#cause. i doubt we'll see any snow any soon.

[jellyloveru]

i put the fogs on hold for now...

[syndrossi]

Restoration au Jon giving the talk to rhaegar about to hide their targaryeness

We'll call this Resonant!Jon 0.5...

x~x~x

Jon knew Castle Winterfell and its environs better than any other place in the world. He had spent half his time at the Wall dreaming of Winterfell, of home. It was what had made their visit North so unsettling, and given him a taste of what Rhaegar must have felt when they had first arrived at the Red Keep to find it so different from his own.

The broken tower was unbroken. The godswood was smaller, and the wolfswood was larger, encroaching much closer upon Winterfell itself.

No more. Once he and Rhaegar had recovered from their disorientation, their dragons rousing from a confusion of their own, his gaze had landed on Winterfell in the distance, on the uneven outline of the ruined tower. They were twice as distant as the treeline had been before--akin to the wolfswood he had known before.

We are elsewhere.

Elsewhen. A time closer to the one he had known. Jon did not know how it was possible, or what it meant. It is not like before, like Summerhall, he reassured himself, because Rhaegar was beside him, along with their dragons, and he forced himself to believe that Daemon himself was not far. Nevertheless, it meant--

"We must send the dragons away," he said.

"What?" Rhaegar inched closer to Qelebrys, looking startled. "Why should we not fly back to the castle? We are hardly dressed for the cold."

"Look around," Jon said. "This is not the Winterfell we left."

And they would be spotted, soon enough. He yanked at Rhaegar's hair tie, pulling it free so that he could start freeing his hair from its telltale braids.

"What are you doing?" Rhaegar asked, though he did not move to stop him.

"You remember my stories. I grew up in a time where it was--dangerous to be of our house. We could both be in danger if anyone were to know."

"Jon--" Rhaegar's hand found his wrist, and his brother turned to him in concern. "I do not think that altering my hairstyle will fool anyone."

Jon's mouth tightened and he resumed his work, fingers clumsy already from cold and fear. "I know. But--"

But we must try. Jon knew his father--Lord Stark. He was not a man to murder a child for the circumstances of his birth. But if they could plant any possible doubt about Rhaegar's identify...

"We will use our Vale names," Jon said, uncaring of the mess it might cause. "We must not speak of our dragons, or of House Targaryen or any members of our house."

And above all, you. Your name.

"Go," Jon said to Shadow, feeling his dragon's concern at their obvious discomfort in the cold. "Keep from sight. Hunt quietly. Stay hidden until I call you."

Rhaegar looked like he was beginning to grasp the danger they now found themselves in, repeating the orders to Qelebrys. The two dragons made for the forest, eliminating one damning mark of their identity. As for the rest...

"Knives," Jon said, because Royce sigils would raise just as many questions they could not answer. He unfastened his cloak pin, then the cloak itself, which bore their house's sigil, using it to wrap all the items they wore that betrayed them as Targaryen. They walked closer to the wolfswood, digging into the snow to bury their bundles, and his hands burned with the cold, half numb.

Without their cloaks, the wind cut even deeper. Still summer, Jon thought. Which could mean almost any period during the first fourteen years of his life. But summer in the North was colder than either of them had become accustomed to.

In the distance, Jon could just make out a few dots that marked a band approaching from the castle. Horses and men.

"What do we do?" Rhaegar asked, shivering into his side. The tremble in his voice was only partly due to the cold, Jon knew.

"I do not know," he admitted, hugging him tighter.

At times he had thought that he would give anything to see his family--his Stark family--again. Alive, unbroken, untouched by the sorrows that followed in the wake of Robert Baratheon's visit. But--

Not Rhaegar. Not Daemon. Not them.

[french-unknown]

𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖆𝖜

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: law 𝖈/𝖜: war, angst, little sibling!reader 𝖜/𝖈: 4.2k + 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You were entertaining your sister at Flevance Hospital during the festival when Law, your older brother, burst into the room. From there, everything turned into nightmares.

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | e v e n t . s u m m a r y |

𝖑𝖆𝖜

You were snuggled against the shoulder of your 8-year-old big sister's on her hospital bed. Your black stuffed cat, Virus, was tightly held against your chest.

Since she had been affected by the Amber Lead Syndrome—as your father called it—a few days ago, you saw your sister's state of health gradually deteriorate. While she was with you at the festival a week ago, she was now too weak to even leave her room. All you could do to help her was dab her sweaty forehead with a cloth like your mother had shown you. So, wanting to prove that you were reliable for a 5-year-old child, you stayed by her side every evening by coming directly to the hospital after school to take care of her and keep her as occupied as you could.

“I’m scared.” she told you two days ago, in the middle of the night, while your parents were in their laboratory looking for a cure for her illness. Her skin, where snow-white patches appeared as if by magic, was almost cold as she held you in her trembling arms. You didn't dare tell her but her dark circles had become so purple that they scared you a little.

“Mom and Dad will find out what you have.” However, you replied confidently before placing Virus between you so that she could also benefit from its comfort.

Today, you were telling her about your day while hoping to distract her from the pain, when your big brother came rushing into the room.

He first took a quick glance at the closed shutters and then leaned against the door for a few seconds to catch his breath. As soon as he approached and was close enough, you jumped on him. However, the moment your hands touched his neck, you felt an instinctive recoil as you touched his sweaty skin under your palms. You also noticed that he smelled pretty bad from the sweat and his breathing was extremely ragged as his heart raced at the speed of light against your ribcage.

“Yuck!” You cried, starting to struggle in his arms. “You stink!”

You heard him growl at your childishness but he still held you briefly before putting you back on the bed next to your sister. The cough that suddenly escaped her lips cut short any beginnings of an argument.

"Big brother, I'm in pain" she moaned weakly between coughs. “My skin turns completely white.”

You crawled over to her to come back and snuggle against her shoulder while retrieving your precious stuffed animal along the way.

"Hold out." he encouraged her confidently while taking one of her hands in his. "Our father is the best doctor in the country. He will cure you."

Yet he was cut off by fireworks coming from outside. The sounds of the festivities were accompanied by the parade with its footsteps and people shouting with joy. In addition, you also heard the big drums of the marching band that accompanied them.

“What’s all the noise outside?” Lammy asked.

“There's the festival.” Law replied as if it were obvious. "Flevance is still prosperous. Get well soon, and we'll go see it."

Under your happy gaze, your sister began to smile despite the white spots that appeared on her face. A powerful wave of happiness tickled your stomach as you were reassured: if Law said so, then there was no doubt that Lammy would soon be back on her feet and you could finally all go to the Flevance's festival together.

You then went to snuggle your head back into your stuffed animal but you suddenly heard a loud drumming sound before people started running in the corridors. The steps were so coordinated with each other that they formed a very rhythmic two-step melody, like the parade.

tap - tap

tap - tap

tap - tap

A cloud of fireworks echoed in the corridors and a laugh rose up your throat, caused by the rise of the happy memories you had from the festival of previous years, but everything suddenly went black in your field of vision.

Panicked, you immediately jumped up on the mattress to look everywhere around you.

You thought for a few seconds of calling your big brother, still a little reassured to feel Lammy's body under your fingers, but a slight beam of light appeared before you could make the slightest sound. A long vertical opening opened in the bedroom shutter and a flickering orange glow seeped into the room to shower the floor with a thin rectangle of light.

The color quickly caught your attention because the street lamps normally cast a soft white light.

However, you didn't pay any more attention as soon as you noticed the round shadow of Law's hat blocking part of the lighting before approaching you. Arriving at the bed, you saw that he had his finger placed against his sealed lips.

A new burst of fireworks exploded in the corridor.

Except this time, you felt the wall shake slightly against your back.

Now that there was no more noise behind the wall and your older brother didn't seem to want you to talk, you listened. It was the first time since your very first visit to the hospital that you heard such silence in the corridors. And, considering you came almost every day to see your parents at work, that was pretty impressive.

Then, after a while without the slightest sound, you heard the parade moving away again.

tap - tap

tap - tap

tap - tap

Law’s breath brushed your cheek as he released his breath. You noticed at the same time that, without knowing why, you had also retained yours.

Your big brother got up from the mattress and took your hands to pull you from the bed towards the large wardrobe. He gently pulled the door open, in order to avoid squeaking the hinges that all three of you knew were noisy, then lent his hand to Lammy so that she could obediently climb inside.

You shook your head in refusal when he came closer to you, still locked in his silence, but he still picked you up by the waist before putting you directly in the closet.

You too, when you will be 10, will be strong enough to carry him like that!

“Hide here for a while!” He ordered in his I-am-the-eldest tone before closing the door.

And, even though you didn't see why you had to stay in the closet, you agreed to stay there without a sound. It didn't seem like hide-and-seek so it shouldn't have been a game. You stayed listening to the big drums that resonated outside with the fireworks.

They didn't make the same sounds as in previous years so you couldn't wait to see what they looked like. Were they a different color? You prayed in your heart that it would be black fireworks because, like your big brother, you loved this color.

Unfortunately, at this thought, a shiver of fear went up your spine.

You began to desperately feel around in the complete darkness of the closet. On your knees, you repeatedly placed your hands all over the floor but you couldn't find your stuffed animal. Tears welled up in your eyes. Immediately, you crawled as best you could to the door which you pushed very slowly.

If Law knew you disobeyed him, he would be angry at you.

But the little flickering orange light from outside also brought a small ray of light to your cubby, so, already seeing more, you turned over on your stomach before wriggling to get one leg out of the furniture. You let your lower limb hang in the void outside the cupboards, the floor of which was too high for your little legs.

"What are you doing?" asked Lammy, of whom you could only see part of her face as she grabbed your wrist.

“Virus is on the bed.” you explained to her.

The flu on your wrist eased and you let yourself slide to the floor thanks to the weight of your leg stretched outside the closet. Your heart beat a little faster as you fell, only to calm down again when you had both feet on the ground again. You took a quick look around—only to realize that Law was no longer in the room—before rushing to the bed. However, your problem did not end there because, very quickly, you realized that your cat was no longer in the blankets.

So you returned to the wardrobe, where you leaned your head inside.

“Virus isn’t here,” you declared in the darkness of the closet. “I’ll pick it up and come back!”

Then, without waiting for her response, you closed the door before heading towards the hallway. Your cat was on the bed before the lights went out. You only saw one reason for its disappearance: Law had taken it from you.

Slowly, you opened the bedroom door and entered the silent corridor.

You quickly realized that it was as dark as the room you had just left and, moreover, what little you saw seemed quite murky. It was a bit like looking through a veil. A smell of grilling tickled your nostrils but you didn't pay attention to it. You also noticed that it was oddly warm all of a sudden.

You found yourself alone in the dark in the hospital which was not as usual. In a word, you were terrified.

Not wanting to stay there for too long, you were relieved when you heard footsteps echoing down the hall. You were so relieved that you started running towards them without thinking while trying not to look around. You were too scared and you just wanted to find your brother and your cat.

You then ignored as best you could the unhinged doors which, instead of being well installed as usual, were now lying half torn off against the walls like overturned shelves. You also avoided turning your eyes towards all the little black holes on the partitions that you saw showing through in the darkness.

Finally, at the end of the hallway, you noticed your older brother crying.

The ball of terror that had already been eating at your stomach until now began to nibble at your belly even more. Your legs picked up the pace, not wanting to be alone anymore.

You then arrived in front of another door, which was not like usual, and you saw your big brother lying there. Light shone through the broken window in front of you while the torn purple curtains did nothing to stop it. You also noticed almost immediately the other black holes that were everywhere on the walls here. A repetitive puck-puck echoed in the room from the bag of liquid punctured a few meters from you. You saw Virus' head sticking out of Law's back pocket before really taking in the scene that was unfolding before your eyes.

And what struck you the most was your trembling big brother's body in front of you while enormous moans of agony were heard in the room.

You moved closer, terrified and not understanding what was happening, until you found yourself a few steps away from him and saw what he was lying on. You first perceived your mother's brown hair and her eyes closed against your father's shoulder, while he was on his back with his empty eyes rolled back.

Your stomach knotted painfully, making you double over in pain, and tears welled up in your eyes.

This was sadly a bad idea because, as you looked down, you noticed a pool of dark red blood extending from beneath your parents until it quickly approached your own shoes. Panicked, you took a step back so as not to get any on your soles.

"Mom! Dad!" your big brother yelled next to you, lost in his world.

“Law?” you uncertainly called him with the ridiculous hope that he would reassure you. All of this was just a bad dream and you were going to wake up in your bed to the smell of waffles or pancakes made by your mother.

But you only saw your big brother jump before turning towards you with a horrified face. His wide eyes and his pale complexion were enough to tell you that he was in no better condition than you. His distorted mouth also didn't have time to yell at you for escaping from your hiding place when the footsteps of the parade quickly returned.

tap - tap

tap - tap

tap - tap

“There’s one left!” yelled a muffled voice, no doubt alerted by Law's previous cries.

He then moved so quickly that it was as if he had been electrocuted. He immediately jumped off the motionless, embracing bodies of your parents before lunging towards you. He pulled you violently towards the window then, without waiting, he climbed onto a chair and held you by the waist before pushing you through the broken window. However, he didn't throw you hard enough because you hit your knees quite deeply against the broken glass.

You nevertheless manage to land on the other side.

And it was at this moment that the fireworks started again, whistling painfully in your ears while your knees began to burn as well. But Law landed next to you and quickly took your hand before starting to run at full speed.

His pace was so fast that you sometimes felt your legs give way under you but the grip on your arm was such that, even if you were no longer touching the ground, your brother was carrying you with him. Your chest began to ache from the effort and it was like your lungs were turning into dried raisins, unable to fill themselves with air. Your breathing sounded like a whistle, but you were still unable to stop.

Too caught up in fear, you heard footsteps crossing behind you as well as fireworks being fired in your direction.

"Don't let them get away! Eliminate them!" shouted an almost imperceptible voice in the hubbub of the explosions.

One brushed against your leg and, despite the pain, you continued running.

Law eventually took you back to the town bridge and, as you went to cross it, he instead guided you towards the river it overlooked. He suddenly pulled you towards his foundations then pressed himself against the white stone wall while pressing you against him. With your back against his stomach, you felt his hand slip in your neck before pushing against your mouth. He covered it for you like this until your wheezing was completely muffled against his palm. Despite the fear that twisted your stomach, you were even more petrified the moment you felt his hand tremble against your face just as his chest trembled like a leaf against your back.

The footsteps reappeared again, but before you could react, you heard them pass across the bridge above you and quickly move away.

When your brother released you, the pain from your cuts was excruciating. Where they burned you before, they now scratched you as if a whole tribute of ants had taken up residence there to swarm everywhere under your skin. The blood that ran down your legs before drying into crusts also made you feel tight after having tickled you.

But Law ignored this and began to leave toward downtown Flevance.

A lump of anxiety settled in your throat as you didn't want to be alone in these conditions that you didn't understand. So you started to trot, ignoring your pain, in order to reach your big brother who was walking straight in front of him. He seemed anesthetized. You joined him after several steps which tired you much more than expected.

You then crossed all the streets with their buildings that you knew like the school, the house of your friends or even the ones of other members of your family further away.

You were shocked to see the immense flames that rose from the houses to devour the walls until they collapsed with immense crashes. The black smoke escaping from it was also so dark that it blended into the fire-illuminated night sky.

Everything around you was red: the ground, the walls, the reflections in the water and the sky.

Distracted by the infernal picture that surrounded you, you stumbled against an irregularity in the ground. You then suddenly came across the obstacle and, when you looked down, you found yourself face to face with some little blonde pigtails that you had already seen before. You reached out a trembling hand and used it to brush the hair out of the girl's face. Unfortunately, her position must have been unstable because her body, until then curled up pitifully on its side, rolled limply onto its back.

You were then able to recognize this expressionless face and these eyes where no light was shining through.

Extinct, you saw her again as she accompanied you home every Tuesday and Thursday evening, as usual, to help you with your homework afterwards. You recognized her with her characteristic pigtails with which you always saw her, whether it was sunny or rainy.

And now she stood there, as gloomy as an empty shell, staring at the stars without seeing them in her uniform wich was torn and stained with blood and dust. Dark patches of blood had also spread into her hair where it dyed them a darker color while holding them like straw. Additionally, her skin was a strange bluish color with purple spots on her hand and her shoulders had been pinned against the ground.

Nearby, you heard Law start to cry and scream again in front of all the corpses around you. It didn't take long for you to recognize them all as his classmates. After all, Flevance was a small town where everyone knew each other from birth.

Suddenly, a huge commotion sounded behind you. The sound was so loud that you had to cover your ears.

You then turned towards the origin of the noise and, in the distance, you saw that the flames were starting to spread across the landscape from where you had come. Immediately, you noticed Law's back running in that direction.

You tried to follow him but your weakening knees refused to get up.

"Big brother!" you called out to him as loud as you could, panicking.

But your scream was lost in the crackling flames and the silhouette of your brother moved away until it completely disappeared in the chaos. Tears then flowed freely down your soot-covered cheeks.

You were alone in the middle of the flames.

You didn't know what was happening to you

Your father and mother were dead.

Everything you had ever known was burning.

Sobs choked your throat so, in search of comfort, you grabbed in despair the first hold that came to hand: that of the girl who used to help you with your homework.

Her fingers were stiff and her skin cold as snow but, despite how disgusted it made you, you desperately needed a reassuring touch. You squeezed her hand into yours and it was almost like squeezing a stone.

Cold.

Hard.

Impersonal.

The heat of the furnace slowly began to become more and more unbearable. The skin on your face was so tight that you felt like it was going to break on your cheeks any minute. Your tears in your eyes also made it difficult for you to see anything besides the blur.

Finally, after a while, you saw a black silhouette appear in your field of vision.

However, you no longer had the strength to do anything for yourself so you remained frozen in place. The body got closer little by little and gradually darkened everything you saw through the blur. A hand suddenly touched your shoulder and, terrified, you jumped before raising your head.

"Please!" You didn’t even know what you were begging for. "Please!"

And, instead of responding, the figure fell to their knees in front of you before taking you in their arms. With your nose in the stranger's neck, you immediately recognized the smell of your big brother mixed with the ones of sweat and fire.

You immediately closed your arms around him.

It was then that you felt wetness on your neck with drops of water tracing their path to your collarbones. The grip around you tightened until it was painful but you didn't care.

Your knees hurt from the injuries, your legs refused to move from running, your head and eyes throbbed from crying, and last but not least, your heart was in pieces. So your brother's embrace, even though painful, was completely welcome.

“Lammy is-” he started in a shaky voice before he cut himself off and a fresh burst of tears fell down your neck. "She's-"

Pain exploded in your chest as you understood roughly what Law probably meant.

“The hospital burned down.” he declared painfully.

Understanding then fell like a sledgehammer to your head.

Devastated, you remained crying among the corpses until early morning. You were then interrupted by new footsteps, which returned much more calmly than the day before. Law was the first to hear them and, without waiting, he lifted you onto his back before starting to run.

Thus tossed around, you did not immediately notice when you later saw a horse harnessed to a cart a few meters from you.

No one else was in sight.

Law thus went around the means of transport but froze when he arrived at the back. In front of you stood a pile of corpses thrown pell-mell into the cart. Arms, legs and heads could be seen here and there in the melee. Everything was covered in ashes, soot and blood. The smell was also unbearable, making you nauseous, while a large number of large black flies were circling around them.

You recognized a hand with nails painted a familiar color but you couldn't remember its origin.

You leaned back, anticipating Law's turn around but, to your surprise, he continued his way towards the cart. You widened your eyes before tapping his shoulder several times out of nervousness.

"What are you doing?" you asked hurriedly.

"It's the only way." he announced to you before placing you next to the cart.

He turned towards the pile of bodies then lifted one of them on top as best he could before looking towards you expectantly.

"Come on!" he hurried to you with fear clouding his gaze. He looked around you several times. “They could come at any time!”

But, since you still didn't move, he kept the corpse raised with one hand in order to grab you by the arm with the other. He pulled you violently towards the pile of bodies and made you climb it brutally before almost throwing you under the dead body which he released on you. A shiver of disgust went up your spine at the feeling of the cold and rigid weight crushing against your back.

Beneath you, an elbow dug into your ribs.

You suddenly felt Law shove something soft into your outstretched hand and, looking in, you saw Virus resting quietly there. You immediately brought your hand—and your stuffed animal—back to your face and buried your nose in his warm, cozy stomach which still smelled like home.

Disconnected, you barely noticed when Law lifted another corpse a few bodies away from you to stand under it and not move.

After an interminable wait, someone finally arrived and you heard a snap before the cart started moving. Little by little, you noticed that you were leaving the city center, then the barbed wire walls that had been installed around the city a few months ago.

You then passed near a forest.

Something warm and soft came into contact with your hand and gave it a light pressure. You then felt the contact break before noticing your brother slipping out of the pile of dead bodies to the ground even though the horse was still moving.

In your turn, you let yourself slide.

As soon as you had both feet on the ground, he grabbed your hand and started running towards the trees.

Miraculously, no one noticed you.

You were saved.

/!\ 𝖔𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖘𝖆𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 /!\

A few weeks later, Law returned to your hideout with his arms full of provisions of all kinds such as berries, mushrooms and a rabbit. He carefully placed them on the ground near the entrance before approaching the back of your hiding place with haste.

He had left you there while he had left looking for something to eat, lying on the ground and agonizing.

Your little five-year-old body had been pale and sweaty for several days while your temperature had skyrocketed. Law knew that every time he lifted the thin blanket covering you, he would find two gaping, infected wounds on your knees.

He recognized all the signs, having learned them from his father, but he didn't have the equipment to treat you.

He had the theoretical knowledge but he was doomed to watch the skin around the wounds become more and more red and swollen until, a few days ago, it began to ooze.

Unfortunately, when he came back to you that day, it was to find your pale and cold body waiting for him with your stuffed animal resting on your chest as your only comfort.

Your chest which no longer showed any movement.

He knew in that moment that you would never open your eyes again.

He collapsed.

°˖✧ Salut ✧˖°

I just wanted to warn that this is the first times that I have written texts with a somewhat horrific style, so I am sorry if you got excited about the title for nothing and were disappointed. I'm also not a consumer of horror material because I'm a big—huge, you can't even imagine how much—sissy, then the stories risk not being very original.

So, if you see points that can be improved, don't hesitate to let me know so that I can get better. Thanks! ~

𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖘𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓-𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖕𝖎𝖊𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖐. 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖆 𝖑𝖔𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖚𝖓 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖓𝖏𝖔𝖞𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔!

𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊!

𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123

[sailorshadzter]

some jonsa cause it's been a MINUTEEEEE.

She's lost, torn between the waking world and one of dreams.

A light snowfall drifts down from the darkened skies above, the wind not quite howling, but it is enough to send a shiver down her spine. There beneath the canopy of red weirwood leaves, she recalls the last moments of a life left behind, of one which she rushed to leave, of one she now can only wish to go back to. If only back then... If only...

"Sansa?"

Her eyes open and suddenly she's no longer lost.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Jon says as he approaches where she sits, a heap of black skirts and gray furs beneath the heart tree. His heart twists at the sight of the snow that dusts both her shoulders and hair, telling him she's sat there for some time now. Pale faced, she smiles all the same, those exquisite blue eyes of hers shining in the shifting winter sunlight that peeks down from behind a cloud. Soon the sun would sink beneath the horizon and the moon would rise high, the pale, silver light a constant reminder of her. Kissed by fire, her hair might seem, she is all moonlight. "I hadn't seen you since supper ended," he goes on, a hand to the back of his head, suddenly feeling sheepish there in her presence. Just how did she have this control over him?

"You aren't," she assures with another smile, gesturing for him to join her where she sits. He does, taking place beside her, just close enough that she can feel the warmth of him. "I only meant to be out here a moment, but I guess I lost track of time..." Now that she thinks about it, she can't recall just how long she's been down here beneath the heart tree. "Once I might never have come down here," she goes on with a sigh, tipping her head back to peer up at the dancing leaves above, the wind rustling them with a near silent gust. "I wish father was here, to give me his wisdom." These words come quickly and quietly, the sharp pang of grief clutching at her heart. She closes her eyes against it and once again, she is lost.

There are no words for him to say that might take away her pain, despite him feeling that very same pain, deep in his own heart. When we see each other again, I will tell you about your mother, those had been their father's last words to him, words than Jon had carried with him until the moment the news of Ned Stark's death had reached him so far North at Castle Black. Truthfully, the pain of knowing he would never know the truth of his mother did not hurt nearly as much as the pain of knowing he would never again see their father did. "I imagine he would say... When the snow falls and the white wind blows..."

"The lone wolf dies but the pack survives," she finishes along with him, tilting her head back so she can look at him beside her. A chuckle escapes her lips and she swears for a single moment that it was their father speaking, not Jon, not her. "We're all that's left of the pack," she speaks softly, sadly, unable to cling to the hope that any of their siblings were left out there. All they had left was each other, just as Jon had said that first day back in Winterfell, and so they had to take care of one another, had to trust in one another.

Jon holds steady to her gaze, knowing without a doubt that there would be nothing, nothing at all, that would keep him from keeping her safe. There was not a single thing in this world that would keep him from standing beside her, from protecting her from their enemies and the darkness that tries to desperately to keep its hold upon her. "And we'll survive," he says quietly. For the family they've lost, they would survive, the Stark name would never die. Not so long as they both yet lived. "I'll keep you safe," he says, a reminder of the words they once shared in the tent the night before the battle with Ramsay.

"I know," she says, because this time, she truly believes him.

She would never doubt him again.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 11 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (10)

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Home

Walking slow, you keep up the pace of a heavily pregnant Aslaug. The news of the child on its way came on the last day of the feast for your wedding and it was well-received by everyone. The snow falling gives Kattegat an amazing look, with everything painted white. The ocean is starting to freeze, but there are still boats coming and going, doing the last trades by sea before the ice keeps them away, having to endure the walk instead of sailing here.

Heading to the main hall, you stop when Aslaug stops, a hand on her swollen belly. “Everything alright?”

“Yes. I just need to lie down for a while.” She answers, setting in motion again. “Ragnar sons are always–” She's cut short once you enter the hall, the high number of people gathered around getting both your attentions. “Did something happen?” She asks, raising her voice. Ragnar comes to stand beside her, very protective ever since he found about the pregnancy.

You make your way to where Ivar is, seated on Ragnar's throne. “What's going on?” You ask him. “Bad news?”

“Boats were seen sailing this way.” He answers, gesturing, and dismissing the men. “With your brother's flag.”

“What the hell does Aethelwulf want?” Shrugging your shoulders, you stand beside Ivar, who takes your hand and places a kiss on it.

“Ask father.” He says, clearly annoyed.

Raising an eyebrow, you look at Ragnar. “Last raid I might have left implied that you were here on Kattegat, so... I think they came to take you back.”

“Why would you do that?” You inquire, hands on your hips.

“They were really pissing me off.” Ragnar justifies, and you roll your eyes.

“Are they coming for war?”

“No,” Bjorn says, entering the hall and dusting off his clothes from the snow. “I don't think they're planning on battle us, on our ground, with such few people.”

“Good. It means I can just tell them I don't wanna go and they'll leave.” Sighing, you look at Ivar. “And here I was planning on asking you to take me on the next raid.” You complain to Ivar, shooting Ragnar an angry glance. “England came to me.”

“Missing home?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I want to sail for weeks, stay on a camp in the woods for the entire summer for any other reason than to staying with you?” Faking an annoyed tone, you raise an eyebrow at Ivar.

Giggling, he bites his lip, nodding his head. “My mistake, princess.” Winking, he turns his attention back to his father. “Let's do what we have to do and get this tiny problem out of our lives so I can enjoy winter with my wife.”

“Speaking of enjoying the winter, I'll fix myself a warm bath and I hope you to join me.” With that, you turn around and head inside, ignoring the low chattering your words caused.

The word got out, you think, about Ivar being able to perform sexually. But since you were the first one to know, you don't mind the gossip.

The girls don't take much time to get everything ready, and you let them help you undress before you step into the tub. You always use Ivar's tub now, since you just moved into his bedroom after the wedding. As if you weren't sleeping here before. A few moments later you hear Ivar coming inside, taking off his clothes before joining you, making the hot water spill off when he moves inside, settling down next to you.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispers, immediately pulling you into a kiss, and you can't help but smile as you cave in, running a hand through his chest.

“Thank you, handsome.” You mutter when you pull away to breathe, biting your lip.

“Won't you even consider it?” You don't follow, so you pinch your eyebrows together, looking at your husband.

“Consider what?”

“Going back home.” There's fear in his voice, and that's a sentiment he only shows to you.

Ever since the announcement, Ivar has been listening to some rude things. People are mean, some of them at least. They say you'll leave him, trade him for a full man. That you'll get tired of him soon enough. You've been into awful arguments with some people about it, and Ivar have nearly killed a man a few weeks ago. With time, these comments are fading away, but it always gets to him. And when it happens, it's your mission to reassure him your love hasn't changed, it has only gotten bigger.

“I am home.” Caressing his cheek, you smile. “This is where I belong.” Your voice fades when you remember you have something to tell Ivar. It's been a while since you've been feeling odd, and your period is very late. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something.”

He furrows his eyebrows, a question on his face. “What is it?”

You know he wants kids, you've always knew. And you've been waiting until you're sure. And you're kinda sure at this point. “Ivar, I... I may be with child.” Speaking low, barely a whisper, you focus on his expression, trying to read it.

But you don't need too much. Ivar's lips break into a smile, and he kisses you deeply, until you're out of breath. “I'll be a father.” He says when you pull away.

“Yes, you will. And if it depends on me, you'll have a bunch of children, my love.” You can't wait to tell everyone, to let them know Ivar can do what they all doubted.

“I love you, (Y/N). More than everything.”

“We need to talk names now.” Giggling, you caress his face. “Everyone will have a suggestion.”

“We'll have to do it later.”

“Later? Why? Are you planning on doing anything now?” Smirking, you don't need any other answer than the kiss he gives you, and suddenly all the rest is put aside for a moment.

°°°

Hours later, when the sun is about to set, you're at the docks, watching as the two boats approach. A great number of people came too, of course, to see how it'll play out. There are soldiers, ready to fight if that's the case, but if it depends on you, it won't come to that. It doesn't look like they're here for war.

It gets your attention when one of the men, standing on the edge of the ship, recognizes you. He raises his eyebrows, but you don't show any expression. Slowly, he and a few men step out of the boat, eyes scanning through the Vikings, ready to defend themselves and their leader. That's when you recognize the man, Sir Wilfred, one of your father's man, now working for your older brother. He was kind to you, so you don't have your walls all the way up.

“Princess (Y/N).” He greets you with a small smile, taking your hand and placing a kiss on it. “It's a true blessing to find you alive and... Well.”

“It's good to see you too, Sir. Hope you made a safe trip here. But may I ask why did you and such a small army bothered to sail all the way to Kattegat?” Cutting straight to the point, you offer him a small smile. Ivar, who stands beside you, gets a worried stare from Wilfred, and you can feel his anger emanating.

“King Aethelwulf, your brother, sent us. After Ragnar Lothbrok told him you were here, brought by your own will, he decided to give you a chance to reconquer your old life, as a princess, by his side.” There's more than he's saying because you know your brother. It doesn't sound like something he would say. Aethelwulf wants you back because he can't even begin to imagine who would want to stay here. And he's ego demands him to try and get you back, so he can present you to his court, telling them how you came back to your senses and abandoned the barbarians.

“Tell my brother I have no intention of leaving Kattegat.” You begin, getting a weird expression from Wilfred, and some of his men start gossiping with each other. “I made myself a home here, among the Vikings. I even married one.” Gesturing at Ivar, you have to bite back the laugh that threatens to emerge at the surprise on Wilfred's face. “This is Ivar the Boneless, my husband and the father of the child I'm carrying. And I believe you know him very well Sir.”

“My princess, I don't understand–”

“I'm thankful for this... Rescue party you brought with you across the ocean, but I don't need to be rescued.” Cutting him off, you step back a little, gesturing at the people who stand behind you. “This is my place now, my people. My house, my King and Queen, my husband and friends. I'm not being held against my will. In fact, I didn't come against my will.” You raise your voice, so all of his men will listen, so the truth can find a way to your brother's ears. “With the same people you call soulless, barbarians, monsters, I found great happiness, something that I never had back in England. And I apologize if you had to endure such a journey for nothing, but I won't be going with you. And, just in case you were ordered to take me by force, I must advise you not to try it. Because you will lose.”

“My princess, those aren't the orders,” Winfred speaks again, clearly uncomfortable. “King Aethelwulf commands that, if you are indeed here by your own will, and refuses to return home, he will tell your people you died, and never again you'll find refuge in his kingdom.

Laughing a little, you shrug your shoulders. “So be it.” You simply say, looking at Ivar, who has a smile on his lips. “I'm not going anywhere.” You tell most to your husband than to anyone else. “It was good to see you one last time, Sir Wilfred.” But now I must ask you and your men to sail away from Kattegat. Your presence here isn't welcome.”

“I wouldn't stay even if you invited me, Prin... (Y/N).” He quickly corrects himself, and the change of humor makes you giggle.

“I wasn't planning on inviting you, Sir. Have a safe trip back to England.” Nodding at him, you turn around, walking away with Ivar next to you. Everyone steps out of your way, and you notice how some of Ragnar's men take a position to follow the Saxons back to their ship and until they're far enough from the town.

The commotion soon stays behind as you make your way back home, the wind, which gets colder by the day, messing with your hair.

“I love both of you,” Ivar says, out of nowhere, making you stop on your tracks by the main hall's entrance.

“What's that now?” Squinting your eyes, you stare at him, a chuckle caught in your throat.

“You make me happy. Like I never thought I'd be.” He comes closer, a hand on your belly. “This child is the very image of what we feel. And I never thought I'd ever love someone this much. Or that someone would love me even though–”

“Well, I love you. Just the way you are.” Your heart warms up at his smile, genuine and kind. “Now, let's get inside. It's getting cold.” Taking his hand, you pull him inside.

Many things are on the way now. The child, the raids, on which you do want to go every once in a while. The road is long and full of surprises, but you're willing to enjoy every step of the way. You never thought this would be how your life turned out, but as crazy as it is, it's good. It's the proof that love and happiness can be found in the most unexpected places, and you found both those things in a town across the world, with people who live in a completely different culture, in very different ways. But you would do it all over again, and now that you're here, you'll never take things for granted. You'll never trade this for anything else, not even for the throne of Wessex. This is far more valuable than all the crowns of the world.

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @msrawog @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

[amostimprobabledream]

And He Walks With Flames (Dabi x Reader) -Part Three

The old man is still talking, his voice flattening to a self-important drone, but Dabi isn’t listening.

He tends to pick and choose when he tuned into the miserable old fuck's ramblings, since he knew most of it would amount to nothing in the end. It would soon all be ashes. Since he'd been brought to this sterile shithole, he'd entertained himself with fantasies of exactly how he was going to kill the old man and those crawling little assistants of his - and oh, didn't Dabi have so many options to choose from? The thought makes his fingers twitch with excitement, like they are flexing of their own accord in anticipation of the event.

But that, too, has eventually gotten boring. That was something they didn't often mention about captivity – its fucking tedious whenever you don't have humans in white coats poking at you or running their little tests with their precious machines. If Dabi wasn’t keenly aware of how temporary this all was, and since he knows he’s too powerful for them to really be able to hurt him, he probably would have lost it a long time ago. He never did take too kindly to being…restrained.

So imagine his joy, his fucking glee, when the idiot humans had actually done as he demanded and brought you here to him, like a lamb to the slaughter. Oh, Dabi may be behind a barrier and have those magitech guns pointed at his head, just waiting for an excuse to open fire, but that doesn’t matter. Just as long as he can see you again, he was prepared to tolerate doing so with restrictions in place.

For now.

You stood there, gazing up at him with a dark scowl forming on your pretty little face at the pet name, just as he'd suspected you would. Yet it felt quite natural to him, wrapping around you in a veil of false intimacy he knew would make you squirm.

The very fact he wasn't supposed to have even laid eyes on someone like you made it all the more hilarious to Dabi that he'd been able to demand your presence here before him, all with the threat of sinking back into his unresponsive state if not properly indulged. Even behind this barrier and with all the little enchantments cast on the place, he held plenty of sway. Getting humans to dance to his tune was something he never tired of doing. Their false sense of superiority over him would be their undoing.

"Don't call me that." you snap at him in a bitchy tone, narrowing your eyes a fraction. He wonders if that’s supposed to be intimidating.

"Mm? You don't like that?" Dabi asks in a mock-apologetic tone, his smile nothing less than scornful as he tilts his head. "What should I call you? Angel? Baby? Honey? I'm all ears, princess."

You open your mouth to bite back at him and he wants to laugh - you're clearly not accustomed to being spoken to like that and it only makes him want to do it more. Such a spoiled little thing. Getting you all huffy and flustered, such a sharp contrast to your smart, academic clothing and attempts at maintaining a detached demeanour, is the best entertainment he's had in weeks. You’re so damn cute when you’re annoyed.

"We brought the girl as you asked, demon," interrupts Fuji, and Dabi feels a vein of irritation puncture his pleasure at teasing you. He's had enough of the Director's voice to last him a lifetime, which is unfortunate since the old fuck seems disinclined to shut his mouth any time soon - he does like to hear himself talk. "Now will you co-operate with us?"

"You really are interested in me, aren't you?" Dabi hums, tail swaying laconically behind him. "How flattering. Or...could it be you're hamstrung by your lack of options? Hmm? Seems like I'm the only demon you've got in here. How pitiful."

"That's awfully confident talk, considering you're the one currently being held captive." Director Fuji replies casually, and Dabi snorts softly but with derision. "And here I thought demons could sense one another - either this facility is better fortified than I had thought, or you're overestimating your powers."

"Perhaps." Dabi replies lazily, as if this is of no concern to him.

You bite your lip as you watch this exchange.

You had expected Dabi to fly into a rage at that. Weren't demons supposed to be famously volatile? Either he's unusually composed for his species, or the ancient depictions of demons have a rather more extreme point of view than previously thought. Then again, no doubt Dabi knows that excessively aggressive behaviour on his part will result in some pretty painful magical retaliation and doesn't care to risk it, or he just doesn't think the Director is worthy of his rage. And no doubt the humans who used to fight demons in the history books would certainly see them far more monstrous than the detached viewpoint of a scholar who has likely never even seen one.

Yet even with all these safety measures, you cannot help but feel uneasy with Director Fuji casually divulging this information to Dabi. Knowing that he has potential allies somewhere in the building may well encourage him to act out, maybe even mount an escape attempt. From what Father has said, of all the demon specimens the facility has managed to acquire, Dabi is the anomaly. Is it because he's the strongest of all of them, or merely the most human-like? For all you know, there could be a horde of the terrifying, red-skinned beings depicted in your textbooks chained up in the basement. The thought makes a shiver crawl down your spine.

Dabi’s eyes turn back to yours and you stiffen.

“Why did you want me here?” you say, deciding to cut him off before something else obnoxious spills from his mouth, which seems to be an occupational hazard when it comes to this guy. “What’s the point?”

Dabi shrugs elegantly, tail flicking.

“Why not? You weren’t supposed to be in here at all, were you? Yet in you marched like you had every right. It made me curious. Plus, it’s nice to see a decent pair of tits around here.”

You know he expects you to squawk and flounce out in a huff, so you stays rooted to the spot, still scowling at him. The urge to cover your chest is strong, but you manage to overpower it, aware of how still the room has gone. It’s like only you and Dabi exist, and the thought is both frightening and oddly exhilarating – among all these scientists and supposed brilliant minds, you’re the only one he cares to speak to. He answered Dr. Fuji’s questions, yes, but he barely even looked at him. You’re the one he directly spoke to. That gives you some modicum of power, even if you’re not sure how best to use it just yet. “You don’t frighten me, demon.” You make sure to tell him calmly.

Dabi quirks an eyebrow at that.

“Oh?”

The word is loaded with tension, a little hiss on the syllable that makes you shiver, but you know he can’t do anything to you in his cage. So, you tilt your head back and offer him a bland, beatific smile.

“Sure, you might have some strong demon magic. That’s par the course for demons as humanoid-looking as you. I know quite a bit about demonology, you see. Not like these scientists with their tests and machines, but in other ways. It’s an interesting subject, and one you interrupted me from by making me come here with some pathetic attempts to get under my skin.”

You give a shrug.

“But you’ve overplayed your hand. Now everyone here knows you can speak and understand everything they say. No more treating you with kid gloves, so I guess that means there’s a lot more tests coming your way now. But really, how powerful can you be?”

Your smile widens into a smirk as you go in for the kill. He wanted you to come here? Then that was exactly what he’d get – you weren’t some trembling coward who would stand there like a deer in headlights just because a big bad demon spoke to you. You were your mother’s daughter, after all.

“After all, you’re the one behind bars.”

There’s silence. A silence that blankets the lab like snow, and Dabi’s smile remains in place, but his eyes are cold and piercing as they stare at you. You feel tingles erupting through your body, like you’ve narrowly avoided being bitten by a wolf and are only inches away from its jaw still. One of the assistant researchers is outright staring at you, open-mouthed, like you’ve suddenly sprouted a tail, or your skin has turned blue or something else miraculous and inexplicable.

"Director, we'll be taking our leave now." Father says beside you, making you jump.

To be honest, you had completely forgotten he was there. Evidently, he isn’t comfortable with the way the demon behind bars is looking at you either, even if you think it’s a little late for that. Still, he’s glaring at his boss with an unusually fierce look of disapproval on his face.

"Our part in this is over."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, fine." Director Fuji says, not even glancing at the pair of you, far too excited that he’s gotten the response he wanted from Dabi to care. "You may leave."

Relief washes over you and you risk a grateful glance at Father. Perhaps he feels bad that his forgetfulness caused this in the first place, and it's spurred him to go against the Director's whims for once, but he's right, you hardly need to be here now that Dabi is apparently feeling conversational and you're only too happy to get back out into the afternoon air.

The rush of relief doesn't last long, though, and you mourn its absence because, as you turn to go, a voice calls out to you, lashing around you like a lasso. Despite yourself, perhaps because you don't want it to look like Dabi frightens you - don't want to admit he does - you look back.

Those eyes. Whenever you look at Dabi you can see he's powerful, but you don't spend a lot of time thinking about the various forms power can take, the nuances of it. But when your gaze meets his, you feel like you've been pulled under by a whirlpool. Everything around you, the lab, the director, your father, all of it disappears and only he remains. Only he is what matters. That look burns everything else away, whispering promises to you that you don't want to hear.

So why are you listening?

"I'll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart." Dabi says in a low voice, like it's meant exclusively for you. "Real soon."

Anger unfurls inside you like a flower. Who does this…specimen think he is? He certainly can talk big, but the reality isn't looking so good for him - poked and prodded at by plenty of magically gifted humans and a container built specifically to hold creatures like him. The only reason he got his way today is because the Director couldn't help but indulge his scientific curiosity. But he’s an arrogant bastard to assume he'll be indulged a second time.

That thought in your mind, you sneer and flick your hair back.

"Don't count on it, demon."

Is it your imagination, or did a flicker of something cross his face when he took note of your refusal to call him by name? Maybe you only saw what you wanted to see, but either way it makes you feel a little better, to know something you said bothered him.

You stride out of the lab, knowing he's watching you, that he has no choice but to stand there and watch you disappear from his sight, without knowing if you'll return or not now that the scientists have finally gotten him to speak. He can hardly pretend not to understand them now.

~

Mother was right.

Anybody who is anybody seems to have shown up to the fundraiser tonight.

You smooth down the skirt of your dress, vaguely aware of your palms being a bit on the damp side. It’s not just the amount of people in the room, either - the entire room feels stiflingly humid and you’re glad somebody thought to open the doors to the balcony.

Ribbons of gold are hanging from the ceiling, attached to dozens of balloons. The tables are also draped in gold-coloured tablecloths and everywhere seems to have been polished to within an inch of its life. The dinner won’t start for a while yet and you didn’t eat anything before hand, worried about spilling it or your stomach sticking out unflatteringly. So, you remind yourself to take it easy on the champagne as you snatch up a flute of it from a passing waiter. Still, the drink does taste good as it goes down, bubbles fizzing on your tongue. You press your fingers to your lips with a little smile.

You hear your name being called and glance over to see a figure manoeuvring through the crowd towards you and your smile morphs into a grin.

“Momo!”

She looks ravishing, of course. She always does, in a silver gown that sparkles like a diamond. Her jewellery is simple and understated, but you can tell from a glance that it’s expensive. It’s odd to see her without her trademark ponytail, but it looks great on her. You hate yourself for it, but you can’t help but instantly compare yourself, your clothes, your hair, your style, to hers and wonder how you measure up. You suspect you may be lacking.

You do your best to push those thoughts away – you’re Momo’s friend and you shouldn’t view her looking amazing as some kind of failing on your end. Anyway, it wouldn’t do to get all maudlin right now, not when you have so many people to talk to and things to see.

“You look amazing!” you tell her, giving her a hug. “Is that dress new?”

“Oh…sort of,” Momo shrugs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, beaming shyly at you. Ah, so she used her magic to make it, then. Usually, Momo buys her clothing like everyone else – she’s certainly rich enough to afford it. But every once in a while, she’ll use her magic to create an outfit and it looks like that’s the case tonight. It’s good to know Momo sees this event as important to, that you and Mother aren’t just making a big deal out of nothing. “You look great too, I’ve always liked that necklace on you.”

You touch it, pleased, but you can’t help give her a playful nudge.

“And of course, I bet your parents are looking forward to the auction, right? They could probably afford to buy every lot here, if they wanted to.”

“Don’t be silly!” Momo replies, but she’s giggling. “Though mother did hear about some sort of rare lamp that might have belonged to a djinn that she was fascinated about. And I’m sure there are other things that would be so useful for our magical studies, I hope there are some representatives of the academy here who can participate in the bidding!”

You hadn’t even thought of that – trust the genius Momo to be thinking about the potential of the academy getting their hands on some magical oddities.

“That’s a good point. I’m sure we’ll run into a professor or two,” you say, risking another sip of your champagne. “They party hard, these intellectual types.”

Momo laughs again, and you do too, the mental image of Professor Nedzu getting drunk a pretty hilarious one. You don’t even know if he can drink, but maybe tonight you’ll find out for sure-

“Look!” Momo suddenly whispers.

You hear gasps near the entrance to the building and turn around, eyes widening when you realise who has just walked in. Your mouth falls open.

“It’s him.”

The rumours were true. You don’t know how Mother pulled it off, but when some of the crowd parts, you spot the unmistakable red-and-white head of Prince Shouto Todoroki.

Thought it’s strange for the youngest child to be the heir to the throne, you can admit that there’s an aura to him, a certain stoic regalness to his features. It’s common knowledge that of King Enji’s children, only Prince Shouto is able to use both fire and ice magic, the perfect combination of elements, and it is this reason that he is considered the ‘true heir’. What Princess Fuyumi and Prince Natsuo’s opinions are on being passed over for their supposedly weak magical ability has never been discussed publicly, and the less said of Queen Rei (or ‘the Mad Queen’, as some circles call her in whispers), the better. You did hear a rumour once about someone else. A firstborn Prince who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, but you’ve never put much thought into it. How can a Prince just go missing? Wouldn’t people be looking for him if that were the case? It just seems too farfetched to be true.

“Should we go talk to him?” you blurt out without thinking, yet the idea of inconveniencing the prince in any way fills you with dread.

“Well…” Momo says, also glancing Prince Shouto’s way, and you know it’s not a trick of the light that her cheeks hold the faintest hint of a blush. “Perhaps later, when he isn’t busy? We wouldn’t want to be rude and interrupt him when he’s speaking with important people…”

Right. You wouldn’t want to be rude.

Still, excitement fizzes through you veins as reality hits you full force. You’d been viewing this evening as having a chat with a bunch of stuffy old academics older than your father, but now you’re beginning to understand why Mother had been so insistent on you dressing up and brushing up on conversational topics. Not that you’re out to catch yourself a husband or anything – you’re way too interested in your academic career and honing your magic for that – but that doesn’t mean you’re not interested in doing other things. Especially with people who look like Prince Shouto.

“Momo!” calls a voice, and you make a face. Ugh.

“Oh, it’s Iida and his family!” Momo says, glancing at you, knowing your distaste for your classmate very well. He’s just so pompous and annoying and he always makes lectures drag on far longer than they need to by asking unnecessary questions. “I’ll just go say hello, okay?”

You nod, knowing that a family as well-connected as Momo Yaoyozoru’s means she’s probably going to have to say hello to a lot of people tonight.

“No problem, I’ll catch up to you later.”

She nods at you, a grateful smile on her face, before she moves over to speak to what looks like Iida’s older brother, Tensei. You quickly slip away before the younger brother can spot you, which is easy enough with this many people here. You mill around the room, taking another sip from your champagne. You feel a bit like an actress playing a role, perhaps ‘girl at the party’. As you walk, you pass by a mirror and glance at it, making sure you haven’t smudged your make-up or something.

You have to admit, the dress you’re wearing looks good on you. You found it in the back of your wardrobe after seemingly throwing everything else you own onto your bed. But the searing shade of blue complements your skin tone well, and the style of the dress flatters your figure without being too revealing. You’ve seen a couple of people glance your way, and it feels nice when it’s in a place as wonderful as this. And it’s only for tonight, so there’s no pressure on you to look like this every evening.

Soon the auction for magical artefacts will start, though you’re not planning on buying anything – your parents might not be struggling to make ends meet, but you have student loans to think about. Plus, there’s no way you could afford any of them, especially not with the lords and ladies here when they want something.

As you move further into the hallway, you notice there seem to be stalls and tables, probably merchants flogging their wares. Curious, you move to inspect them. Strange objects lie on a bed of black velvet, some of it recognisable to you, others you’ve never even heard of. The intellectual in you is dying to know more. “Are you enjoying the party?”

You glance up at a voice.

A man, you’d guess he’s in his mid-thirties or so, is watching you from a stall right at the end of the hallway. It’s a bit bigger than the others and you suddenly realise he’s actually sitting in front of a tent of some sort.

“I am, yes,” you reply, moving a little closer to have a look at what he might be selling – just because you have no intention in participating in the auction doesn’t mean you won’t buy anything. “Are you?”

The man smiles and there’s something about him…it’s hard to explain, but you’re both curious and wary. Like every word you’re saying to him is being weighed and measured for every possible meaning, even ones you didn’t intend. Yet he doesn’t look like a merchant trying to sell his wares to rich patrons. There’s something else going on here, and you want to know more.

“I am,” you say, making your tone light and pleasant as you look over the items on the table in front of you. One of them is a crystal ball, and it seems to be the real deal, not one of those knockoffs you sometimes see. “What is it that you’re selling here?”

“I’m a fortune teller of sorts,” the man replies, still wearing that charming smile. “I tell people what may lie ahead. Though I should say for clarity purposes that it is not an exact science.”

“Oh, Tarot cards?” you say, delighted. “I’ve never had my cards read before. Are you still offering readings?”

It might seem a little bit of a strange thing to indulge in at a party, but until you can reunite with Momo, you’re on your own and the auction doesn’t start for a little while yet. Though you know you were invited here, it’s still a little intimidating to walk around among such giants in their respective fields. Especially in such an outfit as the one you’re wearing – usually you dress nicely but comfortably, since you spend most of your time either studying, attending lectures or occasionally going out with your friends. Nobody needs to wear high heels while they’re listening to the origin of magic, for example.

Anyway, you’ve always wanted to do this, why waste the opportunity?

“Certainly,” the fortune teller says, standing up and gesturing. “Please, come inside. I find atmosphere is rather important to properly do a reading and it’s far too noisy out here for appropriate mystique.”

You laugh slightly at that and follow him inside the tent. It’s much bigger inside than it is on the outside – you presume some sort of illusion spell is at work, or perhaps the tent itself is enchanted. It’s dark in here, candles sitting all around the perimeter of the tent. Normally you’d be wary of that being a fire hazard, but looking closer, the flames have an unnaturally white tint to them instead of the usual cheerful yellow, so you assume they’re enchanted to not burn in case of accidents. Anyway, you know enough magic to conjure water if there is one.

“Let’s do this at the table,” the fortune teller says, sitting down and gesturing to the chair opposite. “Would you care for some herbal tea?”

“Oh, no thank you,” you say, relieved to have a good excuse to refuse, holding up your champagne flute. “I don’t think herbal tea and champagne mix.”

He chuckles, bowing his head in acknowledgement.

“I suppose not.”

You sit down opposite the fortune teller, breathing in the fug of incense, a pleasant, slightly spicy smell lingering in the air. The table is covered with a purple cloth, and you notice there are various posters and tapestries covering the walls of the tent, though the lighting isn’t bright enough to make them out well.

You slide over some coins, uncertain of the amount, but your guess is either accurate or the fortune teller judges it fair, because he accepts them with a small smile and a nod but doesn’t comment any further. Instead, he reaches for a black pouch sitting on the table and begins to shuffle the cards in elegant hands, and you notice he’s wearing a ring, a dark pink gemstone winking at you in the candlelight as his hand moves.

He’s right about atmosphere, there’s an ambience here that would have been lost if you had sat down for the reading outside in the loud, crowded, white and gold decorated hallway. In here, in the dark, a secretive hush falls over you and the fortune teller that makes you wriggle in anticipation in your seat. This is the kind of place that goes beyond magical, like something truly mystical could happen here, even if you’re aware that this is just a bit of fun, nothing more. But you don’t want to offend him by not taking it seriously.

He smiles, and spreads the cards across the table, face down. The pattern on the back is pretty, black and silver and faintly gleaming in the dim. The flames atop the candles around the tent flicker, as if they want to lean in to listen to what’s about to unfold. The fortune teller looks at you and his eyes hold yours.

“Shall we begin?”

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Storyboard by: Jean-Sebastien Duclos, Sam King, Jason Reicher

Directed by: Jason Zurek

Dangerous!

We begin this adventure in a dark and stormy night, caused by a villain who calls himself Dr. Atmozfear. GizmoDuck shows up and attempts a one-liner about how he's going to rain on his parade. It's made quite clear this was not his best line, even Dr. Atmozfear points out that he must not really be trying, but Gizmo has an excuse: not only has he spent better one-liners against two other weather-based villains, he is so overworked as a superhero that he couldn't re-up his puns.

Showing that off even more, he gets a phone call right in the middle of this encounter, showing that he's so busy, even explanations about how he's so busy gets interrupted. The villain even says almost exactly that; his other part of his villainy is explaining the joke. He eventually punches him out, and uses the exact same one-liner he used slightly more confidently, much to Dr. Atmozfear's derision. Pointing out your jokes aren't funny isn't usually a good idea, but it does work for the rest of the plot.

After taking care of that umpteenth villain, we see Huey and Webby waiting for Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera to show up. Webby still doesn't know who GizmoDuck's secret identity is, but Huey does, and he desperately tries to keep the secret as Fenton walks out of an alley coincidentally after GizmoDuck crashes into that alleyway and disturbs a cat. Webby connects the dots immediately, and asks Fenton if his GizmoDuck suit has a toilet in it.

Thankfully, he never answers that question, but he does have to add Webby to the growing list of people who know his secret identity. He decides to walk into an electronics store to find a birefringent beam splitter, only to be blasted.

No, not by a ray gun, but by a bunch of TVs. This electronics store decided to have every news channel play at the same time. Yes, I know, it's to show that every news station in Duckberg is talking about that amazing superhero. Well, one of these news reports ends up being very apparent to me, and it's easy to see why.

Tom Kenny: So once again, the day is saved, thanks to Gizmoduck!

I was so glad I wasn't drinking coffee here, because I would have spit it out, got it all over my keyboard, and had yet another excuse to delay a review. It's been so long since I've heard anything like that in a current show, and I didn't expect to hear it here, of all places. Fenton asks around for those birefringent beam splitters, and someone helps him out.

This lady knows what that is, and throws it to him. Fenton just can't believe someone else would know what a birefringent beam splitter is, with the implication that he can't believe that it would be her in particular. She doesn't exactly call him out on it, but she does say that working with hard physics can be hard for a rookie.

Fenton defends himself, saying that he's actually scientist for McDuck Enterprises. Not impressed, she talks about how he's into "sellout science", and that she doesn't kiss up to zillionaires and play by any rules. Eventually, he claims that he's working on a dangerous project for himself, playing himself as if he had a dangerous personality, and, with both curiosity and extreme doubt, she wants to see his lab. Fenton just goes along with it, acting like he's the great inventor for Scrooge McDuck.

While this conversation is happening, a different kind of dot-connecting happens with Huey and Webby. Webby is confused about all of this, but the great student of the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook knows this has to be the romantic courting of adults. This one doesn’t have any separate B-plot, but it’s as close as we get here.

It doesn’t help their interpretation that this lady just took his phone and put her phone number in it, with her name, revealing her as this reboot's version of Gandra Dee. From what I can remember, and from what I could see from reading wikis, this is a very different character than the one from the original outside of the "love interest to Fenton Crackshell" part. So yeah, she bought it.

After the "animated character who only wears one outfit deciding between two identical suits" joke, Huey and Webby respond that he should dress to impress his new date. Fenton denies it, saying this is just a melding of the minds. Sure, it would eventually blossom into a relationship that will last as long as they live, but it's not a date!

M'Ma Cabrera shows up, and ends up giving him dating tips and a nice suit to wear for the date that used to be his father's. Also, if she breaks his heart, she promises to come and dismantle her life. She won't fulfill that promise...yet.

Turns out, it's not just Huey and Webby that's assuming this is a date and not the "melding of the minds" Fenton claims it is, as even Launchpad congratulates him on it. For the first time since Season 1, we see Launchpad being able to park his car after recklessly driving. After wrecking his car for the last few episodes we saw him driving it, it's good to see that gag come back.

Gandra Dee: Nice upgrade, Suit. Yeah, you’re definitely the bad boy of science.

Oh, please don’t remind me of that one episode of the other show. He still tries to play this off as a non-date, and doesn't help anything that the latest hit song that's playing on the radio is "It's A Date (Don't Let Him Fool You)". At least he's comforted, knowing that his "interns” are preparing "his" lab.

...and they prepared an Italian restaurant instead, much to Fenton's disapproval, as this was supposed to be "his" lab that he is totally not just an intern for. As for what happened to the actual inventor for McDuck Enterprises:

Gyro: (locked behind a door, banging) You will rue the day!

Webby shows up as the waiter, telling them about the special of the day: spaghetti! She then begs them to choose that, as that's all they made. Of course, they just want to recreate that scene from Lady and the Tramp. Gandra Dee doesn't have any interest in that spaghetti, and she has to walk away to answer a phone call.

They reveal pretty much right at this moment that Gandra is actually working for...oh, boy, Mark Beaks. I get his gimmick, but he was never a villain I felt joy in seeing. Not helping anything is that he's played as this stalker, constantly giving her phone calls.

She already said she works for herself, but could this just be a cover-up for her being a spy? Not helping anything is that, right before the commercial break, Gyro gets out of that door, and, out of pure instinct, she knocks out Gyro with an electric shock from her hands. How she does that will be explained later.

Beak is also drinking this blue stuff, which he will drink in almost every scene until they reveal what exactly it is. Chances are, considering he's drinking it out of glass vials, it's not Gatorade.

As an aside to all of that Italian restaurant stuff, Fenton gets to show off some of his inventions. There's no implication that at least some of these are actually Gyro's, so at least he seems honest about this. This includes a spray that makes anything taste like glazed donuts, and a solvent that melts anything but the hardest diamonds. Surprisingly, the latter doesn't really do that much in this episode. As for the former, she does ask this question:

Gandra: What if the person doesn't like glazed donuts?

Fenton: What kind of monster doesn’t like glazed donuts?

I can smell the callback from here! She shows off a few inventions of her own, telling him to look in her eyes and hold her hand on two separate occasions. Anyone can guess where that ends up with the "Huey and Webby's perfect date" plot. These actually turn out to be eye cameras and nanobot-powered way for her to use her body's electricity to shock people. Yeah, really showing you're not evil there.

Speaking of which, she then talks about how she's not like those pencil-pushers that talk...and then asks if there's a certain other word for talking. We then cut to Mark Beaks listening closely to this conversation. His patience runs out that getting only one of the words he needs, he decides to do a Plan B: infiltrate the lab himself.

The McDuck Manor’s security may not be as high as it was during the 87 Cent Incident, but he still has robot seagulls that shoot any intruder in sight with lasers.

Mark Beaks is this amazing laser dodger now, dancing around them to the tune of that "It's A Date" song from earlier. One thing that does fit him is that he takes out his phone and hacks into the seagulls.

In the middle of all of that, he dabs, because of course he does. Yes, this screenshot really needed to be by itself, and it also speaks for itself. Oh, that Beaks. Oh, and this line shows up, too, as soon as he gets into a vent.

Mark Beaks: (music stopping) What, no signal? Boo!

The importance of having a local music library instead of relying on streaming, a lesson brought to you by Disney.

Cutting back to the lab again, Fenton decides to show off his ultimate invention: a paddleball! We get the real Chekov's Gun for the episode here: the ball from the paddleball is made out of Fentonium, a frictionless material that actually gets faster every time it gets hit. It creates energy, it's named after him, and most importantly, it's dangerous. That's the word of the day for this episode.

They get back to that restaurant. Unfortunately, the spaghetti they rigged to force that kiss has come untied. Huey shows up to start singing as a distraction, while Webby tries to re-tie that spaghetti. Before she could, she notices a phone buzzing, with a message and a ton of voicemails from Mark Beaks, in the date's pocket. Any plans for potential romance are stopped here, needless to say.

After listening to those voicemails, no plot holes here, Webby reveals to Huey about the big plan: Gandra was sent to get her to record Fenton’s voice saying something that can be altered into “Blathering Blatherskite.” Huey gets Fenton, and while he can't believe he finally found someone who sees him as more than just Gizmoduck's not-so-secret identitty, he is none too happy to hear the bad news.

He's not even that mad about how she's a spy, though that certainly doesn't help, but that she ended up being yet another person that only sees him as the guy that turns into GizmoDuck. He eventually just outright says "blathering blatherskite", possibly by accident, possibly intentionally, I'm not sure which, and asks if this is what she wanted.

It turns out to be something someone else wanted. Mark Beaks shows up, and because Fenton just said the words, he doesn't even have to edit any recordings together when he just has that! That codeword activates the machinery in his body, including the nanites he's been drinking and stolen Gizmo tech, and even just one of them could give him strength beyond strength. He drank a bunch of those.

Yeah, that Mark Beaks, he sure knows the internet, whether it be desperately trying to be a memelord, or pandering to D...okay, fine, that joke is way too easy here. Also, insert a joke about a certain Metal Gear Rising villain here.

After Mega-Beaks shows off his massive pecs, GizmoDuck is left with no choice but to fight him. GizmoDuck mostly fights using the usual slapstick, using giant hammers, pies, and even an airhorn that doesn't make that infamous sound effect. Mega-Beaks, on the other hand, uses as much brute strength as TV-Y7-not-FV can allow. I guess since he's in a robot suit, they can get away with it.

One would expect after all of that stalker behavior from, Gandra would go up to that wannabe Adonis and give him the shock treatment, and when Webby uses her old fashioned camera’s flash to distract him long enough to give Gizmo the upper hand...

Gandra: I'm sorry, Suit.

That's not what really happens.

Half of this episode is just wondering if Gandra Dee is going to do a full-on mole reveal. She made her motives clear already: she'll do anything for science, but she doesn't work for anybody. She tries to pass this off, but Fenton, growing a spine, finally calls her out for being a crook. She leaves, her intentions never really becoming clear.

Mega-Beaks goes all King Kong with the kids, hanging off of his own building. He even says himself that this is all because he wants the attention.

This is where I'll just say watch the episode for the rest, as I already summarized enough. I will say it's not entirely predictable, but anyone could guess that Mega-Beaks will eventually lose his muscle.

Another thing anyone could guess is that Gandra eventually turns on Beaks...but her reasoning isn't entirely out of a desire to be good. Gandra Dee herself is an interesting character, and it could pay off in future episodes.

How does it stack up?

I liked this one. Not as much of a high Happy as the last episode, but a Happy nonetheless.

The next one is pretty big.

← Friendship Hates Magic! 🦆 The Duck Knight Rises! →

[jinxthequeergirl]

Summer love for a muggle girl pt.3

George weasely x reader

Summary: George waits hopefully for any response while (y/n) seems to have other plans that seem to change.

Warning: hmMmM I think imma turn this into a soulmate au slowly...tell me if you don't like it Otherwise none!

(Sorry this is bad.)

~~~~~~~

She waited outside at the gate of the park moving from one leg to the next reapetedly and offered a warm smile to everyone who walked into the park.

"(l/n)!?"

She looked up with a grine as a boy around her age ran over to her. "James! You made it!" the not smiled. He was tall with scruffy black hair and blue eyes.

"I said I would didn't I?" she smiled. "C'mon they should be lighting it soon enough!" She grabbed his hand and led the way to the center of the park.

A large tree sat sturdily in the center of the park and people crouded around it. She held his hand and stood on her tipy toes in an attempt to see over the crowed of people.

"Hey short stack...lemme give you a boost."

"James no-" James lifted her up onto one of his shoulders. "Better?"

She laughed nervously and held his hand for support. "Yea...better."

They both looks ahead as a man dressed as santa stood on a poteum in front of the tree. "Lets count the lighting down!"

"10! "

"9!" She wobbeled slightly

"8!"

"7!"

"6!"

"5!" She yelped as she finally lost balance and fell into his arms.

"4!, 3!, 2!-" James leaned forwards and caught her lips in his.

~

The family cheered as Aurthor lit the tree to life himself. "It looks marvelous everyone!"

Everyone gathered around the tree to talk while Molly brought in a tray full of coco for everyone. But George sat across the room by himself taking in the view of snow hoping for something else to appear out of the cloud of white.

At least a week had passed since the latter had been sent. He constantly wondered if it even made it to the proper house or of she just tossed it in the bin upon seeing who sent it.

"I've never seen him this beaten up over anything." Ron whispered to Harry. Fred frowned at his twin and made his way over to him.

"We'll figure it out georgie...for all we know she could be busy with her family. Like you should be...give it time."

~

"I had a wonderful night..thank you." there was something in the way she spoke that made James doubt what she said. "Well I should head ins-"

"Was it the kiss!? Cause I'm so sorry of it was I just-"

"No!James it was that at all I swear I had a good time it was a good kiss...thank you!" She leaned forward and pecked his cheek before slipping inside. Inside the house was warm and quite. Only the faint sound of christmas music and lite chatter of her mother and aunt from The kitchen filled the large house.

She hung her coat and scarf up quickly and quietly and tiptoed up the stairs carful not to wake anyone who might already be asleep.

She sighed when her door clicked shut behind her and she slumped against it taking in the fresh sent of pine tree that filled her room.

She didn't lie to him. But she didn't tell the truth either. It was a good kiss it just didn't feel right. She groaned pushing herself off the door and wondering over to her desk.

Everything there was neater than she had left it her sketch books where neatly orginized on the bookshelf in the opposite corner, her pencils and markers where in there proper contaners in the corner of the desk and old lose sketches and notes sat neatly in a folder in the center of her desk with a note attached to it.

(y/n) I just had to show Rose the art project you had in the art show. I ended up organizing your whole work space while looking for it. I hope you don't mind. Oh and the letter under this looked important.

-love mum.

She smiled and lifted the note up to find and envelope with a red wax seal. Her brows furrowed upon picking it up but as she turned it over her face lit up with relization and excitment.

She pulled the seal off and took the oddly thick stack of letter from inside out and sat in her chair reading through the letter.

My Dearest, (y/n)

Since our meeting last summer I find it hard to -

Cut off by scribbles. She tucked that one behind the rest and read that one behind it.

She smiled warmly as she flipped through them 16 at least some with heart's all along side the page some filled with poems some with full essays.

But there was one in particular that stood out to her.

Nothing can compare to how her eyes shine and how when she laughs she lights up a room!

Oh! And the way her American accent blends perfectly with her British one.

He went on front and back explaining about how every little detail about her made his heart soar.

She smiled holding the pages close to her. She felt her heart speed and suddenly a soft glow started shining through the papers. She pulled them away noticing her chest glowing a soft red pink color.

She jumped letting the pages scatter everywhere. She held her chest panicked and a red string appeared from her heart through her fingers that sat over her chest.

The string fell from her fingers onto her lap and onto the floor. She exhaled nervously looking at it. She stood up and followed it to the window pushing it open.

She looked out and found that the bright red string from her heart went all the way out through her neighborhood and beyond.

She looked out at it and slowly smiled.

~~~~~~

Tagging:

@rochelle-the-ravenclaw

@aboutpotter

[annaphoenix1994]

Colter - Enter, Pursued by a Memory (2)

"Goddamn, this cold!" Arthur groaned as he entered the morning freeze, using the sole of his boot to light the match for his cigarette, taking a long and slow puff of the tobacco as if his life depended on it. He forced himself to walk through the snow, mentally preparing himself to feel the cold wind cling to his skin through his clothing.

He rushed into the main cabin, seeing Missus Adler struggling to stay warm while she kept her distance from everybody else while Abigail Roberts, Tilly Jackson, and Mary-Beth Gaskill were surrounding the hearth for warmth. "Hello, Arthur," Abigail started as Arthur chucked a fresh log into the small fire.

"Abigail." He replied gruffly, holding his palms to the fire.

"Arthur...how you doing?" She said nervously as she approached him. He looked at her nervously, taking her in. He had always scolded himself for not marrying her when he had the chance, but he knew that wasn't how things were supposed to be. He cared deeply for her and young Jack, but in a way, he still loved her from when she had been friendly with not only him, but almost every man in the gang at one point.

He gulped as he held those memories at bay, where they needed to be, "Just fine, Abigail, and you?"

"I need you to...I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry to ask but..." She stuttered.

"It's little John...He's got himself into a scrape again." Arthur replied with annoyance and a bit of jealousy coating his voice. He brushed her off as he continued to find warmth from the fire.

"He ain't been seen in two...two days!" Abigail protested.

"Your John'll be fine," Arthur said, opening his arms at her. He hated arguing with her, but she needed to hear it. "I mean, he may be as dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron but that ain't changin' because he got caught in some snowstorm!" He argued.

"At least go take a look," Hosea intervened as he closed the book he was reading to young Jack. "Javier?"

"Yes?" Javier Escuella replied, looking up from cleaning his gun.

"Javier, will you ride out with Arthur and take a look for John?" Hosea asked. "You're the two best-fit men we've got."

"Now?" Javier questioned, exhaling a puff of smoke from his cigarette.

"She's...we're all...we're pretty worried about him." Hosea continued, taking note at the look of jealousy on Arthur's face as well as a bit of concern eating at him.

Hosea had played a major role in Arthur's life in the earlier years, seeing Arthur as a son to him. He could tell when things were bothering him or when he was keeping something to himself. Hosea knew Arthur and Abigail had a brief romantic history and that Arthur at some point thought that young Jack was his son, but he couldn't stop Abigail from falling in love with John Marston, who was his fellow brother, but also his competition.

"I know if the situation were reversed, he'd look for me." Javier said as he handed Arthur his sewed-off shotgun. Arthur nodded as he took the gun before turning on his heels, pushing out Abigail's 'thank you's out of his head as he walked through the doorway.

"This way! Last I know, John was headed up the river!" Javier said over the wind as he took the lead.

"For all we know, he kept ridin' north and never looked back," Arthur grunted, bowing his head so that the brim of his hat would shield his face from the wind.

"He wouldn't leave. Not like that." Javier doubted.

"Well, wouldn't be the first time," Arthur replied, clutching the reins tighter, wishing he had on two pairs of gloves instead of one. He and Javier trekked north, both of them encouraging their horses to continue on their journey. Arthur may not have had a bond as strong with this horse like he did with Boadicea, his fallen horse after the failed ferry robbery in Blackwater, but the mahogany bay stallion was pushing through. "Good boy!" Arthur encouraged as he gave the stallion an encouraging pat to the neck. "So... You were there, Javier, what really happened on that boat?" He asked.

"We had the money, it seemed fine, then suddenly they were everywhere," Javier explained.

"Bounty hunters?" Arthur guessed.

"No, Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets," Javier continued as the horses were now on steeper terrain. "Watch out for this crevice!" He warned. "Dutch killed a girl in a... bad way, but it was a bad situation."

"That ain't like him, though." Arthur replied.

"They continue along the cliff wall here!" Javier said, referring to the horse tracks he and Arthur found shortly after they left camp. "Davey got shot. Mac and John... Both shot too. Sean, we don't even know. I'm surprised we escaped at all. By the time you boys showed up from the other side of town, we were only just holding on." Javier continued.

Arthur sighed, "Bad business alright."

They were now trotting through fresh snow, which was too much for Arthur's liking, so he decided to slow his horse down to a walk as he knew the fresh and deep snow had to be hard on his horse. "You're alright boy," He encouraged. "The horses are struggling."

"Yeah, a lot of fresh snow here."

"I don't know about this, Javier. W-we can't follow nothing." Arthur doubted.

"Let's push on a little bit, maybe we'll pick up the trail again," Javier encouraged as their horses continued to push on up the steep embankment.

"Almost there, boy, c'mon now!"

"Hey, look! Over there, you see that?" Javier pointed as the men stopped their horses before nudging them to a lope. Upon closer inspection, it was a deceased horse. "John was riding that horse when we left Blackwater." Javier sighed.

"Oh... That's..." Arthur grunted. He didn't mind killing an animal when it came to hunting but seeing a dead horse hurt him on the inside. Aside from a buck, horses were his favorite animal as they represented so much freedom, beauty, and spirit. Something Arthur wrote fondly about in his journal was Boadicea. He sighed as he looked away from the deceased animal before turning his attention back to Javier.

"Let's see if he can hear us!" Javier said before firing his revolver, the gunpowder echoing through the icy canyon and empty mountains.

"Hey! Help! Here!"

"Come on... Up there!" Javier suggested as he pushed Boaz into a steady lope up the embankment.

"Hello? Over here!"

"It's coming from up ahead somewhere. I don't think we can go much further on the horses. We'll have to walk from here." Javier said as he dismounted Boaz. "I'd grab that shotgun from your horse. Who knows what's up ahead."

───※ ·❆· ※───

"That's quite a scratch you got there." Arthur said as he and Javier were now looking at John Marston from over the cliff he had sought shelter.

John looked up at the pair with his new three lacerations, "Never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you, Arthur Morgan."

Arthur sighed as he eased himself down to where John was, looking him over briefly, "You don't look so good." He said as he slung John's arm over his shoulders.

"I don't feel too good neither," John groaned as Arthur easily lifted the man up, helping him get atop the cliff so Javier could help. "I'm freezing!"

"Don't die just yet, cowboy." Arthur said as he hoisted himself back up before slinging John over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, slowly walking behind Javier as he figured out a way to get back to the horses without having to go through the rough terrain they had encountered on foot.

"You see that on the ridge?" Javier said as distant howls echoed from afar. Arthur felt John shift his weight as he was still slung over Arthur's shoulder, looking up at what damage the animals had caused.

"Shit," Arthur mumbled as he helped John to his feet. "I'll distract them while you get to the horses. Go, I'll draw 'em off you." He insisted.

"Let's get back to the others!" Javier exclaimed after Arthur had successfully terminated the three wolves after a brief scrapple. Arthur clutched his wrist to rid the pain as he had gotten bitten, but it luckily didn't pierce through his skin, only his coat.

"I don't feel too good," John complained.

"You'll be fine. It's just like a...a dog bite."

John sighed, "I knew a feller, got bit by a dog. Died an hour later."

"You ain't gonna die! Not yet-" Javier assured. "More of 'em to the right!" He shouted.

Arthur quickly pulled out the sewed-off shotgun Javier had given him, hoping that his new horse wouldn't spook too bad from the shots and the wolves coming at his fetlocks. "Easy boy!" Arthur said as he shot two wolves quickly, regaining control as his horse's natural instincts took over.

"You see any more, Arthur?" Javier called.

"Don't think so." He grunted.

"Jesus!" John whined.

"You still with us, Marston?" Arthur teased.

"Just about." He groaned.

"You're gonna be okay. We have some shelter now." Javier assured.

"Thanks for coming for me."

"Of course. That bullet in Blackwater, now this? You had a hell of a time."

"And Arthur always says... I'm lucky." John croaked.

"You know, we're gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar!" Arthur teased as the horses trudged through the current of the river in an attempt to cover up their scent.

"So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death, ain't good enough for you?" John questioned.

"Yeah...c'mon. Let's push hard and get back."

"See those buildings up ahead John? That's where we're camped. Nearly there." Javier assured as the camp was inching closer.

"Come on! Someone help John down off this horse!" Javier exclaimed.

"Can we get some help here?" Arthur intervened as he pulled his horse to a halt, dismounting as he heard the main cabin's door squeak as Abigail came running out. "You're alive! Oh, you're alive!" Abigail cried as she gripped onto John's jacket.

"Ay, careful idiotas, it's his leg!" Javier warned as he was still atop Boaz.

"Come on, let's get you warm!" Abigail said as Bill was acting as a crutch for John, leading him to the cabin. "Thank you! Thank you both!"

Arthur and Javier nodded as they were soon joined by Hosea and Leopold Strauss. "Thank you, Arthur. Thank you." Hosea said, patting his shoulder.

"You got any other lost maidens need savin'?" Arthur groaned.

"Yeah, that Minnie Barlow," Hosea teased, referring to the brief conversation he and Dutch had about the woman after they brought Sadie Adler to camp, Dutch explaining to Hosea that Arthur had kept asking questions about the fellow outlaw relentlessly, making it clear to Dutch and Hosea that he may be under the impression of a crush, which Hosea loved to play "matchmaker."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Arthur scoffed. Hosea chuckled as Javier and Leopold Strauss retreated slightly, "Dutch told me about your crush."

"Whatchu talkin' about? I don't have no crush!" Arthur blushed.

"You're forgetting that we know you better than you do, Arthur. Since when have you been so curious about an outlaw when you're an outlaw yourself?" Hosea questioned. Arthur shook his head as he wanted to get the topic of love interests from his head. 'Yeah, like a woman like that would have me anyways.' He scolded to himself.

"Have you and Dutch talked about how we're gonna get out of this?" Arthur asked, changing the subject.

"I was just discussing with Herr Strauss when the weather breaks I suppose we'll have to keep heading east."

"East? Into all of that civilization?" Arthur objected.

"I know," Hosea replied. "The west is where our problems are worse. C'mon, Herr Strauss, let's get warm."

Arthur nodded as he thrust through the snow, rubbing his palms up and down his upper arms in an attempt to generate heat, but he felt as if he was getting nowhere. He quickly shut the door to the cabin, retreating to his room for a brief bit of isolation, something that he needed. He had a sudden urge to write as if nothing that was going on even mattered. He sat on the edge of his cot, pulling the nightstand closer to him to make a table:

𝓦𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴𝓼. 𝓦𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓪𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝔀. 𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻.