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anika-ann · 2 days ago

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My favourite of Stellas, as if one could ever mind a reblog, let alone multiple reblogs and a gorgeous detailed commentary like this 🥹 I feel BLESSED by the gods an your support and love for this story and I know I keep saying it, but please please please, comments/reblog come if or when they do and I am excited that you dived into the story of these two 💕

But before we dive in:

my poor brain can only survive so much protective knight Steve before it blue-screens to death

Extermely relatable. As you know 🤭

Now. Spoilers and details under cut.

As I said, I feel very blessed, among other million things, for your attentive reading. Because she sure had a feeling that the time was not right before for a reason she might not be able to explain, but it was there. I entirely agree Steve would have had a harder time if he already knew prior rushing to her.

Hehe I also do not apologize for Morgana 🤭 (hello AD though). This set-up is heavily inspired by Merlin TV series and I make no apologies 🤭 That includes an ass of a king. Glad you think the behavioru sits Howard as well as his inspiration in his counterpart in Merlin.

Ah, Bucky Barnes, attempting (and mostly failing) to stop Steve from being a dumbass in every universe. Bucky Barnes needing a drink in every universe.

...and other facts that made me snort 😂 Yes indeed. Where would be the fun if it was not the case here too? That said, I'm always incredibly pleased and humbled when you compliment characterisation, directly or indirectly, so I'm really glad to see you making these observations about Bucky, Steve hmself and their dynamics! Including the parallels to the Accords (my not beloved) and Steve's protectivness (my beloved) - we do share love for nuclear armageddon Steve 😏💕

And yes 😭 Thank you for catching the Bible reference and how I try to balance the whole paganism-Christianity beliefs coexisting, to me, it is such an important layer, all the more since Steve would have been closer to latter originally, his relationship to a literal witch who has beliefs on the other side of the scales for obvious reasons making him question all he knows and has been taught, times and times again. You get a cookie 🥺

You are so incredibly generous with your compliments and since you mentioned this story not doing as well as I hoped (very true), it means even more than usual 💕

Thank you, sending hugs and wishing a kind new year upon us all ✨

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R.

Part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 8,6k

Summary: Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

“Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

#r #reactions #protect me #ochranuj me #so so grateful

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midnight-mourning · 14 hours ago

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DECEMBER IS OVER!!! New Year, What's Next?

Well chat, with literally three minutes to spare we finished out DCA December IN December, and then of course you got a little bonus thingy as well hehe :)

So! Having said that, wanted to take a moment to talk about some plans, what to expect to see from me next, and so on

BUT FIRST, I would like to take the time to thank everyone who sent in requests for this little event, I appreciated every single one of them, and had SO much fun writing, I hope everyone enjoyed the little stories I wrote, couldn't have done it without everyone sending in such creative & unique ideas, thank all of you so much!

@monsteractiasluna @juukai @deviouscrackers @zenkaiankoku @buzzybee3 @fishm0ther @divinit3a @zoranight16 @cosmic-quakes @soupdweller @lizyxml @pip-plz @theinfamousmaybelle @lizyxml (again <3) @rosescarletful @crystalmagpie447 @buzzybee3 (again <3) @kaprisvn @vypridae @twomanypockets @zenkaiankoku (again <3) @juukai (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3 <3 thank u tempest you helped feed the people fr) @twomanypockets (again <3) @pip-plz (again <3) @divinit3a (again <3) @baby-bloos @alynwrench @baby-bloos (again <3) @ccccaptain-clownyyy @luckyyyduckyyy

Additionally, thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, or commented on these fics, it's so very appreciated (I would tag everyone but there are, a startingly large amount of you 😅) I will come clean and admit that I am always a little nervous when I upload my writing, so knowing that people enjoy my work when I share it is, humbling, to say the least <3

Okay! Now to get into it, below the cut just so people dont have to scorll through my rambling plans & such (there is a POLL however that even if you skip my nonsense you should vote in pretty please ^-^)

So, despite some shortcomings with me getting a bit behind (curse you sinus infection & finals week) I'm really happy with how this went!

I'll be taking a break for a bit and def will NOT be posting as much as I did near the end there, BUT I'll still be writing per usual, especially since I have two weeks left to my break. Before I get into what you can expect to see, wanted to do a quick interest check on whether people would like me to do something similar for Valentine's!

Since I'll be back at college again I won't be able to do a full month again, buuuut, I should be able to handle 14 days worth, if the interest is there I would open up requests probably the last week of January so I had time to get started/ahead. So,

Rules would be the same as for DCA December, except with a Valentine's Theme!

Now that that's taken care of, here's what'll be going on with me as we start 2025!

I'm working on Holiday Spirit ch. 2, should be posting either today or tomorrow! Still aiming to get it done before I go back to school so expect quicker updates now that requests are finished :) (you can find out more about this story here)

Confused Spirit ch. 36 is also in the works! I'll be honest in that my sinus infection JUST cleared up a week or so ago, and additionally i've been facing a bit of writer's block with the story just bc of where we're at and I want to make sure it's really good/properly expresses what I'm going for with this fic, but I'm working on getting more out to you all soon, as well as working on getting ahead again while I have time, thank you all for your paitence with this one, it's very appreciated <3 (if you don't know about Confused Spirit, you can find out more here, it's my current main dca project :D)

DCA December will be reviewed for spelling and grammar mistakes and be uploaded to ao3 throughout January, if you'd like to read anything again (or you're wanting to get caught up and have a better reading experience) you can see the masterpost here, which will have the ao3 link once I get started on editing

Getting into non-fic things, I'll also be working on organizing my blog so things are easier to find as I know it's a bit messy currently >_< bear with me as it gets fixed up

I really want to improve on my art! After collecting things up for my 2024 art summary, i realized I've improved a lot but still have more room to grow (and many ideas that I want to see made by a more skilled hand >~<) so, expect to see some art things from me floating around including but not limited to: my trick or treat responses (im sorry these are so late, it's brutal out here), Cast of CS refs, more Holiday Spirit doodles, magma things, CS chapter promos, & new refs for the CS boys! there's some more things i have planned but I am keeping them a secret for now ;)

Okay! Think that's everything, thanks again to everyone for making this a whole lot of fun, and can't wait to share more with you all in 2025! Happy New Year!

#dca fandom #fnaf dca #dca fic #x reader #confused spirit #holiday spirit au #mm dca december #genuinely enjoyed this so much #and also have met so many cool people because of it!#so excited to share more soon #the CS/HS content coming y'alls way is #fun #i'll say that :)

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hyuckmov · 2 years ago

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currently squirming out of excitement when i saw ur wips!!! >< part 2 of all of my faves honestly!!! and that mark one i am quite excited about as well fkkdndn

AAAAAAA I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO ALL OF IT JUST IMAGINING WHAT SCENES COULD BE IN EACH PART 2'S (AS WELL AS SOME SORT OF PREQUEL FOR JUST FOR YOU) IS MAKING ME GIDDY

if you would ever have a taglist for all of your works some time soon I definitely would like to be included <333

but of course do take ur time! happy writing! ^^

AAAAA thanks for sharing your excitement with me :) if you have any ideas or scenes you would want to see do share them w me here hehe it's always good to have extra inspiration <3 i never anticipated writing part 2s but it comforts me to know that people look forward to it and i'll do my best to make sure it's enjoyable when read on its own too

also about the taglist omg sure i'll set up a form or something bc i got asked about this before, i'll put it in my pinned / make a post about it when it's up. thank you for being patient w me!!

#and thanks for sending this in as always HEHE #asks #updates

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ryllen · 9 months ago

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Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

#letterstoear #nui #twst #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twst grim #mod posting #okay but i love squishing the bears with my thumb; they just have the right thickness to be pressed on #i really like the flower stickers; they look like romantically artistic wax seal #the letters are pleasantly nice #i love the part where cheka personally request for an audience with yuu thru sebek 🥺🥺🥹🥹 too cute hnggh .......#sebek becoming our little mailman for our little invitation aw 🥹 for those who wanna know the context of the letter;#i requested a letter from sebek that he sent home while he was away accompanying malleus on other country duty #my other favorite part is just him simply opening the letter with 'My love'#i'm sealed 🥹 the first paragraph is written so sweetly #i enjoy reading the letter slowly outside in peaceful afternoon today; i ran it through together with sebek nui #this will be my treasured keepsake from now on 🥹; it seriously made me miss letters and wish i have someone to send this kind of letter to #it was a bit funny how the envelope sebek's letter came from is sticked with the guys from free! sticker fhsdsh 🤣😂#and me with the white haired guy like WHo are u?? fsjdsdjsd (´つヮ⊂); but it's a really nice service #the thank you letter came with such a cute and yummy folding paper; thank you for the stickers too #i feel like there's a bit whoopsie on grim's winky eye fshfh like i think the sharpie just blurs the separating space '<' supposed to have #and just combine it all together into one angry eye; and sebek bear's eyes are just a little bigger than i expected it to be #but the more i look at them i think they are just having a little individuality & still cute #i embraced it all together while knowing the fact none of handmade thing would always be the same one with the other; hehe sebek nui has fr #i kinda forget that there's this kind of clip earring fshd; because i always get the ones that work like screw from aliexpress #i know that the literal clip one would just be literal meaning of pain fsh; just like the magnet one my father once got me when i was a kid #it was painful but pretty; tho i lost it quickly bcs magnet easily get loosed once one part of it moves around when u touch ur hair or face #anyhow i had a pleasant day because of this; thank you very much ! sebek nui said 'thank you' too! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ❀ ✿ 𖤣…

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floatingseaotter · 2 days ago

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Old, New, Ballroom, and Blue

or Fire and Rain

Song - Jackie and Wilson by Hozier

"...at length" count - 55

- we are so backkkkkkkkkk

This wasn't going to be weird. Really—he wouldn't let it be weird. He gad a girlfriend now, and he could be over Evans, who obviously had no romantic feelings for him, She was a girl—a lovely, insane, completely fantastic girl, but, all the same, just a human being. And, from an evolutionary standpoint, humankind was built to handle rejection from others of the species (even from lovely insane, completely fantastic ones). It wasn't going to be weird. He was completely over Lily Evans. He rang the doorbell. A short eternity later, Lily opened the door. She wore a blue bathrobe and a giant yellow t-shirt covered the essentials and not much else. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of James, and she moved to close up the bathrobe. "Nice shirt," said James almost automatically. "Nice hat", she retorted, without missing a beat. And thats when he knew it. Namely, that this was going to be a lot trickier than he'd thought. Damn it.

- they are so silly!!!!! JUST KISS for heavens sake.

I have forgotten so much about this. I thought Lathe found James and Lily in the corridor but my memory appears to have missed an entire chunk of this chapter!

"Girlfriend, eh?" scoffed Falstaff to James. "Personally, I thought you looked better with the ginger."

- LMAO PLEASE the way everyone and their mother ships James and Lily in these two chapters from the reporter to the random hit-wizard!!!

hehe Lily got stunned and she was just worried that James remembered to act as though his arms were still bound hehehe

Lily stirred, and James let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin," he muttered, as her eyes fluttered open. "Are you okay? Agrippa's sake—what was he thinking, stunning someone at that range? You could have been seriously..." "Your hands," Lily muttered hoarsely, for James was—gently as possible—helping her into a sitting position. He leaned her against the desk

they are both just worried about each otherrrrr <3<3<3<3

Ooooooooh I JUST realise that James used the name Tom Baker because Lily had mentioned earlier on that it was Tom Baker on the tele! There is definitely some subconscious level of him that did that because Lily said she fancied Tom Baker 😌

They are refusing to acknowledge their ALMOST KISS and it's annoying me!!

But HUZZAH! Secret 1) James is Head Boy, has been revealed!

"You're stronger than I am, aren't you?" James rolled his eyes. "Have you seen yourself, Twig?" "None of that, now," Lily retorted. "I dislocated Nick Mulciber's jaw once, if you remember." "Don't be cute," replied James cooly.

- heheheheheheheh CALL BACK

James just said to Lily, "God bless him" in relation to her dad and i think that is a wee call back to their conversation about believing in God in The Art of Walking?

HAND HOLDING KLAXON🚨

ahhhhh here is the Lathe finding them in the corridor :) I love him!! Did Alice send him? DID DONNA?

Alice "spilling the tea" both literally and figuratively to Caradoc there lol

Alice is actually the queen of stealth right now, and I, like her, currently have no idea where Frank is or what happened to him? Like, what do you mean he was tied up in an office, I am so confused! OOOOOOOH, I see what's happening here, she is reuniting with James and Lily!

Frank is confirmed missing™️ by King Lathe but we already knew that because I cannot remember a damn thing about this.

Every character in this fic loves correcting peoples grammar? Lily does it often, so does James, and now Lathe is doing it too! its such a funny little quirk. Especially in the way that it is always the most formal correction too because it's stuff I am realising i likely say wrong too LOL

Frank has been found!

"Apparently, he didn't think it was professional to let a captive sit on the sofa, so we put him in a cell. No worries—Moody's back there with him." James noted the article of furniture in the corner. "Why do you have a sofa in here?" "Thats the question you choose to ask?" Lily murmured, raising her eyebrows. "It's quite comfortable," said Lathe casually. "I'd let you sit on it, but apparently that's not professional. What shall we do with you lot, then? "We could put him in the cell," Halliday, the with, suggested, referring to Lily, James and Alice again. "I hear it's quite the professional thing to do."

- they are so funny lmao gimme a sequel of this auror trio

ahhh Moody really borderline poisoned a four year old James and said CONSTANT VIGILANCE lmaoooo

"Test Miss Evans, Potter. I don't know her; you'll have to do it." "Oh." Lily folded her arms, while James ran an awkward hand through his hair. "I suppose I can..." (Frank and Alice exchanged meaningful looks that Lily had no interest in interpreting), 'Last Halloween," sid James, recollecting something. "What happened?" "The witch though back; several things had happened. She had been partnered with James in Defence class, she had confronted Frank about telling Alice the truthm she was pretty sure it was rainging that day—but, all of that aside, Lily knew the incident James reference. "We became friends," she said smiling. "Potentially." For an instance, James matched her smile, and then he turned to Moody nodding.

-- I love them your honour!!!

Frank tested Alice on her favourite song lyric, and then moody was satisfied. "Well this has been fun," said Lathe.

-- I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOUR

"Alright, lad," said Moody to Lathe; "Now we'll see if you're really up for this job." "Three years hasn't proved me capable?" "But I'll be old." "Watch it, lad."

- Noooooo because in my head I have just compared Lathe to Tonks in that Moody took them both under his wing and now I am upset! In my head—even though it gravely upsets me to think it—he and Donna died together at some point before or after the 1995, and so he never actually got to grow old (like Tonks) and Moody lost his prodigè. Oh no what if Moody saw Lathe in Tonks after he lost him😭 But also, a part of me hopes that Donna and Lathe they moved away together to travel the world and lived happily ever after😌.

HAHAHA James and Lily locked in a cell with Frank and Alice snogging lmaoooo but they are so in love 🥹

"What, Longbottom?" the Marauder asked dryly. "No kiss for me?"

-- HAHAHAHAH

James proud of Lily for taking the door of its hinges!!!

my feeling that Donna that contacted Lathe continues...

Not Lily saying James and Alice had an affair because she kissed him on the cheek hahahahaa I love stirring the pot she said double double toil and trouble

I love reading James' stubborness and also the way Alice was able to get Moody to go with Lily into Dearborns office, like go girl! I have no memory of this bit either though! Lily Evans my Queen!

Add Alice to the James and Lily shipping list!

Everyone but James knows Lily is going to be hurt that he hasn't told her and I just remember what happens on the train I hate this plot so bad!!!! (I still love you fic) But get him Alice!!!! ...Does everyone believe that Lily has feelings for James that she just hasn't recognised herself? Because Sirius made a comment earlier on and now Alice is saying this to James and it's all just pointing to Lily and James being dumb about each other and everyone is just having to watch on!

"Wait here one moment" James in a cell: "Where would we go?"

- Admittedly, i cackled.

The door to the office once more swung open, hitting the wall behind it with a bang and admitted—not another auror—but Sirius Black. "Padfoot?" "Sirius?" The two in the cell rose, while Sirius strode inside, quite casual, grinning at the sight of them. "Oh, fantastic, you're both okay. I nearly didn't believe them, you know."

- This entrance is so on brand for Sirius Black and I am obsessed with it!

James Potter stubborn toddler™️

I do not like thought that Lathe saying he has had all sorts of training to withstand many, many different kinds of persuasion was some kind of foreshadowing of torture! We are so blessed to have never had to read that.

"I'm journaling about it the moment i get home," said Lily dryly. "A diary sort of bird, are you?" "It's my fatal flaw, I'm afraid."

- You and me both, Lily girl. You and me both.

Also, Sam, my love who I have not screamed about enough<3

DONNA ABSOLUTELY CALLED LATHE!

First Order of the Phoenix mention by Frank and Alice there hm? They are SO CUTE!!!!!!!!

"No, a pair is always two," agreed Lily. "It's like 'couple.' Always two." "Unless she's into it," said Sirius. "Oh, don't look so sour; that was funny."

- AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Lathe smiled, scratching the back of his neck. "I received an owl last night," he replied slowly and deliberately, "from a mutual friend, relaying a very strange and garbled message that I had to translate, Merlin knows how but, which ultimately made it quite clear that if anything were to happen to either you or Potter, I would no longer be welcome in the Leaky Cauldron."

IT WAS DONNA MWAHAHAH JACKLEBOLT NATIONE RISE! Also, was Lathe also referring to his orders from Donna when he found Lily and James?! I love them so bad!!! And I fully forgot about the mirror aspect of how Donna knew they needed help. But the fact that Lathe went for her!! IM SQUEALING!

"Actually, I feel alright." Sirius said cheerfully, "I say we go to Prongs' house." "Why do you want to go to my house?" asked James. "Because I miss your mum." "Don't be weird." "Can't help it—she has that affect on me."

- hhhaahahaahahaahahah

"What?" asked Frank, chuckling. "Why are you smiling at me like that?" She paused. Then— "Marry me." Frank's eyes grew wide. Nonetheless, almost immediately, he replied: "Yes." Then he shook himself. "I mean, no. I mean—yes, but... you weren't supposed to ask me. I'm supposed to ask you ! Look, look, I've..." He pulled away, disappearing into the adjacent bedroom for nearly a minute. When he returned to the kitchen (a bewildered Alice had removed the now empty kettle from the fire), Frank carried a small black velvet box, wrought with potential. Alice grinned. "That's not earrings, is it?" "No," mumbled Frank. "I was waiting for September first, because that's the eight year anniversary of when we met, and..."

[....]

"Well, then, it's your turn, Francis. I proposed last time." He grinned and opened the case. For a moment, Alice did not say anything. The ring that sat there had a gold band and a round, un-mounted diamond that winked at Alice in the orange lamplight. She smiled and held out her hand expectantly. "Alice Griffiths..." "Yes, dear?" "Will you marry me?" "Yes, dear." Frank slipped the ring onto her finger...

Oh Amaryllis is Grace's favourite flower? You mean the flower—that I learned after a quick wee google—is ...not a type of lily which i really hoped it was.

Also, Lily is in love with the Potters' house and girliem that's gonna be yours in like one year!! I like the idea that Sam is fully aware of this and is showing Lily what she will be marrying into 😌 Dammit, he just said Grace was selling them off so don't think about marrying him for his money lmao but the only house James is getting is Godric's Hollow (and this house) and in chapter 24—Contra Mundum—he said he usually gets bored there but I like to think that once it was considered his home with Lily, he no longer got bored there because they were so happy there together🥹

"That's it, there," said Sam, leading the way to a picture hanging further away. It was what Lily imagined they might have called a cottage two hundred years ago, with its beige stone walls and picturesque gables. Still, it was a lovely house: the yard was green, especially against the grey sky (the little black outline of birds could be seen, soaring across the back of the canvas), and there was a certain air of romance to the whole thing. "I like it," she decided. "Why? The town's dead boring." "It has soul." "Merlin, you sound like Gracie."

- I love that she loves it so much but now I am sad because thats where they die and of course its got soul, a piece of voldemorts too soon enough I need Lily to meet Grace NOW.

THE ELVES KNOW LILY'S NAME MWAHAAHAH

"Very funny," said Lily. Marlene raised her eyebrows inquisitively. "Just ogling Pemberley," Lily explained lightly; the blonde—as the only one there to catch the reference—looked more interested still. "Is that right, Lizzie dear?" "Who said anything about Lizzie? I'm Aunt Gardiner."

- No you're not Lily!!!

The Potter elves loving Sirius🥹

"Of course, you know most of us. I'm James, your sole progeny." "Yes, unfortunately," "Sole progeny of which I am aware, at any rate. That's Sirius—he's a git—and that's Remus, the son you wish you had..." [...] "This is Mary Macdonald and Marlene Price—they're in my house and year," James went on, "And... oh, well, I suppose..." he faltered almost imperceptibly, "...this is Lily Evans, same story. Everyone: my mother."

- First of all, LMAO! Second of all, the floundering at introducing LILY!!!

Sirius—draped over the chaise lounge like a cast away cloak

Alice smiled, raising her eyebrows in amusement. "Donna, that's the plan. Dying tomorrow isn't what we want; it's a possibility—honestly, it's the possibility we don't think about often enough. But the point of getting married is to live together, not just to die together."

- <3

One day, in the not too distant future, Sirius Black would serve as the best man in his best mate's wedding. In the mean time, he received ample practice with Frank Longbottom.

- JULES CAN YOU NOT

And now I present, lines and snippets from the wedding that hurt my feelings:

James forgot to knock.

That dress must have been crafted by satan himself.

And, for the first time since he had gone to the coast, James questioned his assumption. They hadn't kissed. She had said that she couldn't. She didn't want him. He had known this. He'd been so convinced. But was there any chance that he was wrong? And, if he had been wrong, would it make a difference?

"Thank-you for checking in on me, but I'll be alright." He wanted to argue, but she added: "Really, I'll be just fine." "And what if you're not?" he asked. Because the last thirty-six hours had been a small battle compared to what seemed to inevitably lie ahead.

Hehhehehh James pretending not to hear her when she asked how the house elves knew her name

The wedding is so beautifully written. I am crying!

He stole a glance at Lily again, who met his hazel eyes with her own teary green ones, and he grinned at the sight of her. She made a face—probably thinking he was mocking her for her sentimentality—because, of course, she had no idea how she looked there... what the tears did for the color of her eyes and in her cheeks... how he wanted so desperately not to care... not to want her at all... He would try (because requited fancy might be nicer than unrequited love). He wouldn't think himself doomed to failure (even if he was). He'd do his best (it was only fair).

- the way this fic contains these moments which are so gorgeous and romantic and just present a relationship so brilliantly, written so vividly is genuinely such a gift... we are so lucky. THANK YOU JULES!

"Husband and wife," said the little wizard, and everyone clapped, and James joined in when Frank and Alice kissed. Lily laughed tearfully with the others, grabbing and squeezing the nearby Marlene's hand. James tore his eyes away and found Sirius watching him. "What?" "Nothing," said Sirius, shrugging (and looking obnoxiously knowledgeable). "Nothing at all."

- Sirius is all of us actually

The end of this chapter feels like the end of a coming of age movie. I would almost feel fulfilled if the credits started rolling there because that's exactly what it feels like! It is so romantic and hopeful and joyous with Alice and Frank—who i adore, they are so in love and so sweet—and them all just having so much fun! (I would obviously require a sequel though because James and Lily, Marlene and Adam, and Donna and Lathe, and the war plot were obviously not complete but you know what I mean) It is potentially one of my favourite scenes in the entire fic i think🥹

"Thank-you," she said loudly, over the din of the rain and the voices of the others. Additionally, other Diagon Alley residents, shopkeepers, and shoppers stepped out to marvel at the first rain in months. "For what?" he asked, confused. "For coming to get me yesterday." "You're not angry with me for getting you kind of arrested?" Lily shrugged. "I dunno. It'll make a good story, I reckon." James shook his head. "You enjoy this too, don't you?" "What?" "Battling beaurocratic injustice." Lily smiled. "Well, I guess it was inevitable." "What was?" "That eventually we'd end up picking the same battle, you and I." She was right, too. "I suppose so," James agreed, grinning. "It's about time, isn't it?" "It certainly is."

I am re-reading The Life and Times

And it is getting documented. Purely for my own benefit.

The Life and Times by Jewels5

She was dramatic. He was dynamic. She was precise. He was impulsive. He was James, and she was Lily, and one day they shared a kiss, but before that they shared many arguments, for he was cocky, and she was sweet, and matters of the heart require time.

#tlat re-read #tlat #chapter 29

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sainz100 · 30 days ago

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2024 Las Vegas GP ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ by Irwen Song

#max verstappen #red bull mechanics #autumn posts #I hope everyone is well if you're reading this!!! 💞💞#work has me so stressed rn ahh 😵‍💫 sometimes it just gets so overwhelmingly busy #I have to remind myself everything will be okay 🌅❤️✨ and all I can do is my best!! I'll keep on working hard 🔥 then relaxing hard too hehe!#I can't be around as much and its sad when the season is almost over!! my first end of a season as a new fan!!#one chapter closes and another to start 📚#but I'm excited for the winter break too ❄️🩵💙 so much fanfic I cannot wait to catch up on reading!!!!! so hyped!!! 💖💖#and maybe to write...imagine if I had a fanfic blog out there somewhere 😳✨ hehe its not a big secret but I'll maybe link it here soon!!#I'm kinda still cutting my teeth (is that the phrase?) like getting used to putting stuff out there #but I'm just so immensely thankful to everyone there and here on this blog!! like...#the likes and tags and posts and art folks share 🥹💞 one of the best parts of my day is stopping by tumblr and sharing in this with y'all #so thank you for always being so excellent and all the wonderful shared vibes and musings and fun over the blorbos ✨🙂‍↕️#a delight!!!!!!!!!!!#okay back to work here 🫡❤️ idk love to gab in the tags #excited to be back soon!!! 💖💖💖 sending everyone the most immaculate of vibes for a great time of day wherever u are!! 🏙️🌃🌇❤️✨

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spinnysocks · 8 days ago

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*pops into your inbox* okay spinny there has been this ship idea that’s been at the back of my mind for a teensy bit and I think I talked to it abt gem once but I wanted to ask your thoughts on it!! (beware the ramble :’])

makini x fuli. I KNOW it sounds very crackship and also fuli would never date makini as lovable as she is but the dynamic of yapper x listener and the image of fuli being all daggers with everybody then all soft with makini? and also makini usually being all loud and chatters but bcoz she knows fuli needs some quiet you’ll find makini the most quiet when shes around fuli (and when shes not mjuzi-ing)? thoughts? :3

HI RAHM!! :D

i . i genuinely think you could tell me about any tlg crackship and i'd get into it LMAO, cuz i'm lovin this idea! yapper x listener makini x fuli! fuli being all soft around makini! them having quiet time together!! aaaaaaaaa /pos. i support this completely :3

#RAHHHH gonna think about them now :] /pos #thank you for the ask!!#everyone feel free to send me more crackships hehe :3 #asks!!#the lion guard thoughts #makini #fuli #sometimes i feel like i'm just the blog to ask about weird (/AFFECTIONATE SILLY) tlg thoughts #because i'll almost always get on board with them LMAOO #like im pretty much down for anything hfhdjd #just a funny thought :]

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tunamayojazz · 2 years ago

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the vampire/snake au drawing! i loved toge's expression in it!

AAA THANK YOU!!! that's honestly one of my favorite inuokko aus i've worked on. it's also great practice for expressions bc toge is truly going through it in this one.

bc i miss this au so much here are some angsty, angy and despairing toges!

some very wordy context for each toge below.

caution warning for mentions of blood and violence (towards a cursed spirit)

top left: one of the few times toge lets his guard down is when he thinks he's alone. those are also the times he allows himself to feel just how beaten down and tired by he is because of this "curse" he's struggling with. at this particular moment is when yuta confirms that something is truly wrong with toge. he'd just gotten back from a mission when he sees the boy by himself in the school gardens. he's never seen him look so lost and exhausted, and the sight is something that seriously worries yuta. toge catches yuta staring from a distance and immediately shifts his expression, giving the other a weak smile and waving as though nothing is off.

top right: this moment is mentioned in the first post i made about this au, when yuta tries probing into toge's unspoken struggles (bc he knows something is wrong, and it's killing him to feel this helpless).

"a few more unusual things happen that yuta simply cannot keep quiet about, so he tries his luck finding out from toge himself, and is surprised when on his 5th or so try, toge snaps, and yuta swears tht he saw toge's irises turn into slits for a millisecond and the air around them getting slightly heavier. but together with toge's anger, it vanishes in a flash. toge calms himself and simply signs that "people change". yuta frowns like a kicked puppy."

i would honestly change the tone to something a little more serious: yuta doesn't frown like a kicked puppy, he feels his heart drop to his stomach and is lost for words. toge leaves without saying anything else, leaving yuta to sit in silence, confusion and hurt.

just what had happened in the time he was gone?

bottom: the moment of a horrifying realization. after barely two weeks of experiencing odd changes to himself (heightened senses, bursts of anger, intense dislike to heat, an unquenchable thirst for something he can't quite name), the true extent of this new feeling reveals itself during a solo mission.

it's a tricky cursed spirit to beat and toge feels himself get increasingly aggravated the more the curse tries to play with him. at one point, he snaps. when he shouts "don't move", it doesn't wear off even after the usual duration of the cursed command passes. ruthlessly, he takes his time and tears into the curse with his bare hands, sharp nails digging into whatever he can grip onto and ripping and ripping until there's nothing left. he hadn't even realize he'd been muttering throughout it either, words like "die, just die" contributing to the cursed spirit's violent demise. it takes several moments of silence to take it all in, and it terrifies him when he does.

one: something is happening to him, something deeply twisted and wrong.

two: no one can know.

#as per usual i write mini essays when it comes to toge #also i should really come up with a name for this au #it always feels great to draw my boy...#thank you for sending responses to my post about inuokko aus! they will take time to be answered bc i am sketching stuff for some of them #hope you enjoy the angst and more from this au hehe #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #inumaki #inumaki toge #inuokko #ottoge #okkotsu yuta #yuuta #okkotsu yuuta #art #drawing toge saying okaka like that was so scary. it feels like i gave my child a knife and told him to point it at someone. sorry yuta

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waterfallofspace · 2 years ago

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9, 42, and 45 for a sick, sneezy vash please, if that’s okay? 😄

Thank you for the ask, of course that's okay!! (it does feature a hint of W/olfwood action too, just a smiiidge, hope that's alright hehe~ It's also a V/ashwood story since, well, I figured that would be alright~!) 1.9k words, prompts 9, 42, and 45, story under cut! 9. “You’re trembling.” 42. “Baby, you’re all sniffly.” 45. “Your nose is literally twitching.” (Brief mentions of anxiety just incase anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

“hn’chh-! hh’keshh-! ‘Scuse me, sorry.”

“I told ya, no need for the ‘pologies.”

“Y- you did but it’s a hahh... habit. hek’ishh-! Sor-”

A dark look from Wolfwood cuts off the apology, Vash being reduced to stuttering out some nonsensical syllables in his effort to recover. His leg is still, but there’s constant movement in his hands as they attempt to find something to grab onto. Anxiety was never a stranger to the man, despite apparent lack of concern for his own safety most of the time.

The town they find themselves in doesn’t have a motel, which isn’t that unique in these parts. They’ve grown quite used to sharing a room, or even just a bed, wherever they could find one. For instance, they’re currently sharing a guest room above the town bar. Not an awful crashpad, a couch, nice radio, their own bathroom.

It’s secluded from the rest of the bar too, giving them a bit of privacy. Sliding onto the bed, Wolfwood motions for Vash to join him. Surprise crosses his sharp features as the request is denied. Instead, Vash points himself towards the couch, offering a wave over his shoulder as he spins away. ‘Well that’s new…’

“What, suddenly too good to share a bed with me, Blondie?”

“Wh- what? No, not at all! I just… I figured you’d- en’chh-! ih’tshhie-! Excuse me, sorry. Where was I..? Oh right, m- maybe you’d want it to yourself this time and I don’t mind t- taking the couch.”

“‘Cause of your cold? I don’t care, now get over here.”

“Because of my- what? I’m… I’m not sick?”

Wolfwood doesn’t reply, instead he lets the uncomfortable silence settle over the room as he watches Vash. ‘Either he’s playing dumb, and doesn’t want to admit it, or the needle noggin really didn’t notice. Gotta know which before I make my move.’ Under the weight of tension starting to spread through the air, Vash gives a heavy sigh. The breath comes out shaky as his body vibrates, hands starting to rub his arms.

“You’re literally trembling. You tryna tell me that ain’t shivers?”

“It’s not! Well okay… I mean it is shivering, but not from sickness, it’s just cold in here, that’s all! ennchh-! Sorry, excuse me.”

The sneeze brings a fresh round of shudders as Wolfwood raises a brow at the display. ‘So denial it is then. If it was cold in ‘ere I’d’ve noticed long before him.’ A blessing almost slips out, but that’ll just lead to a new round of apologies. Right now it’s more important to get an admittance and go from there.

“Blondie, we’re in a fuckin’ desert. It’s not cold anywhere.”

“W- well they must have the air on! Or… or something… probably the air, b- because it’s so hot out, so they uh… they want it to be cool indoors.”

“Guess I should go ask ‘em to turn it off-”

“Hey- wait no, uh… it’s- it’s actually starting to uh… warm up..? D- don’t bother them. hk’ishiee-! Sorry. They let us stay here, I don’t- I mean we don’t want to be a burden on them-”

A hint of pride starts to break through Wolfwood’s mind as he grins. ‘And there it is. Gotcha.’ Vash has always been hesitant to be a burden. Not a horrible mindset to have for most people, ‘Hell, a few could use more of it’. The problem is that his definition of ‘burden’ includes things such as eating, sleeping, breathing, or simply existing when he’s not actively helping in some way.

Sickness was high on his list of ‘things that make me a burden on everyone I come in contact with’, despite Wolfwood’s constant reminders that he doesn’t mind. However, there is something above it, and that’s ‘bothering someone else’, especially when it’s for a made up reason. Given the choice between admitting sickness or waking the bartender to ask them to turn off the ‘air’ that doesn’t exist, well…

“-Okay fine. I might be… a little bit sick… but- hh’ishh’iee-! hehh- en’chhh-! heh’kshh’iew-!”

“Blessin’”

“Thank you, sorry, it’s really not that bad!”

“Then get in bed ‘fore it gets worse.”

“I uh… I really don’t think that’s-”

“I’ll even read from the book I’ve been finishin’. But that's a limited time offer, Blondie. Goin’ once, goin’ twice-”

Before he can start the next word, Vash hurls himself towards the bed, an excited set of vibrations starting to replace the shivers. Wolfwood chuckles, lifting the blanket from his legs to wrap it around Vash, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. In response the huddled form leans into his lap, head resting against his chest.

“Ready?”

“Yehh… yep!”

“Alright. The second reason he realized she was gone was from the smell. The air had lost a sweetness. One he’d grown so used to he hardly recognized it anymore. That is, until it was gone. -----”

Wolfwood continues reading, his focus being drawn away from the world once more. ‘Would’ve thought romance books were more Blondie’s thing, but… well… after he gave me that one about the garden love story… I guess I could understand the appeal… But only because Vash likes it when I read them. That’s all.’ No one else can hear him, but Wolfwood still feels the need to justify the surge of emotion starting to creep through his heart.

Maybe it was the fact Vash had given him them. Maybe it was the fact that blondie was gazing up with a hazy adoration as each word leaves his throat. Doesn’t really matter why. All that matters is how the words seem to glide off the page, through his deep voice to dance around their heads, playing out each scene as he reads them. This sensation is short lived though, as soon he feels himself snapping back to the bedroom where a soft sound has begun.

“hkk-! guhh…”

“Brushing the branches from his uh… from his face, he starts to cut through the dense forest.”

“heHh-! hhh… Snnff-”

“T- the branches, oh wait read that already, ah here we go. The dense forest. Eyes seem to be peering at him through the-”

“hahHhh- snff- hkIH-! hehh…”

“Through the, uh, the-”

“hhih-!”

“Christ, Blondie. Just sneeze already.”

Vash’s head pops out from its blanket cocoon against Wolfwood’s chest, a pink tint spread across his cheeks that has nothing to do with his cold. Bringing up a single finger to lightly rub his nose, Vash tries to offer a sincere smile. What instead crosses his face is a look that just screams itchy. Wolfwood feels a sympathy tickle through his own nose.

“Wh- what?”

“Your nose is literally twitching. You’re makin’ me itchy from the look of it. Jus’ sneeze, it’s okay. I’ll even pause my readin’.”

“I- I don’t… okay yehh… yes I do- I’m so sorry ehH-!”

“Don’t ‘pologize. Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of.”

“eH’tmmfshh-! hh’mmshhii-! hk’ishh’ieee-!”

He attempts to muffle the first two into his hand, the third escaping with a pitch that sounds incredibly unsatisfying. ‘No wonder he always has these long drawn out fits. Those sound like they do nothin’ to relieve the itch.’ Pausing his analysis, Wolfwood leans towards the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them into Vash’s unused hand.

A timid smile meets the gesture as Vash brings them to his nose, humming a sigh. The action seems to bring a new level of irritation, his breath snaring as the tissues are gripped tighter. It teases him for a minute, Wolfwood choking back a laugh at the whimper the tissues barely muffle. Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, a desperate “hnnchh-! ih’tishiee-! keshh’ii-!” break through. Wolfwood lets a knuckle crush his own nose, sympathy waves running through it again.

“Blessin’.”

“Thanks. Sor-”

“You’re only welcome if you don’t finish that apology.”

“-So are you gonna keep reading..? hih’ishhiee-! hk’ieshh-! Excuse me.”

“Blessin’s. Good save, Blondie. Remind me where we were?”

“Eyes in the- eh’kshhiee-! forest.”

“Blessin’, alright. So- wait… hold on a sec.”

Wolfwood lets the book rest on his knees, staring up through his sunglasses at the ceiling. Vash attempts to follow his gaze, but can’t notice anything worth staring at. Deciding to ask, Vash leans up to meet his eyes. Hardly a noise escapes before Wolfwood holds up a finger to silence him, tilting his sunglasses down and blinking through the brightness.

“huh’yIEZzshh’oo-! ai’GNZSHhh’oo-! Whew, that’s better.”

“Oh- bless you! Did- did I get-”

“No you didn' get me sick. My immune system ain’t nearly as fragile as yours.”

“Hey! Well then, is- hh’tieshh’ii-! Excuse me. Is something bothering you?”

“Nah, jus’ a tickle. Think it was ‘cause of the itchy look you were wearin’.”

“Oh, okay! S- sorry…”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Blondie. Now, back to the book?"

"Yes!"

"Eyes seem to be peering at him through the darkness. Watching his every step, daring him to come closer. Daring him to betray his heart alongside his kingdom. What did they know? Surely not his heart. That was something that couldn’t be known by anyone, not after her. ------.”

Wolfwood feels the words flow from him once more, almost before his eyes can trace their forms on the page. Figures begin their dance, chasing each other in beautiful patterns through the humid air. The only thing pulling him from the daydream that he finds himself in far too often with Vash is the sound of constant sniffles.

There is an outright refusal to address the noises, so instead Wolfwood continues reading, making it through another two chapters before giving in and setting the book back down. Vash looks up with an innocent gaze, absentmindedly rubbing his palm against his nose as another sniff breaks free.

“Baby, you’re all sniffly. You can blow your nose.”

The pet name gets the reaction it was meant to, Vash suddenly laser focused on Wolfwood’s every word. ‘Alright, easy now with this next part. He’s jus’ about there, gotta be delicate. Which… has never really been my strong suit.’ There’s a hint of unease beneath Vash’s smile, palm crushing against his face again.

“I know you’re sick, Vash. You told me that earlier. So you can drop the ruse.”

“We- well…”

“It’s just us.”

Vash flushes as Wolfwood passes him another handful of tissues, but brings them to his nose anyways. He turns away, ever mindful of others, and blows a couple times. The first seems unsuccessful, but by the third he manages to get a semblance of airflow through his sinuses.

Giving a heady sigh of relief, Vash turns back to Wolfwood, mouth open as if to form words. He never gets the chance, the next breath through his sensitive nasal passages bringing his hands up to his face by instinct. Wolfwood chuckles, letting a hand drop to rub his back through the fit.

“hH’ieshh’ie-! keshhh’iee-! hihh- tnnshhii-! Ih’tieshhiee-!”

“Blessin’s. Heh, you’re awfully adorable at times, Blondie.”

“I am no- heH’ishh-! hk’ishh-! tieshh’iee-! not!”

Humming out another laugh, Wolfwood brushes the hair from Vash’s warm skin, planting a kiss on his forehead. Vash responds with a sigh, airy and light, before he sinks back into Wolfwood’s chest, wrapping himself deeper into the blanket. A smirk crosses Wolfwood’s face, ‘Not cute, huh?’ before he lifts the book once more.

There, in the safety of Wolfwood’s embrace, Vash finds himself drifting off to sleep, figures dancing through his mind as the deep voice fades off into a peaceful darkness.

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the request!! Hopefully this is acceptable compensation for the wait~ haha #I'm over the burn out that I was feeling before so I'm hopeful I'll get quite a few done!#but i also don't wanna sink back into it- so it might be a touch slower than before~~!!!#but as always if there's something specific you wanna see #feel free to send in a request and I'll see what I can do!#long as you don't mind a bit of a wait~ I promise I love getting them!! sparks my mind hehe~#anyways- hope anyone who reads this enjoys some v/ashwood sweetness~#t/rigun s/tampede #v/ash #v/ashwood #w/olfwood #snz

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