#ask my muse: blizzard

[brumahielo-a]

// here’s the tags

[vampireimiko]

I’d love to see you write an x reader for Liu Kang, honestly idc what kind i just need more content of him cause he looks soo good in the game 😭🫶🏽

Storms

warnings, none !!

note, i ❤️ LIU KANG !!

"Thank goodness you're a fire lord. I thought I was gonna freeze out there." You shivered, huddled up close to Liu Kang as a blizzard made it's rounds. The warmth of his embrace provided a comforting contrast to the icy winds outside.

As you both cuddled in the cozy space, Liu Kang chuckled, the flames in the fireplace flickering in response. "Well, I can't let my favorite person turn into an icicle, can I?" he teased, pulling you even closer.

The blizzard's howls seemed distant as the two of you lost yourselves in the cocoon of shared warmth. Liu Kang's fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, creating a soothing rhythm. After a moment, you broke the soothing silence, after only hearing the snowflakes tapping against the window.

"You couldn't erase natural disasters from this timeline?" You teased giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

"I do suppose I could've. However the weather was the last thing on my mind, my love." He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes mirrored the coziness of your shared sanctuary. Liu Kang had so much love in his eyes for you. He's made sure on various occasions to tell you that his eyes are for you and you only. He cherished you.

"Imagine, just the two of us, facing the storm together," he mused, his gaze filled with a future painted with love. "What do you see in our future, my dear?" he asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"You tell me, your the time god," You smiled at him, just making a small joke. "I don't really know what I see in our future. All I can hope is that we're still together."

Liu Kang's eyes softened as he listened to your words. His fingers continued their gentle dance on your back, creating a reassuring cadence. "Time may be within my grasp, but the future is a canvas we paint together," he replied, his voice carrying a warmth that mirrored the flames dancing in the fireplace.

"I see a future where every storm we face, we face it together," he began, his gaze locked with yours. "A future filled with shared laughter, quiet moments like these, and a love that transcends the timelines."

"And perhaps," he added, a playful glint in his eye, "a future where we find joy in erasing the storms and creating moments of warmth, just like this one."

As the blizzard raged outside, the warmth in your shared gaze painted a future that felt not only timeless but filled with the enduring flame of love.

𝐥𝐢𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐎 𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐔 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 😭🫶🏾 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[softpascalito]

Worth crossing a blizzard for - Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: During shooting for The Last of Us, a snowstorm hits Canada, essentially forcing Pedro to take the day off. Turns out its not as bad as he thinks.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader WC: 1600 Tags/Warnings: MDNI, RPF, Real-Person-Fiction, Non-Explicit Sex, showering together, Gender-neutral Reader, Snow, blizzard, Crew Reader, The Last of Us Shooting, Canada, Kissing, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Pedro Pascal, Healthy Relationships, Secret Relationship Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: i haven't written pedro in sooo long, i miss him. needless to say, this is the lil version i created of him in my head and not necesarily an accurate representation of his actual personality <3 also, this is another lil entry for stephs winter writing challenge with the trope warmth, i highly recommend checking the entire list if youre interested :) (@toomanystoriessolittletime)

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It starts with a light snowfall, little white particles floating through the air, rushing past the car as he drives back from set and a small sigh escapes his lips. It's been snowing on and off for weeks, usually meaning an earlier calltime for everyone, to make sure the locations can be cleared from the thin layer of snow if needed.

The wind has picked up by the time Pedro reaches the apartment that has been his home for the last few weeks and when he steps out of the shower half an hour later, the light snowfall has developed into a full-on blizzard, complete with cars honking in the streets below and his phone vibrating angrily, demanding attention. A rushed glance as he gets dressed confirms his suspicions. There's several warnings of severe weather, most of them due to hit tonight.

A gentle knock on the front door lets the man whip around and a small frown builds on his forehead as he crosses the hallway, taking a quick glance through the peephole. He practically yanks the door open.

You have your coat wrapped tightly around yourself, a knitted hat drawn down to your ears and a scarf wrapped around your neck. The two latter are practically soaked, decorated with little white crystals all over that are beginning to melt in the slightly warmer air of the hallway and dripping down onto the door mat.

Pedro stays still for a moment, taking in your form in front of him, before his brain registers what's going on. He reaches out, pulling you into the apartment, “What the hell were you thinking?”

The door closes behind you and the frown that decorated Pedros face a moment ago is now appearing on yours, “I- What?” For a split second you wonder if he's mad. He rarely gets a day off and even when he does, he usually spends it doing something, unable to just sit and relax, even for a little while. Maybe he's made plans for tonight and you've just crashed them.

“You can't be walking around in a blizzard like this, look at yourself,” he tuts, helping you take your wet coat off along with the hat and scarf and maneuvering them into the bathroom to hang them up to dry. You take your boots off carefully, gaze never leaving the man in front of you, “It's barely a twenty minute walk.”

“You're telling me you didn't even get a taxi?” He asks as he returns to the hallway and watches you put your shoes onto a small shoe tray.

“Does it look like I got a taxi?” You shoot back, getting a little irritated with how concerned he is. Immediately, Pedros gaze softens a bit and a small grumble escapes his throat as he takes a step forward, bringing his fingers up to your hair to carefully pick a snowflake out of it.

It melts between his fingers.

“No, you don't,” he muses, smiling a little sheepishly. “You could've called me. I would've picked you up.” You can't help but chuckle a little at that, “I did call you. You didn't pick up. The phone, I mean.” He stares at you for a moment, then back at his phone that has at least a dozen unread messages, then back to you, “Fuck, I- I was taking a shower, guess I didn’t hear-”

“It's fine,” you promise gently, standing on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on his cheek. Pedro sighs a little, taking in the way you’re looking at him and eventually nodding as he leads you further into the small apartment. It's spacious for one person but cozy for two, production of course not having calculated that you would be here too. You tried to stick to only sleeping over on weekends for a while, arguing that Pedro needed his rest and a quiet environment to go over his lines. He argued back that he slept a lot better with you beside him.

“You want a coffee?” He offers and you nod yes, following him to the open kitchen and hopping onto the counter as he grabs a mug for you.

“So you haven't read it yet?” You ask, rubbing your hands together in an effort to warm them up. “Read what?” His back is to you, the sound of the coffee machine starting almost drowning out his words. 

“Shoot is canceled for tomorrow. Probably until next week.”

Something about your tone makes him turn around to face you. He's in front of you a second later, hands resting on your waist as he studies your face, “And you're not happy about that?”

“Why would I? It sets us back at least two days and were already behind, at this rate reshoots-”

Pedro hums a little and squeezes your waist, causing you to fall quiet.

“I don't like it either but-”

You cut him off before you can stop yourself, shaking your head as you speak and lowering your gaze towards the floor, “It's just really bad timing and I have so much to do already and-”

“Hey, look at me.”

He squeezes again, a little harder this time, and one hand comes up to nudge your chin until you're looking right at him. You find soft brown eyes, the little patch in his beard you like so much and hair that's still a little damp from showering.

“It's snow. You can't do anything about snow.”

You let your head fall forward again, letting out a small sigh, “Yeah, I know.” Pedro gently brings his arms around you, holding you close for a moment. The coffee machine beeps, signaling that it's done. But he doesn't let go yet, rubbing your back a little instead.

“The way I see it,” he starts. “We may as well enjoy our night in. Even if it wasn't exactly planned. Plus, there's no way in hell I'll let you go back out there anyway.”

He does have a point. And a night off, especially a night off for both of you, doesn't sound too bad, even if it's constricted to the small apartment you're sitting in.

As soon as your coffee is empty and a few urgent messages are replied to, Pedro insists on a shower to warm you up. You're halfway to the bathroom before you turn around with a small smile on your face, “You're gonna let me shower alone?”

“I just showered,” Pedro replies almost automatically, putting your mug away. Then, he catches the small twinkle in your eye.

“You just showered,” you repeat, the smile still decorating your face and Pedro nods a few times before getting into motion.

“I guess I could do with another one.”

For once, there's no rush. You take your time, with the shower and everything that it includes. You spend what feels like a solid five minutes kissing afterwards, already scrubbed clean and so, so content. The air is steamy when you step out of the shower and Pedro really does treat you to the full experience, insisting on applying your lotion for you.

You hum contently as he gently massages it into your back, your muscles tingling with relief. He chuckles softly behind you, “Feeling a little warmed up already?”

“More than a little. Don't know how you do it.”

You lightly slap his ass on the way to the bedroom.

After securing your favorite sweater of his and some sweatpants, you find yourself in the kitchen again, rummaging through the cupboards to figure out what to cook up with the scarce ingredients available. You both usually eat on location or get some takeout on the way home, not to speak of the lack of cooking skill you both possess.

It ends up being pasta with some leftover greens and tomatoes and for once, you could swear it tastes ten times better than whatever takeout you could've gotten. You're cuddled up on the couch, staring out into the dark, gusts of snow still blowing past the window. The traffic jams have calmed down, the people returned to their houses to find shelter from the cold. Only a few lost ones are still wandering around, no doubt with a goal that justifies a walk through the conditions. You understand them.

Pedro watches a man disappear around the corner and swallows his mouthful of pasta, “Are you sure you didn't catch a cold?”

You smile weakly, “ Even if I did, it would be worth it. I'd trade a cold for a night off with you. You know that.” He chuckles a little, tilting his head slightly, “Just saying, it may be a little on the nose for both of us to get sick at the same time.”

You raise a brow as you finish your plate and gently put it down before cuddling into Pedro’s side, drawing your legs up onto the couch, “There's a blizzard. It's not that on the nose.”

The snowflakes landing on the window stay there for a few moments, glistening in the dim light from inside the apartment before the warmth seems to reach through the glass. One by one, they turn into small drops of water.

He considers your words for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” His arm wraps around you, pulling you in a little more as you rest your head against his shoulder. He leans down to plant a small kiss on your head and you hum contently, smiling to yourself.

The snowflakes melt on the window pane. You melt in Pedros arms.

Your voice is only a mumble.

“Besides- you can't do anything about snow.”

notes: hey babes! im considering a second part to this so let me know if that's something you'd like <3

[awkwardgtace]

Warm Proposal

What's this? Day 9 Warmth, a little late but still on time. I had like 5 ideas none worked how I wanted so I mused a little. I hope you enjoy

Warm Proposal

It’s been years that I’ve known you. Since your world shattering steps threw me off my feet. Since the moment you saw me and crouched to see me better. You were a force of nature. I thought I'd made you up.

I’d been trapped by that blizzard. Lost and homeless, but you found me. Set me free. Took pity on my poor self and offered me your gloved hand as a place to go. I readily climbed on. Any fate you gave was better than dying in the cold.

You lifted me with two fingers. Dangled me over your hand. I thought you had regretted the kindness. Instead you pulled your glove off with your teeth. Set me on your bare palm. The warmth of your skin was a blessing on my frozen skin. A blessing I didn’t think I deserved, but accepted nonetheless.

The cloth of the glove was a shock when you pulled it over me. I almost asked you to put me down, but your fingers curled over me. Your gentle words offered safety. A place to call home. I cried. No one had been that kind in far too long.

Your steps rocked me. The pulse beneath your skin was a lullaby. I fell asleep quickly. You kept waking me up. I thought it was cruel at first. Once I realized you were keeping me alive, I thanked you. At least I did in my mind. If I never have, thank you for keeping me awake that night.

The warmth of your home bled through your glove. The door slammed behind you after you opened it. I realized I could still die. Some giants were cruel. I thought, at least I’d die warm.

You walked around with me in your hand. Water ran. A kettle screamed. Your clothes scrunched as you walked. Your steps had softened. I assumed your shoes were off.

It felt too soon when your fingers poked into the glove. Pulled me out of the warmth. The air felt cold without your skin. You promised it would be only for a few seconds. I whined.

I thought you lied to me. Until you put me back on your palm. The warmth had lessened. It was better than the air. I curled into your skin. You curled your fingers over me.

Before you, I thought I’d hate being held. It would be painful and cruel. I’d be nearly crushed or made sick. You were gentle and moved slowly. The opposite of my assumptions.

I yelped when you squeezed me a little. It made you laugh. I realized then that I liked your laugh. Your steps started again. It was the perfect thing to push me to sleep. You squeezed me periodically. I felt like a stress toy. With the warmth you offered I didn’t mind.

All this time, I’ve never known why you saved me that night. What made you curl up on your bed with a human whose name you didn’t even know. I’ve had my guesses, but a part of me knows it doesn’t matter. You saved me that night.

It’s been a mystery why you heard my story the next day. I couldn’t understand why you gave me a place to stay as I got back on my feet. The trust you placed in me shattered any part of me that could break it.

You gave me the chance I needed. The one no one else believed I deserved. That kindness did more than the warmth of your body that night. That kindness changed my life.

It’s why I’m here today, with you. I’ve known you for years. I’ve loved you for years. I’ll love you for all the years I have left. With that said, with the memories I’ll never let go of, would you do me the greatest honor of my life? Would you, my love, my darling, my savior, my best friend, my second chance, marry me?

“Yes!”

[angelprompts]

welcome to the holiday season!   ♡   feel free to change anything as needed.  happy writing ᵔᴗᵔ

"a snowball fight? seriously  -  are we twelve?”

“there’s a blizzard outside; i think you should stay here until it passes.”

“what’s on your wishlist this year?”

“come on! let’s cross something off of the winter bucket list. it can be anything you want.”

“someone gave me literal coal..?”

“do you want to go look at the lights and decorations with me?”

“i got us matching ugly christmas sweaters!”

“you don’t expect me to wear this ugly christmas sweater out, right..?”

“i hate this time of the year.”

“i’ve never made this recipe before. can you try it and let me know what you think?”

“do you have any holiday traditions?”

“are you cold? here  -  take my jacket.”

“will you please go to my parents’ dinner and pretend to be my partner for the evening? i don’t know how much more i can take of them asking about my relationship status.”

“i think i waited to long to do my gift shopping again this year.”

“i can’t keep it a secret anymore! i have to tell you what i got you, okay?—”

“you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“i spiked the egg nog.”

action prompts:

include  ‘⮀’  to reverse who does the action

[ catch ]  for the sender to catch the receiver when they fall while ice skating

[ gingerbread ]  for our muses to build a gingerbread house together

[ homemade ]  for the sender to give the receiver a homemade gift (bonus if you specify what it is)

[ peak ]  for the receiver to catch the sender trying to peak at their gift(s)

[ mistletoe ]  for our muses to realize they’re standing under a mistletoe together

[ shopping ]  for our muses to go gift shopping together

[ ski resort ]  for our muses to take a trip to a ski resort

[ my angel ]  for the sender’s muse to put a picture of the receiver on top of their tree instead of a star / angel

[ snowball fight ]  for the sender to throw a snowball at the receiver and initiate a snowball fight

[ cancelled ]  for our muses’ flight to get cancelled due to the poor weather conditions and now have to entertain themselves while they wait

[ presents ]  for our muses to exchange and open presents

[ blanket ]  for the sender to wrap the receiver in a big, warm blanket

[ party ]  for our muses to attend a holiday party together

[ mess ]  for the sender to trip and accidentally spill egg nog on the receiver

[thana-topsy]

Hey so no pressure whatsoever to answer this sleep-deprived ask but I have (once again!!) been reading Breathing Water for that Comfort Fic dopamine, and I realised that to travel from Winterhold to the Nightgate Inn they would have to pass through my absolute favourite location, the Wayward Pass shrine!

It's an interesting little shrine to Arkay and I was wondering what kind of reaction you think Teldryn and Neloth would have had to it? I can imagine of course as more daedra-leaning worshippers they might not look twice but it's always where I take my OCs and wondered if you had any thoughts

Hope life's treating you kindly <3

Thank you SO much for this lovely ask and this interesting prompt! Idk if you meant it as a writing prompt, but that's where I took it. (I love that BW is a comfort fic for you, that is such a high compliment). But anyhoo, I even fired up Skyrim to go wandering around the freezing north to get a feel for the area. So here you go! Please enjoy a retroactive cut scene of this leg of Neloth and Teldryn's journey.

---

“Admit it, we’re lost.”

“We most certainly are not.” Neloth cast a guidance spell, the snaking purple light fettering out a few feet ahead of them. He dropped the charge and pursed his lips. A sweeping gust of wind rolled up the mountainside from the sea and nearly pushed him over, adding insult to injury. 

“I told you to buy a damn map from the innkeeper!” Teldryn said, holding a fireball in his palms for warmth. “But oh no, of course the Great and Powerful Master of House Telvanni is beyond something as tried and true as cartography.”

“Will you shut it,” Neloth snapped. “I need to concentrate.” The cold was getting to him—a deep, bone-numbing cold unlike anything he’d ever felt—creeping death at its worst. He cast a quick flare of his warming spell, reserving his magicka while briefly returning feeling to his toes and fingertips.

“That looks like a pass over the mountain,” Teldryn said, his voice weak beneath the howl of the wind.

Neloth squinted through the snow. “Where?” 

“Up there, look where I’m pointing.”

Neloth stepped beside him to follow the line of Teldryn’s finger. Sure enough, there appeared to be a gap in the mountain’s sheer rock face. 

“If we hike all the way up there and it’s a dead end, then I’m–”

“Yes, yes,” Teldryn interrupted, waving him away as he began to trudge forward through the deepening snow drifts. “You can eat me first when we run out of food.” 

“Gallows humor!” Neloth called after him with a humorless laugh. “At a time like this?” When no response came, he began to follow silently in the path Teldryn had carved through the snow.

It took them an inordinate amount of time to reach the top of the mountain, battling against the growing blizzard the entire way. By the time they reached the pass, Neloth had moved beyond the point of shivering, frozen to his core. They paused in the shallow grotto, panting and regaining some of their warmth. 

“Oh,” Teldryn said with quiet surprise, prompting Neloth to look up. 

Seemingly cut into the rock, partially hidden from the elements, a single skeleton lay in front of a shrine along a stone slab, carefully arranged, accompanied by various offerings—a longsword, armor, dried herbs, bits of gold and jewelry. 

“It’s a shrine,” Teldryn said. 

“Obviously.” 

“To Arkary, it looks like.” 

“Which one is that?” Neloth asked, and received a withering look from Teldryn in response. 

“You’re joking.” 

“Partially, yes,” Neloth said with a twitch of his lip. “God of cycles and death and what-have-you. I’m not that out of touch, Teldryn, please. Have a little faith.”

“Faith, right,” Teldryn grumbled. He brushed some of the snow off the statue at the center of the altar, then picked up one of the pendants that lay by the skeleton. “They say a body that’s received the proper blessings of Arkay is immune to necromancy,” he mused to no one in particular. “Seems useful, honestly.”

Neloth pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. Yes, he’d heard such things, but never had he been presented with the opportunity to test the theory. Purple light swirled into his palm, a micro-rift into the realms of Oblivion, and with a small push—subtle enough that Teldryn wouldn’t immediately notice—he directed the rift into the skeleton that lay across the altar.

The rejection was strong and immediate, like a door slamming shut inside of Neloth’s head, followed by a wave of nausea that he only barely managed to swallow down. He dropped the spell and turned to brace himself against the opposite wall, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Teldryn set the amulet down then turned slowly towards him, expression hidden behind his chitin helmet and goggles. “Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did.”       

“The opportunity for an experiment presented itself,” Neloth argued through the taste of rising bile in the back of his throat. “All in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“And did you come to a conclusion?” 

There was smugness there that Neloth didn’t appreciate one bit. He hoped his scowl conveyed as much. “Let’s just keep moving. At this rate we’ll be corpses ourselves, and I don’t see a priest of Arkay anywhere to lend a helping hand.”

“Whatever you say,” Teldryn said, still far too smug. “Lead on.”

--

Shoutout to @paraparadigm for the "door slamming shut" imagery inspiration from her fic "Always Read the Fine Print".

[pink-and-pearls]

Flowers Stand Tall and Proud| Madara x Fem! Reader

Description: Flowers stand tall and proud even after the greatest storms. (Angst | Soft)

Disclaimer: Mention of anxiety and trauma and other serious and mature content.

PS: English isn't my first language. There might be some mistakes and I apologize in advance for them : )

''You like flowers, don't you?'' he said in his baritone voice.

You joined your lover for a morning walk and you had specifically worn a white kimono adorned with meticulous patterns of flowers, making your very move elegant and gracious. You took a moment to softly smile at him, you look at his form, his handsome face that instantly made you feel at ease, his hands and arms that held you close and envelop you with his warmth. And his legs and feet that would run miles and miles to meet you at the other end.

"I do'' you responded in a soft tone. ''I like them because we are alike.''

''Beautiful and delicate?'' he said a grin plastered on his face. You chuckled then turned to look at him and he added ''Or perhaps you like them because they symbolize something?''

"They do symbolize something," you said with a smile, "but I see it differently." He raised an eyebrow as he awaited your clarifications. He was aware of your keen perception and your attention to even the smallest details. Nothing you do is mindless because you always give each little thing—every second, every breath—thought. He found listening to you refreshing and comforting, and he appreciated how simple yet smart the remarks were. And this time was no exception; he was eager to hear your thoughts.

''I don't like them because yellow sunflowers represent friendship or black roses represent a strong and eternal love. I like them because they are strong and resilient.''

''Resilient'', the words resonated in his head.

''You see people wouldn't care less if flowers went through hell and back, they simply care that they're pretty,'' you said your tone soft yet serious. ''While we run and sprint to our homes the second we feel a raindrop his our skin, flowers stand tall and proud. They withstand the greatest storms, and the next day they radiate and glow as if nothing happened.''

As he lowers his gaze to meet your eyes, he muses over what may have occurred and how often you appeared to be fine as everything around you fell apart—and how often he wasn't there to wipe away your tears. He studied you with his dark eyes seeking the depths of yours after thinking about the analogy you used. As he stepped nearer, he caressed your cheeks and asked, "What has happened to my lovely flower?" His tone became deeper and huskier, warmer yet more agonizing. "Tell me...tell me about each time I wasn't there to shield you from the blizzard of life," he said. 

Your eyes widened at the way his voice conveyed how torturous it was to hear you discuss such frightening occurrences. You are his woman, his love, his light and as he often reminded you during intimate nights of passion and vulnerability "You make life worth living."

 You have experienced grief, trauma, anxiety, dread, pain, and suffering repeatedly over the course of days, weeks, months, and years. You sometimes wish life would give you a break, but you're still standing, though, and you're prepared for whatever tomorrow might bring. ''You’ve endured a lot too. You walk proudly and surely even if…even if yesterday’s storm pushed you on your knees, you’re quick to get back on your feet. You are a flower too Madara,'' you said to him before your lips curved in a small smile.

''Not a beautiful one,’' he sneered. You placed your hands on his chest and pulled him closer, your tone above a whisper yet very firm ''Do not say such things'' your lips brushing against his. He listened intently, surprised at your serious tone and your touch solid as if it was a threat as if you wanted to start a fight, but it was a caring gesture. One telling him, that if he didn't believe in himself then you believed in him. If he dared to give up you'd be there to put him back on track and if darkness were to spread in his heart, you’d eradicate it and plant instead seeds of hope.

''You do not get to say things like that. Flowers are beautiful, but it's a shame that they'll never realize how pretty they are. Only the others get to see their exquisite beauty,'' you added. ''I am telling you, you are beautiful.'' His eyes softened, and a shy smile formed on his lips feeling his heart hammer in his chest. He then placed his hands on your hips pulling you closer, his lips moulded into yours for a rough and deep kiss. A moment of gentleness and raw feelings.

"No matter what, she always finds a way to make things pleasant," he thought to himself. He held you close fearing that if he let go, you'd disappear. He never comprehended how such a pure soul as yours has decided to fall in love with a soul like his. Every time he laid his eyes on you it felt as if all the problems of the world has vanished and as if all the worries have evaporated. He needed you, and he jealously withheld you to himself, never wanting you to be with someone but him.

"You’re my flower and I am your gardener," Madara said voice low and husky "You’re the flower I pick delicately, and the flower I keep so selfishly to my own. The flower I’d water carefully every day, the flower I’d watch intently blossom into a radiant one."

"We are to care and to be cared for, we are flowers, we are gardeners. We are resilient and we are beautiful," she said cupping his cheeks.

"We stand tall and we stand proud," Madara said.

Because in truth it isn’t the pain that matters, it isn't crushed pieces of petals left after the flower got stepped on, it isn’t the cold snow that suffocates them, it’s the fact that next year…they’ll thrive again and they’ll come in force filling the field in a never-ending line of glory.

[alittledizzy]

I don’t use my tumblr publicly, hence the anon, but I saw your fic amnesty post and felt like it was posted just for me! I posted a Dan and Phil fic a couple of weeks ago, and I kept having this quiet little hope that maybe you’d venture back to the d&p tag on ao3 and read it, just bc it’d be such an honor. You have always been one of my favorite voices in the d&p fandom. We interacted a bit when I used to be active on the forums, I adore your commentary, and I am such a fan of your fic writing. The characterization is consistently exquisite, and you always capture this perfect balance of grounded realism, lack of pretension, and the full miraculous magnitude of their connection through tiny moments.

ANYWAY, I posted a fic for the first time in over ten years. It starts with a fair bit of inner monologuing and a bit of a tropey device, but I promise it picks up. I’m very proud of it, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it. Since you can’t add links to anon asks, I must resort to this -

As He Goes, So I Go by cloej88

Rating: E

Word count: 25,272

Link that isn’t an actual link: archiveofourown . org/ series /4104049

Summary: It’s November of 2015, and Dan and Phil have just finished their UK leg of The Amazing Tour Is Not on Fire. They’ve sworn off the romantic side of their relationship in order to protect the rest of this life they’ve built. However, with all of the close proximity of touring, their connection feels headier and more charged than ever. As soon as the UK tour ends, they fly to the US for a quick book-signing trip, but they become snowed in by a blizzard in Chicago. In the solitude of their shared hotel room, can they fumble their way back to one another?

Featuring: Pining, lots of fluff, the TATINOF UK afterparty in all its glory, an arcade bar in snowy Chicago, a NYTimes How to Fall in Love quiz, lots of introspective musing about how much these idiots adore one another, and some well-earned smut.

holy shit thank you for sending me this because i am OBSESSED with this fic now

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Blacklist

Summary: The coldest commander in the GAR meets a different kind of match when he makes an unscheduled visit to Daria’s office.

Commander Neyo vs. ofc: Daria Trace, featuring @littlemissmanga ofc: Yen (hope I got her lines just right🥰)

Rating: T

Word count: 1080

“I think I’d live here, if I wouldn’t drink enough caf to power an ion cannon,” Daria mused, as the barista passed cups of iced caf to her and Yen. She thanked the young woman and dropped credits in the tip jar before the pair headed to their favorite bench to people watch.

“You already do that. Besides when are you ever home?” Yen asked with a raised brow.

Daria was saved from answering when her comm beeped.

“Trace,” she answered smoothly.

“Daria,” Blizzard said nervously once the matchmaker answered her comm.

“Hi, Blizzard…is everything alright?” Daria asked, looking up at Yen with a puzzled expression.

“No, not at all. Commander Neyo is here again.”

Daria released a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her weary soul.

“Let me guess, the woman I set him up with doesn’t follow orders?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink.

Yen’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. Neyo was their most difficult client. He’d been on more dates than anyone, and despite Daria’s preternatural ability to put the right people together, she remained unsuccessful with the commander.

“He didn’t say. He barged in, and now he’s camping out in your office. Please come back. He’s so scary,” Blizzard whispered despite the fact that his desk was nowhere near Daria’s office where the commander waited for her.

“I’m on my way, love. If he gets fussy with you, just call Fox or Thorn,” she instructed.

“I’m going to call them now, so they’re in the area at least,” he replied.

“Ok, I’ll be there soon.”

As she ended the call, she looked up at Yen. The exhaustion and irritation evident in the set of her lips, and the quirk of her eyebrow.

“How many dates has it been?” Yen asked, eyes narrowed as she thought of how many times Neyo had been to the office to monopolize Daria’s time.

“To quote our darling, Blizz, ‘too kriffing many’,” Daria said, shaking her head.

“You’re going to have to swallow your pride on this one.”

“He’s going to ruin my track record.”

“That’s better than his unscheduled visits surely,” Yen offered, as the two of them took off for the office.

“I guess it is, I just,” Daria began before she remembered how much of a migraine Neyo had been.

She hadn’t even understood his presence in her office when he’d come in to build his profile. Unlike his brothers, Neyo seemed to just want a soldier that wasn’t related to him. Unfortunately, that meant his only viable matches were strong-willed people, that didn’t care about his rank or his authority. He’d barged into her office to complain about the ‘battalion of brats’ she’d set him up with, and demanded she find someone respectful.

Daria had leveled him with a look before wading back into the ever evaporating pool of matches.

“You know what? He has this coming. It’s not me, or our system. It’s him,” she said, taking an aggressive sip of her drink.

“There’s my girl,” Yen said with a grin.

As the pair of women arrived at the office they were pleased to see Fox waiting just outside.

“Blizzard called and said you may need assistance escorting someone off of the premises,” Fox said, folding his arms. “Who is it?”

“Commander Neyo,” Daria said, eyes locked onto Fox’s visor.

Fox sighed in irritation. “I should have known. Alright, I’ll be here when you need me.”

“Thank you, Fox,” Daria replied, as they entered the lobby.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” Blizzard hissed. “He’s been out here twice to ask where you are.”

“I’ll handle it from here,” Daria assured him, waltzing back to her office.

“Commander Neyo, you’re in my office during my lunch break again.” She took her seat behind the desk, resting her arms on the surface and clasping her hands together.

“Look, Ms. Trace, despite your reputation, you’ve been unsuccessful in finding what I’m looking for,” Neyo said, sitting back in his chair, and narrowing his eyes at Daria.

“You’ve rejected the last 5 matches for,” Daria paused as she brought up his file. “Ah, here we go. Insubordination, too affectionate, a clear disregard for authority, disrespect, and today’s lucky lady: frivolous hobbies?”

“Some foolishness with stuffed animals,” Neyo supplied. “I need someone obedient, self-sufficient, respectful, with the approved list of hobbies I sent to you yesterday.”

Daria looked at him, eyes reading his face like a book.

“No.”

“Excuse me.”

“Is this your first time hearing the word? I said no,” Daria repeated. “You don’t want a partner; you want a subordinate you can sleep with. That’s not why we’re here.”

“You had better watch your tone, Trace,” Neyo said, voice dropping to a low pitch, meant to intimidate.

“The only thing I’ll be watching is you leaving my office. I’m exercising clause 15c of our terms and conditions.” Daria pulled up the documents on her datapad, and passed it to the commander, clearing her throat before reciting the clause in question. “Owing to the fact that matchmaking is not an exact science, and therefore cannot be guaranteed, our matchmakers, that’s me, reserve the right to terminate the services of any client, that’s you, should it become clear our matchmakers are unable to assist the client in acquiring a successful match.”

Neyo stared at the datapad a moment, before looking up to meet Daria’s eyes. The glint in his brown eyes was downright dangerous, but Daria had gone toe to toe with politicians, the rich, and the entitled of every species. There was nothing but ice in her veins when a man challenged her.

“I’ve done all I can do for you, and I do not believe a continued professional relationship is in our best interest. Now would you like to show yourself out, or would you prefer an escort from Commander Fox?”

Once it became clear that Daria was not some shiny, who would roll over for him, Neyo decided to snatch up what was left of his dignity and vacate the premises. As the disgruntled commander’s steps faded down the corridor, Daria released a shaky breath, and relaxed into her office chair.

Blizzard’s head popped around the corner. “Absolute. Kriffing. Legend. I’m telling all the boys.”

Daria looked up at him with a grin, and took a sip of her watered down caf. “Ugh, non-profit or not, he owes me an iced caf.”

Blizzard’s laugh could be heard all the way back to his desk.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Week 1 - The Artist and the Muse

***

You hide your eyes behind the shades Your stroke can make the climate change Your art should see the light of day (you and me a masterpiece)

You never let your colors show Lose your face when we get close I’ve seen you paint, nobody knows (you and me a masterpiece)

You’ve got an artist inside you Come drown in my navy blue Tonight let the artist inside me be you

Baby paint me like a canvas – don’t mind You’re dripping colors on the mattress tonight Dip your brush into the pallet, all mine Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Put your body where my heart is My love I’m the muse and you’re the artist Don’t stop Gotta finish what you started Oh, god Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

You make me Scream in Starry Nights The golden kiss, mysterious smile You never let the paint run dry (you and me a masterpiece)

I’m standing pose for your design Your fingertips, they reach for mine Let’s make a mess and cross the line (you and me a masterpiece)

You've got an artist inside you Come drown in my navy blue Tonight let the artist inside me be you

Baby paint me like a canvas – don’t mind You’re dripping colors on the mattress tonight Dip your brush into the pallet, all mine Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Put your body where my heart is My love I’m the muse and you’re the artist Don’t stop Gotta finish what you started Oh, god Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Baby paint me like a canvas You’re dripping colors on the mattress Drip your brush into the pallet And make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Baby, paint me like a canvas – don’t mind You’re dripping colors on the mattress tonight Dip your brush into the palette, all mine Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

Put your body where my heart is My love I’m the muse and you’re the artist Don’t stop Gotta finish what you started Oh, god Make the shades of you and me a masterpiece

***

People always ask her at art shows where she gets her inspiration. Come spring, the assortment of pieces she's pumped out during the darker months never fails to amaze.

Streetlights shining through blizzard flurries. Ice on early April buds. Peach, rose, and lavender sunsets through snow-filled clouds. White-topped pine forests so mesmerizing that you can practically feel the stillness and silence of the winter.

Every time, Rapunzel smiles mysteriously and cites another artist.

"He's...underappreciated. His work hasn't ever had its day in the sun. But I've seen the best of it."

She always straightens proudly at the last part. And her customers can't help but be jealous that she gets to see this mysterious obscure talent apparently hidden from the rest of the world.

It has to be hidden, or else Rapunzel's work wouldn't be so uniquely spectacular. More people would paint even the coldest and bleakest of winter nights--even with no holiday lights to shine through the darkness.

"What's their name?" people always ask, hoping to investigate the esoteric artist themselves.

"Jack Frost."

And they laugh, because they think she's just being poetic. Taking inspiration from the fabled creator of ice patterns on morning windows and vast, quiet snowscapes.

If only they could see the white-haired boy just above them, perched on a nearby lamppost and chuckling to himself. Invisible to all the world except the artists who see beauty in his work.

***

HIHI I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE

Heh, you didn't really think I'd forgotten Jackunzel month, did you??? Had a lot on my plate these last couple months but by GOD am I gonna pull through for my children!!! I've been making them November content for 3 years straight and I ain't about to stop now!!!

Anyways this song popped up on my spotify and I was like oh huh. Yeah that's a Jackunzel song all right. And then this happened!

I feel like it could be from both of their POVs, btw! Like Rapunzel is the one we think of as the artist, but Jack kinda is, too--just look what he can do with snow and frost! Art that never sees the light of day indeed ;_____; And "your stroke can make the climate change" like??? Literally Jack??? Also love the idea of him doing little frost designs on her skin and clothes ;_____; Just little reminders of her mans she can carry around for a while before they melt! Especially in the summertime, when she could really use it!!!

But "come drown in my navy blue" is very Jack @ Rapunzel, too. And Punz definitely has a golden kiss and mysterious smile akdjsuilkh

Depending on how you interpret these two and their relationship, you can pretend some of the, er...spicier implications of this song are a metaphor for like. Deep conversations and enthusiastic cuddling if you like XD

Can you imagine Rapunzel actually painting in her bed and getting acrylic all over her blankets and insisting it gives them character??? Shit would be hilarious. Jack would also thoroughly approve of the chaotic and general unhinged nature of it all ajshdksgd

I missed them!!! God, it's been too long!!!

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

[pjsk-writin]

Let's continue my 'taking care of Kanade' asks! This time, I want just a fluffy, cozy and soft Honakana fic~! Have fun with this, and feel free to make it whatever u want! >^<

HONAKANA REALNESS !!!! im so excited for this one and i hope you like this !!!! it's suuuuper cheesy but whatever <3

♡ WARMTH - Kanade Yoisaki x Honami Mochizuki

If you asked Kanade to compare Honami to anything in the world, she'd compare her to the warmth of a fireplace on a cold day.

"Ah, Kanade, is that okay? Do you need more blankets?" Honami's voice was soft as always, and Kanade simply shook her head, watching quietly from her cozy corner.

It was rare for blizzards to be this strong, and Honami happened to be at Kanade's house when it struck. They were doing what they could with no fireplace, but Kanade felt warmth in Honami's presence.

"Let me make some soup too, we wouldn't want to get sick..." Honami was buzzing around the kitchen, trying to prepare soup as best she could

Kanade almost wanted to protest, to ask her to put the pot down and join her in the blanket huddle she had made, but the thought of soup was too good to deny

So, she settled back, allowing herself to forget about everything plaguing her mind and simply enjoy the comfort of Honami

Soon enough, Honami was done with the soup, and she brought it over to the huddle of blankets Kanade was in, a warm smile on her lips

It was unfair how warm she was, Kanade mused to herself as she took a bowl of soup from her girlfriend's hands, quietly thanking her before drinking from the bowl

Honami managed to worm her way into the blanket huddle that Kanade made, her arms wrapping around the shorter of the pair. She hugged her close, sharing a comforting smile

"Is the soup good?" Honami asked softly, and Kanade nodded, looking up at the other before leaning back into her embrace, face flushed for reasons other than the cold

"It is..." Kanade hesitated, her voice dropping to a low whisper as she stared up at Honami, "...But, you're even warmer."

[caffiend-queen]

Masterlist: Caffiend’s Spooky As Fuck Halloween Recommendation Masterlist

Thirty-one days of Halloween horrors (and whores, I’m looking at you, Ransom!) completed! Please show our Tumblr besties the love they deserve for their hard work!

I’m gathering all my favorite spooky, sexy Halloween reads from my favorite authors here on Tumblr and AO3. All the really genius ones! In one super tasty bundle. Who loves you? Who’s your spooky Mama? Read on for Dark Loki, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Vampire!Loki, Cult Leader Steve Rogers, Incubus!Loki, the Winter Soldier and more.

1. Rapacity - Vampire Loki

@nildespirandum‘s genius Vampire Loki tale, sexy, scary, angsty as fuck.

2.  Danse Macabre - Scary Prophet Bucky Barnes

@imanuglywombat’s terrifying and sexy Bucky and he’s not wearing anything under that robe...

3.  Run Like Hell - relentless Winter Soldier

@navybrat817′s terrifying and sexy Winter Soldier tell you to run. DO IT.

4.  Come One, Come All. - Dark, terrifying Loki

@lokislastlove sexy, terrifying Funhouse Loki, but it’s not fun for anyone IN his Funhouse. Except for you.

5. Proserpina - Dark, Old God Steve Rogers

@boxofbonesfic and a terrifying descent into an underground prison.

6. Glory, Amen - Old One Steve Rogers

@punemy-spotted and another terrifying descent into Old Ones best forgotten.

7. Destiny - Dark, Sexy, Sadistic Loki

@mdemontespan1667′s sexy, scary Loki. And spiders.

8. 30 Days of Debauchery - kinky sexy as fuck Lokl

@myoxisbroken’s excellent “kink a day” masterpiece

9. Rose Red All Hallow’s Eve - gritty Curtis Everett

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s scary-ass ride with Curtis Everett.

10.  A Hex of Infinite Binding - Incubus Loki

@nildespirandum’s sexy as fuck Incubus Loki. In black. Leather. Pants.

11. One, or the Other -  Sir Thomas Sharpe and Vampire Adam, OLLA

@caffiend-queen’s filthy musing of one or both of these men impregnating you.

12. Silver Exposure - Dystopian Avengers featuring Pitch Black Steve and Charcoal Grey Bucky.

@xsapphirescrollsx and her terrifying and extremely vivid tale of what happens when you fuck with time travel.

13. One Fateful Christmas - Andy Barber wants you and He Is Deeply Displeased. Also, a blizzard.

@americasass81 and her jolly little Christmas nightmare (dream come true depending on your point of view.)

14. Made For Me - Spine-tingling terror when you realize the life you planned was not the one you were going to get. Mitigating factor: lots of sex with Bucky.

@saiyanprincessswanie’s tasty, terrifying tale.

15. Honey Trap - Sweet, sexy beekeeper Steve Rogers isn’t the sweet guy everything in your little town thinks he is...

@threeminutesoflife’s dark and deliciously twisted Steve. And a toaster.

16. A Summoning From The Depths - An Incubus!Loki Story

@nildespirandum’s Kinktober offering for Incubus!Loki and Witch Nora. With bonus cloven hooves goodness.

17. Dark Commander - Scary-ass Hydra Captain America

@jtargaryen18′s brilliant tale of who Hydra’s vision of Captain America would be

18.  I Dream at Night I Can Only See Your Face Roomate!Bucky Barnes

@thedarkplume’s dark, tasty tale of cupcakes and unrequited love. Be careful what you ask for...

19. Next Station - dark, ruthless Loki

@the-soulofdevil  a different retelling of what should have happened with Loki on Lamentis.

20. Monstrous - deranged Vampire Loki

@maiden-of-asgard’s terrifying, half-mad Vampire Loki and the Light Elf imprisoned with him.

21.  Can’t Run, Can’t Hide - terrifying Mafia!Bucky

@angrythingstarlight’s dark and sexy tale of what happens when you think you can leave Mafia Bucky.

22.  Concrete Jungle Rapunzel - insidious, dark Bucky

@imanuglywombat’s stark, heartbreaking tale of what it’s like to be loved too much.

23. Landlocked - Dark Andy Barber and a Selkie

@tonarinotogepi’s tale of what happens when Dark Andy Barber captures a Selkie

24,  To Love and To Hold - Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sweet wife

@sagechanoafterdark How long can you be married to a monster like Lee Bodecker before his evil sinks into you?

25.  Scare Tactics - Delicious Chris Evans distracting you.

Chris Evans, you, a spooky movie and his spectacular sexytime skills, courtesy of @jennmurawski13

26. Wilfords Demands and other Darkish!Curtis fics

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s sexy, scary tales of Gladiator, Impregnator Curtis Everett.

27. The Cult - Cult Leader Steve and too-trusting Bucky

@queenoftheworldisdead’s spooky tale of Cult Leader Steve wanting something Bucky has... his new wife.

28.  Murder, He Wrote - sinister as fuck Ransom Drysdale

@what-is-your-plan-today’s terrifying tale of a celebrity haunted mansion and the reporter sent to cover it.

29. Perfection - emotionally torn and hot as balls Sir William Sharpe

@nildespirandum’s epic tale of pain, longing, loss, genuine terror and the power of love.

30. Wet - shamelessly delicious Jonathan Pine

@devikafernando​’s decisive and shameless Jonathan Pine knows exactly how to get you wet. 

31. Pain - pitch black Loki

Minnie Rose shows just how angry Loki can be after escaping the clutches of Thanos. And you’re right there to lavish the wildly complicated upon your helpless body.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #2: Bark

Haurchefant toed the body of a slain imperial solider, a scowl crossing his features. The Fury had seemed to favor Camp Dragonhead. Some hours before he'd received word of imperial troops having made it into Coerthas under cover of a blizzard. When it came to Garlean encroachment upon his home, the Silver Fuller only had one rule.

Annihilation.

Even more so now, considering that Fortemps' holding was the home of the Fury's chosen vessels--Augustine and Mathye Bishop. The silver-haired elezen exhaled, breath puffing out in white clouds. Behind him he could hear the bark of orders being given, Corentiaux was directing the clean-up effort. The clear weather wouldn't last long, another storm was predicted to move in.

"This is the third anti-magic squad in as many months." He commented. "I feel I need to ask, has the Fury directed you to pass judgement upon the nonbelievers and I wasn't invited?"

"If there was an offensive against the Empire, you would be the first one we'd invite." Snow crunching under his boots, the blue-armored form of Augustine Bishop came up alongside the master of Camp Dragonhead. No longer semi-Primed, he was back to his normal self.

"As for this, you've heard the news from outside. The Black Wolf is on the march." Augustine squatted next to the dead man, patting him down and inspecting his pockets.

"With how he took over Ala Mhigo, it makes sense that he'd look at us. You know how the Vault reacted to my brother's Priming. And Ser Wrymblood's own. We're all just only barely getting along and even then."

"Scouts." Haurchefant mused.

"We're probably not the only ones dealing with this. Ser Borel's contacts have told him that Ifrit, Titan, and Garuda are active. Plus there was word of a unknown Eikon showing up in Limsa." Augustine considered the small pile of items he'd put together. Scraps of paper, a tomestone, a carved figurine of a man in red wood, and a locket. The tomestone was set to the side, along with the papers. The figurine and the locket went back in the dead man's pockets.

"May you enjoy peace on the other side." He murmured, bowing his head. Haurchefant echoed the prayer, watching as Augustine stood up.

"So the Black Wolf is testing for weaknesses then?" He asked. "That makes for ill hearing." Augustine didn't respond immediately, his gaze flicking towards the Nail.

"If I were you, I'd see about getting some men together to investigate Castrum Aquilonis." He said. "Like you said, the third incursion as in many months? They can't be coming from outside."

[endlessnightlock]

71.

"Would you just shut up please?"

A continuation of this bed-sharing prompt. 

Part One  

Part Two

Peeta went upstairs to his family’s apartment, moving slowly to prevent more of my fussing about being careful. For a person who couldn’t get up from the floor last night and stumbled on his feet getting out of bed, he’s pushing his luck today. “I grabbed these to stuff in the cracks around the door,” he says, reappearing with an armful of worn, threadbare sheets. “Ought to keep the snow outside.” 

The wind is even stronger today than last night, and snow is steadily making it’s way into the kitchen between the door and it’s frame. Frigid air whistles in also, invading my ears while the white stuff lands on the floor. There’s something this strong winter wind howling outside that makes it seem as though it’d be easy to lose your mind. 

Sliding off the stool by the kitchen work counter, I join Peeta by the back door. Carefully, he stuffs edges of the sheets wherever a draft comes in. wanting to keep the small bit of space we established this morning, I lean against the door and peer out the window into the wall of blizzard snow. Tiny, frozen flakes ping against the window panes and wood siding with a delicate thunk sound. “Wonder how long this storm’ll last,” I muse, shivering at the thought of being outside in that.

“We’ll be fine here,” Peeta says. “We have enough wood to keep the smallest oven going, and enough provisions.” He frowns, stuffing the last of the sheet into the base of the doorway before looking up at me. “You think your mother and Prim are alright, will they worry that you never made it home last night?”

I shrug. There’s enough food at home to last them three or four days so I’m not concerned. And the other—

“They stopped worrying about me a long time ago,” I say nonchalantly. “They know I’m good at finding places to hole up and wait things out.”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t worry. I would,” Peeta admits, standing after managing to block the snow’s way inside the kitchen. I step aside, allowing him room to shove another sheet between the window pane and it’s frame. “Glad you didn’t try to go home last night.”

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” I tell him. 

“Someone I loved? I wouldn’t want them out in that,” he sucks air in through his teeth. Glancing at me, he raises his eyebrow. “It’s wicked out there,” he adds, moving around me and effectively dropping the subject. Which is good because it was on the tip of my tongue to ask why he used the word loved. 

Since he isn’t opening the bakery today, there isn’t a whole lot for him and I to do to pass the time. He puts a kettle of water on the stove, and once it’s boiling, pours the water into a pot for tea before offering to make us something for breakfast. Although I protest, not wanting to owe him anything, he rolls his eyes at me. “Consider it payment for last night’s nursing,” he says, squatting next to the wood stove, sliding a peel with slices of bread on it inside. Eyes almost twinkling, he glances at me and adds, “Don’t worry. I was just going to make toast. You won’t owe me your firstborn or anything.”

“Your second born, maybe,” he adds when I remain quiet, peering inside the open door. “Only if you have an overabundance.”

I cover my mouth to keep my laughter in. “Got you there, I’m never having kids,” I reply.

“Well, I guess you got me then. Perfect,” Peeta says to himself, sliding the peel back out. On it’s blackened, worn-smooth surface, lie two thick pieces of hearty bread. “No butter, but we do have some honey. Go sit at the counter, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’m not---”

“Katniss, would you just shut up please?” He interrupts, laughing when I scowl at him. “I’m not going to eat in front of you. I know you’re hungry. You know you’re hungry. Don’t be so stubborn.”

A few moments later we’re sitting on stools at the work counter, having tea and toast. 

“Sorry, it’s a little dry,” Peeta apologizes, dunking one end of his slice in his tea mug. 

“It’s perfect,” I say quietly. My slice of bread sticks in my throat, but not because of it’s texture. I’m certain what we’re eating is the same kind he threw to me that day he saved my life. 

“Nah. It’s perfect when it’s fresh.”

“I know, but this is good. Thank you,” I add, meeting his eye, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “Thank you for the other time you fed me, too.”

Peeta sets his slice on the counter, brushing his hands together to rid them of any crumbs. “Do you mean from when we were kids?”

I raise my eyebrows at him. Obviously. “It meant a lot to me,” I say.

Peeta looks away, cheeks pinking under my scrutiny. “I think we can let that one go.”

“Why did you do it, though?”

He meets my eyes again. “Because you needed it.”

“But your mother hurt you for burning it. I heard her do it!”

“And I survived,” he says, and I’m suddenly embarrassed about bringing that up, the way I paid attention to it all and how I’ve done so with him since. 

“It’s not that big a deal. I was worried about you, the way you came to school after your father, well, passed, looking so thin and just, you looked hollow, like the life was sucked out of you or something. And I wanted to help you, hell, anything to help before then. My chance didn’t come until that night. So I gave you some bread, and my mother hit me. But you lived.”

Silence settles between us, the thick sort where someone is sure to blurt something out any moment. I go first. “Why me, though?”

“Why not?” he counters, picking up his mug of tea and taking a drink, grimacing at the flavor. “You don’t always have to do something expecting things in return.”

“Yes you do,” I counter strongly. What nonsense is he saying? “That’s exactly what you do. If you do something for me, I owe you. If I do something for you, then you owe me.”

“So you think you owe me?” Peeta asks softly, leaning forward on his stool.

I drop my eyes to the counter top, avoiding his gaze. “I owe you a lot, and I can never repay it.”

“I wish you didn’t feel that way,” he says hesitantly. “The thing is, I would have given you that bread anyway. That was always going to happen. But Katniss, I like you. I always have.”

“You like me?” I ask, confused. Obviously he doesn’t dislike me or we wouldn’t be sitting here talking. It seems to me he likes everyone. No one ever has a bad word to say about him.

Peeta stares at me pointedly, until I realize what he’s getting at. 

Oh. He likes me. I laugh nervously because what is actually happening right now? My heart flutters in my chest, heat creeping up my neck. “I didn’t know,” I admit.

He smiles ruefully, moving his hand forward, touching my fingertips for half a second before scooting it back. “I never got up the nerve to talk to you before, why would you? So you can understand why I don’t want you to feel you owe me anything.”

“I just...I don’t understand.”

“What is there to not understand?” he pries.

“I don’t know,” I say dropping my face into the palm of my hands. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that,” I mumble through my fingers.

“Does that make you uncomfortable, knowing I like you?” Peeta asks, sounding unsure of himself for the first time. “I don’t expect anything from you---”

“No!” I pop my head up, immediately cringing upon realizing I shouted at him. “Sorry, er. No.”

He laughs. “Okay. Good. I’m glad. Are you, uh, done there?” 

Biting my lip I nod, pushing my tea cup away. My toast is already gone.

“What should we do now?” Peeta asks, taking my cup away.

I swear my heart stops. “Huh?” I ask. I don’t know what to do about him liking me. 

“Well, there isn’t much to do down here. I can’t really prep anything, since I don’t know when we’ll be open for business again. Do you want to go upstairs to the apartment? There are some books up there, or there’s always television.”

I sigh in relief. Of course Peeta meant what are we going to do this afternoon, not what we’re going to do about him liking me. What is there to do about that, really? At least I don’t need to answer that question today. “Yeah, let’s go upstairs.”

[nrdmssgs]

Darker matters (part 2)

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Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: Gathering strength, losing something much more important. Warnings: Swearing, inaccurate description of military operations. Author's note: This is a sequel to A heart full of pity. Thanks: My eternal muses: @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And a very special thanks to @pale-elysium for the unbelievably beautiful things and words shared. Thank you for your kind help with German part of the story. I owe you so much.

“Zhar, you have thirty more minutes before that blizzard reaches your position. Over.” Leaning over the radio transmitter, Iskra nervously taps an intricate rhythm with her knuckles on the table. She regrets succumbing to Zhars persuasions.

Of course, ‘want to make Nikolai happy - make this woman happy’ rule still applied to their work, but this time they are risking losing the second in command in a snow-storm, that approached her. This for sure wouldn't make Nik happy. So the only hope, Iskra has, is that Zhar turns back to the transport right now, and their commander never finds out, what happened on this mission. 

“Iskorka*, don't worry. I was born here - a little snow won't do any hurt. I need just a bit more time to tag our targets and then ill wait till the blizzard calms down in an old depot. Now how about I do my job, and you keep Nikolai occupied and away? Over.” Even through comms, Iskra feels a sweet smile, that always accompanies Zhars cooing tone.

“You stubborn ass, this was my job, and you somehow sold me this stupid idea of passing it on to you.” This Iskra mutters just to herself, taking out a cigarette and patting her pockets in search of a lighter. Not only, she is stuck in this half-dead city in the far north of Russia in November, when -25 C is considered surprisingly warm - she may just witness a slow and painful death of her superior and can do absolutely nothing about that. Iskra is pissed - she already promised herself to never give in to Olga’s persuasion again, but that's not enough to calm her down. She needs just a few inhales of cigarette smoke, to not shout back at Zhar.

A lighter clicks right before her face. Iskra knows, to whom does this one belong, but she still lifts her gaze and immediately regrets it. He was supposed to be on the other side of the continent, but some animalistic instinct led him right here, to an apartment converted into the far north Chimera operations hqs.

Before she even opens her mouth, the man asks to make room in front of the radio with a silent gesture. Iskra looks back with an unspoken regret, but he is relentless. So she takes off her headphones and hands them to him, giving up her chair.

Zhar can't let herself turn back now, when she's almost done. Her mind begs her to give up and run, before a thick gray wall of snow descends on conserved weaponry, cuts off ways back to Iskra and erases Zhars footprints in mere minutes. Her body is already giving up, as she feels her breath shaking and the world around her starts spinning. But to abort this operation now would mean to return to point zero, erasing both strategic and personal progress, she reached. Seeing blizzard, coming after her from far horizon line, she lets herself only one moment of rest, closing her eyes and blindly checking her equipment. And then a familiar voice pulls Zhar out of her cold oblivion.

“You are turning back right now. It's either you coming back on your own, or I'm dragging you out of there. Chose wisely, nebo moye*. By the way, you were born near Moscow, not in Norilsk*, so stop telling nonsense to your colleagues. Out.” Zhar curses under her breath and heads back to the transport. 

When she enters their improvised hq, it's full of people already. She maneuvers between unfamiliar faces, smiles at familiar ones, taking off the outer layers of her winter gear as she goes. In the depths of the apartment there is a dark doorway leading to a small bedroom. Judging by the way the others are slowly gathering at the opposite end of the apartment, Olga understands what awaits her there. 

She pauses on the threshold, takes a deep breath and steps into the darkness.

“Help me solve a riddle, will you?” A familiar voice: deep and husky. A voice, that can be so soft, yet now it's all cold and steel. “I send a group of trained soldiers to infiltrate an old military base and tag weapons stored there. I give them a commander, that would organize their work and manage every step of an operation. Because of extreme conditions, I specifically emphasize that the commander is still rehabilitating after an injury and must remain at headquarters. After I'm reassured, everything will be fine - I let them all go, kiss the woman I love goodbye and go on with my business. That's when I receive an invoice from our equipment supplier. And find out, we only have to pay for one set of winter equipment. Strangely, it's all your size. Any thoughts on how I had to interpret it?”

She is glad that Nikolai is standing behind her and does not see how her hands are shaking while she is trying to unbutton her jacket.

“I'm ok, Nik. I-”

“No, you are not!” The door slams shut. Nikolai doesn't want others to hear, what he's about to say. But most importantly - he doesn't want others to witness, how weak in every single sense she is right now. 

“Olga, you are the best ally, I could ever wish for. Your skills, loyalty, discipline, mindset - hell, I regret not hiring you sooner. But it all turns to nothing once you cross a border of this specific country. Here you are off the leash, fighting at war, that happens in your own head. Every single time, I leave you alone here - you believe, you have to do everything by yourself, even if it means putting yourself in danger. What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you try this hard to get yourself killed here?!”

She knows, Nikolai is not mad at her. Zhar heard his voice, when he was pissed. But this time he sounds concerned, even scared for her. And that convinces her to be honest to him.

“This place owes me a few people… But I promise, it's not about the country, it's about our team.”

Niks hands cover hers, as he presses himself to her back. “Our team? Nebo moye, they are perfectly capable soldiers. Iskra, Yegor, Taava - all trained professionals, and they are not currently undergoing heavy medication course.”

“I can't risk them here, Nik. They have families, they have loved ones to come back to.”

“And you don't?” He squeezes her tighter in his arms, despite her last words hurting him. Deep inside he awaited, mixing work and relationship together, shifting in so many new roles won't be easy for both of them. Being a Lieutenant in the TF is very different from being the second in command in a private military company. 

Zhar finally relaxes, leans her head back on his shoulder. “Prosti. Ya ne hotela… Ya prosto ne smogla ih otpravit`*”

“How about a deal, my treasure?” Nik turns around and sits on the edge of a dusty old bed. “You find a contractor: anyone, you'd like, complete freedom of choice, I won't interfere. I don't care if their tariff is ridiculously high - we get that soldier for you. Only one circumstance from me: this lucky guy or girl wouldn't be your friend, they will be your subordinate. There will be no missions, you are too afraid to send them on. Sounds good enough?”

What Zhar couldn't get used to is Nikolais unique way of leading any potential fight to a deal. Skipping the actual fighting, he was acting as if he already went through all the potential outcomes of it in his mind and ended up with a proposal, she wasn't able to turn down. 

Leaning on his shoulder, she slowly sank onto the bed next to him.

“Any soldier, I'd ask for?”

Nikolai half smiles, remembering something. “Well, any except for the 141. Price still bears a grudge against me for you…”

***

"Five murder charges, a treason, ban on visiting not one, not even four, but six countries... Is it a CV or a hire-a-crazy-boy-to-ruin-your-company bingo?" Nikolai chuckles, but it is obvious that he is not happy with her choice.

"You gave me the green light on whoever I want to hire..." As Nik waves potential recruits papers, pointing at the guy down in the hall, she catches the papers and pulls them out of his hand.

"I can work with that." She rises from the table and heads for the exit of their private room when Nikolai catches her arm and pulls her closer.

"I know. And that is yet another reason, I'm so in love."

It's not even a caress - just a warmth of his breath rolling down her neck. A promise of something yet to come, when she's back. Zhar could cover the marks, he left on her skin, mask his deep earthy scent with her perfume, but she could never leave him with a calm facade after he teased her that, obviously.

To her relief, their applicant was too engrossed in studying the menu to notice her from afar.

"Herr Krueger, schön, Sie kennenzulernen!*" The man rose his gaze on her and squinted displeasedly.

"Eigentlich ist mein Name Doss…*"

"Eigentlich ist dein Name Krueger. Jetzt hör auf mit dem Unsinn und lass uns zur Sache kommen.*"

***

They were spreading thin and Zhar didn't like it. Too many points of clash, and they're multiplying by every next minute. By this point, executing a withdrawal in one piece would be considered a positive outcome for the whole group.

Zhar touches Kruegers shoulder and points to a place, she's about to head in.

“Nikolai is still there? I'm coming with you then!” Kruegers inhuman hunger for a fight sometimes terrified Olga. But she never showed it. 

“You are staying here covering me, Sebastian. Then you take others back to the base. I'm bringing your boss back, no matter what.” Zhar tenses, her manner of speaking does not tolerate objections. It takes a lot of self-control to not show, how worried she is.

“Good hunting, commander.” Krueger takes a position, checks the route ahead and gestures her, that the path is clear for now. 

She moves with such a high speed that any other partner would not have enough time to cover her with fire. But she chose Sebastian over others for a reason: with his talents, this man is worth of an army. Bullets are flying right above her head, as she ducks and almost falls down a slippery spur. Sweat pours into Zhars eyes, the rifle pulled her to the ground, her legs gave way, but she never stopped. But Krueger was right: this was a hunt, and she wouldn't come back without Nik.

When she finally reaches a half-destroyed building where Nikolai is hiding - he meets her with an irritated look. 

“I'm here to extract you. If they want Chimera beheaded - they'll have to pass through me first.” Zhar answers on his unspoken question, checking if he is wounded. 

“Olga, that's exactly what they want: us both in one place. So be a good soldier for me, go back and lead our people away from this shithole now! And I promise you - this way they'll never behead us.” His words sting her like a slap in the face. What is there left for Chimera, if he stays, risking his life, not letting her fight side by side with him? What is there left for her?

“You know, what it costed me to get here? Nikolai, I didn't fight my way here just for you to turn me away!” She hisses, trying to take up his position and make him go instead of her. 

That's when a long whistle is heard in the sky and the far wall of the building trembles and folds like a house of cards, covering them with impenetrable clouds of dust. Zhar falls to the ground next to Nik. He covers her with his body, for a split second, his lips press against her cheek. He doesn't care about the dust or the streaks of sweat on her skin.

“Nichto ne dast mne takoi silu, kak uverennost`, chto ti v bezopasnosti. Proshu tebya, nebo.*” His voice, although husky from dust, is so calm, as if they're not in the middle of the battleground. 

“You!” Zhar stammers, coughs, but goes on. “You come back in one piece to me, you hear?”

“Always.” Nikolai releases her and pushes away softly.

She hates to leave him alone, fights and urge to turn back and protect him by any cost, but his words still echo in her mind, as she sneaks back from his position under dust cover. “Nothing could grant me as much strength as knowing, that you're safe.” Nikolai knows, how and when to press the right buttons, to make her do anything he wants. Even if it goes against her nature. So she clenches her jaw tightly and disappears in a thick forest, maneuvering between enemies, and remaining unseen. 

The shooting subsides long before Zhar catches up with the rest of the Chimera. This is a good sign - it means Nikolai did not try to become a hero and managed to hide from the enemy, double back, and now he must approach the safe point. Olga inspects their transport, counts people: a few are still missing.

She sends the first group, led by Krueger, away and sits on the ground, waiting for the others. A few minutes later, one soldier appears from the forest, then a second. Their equipment iss soaked to the skin, but they are not injured. Zhar inspects them, arranges transport for the second group, and handles other unforeseen circumstances. 

Iskra tries to catch her for a couple of times, but it's useless - Olga is too deep in a myriad of small tasks to break her concentration. When Iskra finally manages to catch her attention, she notices, that Olgas whole body shakes.

“Zhar, listen to me, please: we need to get away from here. You need to get away.” Iskra tries to steady her commander's trembling hands, but it doesn't help. 

“I-I-I… Fuck, I still need to gather one of our men. I h-have to…” This is no ordinary Zhars demeanor - it's something breaking deep inside her right now. And Iska gets it: her commander already understands very well, what have just happened. She is just reluctant to admit it. So Iskra does the only right thing.

“Zhar stop, look at me. It's not ‘one of our men’, it's Nikolai. And you are running around here not for ten, not even for thirty minutes - it's been an hour, since you came back. If he followed you - he'd be here much sooner. By this point, you must break radio silence to confirm-”

Olga doesn't let her end the phrase and roughly breaks out of Iskras hands. She heads straight to the radio-module and turns it on.

“All stations, this is Lima 5, how copy, over.”

The answers followed almost immediately. Soldier after soldier, voice after voice. Zhar was counting, drawing a little line on the ground over and over. Only one station didn't react.

“Yankee 7, this is Lima 5, how copy, over.”

No answer. Zhar felt, as if she was facing this silent void alone. She didn't feel Iskras hands, trying to pull her away from the radio. Didn't even hear, how her own voice betrayed her and broke into an ugly wheeze.

“Yankee 7, this is Lima 5, how copy, over.”

No answer.

Iskorka - a hypocoristic form of a noun ‘Iskra’, which means ‘a spark’ in Russian

nebo moye - my sky/heaven

Norilsk - one of the northernmost cities in Russia. The average winter temperature in Norilsk is much lower than the average winter temperature in e.g. Moscow

Prosti. Ya ne hotela… Ya prosto ne smogla ih otpravit`* - Im sorry, I didnt want to… I just couldn't send them there.

Herr Krueger, schön, Sie kennenzulernen! - Nice to meet you, mister Krueger.

Eigentlich ist mein Name Doss… - Actually my name is Doss...

Eigentlich ist dein Name Krueger. Jetzt hör auf mit dem Unsinn und lass uns zur Sache kommen. - Actually your name is Krueger. Now stop with the nonsense and let's get down to business.

Nichto ne dast mne takoi silu, kak uverennost`, chto ti v bezopasnosti. Proshu tebya, nebo. - Nothing could grant me as much strength as knowing, that you're safe. Please, my sky.

Next part

[devinescribe]

By Your Side

Ch. 7 of “My Sunshine” [TreechxReader]

Warnings: bombing, mentions of explosions and being hurt, nothing too graphic in my opinion, and cursing.

You hadn't even noticed that you fell asleep last night. It was still dark out when you woke up, but decided to shower and get ready for the day. You dressed in your school uniform and headed out.

You wanted to go to the zoo and talk with him but realized you'd see him first thing in the morning.

You walked into the classroom, shocked to see Coryo already there.

"You're here early," you mused, siting in your seat, one in between left for Sejanus.

"I could say the same for you," he retorted, still reading.

You shrugged, "Figured I wouldn't be able to go to sleep after so I just got ready...."

You lay your head on the desk, looking up at the blonde, who was reading something. You didn't care what it was about. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes, how hollow his cheeks looked, his perfect blonde curls lay on his head, the only bright thing about him besides his eyes. His eyes weren't just blue. They were ice blue. A single glance was enough to send ice through your veins and make you regret looking at him.

"Staring is quite rude you know," he mentioned, finally putting his book down.

You sighed and sat up, looking him in the eyes.

Holding eye contact was important to you. It showed people were listening, and that they cared.

"Have you heard from Clemensia?" You asked, suddenly remembering the girl.

He looked away.

"I... I last heard she just wasn't feeling well-"

"Don't lie. You can say nothin' or you can say the truth, but do not lie to me," you spat, your tone coming out more harsh than you meant it to.

The boy looked down. You apologized, truly not meaning to come off so rude.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," you whispered.

"...it's ok. You're tired and stressed dealing with all of this-"

"An apology doesn't begin with an accusation. Nor does it begin with deflecting your actions onto other things," you interrupted.

Most people in the Capitol were used to giving half assed apologies that put the blame on everyone but themselves. It was obvious that Coryo wasn't used to that.

It was weird, calling him that. You didn't know why he gave you the permission to do that.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Good morning (Y/N)... Mr. Snow. Quite the early risers aren't you?"

Dean Highbottom sighed, placing his bag onto his desk.

"Couldn't sleep. Decided I'd get here early.... Dr. Gaul never mentioned when I'd have to turn in my paper. I got it done, but I wasn't given a time to give it to her," you mumbled, remembering the brown folder in your bag. You pulled it out carefully.

"Well, before we head to the arena, she will be here. Give it to her then. I'm sure she will appreciate you getting it done in such a short time... with everything that's happened," Dean Highbottom said. "Your father wasn't too pleased with your stunt, I assume?"

You went back to last night where your father kept yelling through the door despite your sobs.

"Not pleased at all..."

He hummed and went back to putting papers in drawers and organizing.

"Your father is... much like Sejanus's father in a way. Wished everyone would forget he was district so he hates his people almost more than the Capitol," he mused.

You nodded. Coriolanus scoffed besides you.

"Is there something you would like to add to the conversation Mr. Snow? I'm sure your father would be rolling in his grave seeing you with your songbird," Highbottom said, his eyes staring directly into Coryo's.

A scowl slowly crossed his features, this icy blue eyes clouding over, blizzarding with hatred.

The air filled with tension and you let out a relieved sigh at Sejanus's entrance.

"Good morning to you all," he said, a little too happy for someone getting to the academy at 6:30.

"Mornin'," you responded as he sat next to you.

He gave you a dopey smile and you were honestly suspicious.

"What's got you lookin' like that sweetheart?" You giggled, poking his shoulder.

"Oh? Just that... I know something that makes me happy. Nothing you should worry about," he said with a smile.

You looked suspiciously between both boys who seemed to be acting strangely. Dean Highbottom stepped out of the room and you looked at both of them.

"You kissed each other didn't you?"

"Ew-"

"(N/N) why would you say that?!"

"I would never ever even think of kissing a Pli-"

"I would never even even think of kissing him-"

"Neither of you are denying it."

Their faces of mutual embarrassment and disgust made you laugh.

The boys shared a look and immediately looked away, blushing furiously .

"I was just joking... but you've both been actin' so strange..." you mumbled.

They let out a sigh of relief.

"Can't believe you thought I'd kiss him of all people," Coryo muttered.

"Not like you've kissed anyone anyway," you teased.

"Neither have you!"

The three of you stared at each other in silence until bursting out in laughter.

Once again, forgetting who and where you were. Sej and you weren't District to Capitol, Coryo was a Capitol Prick.

You were just kids. Like you'd always been.

——

The three of you walked together to the arena, behind everyone else.

"I ain't ever seen you smile that much let alone laugh," you giggled.

"Your face when Dr. Gauls hand was on your shoulder? Fucking priceless," Sejanus laughed.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes but smiled.

Maybe... the districts weren't that bad. Hanging out with the two district to Capitol kids made him understand Lucy Gray a bit better, and internally he wondered if he saw them as friends or as pawns to get closer to her.

"When I gave her my paper I thought she would shoot me down right there!" You whispered with a laugh.

The rest of your classmates were so ahead and lost in their own conversations, you knew they couldn't hear.

But the chatter and laughter died down as you reached the arena. You saw the tributes lined up by district, boy girl.

You silently slipped next to Treech and smiled. He looked at you and gave you a small smile back.

You could feel his fingers softly reach for yours and you slowly enveloped your hand with his.

"Missed you."

"Missed you more," he whispered back with a grin.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Mind getting your hands off of my girl?"

"Oh go fuck yourself, Creed. I am not yours not at all, I've never been and your entitlement to me disgusts mes I am not an object to own," you hissed at him, rolling your eyes.

The boy immediately cowered and ran off.

"Tail between his legs... he's such an army brat," you scoffed.

"So that's Festus Creed," Treech mumbled.

You turned to him, "You know who he is?"

The boys face turned bright red.

"Well it's just Sejanus mentioned him-"

"When did you talk to Sej?"

He wouldn't meet your eyes. He knew if he did he would spill everything. Every single thing he'd been thinking.

He was thankful that in that moment, you all began to enter in the arena. A red glow from some lights gave it an eerie feel.

"Thank you, enjoy the show."

You shuddered at that. How gross. Disgusting. Dehumanizing. They were being sent to their deaths and that was what they had to hear before it?

You saw Coriolanus and Lucy Gray holding hands and slowly letting go in front of the cameras. You looked up at Treech. His face was wiped of any emotion, yet you watched as his eyes filled with fear.

You kept his hand in yours, squeezing it for comfort.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled to you, so quiet you almost didn't hear.

"Hey, hey... you're gonna be ok... I promise I'm getting you out of this alive. I can't... I can't loose you," you mumbled to him.

The mentors and tributes split up. Most mentors went to talk in their own groups, leaving the tributes to talk amongst themselves.

"Hey, lumberjack!"

You both turned around. You a bit upset at the audacity of someone calling him your nickname and also out of curiosity.

Who were you kidding you were upset about someone calling him your nickname for him.

It was Coral.

It could be beneficial for him to be in a group... but groups turn on each other.

"Lamina-" he called out, getting interrupted.

"No no. You. Just you."

You looked at him to see what he would do. His hand slowly left yours as he walked over to the group.

You were immediately saddened by this. But had no time to react as a hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away.

"What gives!?" The voice whisper yelled.

Pup Harrington.

Lamina's mentor.

"I can't control what he does or who he goes with," you responded.

"I thought we would be allies at least-"

"You never discussed becoming my ally-"

"Thought it would be a given considering they are from the same district! How stupid could he be?! The group is going to-"

"Listen. I cannot control him. He picked the group. He is not stupid, he knows they will start killing each other. And I'm sure I'll figure out a plan. Lamina is strong willed, she's a strong climber... she will do well," you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Pup wasn't as bad as the rest of the kids in class. Mostly kept to himself.

"Alright. I hope you know what you're talking about."

And with that you walked off in separate directions, only taking a step before a loud bang was heard.

Bombs.

The bombs were going off everywhere and you were thrown back from the shock wave.

Your ears rang as you looked up, double vision everywhere. There was dust everywhere and bombs were still going off. Fire.

You shakily stood up, trying to keep your balance. You coughed, covering your mouth with your sleeve.

Tributes were running, you heard some say the gate was open, and saw them running towards it.

The world spun around you and you took a shaky step, before noticing there was people standing n the ground. It struck a fear into you that you hadn't felt since the war.

All those bodies. Burned. Bleeding out.

Then your mind turned to how Treech would hold you close in the bombings, covering you from any dust.

Wait... Treech.

Where was he?

Your breathing became heavier as you panicked looking around for him and sign of him.

"Treech! Treech!" You screamed out, your voice ringing and echoing across the chaos filled hall. 

Peacekeepers shoved past you, shooting their guns. You screamed in fear, falling to your knees again, covering your head.

A scared child.

That's all you could think of. The bombings back home, the bodies, your mind raced with thoughts of his body being one of them and screamed with tears streaming down your face.

The center of the arena started to fall and you tried to back away, failing at doing so, but succeeding at getting cuts all over your palms

"(Y/N)!? (Y/N)!"

Strong arms picked you up and took you away from the middle, where beams of steel and concrete fell.

"You alright? Hey, hey? Stay with me alright... fuck you've got some nasty cuts." The voice muttered.

You looked up and saw the person you had been screaming for. Your arms wrapped around him and he cried out.

He was hurt.

You stood up carefully, both of you leaning into each other. He tried to drag you back to where you had come from, but you stopped him.

"No, some people ran away that way, don't want them to think you're runnin' away too. They'll shoot you dead, please," you begged, coughing. There was dust and smoke invading your mouth, throat and lungs.

He gave a shaky breath and nodded.

You two were trying to find help. Anyone that knew a way out.

You'd never been here, so you didn't know...

Coryo.

Coryo had mentioned coming here as a kid, his family used to have one of the private boxes to watch the games when he was little.

"Gotta... find Coryo, he'll know the way out-"

You felt his arms get ripped away from you, and heard him cry out in pain. You turned to see a peacekeeper, grabbing him and pulling him away. Another peacekeeper did the same to you.

Some of the glass stuck in your arm was pushed in by his hands and you screamed out in pain. Your body was finally aware of all the pain it was in, the adrenaline to survive fading out, making you pass out.

_____

It had been about three days in the hospital drifting in and out of a painkiller haze. You hated it. Nurses came in and out, but Sejanus was the one who came to visit more often than not. The games had been delayed once more due to kids being hurt and in the hospital. The mentors of course, not the tributes. The interviews would happen at the end of the week, the games the day after. If you could be there, you could be there. Your release day was set to be the day of. Meaning today.

You woke up in the hospital. You were drowsy from what had happened and the medicine they had given you. Sejanus was beside your bed, and smiled softly when he saw you had woken up.

"Please, tell me is he ok?" You asked, pleading with Sejanus, who had been released the day right after the bombing. His injuries were minor compared to a lot of the others.

"He's good as can be... had to get stitches for one cut on his back but the vet-"

"Vet?"

Silence filled the small area.

"You mean to tell me... that we survived a bombing... got rushed to the hospital... and they got thrown back into that zoo cage... and they have a VET attending to them?!" You shouted.

Your heart monitor started going up, beeping harshly.

"Hey, hey, hey... calm down. I know. I get it... I was pissed off when I found out too, but...  it's... better than nothing I guess..." he muttered.

You were getting released today. You would see him tonight.

The nurses came in, and finally signed the discharge paperwork.

Sejanus walked you home.

You had been lucky. Mostly shrapnel that had been imbedded in your skin. Some dust and smoke in your lungs, but nothing coughing it out didn't fix.

The worst part had been the necklace. You didn't lose it, but the nurses were not careful, breaking the chain.

"Hey... cheer up. In just... two hours you'll get to see your lover boy," he said with a smile.

You blushed and looked down.

"We're just friends-"

"(Y/N), please. You like him. I think you always have. It's obvious to everyone else. And I think you should tell him. Plus..." he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket, opening it for you. "Friends don't just keep a ring on a necklace or one letter you sent years ago."

It was the necklace, but it was fixed. Nothing had been changed, it was your necklace from Treech.

"I saw it on the bedside table broken and... god, I know how important this is to you. I took it to get fixed. All they did was fix the chain," he said with a smile, putting it on you.

"Friends don't look at each other the way you two look at each other."

Hehehehehehehe so uh... heyyyy

I'm keeping it a bit more accurate to the book than the movie. Treech will also be in the arena more book than movie. Yes, he's starting off with the pack, but after some time, he is going to do what his book self did. In case some of you who only watched the movie were wondering why tf my timeline is so off. It's not, I'm not making up the funerals or any of it, it happened in the book. How are you guys liking this story so far? Do I entertain you?