"Are you going sledding?" He'd ask, peering behind them briefly – seeing a few of his friends making a snowman.

"Yeah, you wanna come? Lightbulb and Mic are tagging along, if you're interested. Think they're already at the place." Paintbrush stretched out a hand, offering it to Fan.

He didnt understand how his spouse was wearing fingerless gloves in this weather. Were they not freezing? Maybe they had warm blood, or whatever the term was nowadays.

The redhead nodded eagerly, taking their hand – letting his gloved fingers curl around their.. non-gloved ones. He liked holding hands with Paintbrush, because it always sent a small electric shock of joy through his system.

It sounded nerdy, he knew that – but he didn't really care.

The pair began to walk to a small hill nearby, Fan looking at his surroundings with awe. He just loved the way the island looked when covered in snow, especially in December. It made the Christmas movies he'd seen feel like a dream come true.

Paintbrush held his hand, watching Fan's gaze like a hawk, a small smile creeping up onto their face – it was nice to see that he was enjoying himself, even if they hadn't gotten to the main event.

As he was zoned out, a snowball would come flying past the pair of them – making him snap out of loo-loo land, and back to reality. His eyes would move over to the direction it came in, seeing the perpetrator in question.

Well, it was actually perpetrators in this case.

"I thought I'd get them! Guess I need better aim." Lightbulb would huff, sat on Microphone's shoulders, the pair behind a tree, which didn't do very well at hiding them.

"They can see us. I told you the rock was a better idea." Mic looked up, and before she knew it, Lightbulb threw another snowball their way.

This time, the snowball hit the target.

A little too well, I fear – poor Fan got his right in the face, hitting the snow pretty quickly. He felt a little dizzy, and his face was.. cold, to say the least.

"Oops."

Paintbrush glanced down at the other with a frown.

"Goddammit.. should've known they'd do that." They muttered to themselves, kneeling down to check up on their partner on the ground.

"Are we theeere yeeet..?" Fan would garble out, as if there were cartoonish stars spinning around his head at a moderate speed.

Lightbulb and Microphone would soon approach, Lightbulb still on her shoulders – the pair glancing down at poor Fan.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Microphone glanced over at Paintbrush, her brow knitted as she briefly gave Fan a glance, seeing his glasses fog up once more.

"Probably," They'd purse their lips, giving the two a look. Maybe they'd have to put the sledding on hold for now.. until Fan gathered himself.

"So.. no sledding?" Lightbulb would ask the two, her scarf falling off her neck and onto Fan's chest.

"No." They both replied.

I guess it would have to wait.. maybe a few minutes.

★ ★ ★

[hexusproductions]

The Devotee (Knightformers)

Word Count: 7830

Summary: Seconds ticked by as the two men stared at each other, two immovable objects removed from the unstoppable forces which formed their respective worlds. Optimus knew that dealing with Shockwave was difficult, exactly as difficult as he had been to capture in the first place…

One revered, one reviled. Following a long and arduous battle, Optimus Prime attempts to negotiate a heart-to-heart with Shockwave. Whether the twisted Decepticon has a heart at all is an entirely different matter to consider.

Author's Note: Here it is! My entry for @archie-sunshine's Knightformers fan art contest! This was a genuine passion project and I'm very happy to have gotten an opportunity to play in this sandbox he created. I hope you enjoy :)

The once gilded cathedral, like much of the land, had seen far better days. Despite this, the endless war had yet to reach the sun itself, and couldn’t stop its light from shining at just the right angle through the stained glass windows that lined the cathedral wall, painting the hardwood floors in vibrant strokes of red, blue and yellow. The pews had been pushed out of the way, relinquishing plenty of space to the room’s sole occupant. In the middle of the floor, Shockwave rested on his knees, his head hanging bowed. Heavy chains laced intricately across his broad chest and shoulders, holding him down in his current position, and the cold soft glow of a binding circle drawn into the hardwood reflected across the visor of his helmet. When it came to keeping him restrained, no-one wanted to take any chances.

Heavy bootsteps and the drag of a chair seemed so loud that it echoed off the walls, though imagination likely exaggerated its volume in the former silence. Optimus Prime set the chair in front of the binding circle and sat down, knees apart and leant forward enough to rest his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped together. A crease was etched into his brow, and at first he said nothing, watching the captive Decepticon. Shockwave didn’t move, and could have easily been mistaken for a statue…or a corpse…except that the wing-like grey fins which adorned his helmet rose ever so slightly, the only indicator that he’d noticed the Prime’s presence at all. Optimus noted how strange it was that the thin pieces of metal were capable of moving on their own. Then again, much was strange about Shockwave as a whole. He didn’t speak, so Optimus chose to once again break the silence.

“Shockwave.” He greeted calmly, then paused; Giving his captive ample space to say something, and uncertain himself of how to proceed now that conversation had been breached. Optimus hadn’t prepared anything to say while he’d entered the room. No-one else had wanted to be the one to speak to Shockwave, so Optimus had volunteered. It appeared that there was no need for worry, because Shockwave still refrained from speaking. Through the thin gap between his helmet and the cloth veil that hid the lower half of his face, further obscured by a sliver of blue from the illuminated stained glass, one brilliant yellow eye cracked open, piercing into the Prime sitting before him. Optimus lowered his head, meeting Shockwave’s gaze.

Seconds ticked by as the two men stared at each other, two immovable objects removed from the unstoppable forces which formed their respective worlds. Optimus knew that dealing with Shockwave was difficult, exactly as difficult as he had been to capture in the first place…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blades clashed and a cacophony of noise blanketed the battlefield, screams both of effort and of agony. Wyverns threw wide shadows across the decimated land below them. What had once been a large forest had been uprooted and turned to ash, pockmarked by weapons-fire both military and magical.

As always, the Autobots and the Decepticons were locked in conflict. The inciting attack had seemed small and covert at first, but had quickly snowballed into an all-out siege, and soon became worse with the arrival of several members of Decepticon High Command.

Sideswipe’s grip loosened on his swords and a grim expression darkened behind his helmet’s visor. The Decepticon pinned under his boot was completely forgotten as he watched Shockwave step out and over the lip of a still-smouldering crater. His stride was slow, but purposeful. His head turned in Sideswipe’s direction, and it quickly dawned on the Autobot that he was in far deeper than he’d realised when he had first volunteered for this ambush.

Shockwave drew out a glaive, held ready at his side. Its dark blade was wide and tapered, and even while moving, it didn’t reflect the sunlight above, as if it were swallowing all light around it. Such a feat would be impossible for any man-made metal. Sideswipe quickly steadied his grip on his swords and raised them towards the Decepticon. Shockwave was first to close the distance and swung wide. Sideswipe rose his blades to deflect the blow, but underestimated the amount of force incoming and his arms were bludgeoned aside. The vibrations from the impact wracked Sideswipe’s arms and he hissed before Shockwave’s boot slammed into his breastplate. Sideswipe was sent sprawling to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs. Shockwave stood over him. A singular yellow eye burned from within the depths of his helmet’s visor, viciously calculative with Sideswipe in its intense focus.

“I’m coming!” A determined voice called from Sideswipe’s right. Ore rushed in to defend him, peppering low strikes against Shockwave’s leg. One of the grey finials adorning Shockwave’s helmet flicked, like a bull irritated by a fly near its ear, and he spun around with a two-handed strike. The glaive carved through Ore’s armour like butter, cleaving him in two. Sideswipe’s mouth fell open as Ore’s split body flopped onto the dirt, the upper half still gurgling in confused protest. Despite the alarmingly abrupt death, Sideswipe wasn’t granted time to dwell on it, and he quickly looked around for options. He was relieved to see Ironhide throw Dirge aside and charge in the direction of himself and Shockwave, who still stood over him, glaive poised to take another victim.

“I’ve got ya, kid!” Ironhide proclaimed. Forgoing wasting time to draw a weapon, Ironhide instead slammed his fist into Shockwave’s ribcage. The force was enough to stagger Shockwave back a step and Ironhide moved in after him, landing another hit with his gauntlet-clad fist and then two more with a warhammer (which, like Ironhide, was both heavy-duty and hit like a carriage).

Scrambling back to avoid being tread upon, Sideswipe used the opportunity Ironhide had given him. He quickly retrieved his swords from the dirt and jumped to his feet; the once green earth left brown and green stains against his bright red armour, but Sideswipe wasn’t bothered by loss of aesthetic. He thought distantly, as he circled Shockwave, that doing so was his brother’s job.

Shockwave shifted tactics, taking a defensive against Ironhide’s onslaught. He stopped another swing of the warhammer with a two-handed block, then shoved, forcing Ironhide back. Sideswipe hovered around Shockwave’s side, and his eyes quickly glanced down. Ore may have been recklessly stupid, but he’d had the right idea. Sideswipe dropped low and donkey-kicked the back of Shockwave’s knee. His leg buckled involuntarily, and Shockwave’s attention was very swiftly returned towards the culprit as he swallowed down a grunt. Sideswipe chuckled snidely and stepped back out of range of the glaive. He was expecting another wide sweep of the weapon, but he should have paid attention to the blue shimmer swirling around Shockwave’s left hand. Shockwave thrust forward with the hand and a beam of chilling frost hit Sideswipe dead-on in the torso. The beam crystalised on contact, quickly coating Sideswipe in a layer of thick and jagged ice. Something between a gasp and a squawk left Sideswipe’s throat as he struggled against the spell’s effects, trying to wrench himself free. Even his plume felt cold. Ironhide ducked out of the way of another ice beam, tapping a rune engraved onto the collar of his armour.

“Prime? We could use some help!” Ironhide barked into the softly glowing rune, keeping his eyes locked on Shockwave.

Further away, on another part of the battlefield, Optimus Prime avoided a blow from Shadowstriker, causing her to sink her sword into the trunk of a fallen tree.

“Understood! I’m on my way.” Optimus responded into his own communication rune before hurrying in the direction of where he’d last seen Ironhide, leaving Shadowstriker to wrestle her sword out of the tree. Weaving his way across the battlefield, Optimus focused through the endless noise for the sound of Ironhide in particular, following it past a still-dazed Dirge hiding behind cover while he searched for his flying steed.

Optimus was almost relieved when he finally spotted Ironhide’s cropped crimson plume, although any desire to celebrate was cut short when Optimus’s gaze found Shockwave. A frown set on the Prime’s face and he quickened his pace, taking in the rest of the battle - most pressingly, Sideswipe was trapped in place within a jagged piece of ice, arms pulled free and hastily trying to get the rest of himself out. Ironhide was trying to force Shockwave to stay on the defensive, keeping him from attacking the vulnerable Sideswipe.

Crossing the remaining distance, Optimus planted himself between Sideswipe and Shockwave. He raised his shield, axe ready at his side, and his eyes narrowed in determination as Shockwave noticed the sudden arrival of the noble Prime.

Optimus stood firm. Shockwave rose to his full height and his grip tightened around his glaive. A split-second passed, though it felt long enough that it could have been an hour, and then Shockwave thrust a hand up. Another beam of arcane ice shot forward towards Optimus, keen to stop him before he could even act. It wasn’t fast enough to prevent Optimus from angling his shield so it caught the brunt of the impact instead. He braced himself against the force that bore down on him furiously, a gust of cold air rolling past his shoulders as crystals formed around the edges of his shield. The dirt crunched frozen beneath his boots, but when the blast finally subsided, Optimus was unharmed. With the Decepticon’s attention on Optimus, Ironhide charged in with a valiant cry and swung his hammer at Shockwave’s back. Shockwave’s head snapped around and his arm raised just as quickly. Ironhide’s blow collided with the thick vambrace adorning Shockwave’s left arm, taking the hit with an awful clang of metal. Such a hit should have caused ripples of pain through the limb, as he had done to Sideswipe earlier, or even crushed it completely. But it didn’t seem to phase Shockwave in the slightest, and now Ironhide was within arm’s reach.

His armour-clad arm forced past the warhammer and slammed into Ironhide’s face. The crunch of cartilage was swiftly followed by the butt-end of Shockwave’s glaive thrust into his chest. Ironhide snarled and choked, stumbling back as blood dripped from his now broken nose. Optimus’ eyes widened in alarm and he immediately circled around Shockwave, inserting himself back within his opponent’s view - and hopefully, directing his attention onto himself. Although he had also hoped Shockwave would recklessly take advantage of Optimus offering himself up on a silver platter, he instead moved backwards, putting more space between himself and the Autobots he was fighting. A string of muttered words were obscured behind his cloth veil. As Shockwave took his glaive in both hands, its impossibly dark blade began to sizzle and bubble with sickly colour. Shockwave twisted and swung the glaive in a huge two-handed arc, all capable force focused into a single movement. Optimus scowled and raised his shield once more, bracing to take the blow as he had before. The blade hissed as it carved through the air; it hit Optimus’ shield and barely stalled, ripping through first the remaining ice and steel and then onwards across Optimus’s gauntlet behind it.

Optimus hissed as he jumped back, tearing himself free of the glaive’s path before the pain was even fully registered. He narrowed his eyes towards his arm. His shield bent around it, barely still in one piece. Optimus sadly removed it and let it fall onto the dirt. His bracer was split open, and through the gap, he was alarmed to see veins of black swiftly withering up his hand. Optimus gripped the injured hand, and a pained growl rumbled free from his throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you in any pain?” Optimus asked. The singular yellow eye continued to stare into him. After a slight pause, Shockwave finally spoke.

“...No.” The singular word rumbled in his chest, but it lacked any sort of venom or anger. Shockwave was unexpectedly calm given the situation he had been forced into. Optimus’s gaze fell to the cathedral’s floor, following a natural line in the wooden boards.

“You fought valiantly.” He spoke with a similar tone, low, calm, and genuine. Optimus’ travelling gaze stopped where the line did, halted by the softly glowing boundaries of the binding circle. He skimmed the runes designed to prevent escape, or any spells from being cast, and then raised his gaze to meet Shockwave’s again. He possessed no ill will towards Shockwave either, even despite their opposing sides, and he hoped that this conversation could go amicably for the both of them. “Was there a particular reason behind it? Perhaps something that Megatron was eager to get his hands on, or prevent us from finding?”

The atmosphere wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t welcoming either. Every question came with a following silence, letting it dangle in the air and twist itself until the question itself came under scepticism. The projections from the windows, as beautiful as they were, remained as still as the room’s two occupants. There was no initial indicator of emotion from Shockwave - hardly surprising, but at this proximity Optimus realised that there was no rhythmic rise and fall to Shockwave’s shoulders, or his chest. Shockwave didn’t breathe. Optimus reserved his unease to only his hands, clasped thumbs brushing idly over each other once. Stoicism was an essential tool of a Prime, and Optimus had had many years of practice.

The finials adorning Shockwave’s helm lifted, and his head followed, rising by a slight degree.

“You do not need to pretend to be cordial in order to coax information out of me.” As with his previous response, there was no accusation, only a statement of fact. The corner of Optimus’ mouth curved upwards.

“I’m not pretending.”

“Then it is unnecessary.” The faint clink of chains accompanied Shockwave shifting his position slightly on the uncomfortable floor, the thick iron allowing little freedom of movement, “We have no amicable relationship. We are not friends.”

Optimus’s jaw clenched, and he exhaled deeply through his nostrils. For the first time since entering the room, a shadow briefly cast over the Prime and his already curved posture increased its hunch. But as quickly as it had appeared Optimus pressed it down again, sitting up and steeling his expression. He could feel Shockwave’s unblinking gaze fixed upon him, analysing and dissecting every action Optimus took, and Optimus felt the need to keep tight control of himself; Even though it was only the two of them here, rather than crowds of Autobots looking for his wisdom or his presence. Shockwave carried out his goals with ruthless efficiency, and giving him a possible weak point to exploit wasn’t a good idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The necrosis crept further up Optimus’s wrist, darkening his fingertips. Still clasping his hand, Optimus ignored the pain burning through his flesh and looked around in concern first and foremost for his fellow Autobots. Ironhide lay fallen about a metre back from where Optimus had last seen him, slumped face-down. Optimus’ blood ran cold, but then Ironhide stirred and slowly rose to his elbows. His nose was still broken, and there was a jagged tear across the side of his breastplate, but he clearly refused to be taken down just yet. A deep sigh of relief escaped Optimus, and even though the danger wasn’t over yet, he allowed himself a small smile.

A voice spoke up in the back of his head, reminding him that no, the danger wasn’t over yet. He still had to be their leader. The smile faded from Optimus’ face. He clenched his blackened fist and willed down the pain, standing tall and steeling his expression. As long as he continued fighting, as long as he never wavered, he would inspire others to do the same.

Shockwave’s helm slowly passed over the Autobots scattered around him. The glaive in his hands was no longer bubbling with dark magic, though that didn’t make its razor-sharp blade any more comforting. In this tensely still moment, it was easier to see the dents Ironhide’s warhammer had left in his armour, the mud staining his vestments, and how his finials were pulled further back against his helmet, like the ears of a beast. The Decepticon was not as untouchable as one could have believed…but still he showed no sign of faltering.

“Looks like you three could use a hand!”

Shockwave turned in the direction of the voice, as did the Autobots. Running across the butchered earth to meet them were Sunstreaker and Mirage. Even in the middle of the battle, Sunstreaker’s golden armour was polished to a shine.

“We’re happy to have you.” Honesty warmed Optimus’ voice as the new arrivals took different points; Mirage helped Ironhide get to his feet, while Sunstreaker raced across to free his still-captive brother. With clapped hands and a quick spell, Sunstreaker’s palms heated and melted away the final piece of ice encasing Sideswipe’s legs.

“Couldn’t let me have all the glory, could you?” Sideswipe smiled, despite the slight chatter of his teeth.

With their numbers increased, the Autobots reinvigorated their attack on the lone Shockwave. Optimus was still fully capable with only an axe, and he had four more swords at his aid to help him, all of them united in their goal. Every flourish of Sunstreaker’s blade sang with finesse and magic as he channelled spells through it. Sideswipe found his place at Sunstreaker’s flank, targeting the spots between Shockwave’s plate armour in an attempt to strike a weak spot - or, failing that, piss him off. Shockwave blocked a strike from Sideswipe only for Optimus to hit his front side, battering Shockwave to weaken his footing. Ironhide shook Mirage off of his arm, swiped across the bottom of his nose with the back of his hand, and retrieved his hammer from where it had fallen.

Shockwave stumbled. He gripped his weapon tightly, knowing that losing it would tilt the odds against him even further. His eye narrowed, flicking across his opponents who outnumbered him. He kept his gaze locked on them and lowered his helm, darkening his expression further as he took a step back.

With Ironhide insisting that he was alright, Mirage made a practised motion with his hands, summoning an illusionary copy of himself. The real Mirage vanished, while the copy moved in. It skirted underneath Sideswipe’s arm, vaulted over a singed tree stump, and drew his sword while he circled closer towards Shockwave’s left side. Shockwave’s helm remained lowered; he deflected Optimus’ axe, but his movements became practised, automatic. His finials twitched almost imperceptibly, up then back again. The false Mirage brandished his weapon, a courageous cry building on his tongue as he prepared to strike. Shockwave blocked Sunstreaker’s lunge, and then suddenly, faster than anyone could register, Shockwave whirled around and seized the real Mirage by the throat.

Optimus froze, and the brothers’ eyes both widened. Mirage rematerialised in Shockwave’s grasp, held aloft in the middle of his failed back-stabbing leap. His mouth was twisted into a shocked grimace as he clawed at the hand wrapped around his neck. Shockwave’s gaze bore into Mirage and he squeezed, drawing a choked gasp out of him.

“Put him down, ugly!” Sideswipe growled. Shockwave turned and hurled Mirage further into the clearing. He hit the ground hard and rolled gracelessly a further few feet, coughing oxygen back into his lungs. Optimus’s jaw clenched as he felt he had no choice but to withdraw.

“Keep him busy.” He instructed whoever was close enough to hear him. Ironhide nodded and moved in, allowing Optimus to cross the clearing and get to Mirage. He lay propped by one arm, strands of dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and rubbing his throat.

“Are you alright, Mirage?” Optimus knelt down beside him, arm raising instinctively before he remembered his shield was gone.

“Never better.” Mirage deadpanned hoarsely. Optimus placed a hand on his back, offering any amount of support while the knight caught his breath. The furrow in Optimus’ brow carved deeper into his skin as he contemplated the best course of action. Everyone was hurt, and so was Shockwave, but Optimus doubted he would let that slow him down.

Then, the roar of a wyvern echoed above their heads, and Optimus resisted the urge to groan. He settled for a scowl as he looked back over to his comrades. Starscream had arrived, having picked them out in the commotion and eager to stake a claim by lending his assistance. Sideswipe had split from the other two to intervene, dancing around the snarling fangs of both the wyvern and its bow-wielding master.

Optimus looked at Mirage, who nodded and gave a supportive tap to his leader’s shoulder. Optimus returned the nod, stood, and made his way back to the rest of the fight.

The air all but hummed with magic from the increased amount of spells slung back and forth across the battlefield. Sunstreaker was currently providing cover fire to Ironhide from a distance, peppering Shockwave with flames and ribbons of sparkling light while Ironhide took the martial approach. Optimus realised before Sunstreaker did that his cover fire, while effective, was also making him a target.

Fire licked around the edges of Shockwave’s cape as he thrust forward. His glaive carved another piece from Ironhide’s armour, but the Autobot side-stepped and returned with a wide swing. Having been locked into fighting the purple-garbed ‘Con for so long, Ironhide had learnt a thing or two. But unfortunately, so had Shockwave. Shockwave hooked his polearm underneath the head of Ironhide’s hammer, jamming it in place. He adjusted his grip, braced, and then tossed both the hammer and Ironhide aside. Ironhide did attempt to catch himself, but between fatigue and his untreated wounds, he lacked the necessary strength and wound up flat on his back, the world spinning around him as Shockwave disappeared from view.

Shockwave stalked towards Sunstreaker, finials pinned back against his skull. Sunstreaker tensed but raised his sword. He was unaware of Optimus hurrying to reach him, and his thoughts were preoccupied with keeping perfect form as he stared down his adversary. He spun out of the way as the glaive whistled through the space where he had previously been standing. He felt the edge of his cape tear away and Sunstreaker pulled a face, summoning electricity along the length of his blade and jabbing it towards Shockwave. Shockwave waved a hand and the lightning veered around it, crackling around itself before collapsing harmlessly.

“You lack discipline.” The statement echoed low from within Shockwave’s helmet. Sunstreaker bared his teeth and lunged, striking at Shockwave again. He parried and dodged the swings of the glaive, his own blade hitting against the defensive polearm with the grating clack of metal on wood. He was fast and nimble, as was his brother, facing down Starscream and his dragon.

The wyvern may have had the air advantage, but every time it swooped low enough to attack, it gave Sideswipe the opportunity to slice into its red scales. Starscream drew his bow and fired. Sideswipe jumped out of the way with a grin that only widened as it caused the esteemed second-in-command to snarl in frustration. The wyvern swiped at him with her claws and Sideswipe attempted to move again, but his timing was off and he found himself hooked in her grasp. Starscream snapped the reins. His wyvern coiled and clamped her jaws around Sideswipe’s chest, her teeth spearing into his plate armour. Sideswipe screamed. Sunstreaker stole a concerned look towards his brother. The split in focus was microscopic, but it was all Shockwave needed. He wound back, then thrust his glaive forward with the same momentum, deadly force locked on Sunstreaker as its target. Optimus called out in warning, but his body was already moving of its own accord, faster than he could think. He threw himself between Sunstreaker and the glaive, turning to shield the golden-clad soldier from the incoming blow. Shockwave’s glaive pierced through Optimus’ shoulder with an awful sound of severed meat and metal, joined by an agonised scream torn from the Prime himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chains tightened against Shockwave’s chest as he sat straighter, no longer bowed in quiet calculating acceptance, and the sound pulled Optimus back to the present. His gaze settled more firmly on Shockwave, acknowledging his notice of Shockwave’s movement against his bonds - taking no action to stop him, but making it clear that he was aware of Shockwave doing so. Shockwave gave no reaction of shame or secrecy, and fell deathly still once more in his new position.

“What do you aim to achieve by having this conversation?” Shockwave questioned. Optimus hardly had to consider his answer; he spoke honestly and with no ulterior motive to begin with. The only change to his usual tone was a cordial lightness.

“I hope that by speaking as equals, we can choose the peaceful option.” He turned his hand in a gesture between the two of them. Coloured light criss-crossed his palm, golden and bright in his hand. Shockwave’s yellow eye stared at Optimus, swallowed in the deep void that concealed his face. It never blinked, a discovery which while unnerving, was less surprising after the previous revelation that Shockwave didn’t breathe. Shockwave’s finials stilled, and his wrists tugged where they were bound. This time he made no attempt to conceal that he was testing the strength of his bonds.

“And if I refuse to comply?” His voice being as low and even as it was, it was hard to tell if it was a threat, but it was undoubtedly certain as he tilted his helm ever so slightly towards the room’s entryway, “It is unlikely that anyone wishes to keep me in a hallowed place such as this.” The statement was immediately accepting of itself, and it left a heavy and unpleasant taste in Optimus’ mouth. Optimus frowned.

“You’re just as much a person as anyone else, Shockwave.” The lightness had faded from his tone, returning Shockwave’s certainty with his own - if only to make it clear that he refused to treat Shockwave as any lesser because of which forces he was aligned with. “As long as you don’t cause trouble, you’ll be treated with the respect you’re owed.” Shockwave’s head slid back to face the Prime. He didn’t speak at first, but his finials moved again; They perked up, then slotted back again, relaxing to their natural position. Optimus watched how they twitched and it was something of a relief that this patch of silence felt less pressing than those that had come before it. It seemed as if his promise to ensure Shockwave was given common decency while prisoner was received well. To be honest, that was concerning, but it also meant it now appeared slightly more possible for the two of them to reach an agreement.

Optimus’s curved posture straightened, sitting up in his chair. Its wooden legs scraped slightly as its back touched his, and the cathedral’s light warped with his silhouette, his shadow extending further towards the edges of the binding circle. Sitting tall, Optimus was highlighted in soft golden candlelight and ribbons of colour, as if he were always meant to be there.

“It would be more wise to kill me.” Shockwave’s cold, measured voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was equally as unexpected and chilling as a blade would have been, and Optimus’ expression became stern. Shockwave’s head had lowered, the helmet’s visor emphasising his narrowed eye, and his bound hands were pulled to rest in his lap. When Optimus opened his mouth to speak, to object, Shockwave simply spoke over him, “I am a major threat to you and your fellow Autobots. I will not stop until I have completed my goal and brought eternal prosperity to our destroyed homeland. Given this information, and that I am currently at your mercy, the logical course of action would be to kill me and remove me as a variable.”

The atmosphere had become choked, as if holding its breath, but it didn’t stop the low hum that rumbled in the back of Optimus’ throat. He looked away, though he could still feel Shockwave’s stare intently focused upon him. Admittedly, a similar unreadable scowl set on Optimus’s expression as he considered the advised course of action he had been presented with. On principle, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of executing Shockwave; they were in a war, and though he always - and would always - present an open hand rather than a closed fist as long as he was able, unfortunately there were times where he had no other option in order to prevent further death and destruction. But what Shockwave was suggesting was cutthroat, and thought only of the end rather than the means. It was completely Shockwave’s way of doing things, but it wasn’t Optimus’.

Ultimately, Optimus sighed and let some of the weight he carried sit more visibly on his shoulders.

“I fear that the Decepticons may be too muddled within themselves to ensure Cybertron’s prosperity.” He confessed as he looked back towards Shockwave, eyes flicking once down and up again over his captive form. Quietly, Optimus also questioned whether the Autobot faction were any less conflicted within itself. Decades of war had taken their toll on everyone, and it would likely take decades more to repair their fractured land. The work would almost never be done, regardless of whose hand would attempt to steer the course.

Shockwave, however, didn’t appear to think so.

“That is irrelevant.” Shockwave’s eye narrowed again. “The Decepticons are merely a means to an end.” Optimus’ lips pressed into a tight line as he levelled Shockwave with a dry, sullen look.

“And after you’ve used the Decepticons, what then? What will you do if you do succeed?”

The question actually gave Shockwave pause. His head lowered slightly to one side, as if glancing away while in thought, and the slow twitch of his finials was further evidence that he was contemplating an answer.

“...I do not know at this time.” Shockwave finally spoke. He sat straighter, and Optimus was perhaps one of the few who could pick out the obscured act of reigning oneself under control, before another could see thoughts laid transparently, “My current priority is Cybertron, and I can determine the future once I have achieved that. My own role in that future is largely inconsequential.” The flagrant lack of regard for his own life caused another concerned scowl to appear on Optimus’ face, shaking his head as he took in the full weight of Shockwave’s words.

“That’s not true, Shockwave. You’ve formed connections, found allies during your life. There will be people who’ll notice your absence, whether you believe so or not.”

The eye within the helmet flickered as Shockwave silently noted that Optimus was technically correct. There were a handful of people he had created even brief kinship with; begrudging peers like his fellow commander Soundwave, lower ranked Decepticons who had tried to earn his favour and share in his knowledge, including one notable example of a pink-garbed medic who had gone a step further and attempted to win his admiration. All of them had ultimately discovered the same fact: Shockwave was an abrasive and solitary individual by nature.

Shockwave sunk and his helm lowered as the chains crossing his body weighed down even further. It was as if a long exhale had left his once living, now sealed lungs.

“They are a means to an end.” He repeated, in a quiet and hollow voice.

Beneath his furrowed brow, Optimus’ gaze softened ever so slightly in both compassion and deep dismay. He knew that Shockwave was more than just a vessel for a larger force, even if that force was his own ambition. Optimus was sure of it. Optimus leant forward again, propping an elbow on his knee in order to drag his hand down the lower half of his face with an almost inaudible sigh. He looked down to his own shadow in front of him, as if it might provide some sort of counsel to him.

“For god’s sake, Shockwave, look at what you’ve done to yourself.” Optimus deliberately tried to keep his voice from sounding harsh, but exasperation barbed the words. He internally winced at his own behaviour, but Shockwave hadn’t seemed to mind; the Decepticon was casting a brief glance over himself, quick and flippant like he was inconvenienced by having to do so. Layers of Shockwave’s armour had been removed - both so he could be restrained and to ensure there was nothing dangerous hidden on his person - but even if obscured by cloth or metal, Optimus knew that lines of arcane runes had been engraved into Shockwave’s skin. They were a grim match for the point of a slightly jagged autopsy scar that crept up from beneath his loosened collar. The procedure for becoming a lich was a matter few even spoke about, much less attempted. It was no surprise that Shockwave was the kind of person who could and would see the process through.

“I do not understand your objection.” Shockwave’s finials drew back as he leant forward. “You sacrifice your physical body to serve the war effort as well, and far more freely.” Optimus blinked, taken aback. He quickly tried to hide the expression, but Shockwave’s helm tilted, eyeing the Prime. Optimus cleared his throat and glanced away for a moment, even the slight pause feeling far too significant.

“...By putting myself in harm’s way, I’m shielding others from suffering.”

“Your reply does not disprove my argument.” Shockwave responded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Optimus clamped his gritted teeth shut. The glaive drove further through his shoulder, grinding against his armour. Every strained breath growled through his lips, swallowing down the pain that shot through his torso like lightning. Optimus opened his eyes - unaware that he’d closed them - and looked down. Sunstreaker lay fallen underneath him, staring with wide eyes from between Optimus’ tensed arms. The tip of Shockwave’s glaive had been stopped inches before Sunstreaker’s rapidly rising and falling chest. It would have surely pierced him through if not for Optimus lunging into its path.

Sunstreaker was frozen, eyes locked on the glaive-tip. Optimus’ arms shook and he dropped by a millimetre before forcing his arms to lock again.

“Go!” Optimus barked. The strained but decisive order snapped Sunstreaker out of it, and he quickly scrambled out from underneath his leader. He tore off in the opposite direction, aiming another bolt towards Starscream’s wyvern. The second in command had seen Optimus fall from above and was keen to take advantage, but quickly had to pull back on the reins when concentrated fire zipped past his steed’s muzzle. Sunstreaker didn’t let up, determined to protect Optimus’ prone form, as Optimus had done for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bandages wrapped snug around Optimus’ shoulder hugged against the patched-up wound lying beneath them, as he once more occupied himself with following lines in the floorboards’ woodgrain. Healing spells had already sped along the bulk of the process, but Ratchet had been vocally insistent on not neglecting regular non-magical medicine.

Even without looking, Optimus could still feel Shockwave’s gaze upon him. He lifted his eyes when chains and fabric dragged across the floor; Shockwave attempted to inch forward, failing quickly thanks to his restraints. His expression didn’t change from its slightly angled interest, proving that he was still waiting for a response.

The candles dotted throughout the room continued to burn, and trails of wax slid down to form large droplets at the bases of their holders. Shockwave stared intently at Optimus, and Optimus stared back resolutely at Shockwave. Although the candles had burned down much of their wicks, shortening their own remaining lifespans in the process, their fires didn’t waver.

Optimus’ head tilted slightly lower, jaw clenching and unclenching once. He exhaled in a low, quiet sigh that rose up into his chest and out through his nose.

“I know I cannot speak with you as I do with your leader. …With Megatron.” Optimus eventually spoke. It caused a small, yet deeply felt amount of sadness within him to think that familiarity had long been lost between himself and the man who knelt before him, but there were more important things at stake than dwelling on memories. “But you are still a Cybertronian, Shockwave, and I wish that we could reach an agreement that would ensure everyone’s safety and happiness.” Optimus paused, taking his turn to prompt Shockwave for a response. Shockwave stared at him for a moment, then another, and then his yellow eye flickered as his head rolled to one side. Was that his way of rolling his eyes? Despite the irritated display, Shockwave didn’t pursue their previous topic that Optimus had steered away from, and instead his finials twitched in silent thought.

“I agree that such an outcome would be ideal, but impossible. Autobots and Decepticons are easily swayed by their fickle emotions and short-sighted, self-serving goals. Very few have risen above such failings.”

“You believe you’re one of those few?” It was not a question so much as a conclusion.

“Indeed.” Shockwave nodded. His answer was resolute and certain of itself, as had been every answer he had given before, and every answer he would surely give further. Even while dragged down to his knees, bound in every conceivable method of restraint, Shockwave could not be shaken. As Optimus Prime looked at Shockwave bound within the arcane circle, he saw the thin patches of red and blue light that warped the purple colour of his remaining armour. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the man he once knew, who would frequently change the colours of his armour on a whim, whose emotions would flare just as suddenly as he fought for the betterment of the aligned provinces with a fiery passion. Though much of the man Optimus had once known had been stripped away or twisted beyond recognition, speaking with Shockwave had made one thing certain; That drive to change things for the better still resided deep within Shockwave’s core, and no amount of dark magic could snuff it out completely.

Optimus might have smiled if not for the grim acceptance that he couldn’t get through to Shockwave right now, not like this. Optimus sank slightly in his chair, shoulders kept broad by habit more than conscious thought. He closed his eyes, waited a moment, then opened them again.

“I believe there’s a future for us all, Shockwave. Including you.” Optimus told the Decepticon with a voice that sounded hollow, not unlike how Shockwave’s had earlier. Shockwave regarded Optimus for a long moment, and then bowed his helm as he exhaled. It was almost inaudible, but given that he didn’t need to breathe, the action betrayed itself as deliberate. Optimus rose from his seat, the wooden chair groaning softly at the loss of his weight. He lingered on Shockwave and his bowed head, unable to tell at this angle whether Shockwave was still watching him in return. But Optimus turned away and straightened, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that lanced through his shoulder as he walked away from the binding circle. He heard Shockwave’s metal chains drag against themselves, but with his back turned, Optimus couldn’t tell how Shockwave was moving. He kept putting one foot in front of the other, each step echoing in the silent and empty room of the cathedral. When Optimus crossed the last of the coloured beams of light, the only person left under the stained glass’ worn projections of age-old saints and martyrs was Shockwave, held captive within the faintly glowing binding circle.

Optimus pulled the heavy wooden door closed behind him, now standing in the hallway connected to the room. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, but soon cut the action short when Hound approached to take over watching the Autobots’ prisoner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The edges of Optimus’ vision grew cloudy, muddling the ground underneath him into patches of brown, green and red. With a barely muffled snarl of agony and frustration, Optimus steeled his nerve and seized the blade impaled through his shoulder in both hands. It tugged in his grip - behind him, Shockwave attempted to pull his weapon free, but Optimus held on tight. The blade whined as it scraped against his metal-clad palms, but Optimus refused to let it slip from his grasp. Optimus wrenched himself forward, using the added strength of his entire body trapped around the glaive in order to twist the weapon’s polearm out of Shockwave’s grip. Chest heaving and forcing his legs to steady enough to rise to one knee, Optimus removed one hand to reach around and grab the glaive’s shaft from behind. His shoulder screamed in protest, but he forced his way through it and - as carefully and quickly as he could - pulled the glaive back out of him.

Optimus scowled at the blade, blackened by cursed enchantments. He took the weapon’s wooden shaft between both hands as he rose to his feet. Finding his balance and bracing himself, Optimus slammed the glaive down across his knee. The glaive splintered and snapped in two with a crack that seemed to thunder through the air. Its dark blade hissed, hallowed sunlight shining victoriously across its surface. Dropping both pieces of the broken weapon to the ground, Optimus Prime slowly turned around to face Shockwave.

Shockwave’s gaze burned into Optimus with the concentrated heat of a furnace, his helm low and his finials pinned back. His now empty hands curled into fists at his sides. Optimus stared him down, standing broad and grimly determined, even while one shoulder hung lower than the other. The atmosphere was choked between them, holding its breath as it waited for one of them to move.

Shockwave was the first to strike. Magic gathered in his fist and he catapulted it forward. Optimus dived to one side and rolled, snatching his axe from where it had fallen when he’d shielded Sunstreaker. Shockwave was already muttering another spell but Optimus didn’t give him a chance to complete it, he rushed in and swung, forcing Shockwave to withdraw instead.

The Decepticon had shown time and time again in this battle that he had no intention of holding back. Now, Optimus no longer felt a need to either. He kept applying pressure, charging in again and again, striking with his axe each time. Shockwave raised his vambrace to block an attempted blow to his chest, then seamlessly used the position to bash the thick piece of armour into Optimus’s face. Optimus jolted at the harsh impact against his visor but endured it, gritting his teeth and moving backwards to put distance between them. Shockwave’s singular golden eye seemed to glow as a dozen more points of gold materialised around him, each one as sharp as a javelin. Without hesitation Optimus switched stance and ran, keeping his gaze locked on the projectiles while he serpentined around. Each gold projectile flew with supernatural speed, arcing through the air and grazing the Prime’s heels as he sprinted. If he slowed at all, if he misjudged when to change direction, he knew he would be pierced clean through. The final point lodged itself in the ground, missing Optimus’ ankle by a hair. As it fizzled angrily, Optimus sucked in a breath and immediately rushed inwards again. His axe was ready the moment he was back within close range, and when he landed a retaliating swing to Shockwave’s shoulder, he heard Shockwave growl in steadily increasing frustration. Dimly, Optimus thought that Sideswipe would be pleased to hear about it.

Though Shockwave was holding his own, he had his own fair share of injuries inflicted by Optimus’ comrades, and Optimus was steadily gaining ground. Each step in retreat that Shockwave was forced to make, in order to avoid an attack he couldn’t shield himself against, was another step Optimus met and doubled.

The axe hit him in the ribcage and although it failed to cut through his chainmail, the force behind the strike still knocked Shockwave sideways. He stumbled, then fell to one knee with a grunt of pain torn out of him. There was no attempt to catch his breath as he knelt in the disturbed dirt, and his purple cape lay slumped in charred tatters behind him. Shockwave slowly lifted his head to look at Optimus before him. Optimus looked back at him with a deep frown set into his expression. His shoulder and hand throbbed, dully pleading for attention as his grip tightened on his axe.

“Surrender.” Optimus told him, in the same stern tone in which he had ordered Sunstreaker to run. Shockwave’s eye narrowed and his hands dug into the earth beneath them.

“No.”

The plant life under Shockwave’s palms shrivelled and decayed, choked in a wave that rippled out from beneath his hands. Optimus stepped back before the spreading death could reach his feet, gaze flicking across it warily. Thinking quickly, Optimus jumped the distance between them, hooked the curved underside of his axe around Shockwave’s neck, and with a cry of effort he heaved Shockwave onto his back. Shockwave hit the ground and immediately tried to get up, but Optimus firmly put his boot against Shockwave’s chest, pushing him back down again. Whatever necrotic spell Shockwave had been charging lashed around his hands and arms, and the surface of his armour practically buzzed with energy. Optimus spun the axe in his hand, then brought the butt-end of it down in a single, swift strike to Shockwave’s temple.

The Decepticon fell limp.

The spell shrieked with a hundred voices all overlapping each other as it dissipated into nothing.

Optimus’s eyes remained fixed on Shockwave’s unconscious form, even though his thoughts raced elsewhere. His heartbeat was loud and overwhelming in his ears, blocking out the sounds of battle still raging on in the distance. Somewhere in the din came Sunstreaker’s voice, along with those of a few other mages he recognised, and Optimus robotically removed his boot from Shockwave’s chest and stepped back. He shook his head to clear it while the spellcasters set to work on binding Shockwave before he had the chance to recover, watching with passing interest until one of them turned towards him.

“Uh, Optimus…?” A grimace was directed towards his wounds. “Did you want some help with…those?”

“I’m fine, but thank you.” Optimus replied, affixing a smile over his face as he politely waved down the offer. In the back of his mind, he thought that he would settle for the chance to take a breather, but he knew that there was still more fighting left to do.

Leaving Sunstreaker and the mages to handle Shockwave, Optimus Prime straightened his spine and broadened his shoulders more evenly. He turned and went northward, in the direction of the sound of the next raging battle.

[fanfictilltheend]

A Trick of the Winter Light (Joel Miller/You)

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/n: To fill the anon tumblr prompt: "I have a Joel x daddy issues!reader request!! Reader sees how good Joel is with Ellie, and it makes her happy and sad at the same time. She's happy Ellie gets to have an amazing father, but she can't stop thinking about what was wrong with herself that her father couldn't love her the way Joel loves Ellie. This causes a bit of trouble in their little family until Joel and ellie confront reader about why she's being distant. I'd like a happy ending where joel comforts reader too!!!"

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, past abusive father mention, daddy issues, referenced past domestic violence, sarah mention, please take care of yourself!!

Summary: Reader comes from an abusive home and seeing Joel and Ellie's good relationship is heartwarming but also confusing at times. When Joel and Ellie get in a snowball fight reader assumes the worst between the two of them and Joel and Ellie comfort you the best way they know how.

Your dad was an asshole. There was no other way of saying it. You can’t even count the number of times that fucker came after you with a belt. This wasn’t the worst of it though, you think. The worst was that that motherfucker basically ignored you your entire childhood except to criticize or beat you. No playing dolls, no showing up to soccer games, no high-fives if you managed to scrape up an A on your report card. Instead, radio silence except for the slamming of fists or the shouting of harsh words. 

To say this didn’t fuck you up would be a lie. But it didn’t just fuck up how you felt about yourself, that could have filled up a novel, no, it also fucked up how you perceived other people’s relationships. And that’s where Joel and Ellie came in.

When Joel and Ellie moved into Jackson it turned your life upside down in the best possible way. You were an assistant teacher in the Jackson high school and met Ellie first. She charmed her way into her heart and that dark and mysterious Joel Miller was soon to follow with prompting from Ellie. Joel had initially been cold to you as he was to everyone (maybe that’s what drew you to him – another emotionally unavailable older man who actively didn’t give a shit about you), but he warmed up to you quickly when he saw how awesome you could be with Ellie. The rest was history and you moved in with Joel and Ellie soon after.

Most days were amazing! You were so impressed with the way Joel fathered Ellie, always being so kind and considerate to her and the way he looked at her like the sun shone out of her ass always melted your heart. But it was a lot to get used to, seeing a real, mostly-functional father-daughter relationship that you just never had. And then sometimes you were transported into the past against your will.

Take today, for example. It was winter and snow covered Jackson like a Christmas card. School had been canceled for you and Ellie and a construction project Joel had been helping with became a snow hazard so he had off too. You and Joel had been reading contentedly on the couch until Ellie raced inside and threw a live snowball right into Joel’s chest. You died laughing until Joel got up and declared war on Ellie who raced back outside, giggling hysterically. You and Joel grabbed coats and gloves and ran out into the front yard and began lobbing snowballs at Ellie who was screaming with glee from behind a snowbank. Everything was fine until Ellie managed to hit Joel square in the face. Joel stopped what he was doing, wiped the melting snow off his face gruffly, got up from the embankment you two had hidden behind, and marched over to Ellie. Ellie’s eyes widened in fear and she ducked down behind her snowbank. In seconds, Joel was upon her and tackled her to the ground behind the large pile of snow and you simply lost it. You didn’t think Joel would ever be capable of hurting Ellie, but you had seen that ferocious look in his eye – that same look you’d seen in your father’s. 

“Joel!” you yelled urgently, running over. “Get the fuck off of her! How the fuck could you–”

But you cut yourself off the second you realized the two were just laughing, rolling around, and play-fighting in the freezing snow. 

Oh, I am an idiot . You thought to yourself, wiping away the tears that had somehow collected in your eyes.

“Chill out, Y/N–” Ellie giggled, turning over to face you. “Oh my god. Shit. Are you crying!? We were just messing around…” she trailed off, looking over at Joel with worry.

Joel was looking up at you now with concern too. He knew about your past, but you didn’t blame him for not connecting the convoluted dots. 

“Shit, darlin’,” he said gently. “Don’t cry. What’s the matter now?”

“I-I-thought–” you began, but suddenly you were crying. You were always a crier. Every time your dad hurt you verbally or physically, you always cried. Like clockwork. “Thought you were m-mad at Ellie. I-I’m so sorry,” you sobbed pathetically, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Ellie looked up at you again with worry. Then she put two and two together. (Always was a smart kid).

“You…you thought he was really gonna hurt me?” She asked, looking up at Joel from her spot on the ground. 

“Kinda,” you nodded, staring down at the snow-drenched earth.

“Joel’d never ever hurt me like that, Y/N,” Ellie said, getting up and taking your hand. “Don’t you know that?”

“Yeah, is the thing,” you replied, looking over into Joel’s eyes. “I know he never, ever would. You’re so lucky to have that, Ellie. I just knew some people who weren’t like that is all. And I sometimes forget how good people can be.”

Joel stood up too and put a large hand on your shoulder.

“Over my dead body, I’d ever hurt either one of you,” he said meaningfully, looking into your eyes and you knew he was telling the truth. 

And because of that, you burst into tears.

“Ellie, kiddo, why don’t you go over to Dina’s for a little?” Joel suggested gently.

Ellie gave you a kind of awkward side hug and nodded and made her way over to Dina’s house, looking back a little uneasily.

Joel mouthed something to her, but you couldn’t tell what because tears had flooded your vision.

“Hey, I dunno who you’re talking about, Y/N,” Ellie shouted from half-way down the block, cupping her mittens around her mouth. “About those asshole people. But I’ll kick their asses for you!”

“Thanks, Els!” you giggled through the tears. She was always looking out for you like that even though she was only fourteen. “You’re a good kid.”

And with that, Ellie disappeared into town with a last nod.

“Uh, why don’t we head on inside and have something hot to drink,” Joel suggested. 

You nodded your head and Joel took your hand so gently, which was so different than how you’d seen him handle a weapon on patrol that your heart broke a little more, unsure how you got lucky enough to find someone who handled you so tenderly. 

***

You both sat at the kitchen counter with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate as the sun got lower in the winter sky.

“Gonna tell me what that was all about?” Joel asked, putting his hand on yours.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” you replied, taking your hand away.

Joel frowned. 

“Not to me it ain’t,” he responded seriously, his brown eyes meeting yours. “Nothing you say is stupid. Hell, half the time I’ve gotta look up words you just slip into normal conversation.”

You grinned at that. This was Joel after all. You knew you could tell him pretty much anything and he wouldn’t judge you, had probably done fifty times worse. 

“You just…had this angry look in your eye when Ellie threw that snowball at you. It reminded me of how my dad used to look at me before he’d…get physical. In my mind, I know you would never, ever hurt Ellie. But it’s like my body hasn’t caught up to my thoughts and it’s still a little girl, living at home with a terrifying asshole.”

“I get that,” Joel said after a moment. 

“You do?”

“Sure. Sometimes…sometimes my body still feels like it’s holding Sarah the day I lost her even though it’s been twenty years.”

Joel rarely mentioned Sarah so you were honored he felt comfortable enough to bring her up. You put your hand back on his and rubbed his calloused skin tenderly.

“Never’d hurt you or Ellie though. Over my dead body, alright?” Joel continued meaningfully, reaching out a large hand to rub your back. “But your dad? That asshole? Like Ellie said, I’d kick his ass six ways to Sunday.”

You snort into Joel’s flannel-covered shoulder, trying to imagine it. Joel would rip that asshole limb from limb with his bare hands, you were sure of it. You’d heard stories of what he was capable of, had seen glimpses of it on patrols. Ellie would be more than happy to assist. Come to think of it, maybe you’d get a kick or punch in edgewise of your own.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked slowly, your foot tangling with his own. 

“‘Course, doll,” He replied with a kind smile.

“This may not mean a lot coming from me, seeing as I don’t know much better, but I really do think you’re an amazing father.”

“To me, angel, that means the world,” Joel told you with a genuine grin.

He leaned over and kissed you on the top of your forehead and then between your lips. You kissed him back lovingly.

“Your dad didn’t know what the fuck he was missing with someone like you,” Joel murmured low against your ear.

You grinned.

“Love you, Joel,” you told him, pulling him in for a hug.

“Love you too, babygirl. Never gonna let anyone lay a finger on you ever again.”

A/n: Any feedback would be much appreciated! Lmk prompts or suggestions or if you would like to be tagged! Thanks for reading!! ❤️

Masterlist

[y1naho]

What are your skk headcanons?

(waiting for someone to ask this)

PM skk + individual hcs

- they've definitely did drugs before. Okay, I don't think they're addicted, but they've tried it once and decided to never again. They're in the mafia, you telling me then don't do drugs in the mafia?!?!

- Chuuya used to have a little crush on Kouyou but then viewed her as his sister figure instead.

- Dazai was introverted in the PM- in the ADA yes he's a fucking extrovert but in the PM? Nuh uh

- insults as love language

- Chuuya would cook for Dazai but occasionally it’s the other way around

- Dazai keeps on making sex jokes to Chuuya

- Chuuya slaps Dazai every time he SH/attempt

- “You gay ass dog”

- Dazai records Chuuya singing in the shower

- you may not agree with this on but chuuya chased dazai

- they both had an identity crisis when they met each other

- arcade dates except instead of asking each other out normal they go like “im going to the arcade and im beating yo ass this time”

- chuuya is dyslexic

- Elise is number 1 skk shipper

- drunk dazai calls chuuya to pick him up from bar lupine sometimes

- dazai actually broke his arm once (attempted roller skating) and Chuuya punched him in the painful spot thinking it was fake

- karaoke nights

- ^ they sing inappropriate songs with two male singers

- chuuya taught dazai how to build a snowman, in return dazai threw a snowball with a rock inside at chuuya

I can ramble on and on but I'm too lazy but I swear I'll try and find more skk headcanons that I once posted

[volturiprincess]

Day 12: Twelve Drummers Drumming

Alec Volturi x fem vamp reader

Warnings: Angst no comfort, a little hallucination

Word Count: 1654

(Moodboard here)

Christmas was my most anticipated time of the year, the queens and I would try to add some festivity into the castle by some simple decor. The masters along with the queens would walk around the snowy grounds on Christmas morning while Felix and I threw endless snowballs at each other like children. It was that simple for centuries, but even in that time I yearned for a companion. Sure Felix is a great friend who makes this immortal life enjoyable but yet when I see the queens with their respective partners, I wish I could have that. And so when I finally did find my mate, my life took a turn in the wrong direction. Things at first were fine, I gave him his space, not wanting to overwhelm him with this bond since at the time he was a newborn. 

I told him if he ever needed help controlling his thirst or if his sister needed anything I would gladly be of assistance to him. But he never came to me, he only went to Felix but Jane did come to me. We bonded quite nicely, even if she was hesitant I gave her space and time as I did with her brother. As that much anticipated time came around, Jane joined me and the queens in decorating the castle. And once again I felt a little more joyful than usual thinking this would be my first Christmas with my mate, I had a plan planned out already. I would ask him if he would like to take a walk with me in the Gardens to enjoy the snow, that would give us an opportunity to get to know one another and maybe build up our bond. 

But oh was I so naive to think it would be that simple. As I made my way around the castle to find Alec, I spotted him by the doors that lead outside with Felix. They were talking as they usually do, Alec’s back was facing me while Felix was leaning against the open door. I was about to approach them when I heard Alec’s voice

“Are mates really a grand thing?”

Felix answered immediately. “They are, your mate is your everything, your reason for being, your better half you can say also. Without them you will always feel like you can never feel complete.”

“So how come you don't have one, shouldn't you be searching for them unless you already found them”

Felix this time smiled sheepishly. “Well you see mates don't just appear out of the blue, well in y/n case it kind of did since we would never suspect you and her would be mates”

Alec’s next words stung a bit. “Please don't say that, I'm not her mate, whatever Master Marcus has said is not true, I don't even feel anything towards her”

Felix's gaze turned hard after Alec’s words but when he met my gaze his eyes widened. I turned away quickly and vanished, I could never have others see me in such a vulnerable state. After that day, which marked December 25, right on Christmas day, I hardly left my chambers. That whole winter I never stepped foot outside, I had no motivation or desire to go out there. I would only be hit with the delusion I could have had with Alec. 

Time went by and today marks exactly a year since that day. Today is Christmas, yet I feel like it's any other day. I didn't help the queens or Jane this year to decorate, I didn't do the annual epic snowball fight with Felix. I didn't even touch my new winter cloak that Master Caius gifted me this year, it's just hanging in my closet waiting for me to put it on and run outside. This year I’m spending my time alone, away from everyone, in my chambers by the fireplace. It's the only physical warmth I get nowadays, Felix has frequently come to try to convince me to go out but my stubbornness always wins. 

Jane has also come to see me but I treat her the same as I do with Felix, everyone else has come to get me out of this gloomy aura except him. I'm not surprised though, why would he come and check on me? He himself said he does not feel anything for me. But today out of all the days this could ever happen to me, I felt something in me snap, almost like if I was physically slapped with reality. I got up and dressed myself properly, I even decided to wear the new cloak and I headed outside. I went to this lookout that oversees the ocean. I used to come here quite often until I eventually stopped coming all together.

The detailed railing was covered in icicles and a thin layer of snow, it was beautiful as always. I stood there looking over the ocean with no thoughts in mind, just the gentle feeling of the breeze hitting my face and the salty smell of the ocean meeting my nose. The sun was already setting and the stars were starting to come out to cover the sky like a blanket. It was a comforting environment, nobody was around which helped me maintain my thoughtless brain, empty. I closed my eyes as I leaned into the railing, I don't know why but my eyes started to burn in a way, was I crying? It should be impossible to do such a thing. I opened my eyes again to try to blink them away when I saw Alec standing in front of me. 

I have never had the opportunity to see him up close without him turning away the minute our eyes meet. To be able to do that now is almost like a joke. He was so dreamy, I felt as if I were in a dream, a dream that I wish could have happened that day. He studied me, as if I were a foreign thing to him, an unknown, in other words he was looking at me with uncertainty. He reached a hand to my cheek slowly, he is acting as if I were to bite his hand off. Once his hand made contact with my cheek and it just rested there I almost wanted to gasp out loud, his hand sent little shockwaves through my body, it gave me life for a moment. 

He turned back to meet my eyes again, and oh what a site, the stars were in his eyes at that moment, his burgundy eyes were so unique and beautiful. I never seen such a shade before but they suit him perfectly. He seemed so surreal, this moment here cannot be real. I must be dreaming for sure. I wanted to tell him so many things, try to salvage what can be and try to seal our bond, I still had hope. He leaned in a bit. Is he going to kiss me? Is he finally willingly accepting our bond? 

He seemed like he was about too but he mumbled a quick “I can't” and then he was gone, I was left there, still being able to feel his hand on my cheek. Still being able to feel that tingly feeling he gave me when he made contact. I wanted to break down, I wanted to scream, I wanted to rip someone's head off, I wanted to go on a rampage of subduing my thirst that had suddenly crept up on me. I…wanted to go after him and pull him into my arms and actually be wrapped in his arms like I have envisioned to happen if I ever had a mate.

I went back to my room ignoring  Felix's surprise gasp, ignoring all of the voices that were heard all around the castle, ignoring how my mind started to be clouded with the worst of thoughts to mankind, ignoring the feeling of heartbreak. I was right back to the beginning, back in my room with the cloak discarded somewhere in my room, my shoes were off before I could even take three steps into my room, my hair was once again a mess, my dress was ripped off so I was left in my white slit. I went to my floor length window to be met with my reflection, my mess of a reflection, a being who used to feel so much joy and had high hopes for their immortal life was gone.

I blinked once and the reflection changed. Instead of me it was Alec, but his clothes were different. He was dressed quite elegantly, he looked like a prince from those books I used to read with the queens. I reached a hand out to the window while he mimicked my movement, our hands finally touching, it looked like my hand could fit perfectly into his. I met his gaze as he was already looking at me, this time he was not starting with confusion, no he was looking at me with..love, his face was soft and relaxed. A small smile was starting to form on his handsome face as I myself felt one spreading onto mine.

I wanted to intertwine my hand with his when I am met with my hands clawing glass, I am met with reality. I remember this is not real, I remember he's not actually there, i remember he's no prince charming, I remember that I have a power to create illusions, I remembered I used my own ability just now to create a reality I so desperately want, I remembered that my own mate does not want me and he turned away from me again. I remembered that my last Christmas was the one where my perspective on mates changed, not all mates want theirs or accepted them gladly.