#event: frozen peak incident | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

persicipen · 1 month ago

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₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓛𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔. JIAOQIU ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

₊ ˙ ⊹ . after the incident that left jiaoqiu in a weakened state, both physically and mentally, shutting himself off even from you, he reluctantly accepts your plea to relearn dearly missed intimacy.

ৎ୭ — · · 4.5k ノ afab gn reader — established relationship. emotional making out. petnames — sweet pea, sweetheart. bittersweet fluff. lots of hurt and comfort. riding him. clumsy and messy attempt at reigniting the spark. cumming inside and together hihi ノ heavy spoilers about his condition included! set after 2.5 version!

The start of this little story begins in late afternoon when the distant hustle and bustle of the startskiff port plays a melody for the dust dancing listlessly against the wine-dark sky. As the evening settles in, it’s natural to seek comfort in beloved arms. To rest and feel safe is almost all one could ever desire, but a subtle silence hangs like omen in the quiet inside of the house instead.

Jiaoqiu says nothing, as opposed to the incessant surge of babbling he would normally hit you with as soon as you two were done with work for the day, but that was before the events of Xianzhou Luofu’s Wardance.

And then he mutters the heavy truth in front of your face.

“I don’t think I can do this.” You’re taken aback by the soft voice. As gentle as the fluttering of butterfly wings. There is an edge to his tone, however, like that of a subtle crack in a frozen river.

Little tuskpirs gather around the bed, their round bellies flattening as they slump right against Jiaoqiu’s sides, immediately sensing the rise of anxiety within him and running to soothe his mind and feed on the negative energy. Like sluggish pets, three of them wriggle between you two, ignoring the hints of an unsuccessful attempt at reigniting the intimacy and clothes half taken off.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You scoot over and wrap your arms around his lithe frame. “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“That’s not it…”

“Jiao…”

“I’m sorry. I want to see you.” His voice breaks down — not enough to cry, but it’s obvious he’s struggling.

By instinct, he finds the safe crook of your neck and hides himself there to calm down. A meek escape from what he’s afraid of. You.

No matter the passing time, you wish to give him more if that’s what he needs to open up again. Strength in devotion is not something you’re lacking, no — far from it. However, it would be a lie to say that his rejections do not hurt you. Like knives, like needles, jabbing at your heart that you so willingly present before him, all bare on your open palms.

You knew he’d always been prone to sadness, sulking in the depths of sorrow over his life in private while maintaining a shiny smile at work and shushing all uncomfortable questions with a playful swat of his feather fan. The truth is, you’re helpless by now. So, it’s not like you’re trying to push him into sleeping together. More like persuade, convince, because you’re certain this is exactly what he requires. He has closed himself deep inside his mind, away from you and your tenderness, like believing he’s no longer worthy of your love and he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate something that should never be transactional in the first place.

It’s been already a long while since his recovery, still far from his peak condition, but as good as it will get in the next year, at least.

To heal his shattered image, you want to love him. You already do. Make love to him to show he’s still just as precious to you, each part of him one of a kind. Even if scarred and weakened, he’s as handsome and witty as ever, and you have never wanted anyone else in your life just as badly as him. That’s love to you. You love Jiaoqiu. The problem is, he doesn’t love himself and thus diminishes any chance to prove him wrong.

At first he was repeatedly apologising to you that you had to wake up multiple times a night to change his bandages and soak his wounds in herbal ointments, even if you were doing it because you wanted to. After that, he stopped saying anything, just glancing at you with pity, like he’s taking something from you. As if surviving a few weeks without sex was that hard for you. You want to scoff at the implication. Obviously, this was the last thing you were thinking about, more concerned about the well-being of your beloved man and focused on working yourself off to ensure he’s back to full health as soon as possible to not waste all the amazing treatments he received from the Luofu’s Alchemy Commission.

To put it bluntly, you don’t miss his hot embrace around you while he’s busy crowding you with his cock in the morning when you two are still sleepy. What you do miss is the passion in his heart, burning as brightly as the early sun, beckoning you to hold him close and whisper your feelings to him until there’s nothing left to say.

The tuskpirs hum and snort, wiggling their cute, pudgy bodies to get on his lap for maximum comfort. One settles on yours, sensing that you’re getting overwhelmed by the situation. Instead of enjoying the privacy, you and Jiaoqiu have to accept there must be enough space between you both for these dreamy living cushions. They have been by his side ever since he returned from the Wardance.

“Shh, it’s okay.” There’s so much you wish to say to him, but nothing seems right enough. You wrap your arms around him and pet the back of his head. After getting your breath under control, you decide to speak up gently. “You’ve been doing great around the kitchen for a while now. Touching me should be easier than looking for the right ingredients in the drawers, hm?”

“Hmph, I haven’t lost my skills. I just loved watching you.”

“I can’t see myself either. I wouldn’t consider it a big loss.” You laugh sheepishly.

“I do. You’re so pretty! And, well, it’s unfair when you can still see me.”

“Not when you’re hiding in my neck, silly. Hey…” You cradle him like a wounded bird, trying to get him to move up without forcing him if he certainly doesn’t wish to.

But he does.

“I want you. Really.” You admit, kissing his cheek. “And would appreciate if you could do something about it. But I will not force you. Take your time.”

There’s a voice inside your head telling you to feel guilty for examining his face so intently now, but you need to study every little frown and twitch of his muscles. You need to determine if he’s willing to be loved. The heart before him is bare again, ready to be taken into his hold, but he hesitates, as if returning to you as wounded could change anything between you two. Never. Not only this, even more so, you’re thankful he’s alive and still in your arms, warm, which makes you want to cuddle him even closer.

“Mmm… it’s impossible to refuse you. I just… Hmm, it’s a lot to process.”

“Do you think it will be easier i-if you lie down and I sit on top of you?” You stumble upon the question, cheeks burning at the memory of how you did the exact same thing during your first time together, being much less experienced than you are now.

A faint smile plays on his lips, a blush quickly blooming across his face.

“Haven’t heard you so flustered in a while.” He smirks, noting that you indeed kept your worried and assertive mask for far too long. If not for his flaring injuries, that fake credence of yours would be gone with the first flirty joke playing on his pointy teeth. You never win against his teasing. A spark of joy in your chest blooms at witnessing him so relaxed and regain a part of his old confidence.

It means he might be ready for something more than just the light kisses you haven’t been able to stop yourself from sharing.

A nervous purr erupts in his throat as he clumsily turns around to rest on his back, his hands yearning to never break the contact with your body. Meanwhile, you, even more clumsily, drape yourself atop his lap. There’s a giggle when tuskpirs walk right across his face, brushing their soft, fat bellies against his nose when they march away and jump down the bed, disappointed there’s less of negative energy to snack on. But it’s for the better. You’re almost jealous that Jiaoqiu wouldn’t see them anyway because making out in front of them would embarrass you beyond recognition.

“You sure?” You ask when the proximity is nearly unbearable.

“I owe you this much, dear.”

“Jiao, you really don’t have to force—”

“No, shh… Listen to my voice. I owe you this much, dear. It’s the truth.” His fingertips glide across your hips, sliding further up and over your stomach, trying to make out how many clothes you’re wearing. Still too many, that he’s certain. “Let’s focus now on something else, hmm?”

You allow him to remove the silk robe without making a fuss. He pokes out a tip of his tongue once you’re naked, eagerly roaming his hands all over your body, whispering ‘perfect’ as he begins to explore the well-known shapes and dips of your skin, like recreating the familiar image through other senses. His ears are flicking lightly at every sigh you let out from his bold caresses.

“Just say if anything changes, alright?”

“Alright.” That’s all he can do. Agree. He’s unable to read all the worries hidden in your expression. There’s nothing, just your voice. “Same with you, yes?”

With the closeness and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, it’s like the rest of the world suddenly doesn’t matter. The twitching tail curled next to him reflects his eagerness.

“Mhm, I promise.” You waste not a single more second, drawing near his lips with your own, this time ensuring it isn’t fleeting.

He copies the gesture, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other getting lost in your hair, holding onto the scalp like guidance.

Jiaoqiu feels feverish underneath you, no longer reserved but like a lover he once was before. He savours every last bit of physical contact, yet the bandages are quite irritating and disrupting him from fully enjoying your warmth, though do nothing against the soft noises escaping him whenever you roll yourself along his growing erection.

The tenderness, the touches, the hot kisses shared — all of it. With how sensitive you are after an unavoidable break from sharing a bed with him, it doesn’t take much to make you wet, covering his loose pants with arousal. No longer able to see the sheen layer, but extremely sensitive to sense you’re getting all slippery and hot down there, Jiaoqiu takes it slow to focus on every brief sensation and mark them all in his mind.

As you try to part from his lips to change your position and help him get rid of his clothes, he merely pulls you closer, tongue peeking out and asking for permission to get tangled with yours.

“Not yet.” Is all he says in the quick interval between claiming your mouth.

You whine, maybe from being depraved of the pleasure or maybe exactly because of the delay caused by his request. His breathing becomes faster as he sinks deeper into the kisses, just as he sinks his nails into your back.

The hand that was tugging you down finds its way near your legs, right next to his cock, finger delicately dipping in your wetness and swiping your clit back and forth to both tease and explore where you are — he sighs in relief that it’s no different from when he used to navigate your body in the dark after you had been so embarrassed by his previous mischief that you couldn’t bear to leave any lights on. You squeak, grinding harder into his palm. The teensy noises echo your thirst, one you can no longer contain as Jiaoqiu skillfully guides you to feel his shaft instead of riding his fingers.

“Jiao, please…”

“Mmm, that’s so sweet to hear from you.”

“Get out of your pants already.” You bite his lower lip. Your hands tremble as they try to pull the waistband down.

He smirks into the kiss. How could he doubt himself when all it takes is just a moment to have you so touch-deprived?

Aside from the incessant flames of affinity, you are also proud it got to this point. You want him to be proud too. And you are going to help him understand that he still has you, body and soul. You want to see him come undone underneath you and between your pussy walls, like he always did, like he used to. Ignoring that the break was a necessity for some time, overcome with the tender care for your lover, but now the pent-up desire from these last weeks weighs down on you like a tempest. You need to have him, preferably inside you, and want him to claim you as his own once again.

Fully hard and flushed, his cock throbs in your hold as you lift your hips up to finally hump yourself against him. You take in the sight of him lying underneath you. Beautiful. Elegant.

It seems Jiaoqiu himself isn’t faring much better than you — he curses under his breath as you brush your noses together, pressing just a tad more to get his cockhead to slide into the dewy core. You roll your hips to align him with your entrance, encouraging him to do so with a squeeze to his hand and a lewd whine into his lips. It feels tight and wonderful for both of you; it almost makes you lose your balance and collapse on top of him, but you find yourself steadied by the reassuring arms wrapping around your waist.

He bites his lip, groaning when you purposefully clench around him. Not yet fully inside you, but it’s impossible to deny just how blissfully it is to share this intimate embrace again.

“How much of you do I get today?” You purr, trying to sink down further.

“All of me.” He gulps in response, desperate to indulge himself while you take him as deep as possible. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. All this time spent on thinking about you like this…” He guides you down with a tighter grip on your midriff, himself bucking at the syrupy praise in a physical form. A wordless prayer to let him enjoy it — something so divine even he can’t deny it. Jiaoqiu moans at the contact, even louder as you nip at his neck, giving permission to do more.

“Is this okay?” You ask with a shuddering voice and he only hums in agreement.

Your forehead is pulsing in the dearly missed inkling of being overwhelmed, gathering thoughts and courage to get used to the presence between your legs, nestling raw where you feel the most exposed. The only difference is that usually he would look at you, yet now his eyes remain closed. A small price to pay for the chance of appreciating the sensation of being one with you once again.

The broken whispers are different. He groans, already fucked out even when he hasn’t moved at all. Just the idea of having you wrapped around him again, hips sinking into your downy skin and kissing away tears as you ask him to take you in the same old rhythm of kisses and trust, has him almost too excited.

“Jiao, ah, ngh…”

“I know.” His voice comes out husky, “I missed you so much, sweet pea…”

The tenderness melts your insides as he gently bucks up into you.

Jiaoqiu buries his face in your neck, lips and teeth everywhere, just trying to touch as much of you as possible. You let him, ignoring the burn of your ticklish body and even more bare than before now that he uses his hands to map your entire form.

How you look when submitting to lust.

How you feel, all tight and sodden for him at the same time.

It draws a moan out of you, wanton and crystal clear, out of breath with a need that threatens to drive you mad if not for Jiaoqiu’s sweet smooches swallowing the whimpers and begging whines.

With one hand holding onto the side of your ribs for support, his other goes to grip your ass, lightly patting it, testing the waters to see if he can be more aggressive with you and how you will react. He even presses his cock further inside, his finger teasingly ghosting around your entrance while you’re stuffed full of him. The feathery ecstasy makes you melt in delight, head dizzy as you bable his name over and over again to finally move and not tease you any longer.

“How is it that you’re even more impatient than me?”

“I love you. I just love you so much, and you make me feel good!” You sob, barely able to contain the pleasure anymore, rocking against him, as desperate to hear your little pants and moans as he is to dwell in the squeeze of your walls. He is being selfish, denying you to make this moment last as long as possible just to test whatever is new to him, but it is impossible to fight the temptation of getting lost in you. Together with you.

Perhaps it really is a big inconvenience to not rely on his sight anymore, but he still sees through you better than anyone else, able to bring out the shine from most of your features, knowing your body just as well as knowing the properties of each herb from the drawers. He’s aware of the moment when you get too close, hating that he can no longer watch your face twist and convulse in ecstasy. Even if he has memorised all your precious antics from when he could still watch your pretty visage, they are new again. And it causes him to lose his mind.

He’s beautiful, sprawled on the pillows with his peach-coloured locks of silk for hair; cheeks painted incandescent red and the tip of his nose the same pink as tuskpirs. Eyes closed and framed by long, delicate lashes — so pretty when curled from tears, a layer of sugary fog. The softness of his fair skin catches the dim mauve light of the evening, porcelain and unblemished, save for the subtle traces of weariness that linger from the remains of the sickness.

Even in his exhaustion, there’s an ethereal grace to him, as if nothing could ever dull the elegance etched in his figure. It’s easier for him to get tired, but that was within your expectations.

In this fleeting stillness, he belongs only to you. You can imagine hearing the echo of his laugh — that mischievous lilt he so often hides behind — but now, his lips are parted just enough to hint at the quiet suspire of fulfilment.

He’s so perfect it almost hurts. And yet, there’s something fragile in him too, something only those who love him enough can see beneath the layers of smiles and clever words. Something you’d protect at all costs.

It takes no time for him to figure out how to move in just the right way to keep you hanging on the edge, ickle mewls now dripping down your tongue with how helpless you are against his touch, even when you’re on top of him.

“I will take your hands, ngh— and lay them down, okay… Ah!” So desperately trying to intertwine your fingers together and press them to the sides of his head — all futile as the strength leaves your limbs to be replaced with the prickling heat of love.

“Hmm, doesn’t seem like you’re able to do that, sweetheart.”

He moans as you arch your back and whimper with every bounce of your hips, as if trying to get away from the torturous rhythm but encouraging him to buck into you simultaneously.

“Tell me… how does it feel like?” Jiaoqiu demands, a saccharine tone between panting breaths, making your face burn.

“Like… ah, perfect.” The sensation is too overwhelming for you. Unable to even think, let alone speak coherently. “Like always…”

The pleasure is rolling off you in waves as you meet his thrusts. Like always, like it was before. After all the words left unsaid, you two are closer than have been in weeks. It is perfect in its imperfection — there are scars, spaces you cannot quite fill — but the air between you is forever the same, scented with spices and sweet lewdness, and you don’t need any further proof that this is real, that he is real. The closeness is still raw at the edges, a bit awkward as somehow your bodies clash in places that used to align smoothly, charged with something that passing days and distance have failed to erase.

This is your first time in many long weeks, after all. The stabs of bliss send you over the edge faster than before, keening into his face. Jiaoqiu hums and coos at how beautiful you sound, taking a deep breath under your jawline to take in your scent and drown himself in it. It surprises him when you quiver, deliciously soaked with the tint of love.

His cock throbs in wanton pain, begging for relief, and if he knew this would make you even tighter than before, he might have thought twice before doing it. He chuckles, still overwhelmed by the wave of endorphins, as if drunk on happiness. You swear you can hear him purr when you run your fingers over his ear and take a firm hold on it, feeling him buck into you with a high-pitched whine. As your shaking hand slides down his neck, tracing the smooth scars there, you reach for his chest.

“You still love that, hmm?”

“Hmm, how could I not?” He sighs as you nibble on his collarbone, very very careful not to irritate the discoloured marks after Hoolay’s fangs.

“Please, touch me here, too.” You bring his palm between your legs, gently guiding his fingers to your clit.

“Aren’t you a tiny bit too bratty?”

“What if I am?” You ask teasingly.

In spite of the exchange of words, he obliges to your demands. Your arousal covers his digits when he circles them around your swollen nub. Concurrently, his thrusts are slow and purposeful, holding you in place and savouring the sensation of being one with you again. The rough patch of the bandage near his navel reminds him in the most annoying way he’s yet to return to full health.

“Ahh, Jiaoqiu!”

His ears perk up in delight at how it sounds so beautiful when you cry his name like that.

Having an emotional barrier over your sex life has been excruciating for both of you, but you’re finally getting a glimpse of the previous wonderful intimacy you used to share.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He breathes out, heavy and shuddering, already so close just from this.

“I’m yours,” you whine. “All yours.”

He’d never force you into that, but the sentiment of such reassurance, even after all this time and his condition, makes his heart flutter and his hips stutter in their movements. His hand flies up to cradle your face, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The sudden confession and a rough tap on your bundle of nerves — a hint of pain and pleasure as his hips hit your own — is what at last pulls you into release. With his name slurred in between hiccups and sobs, you grip at his shoulders, and your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing him with yourself.

Jiaoqiu thrusts deep inside you and lets go of his load, biting down on your shoulder with the intention to leave a mark. Regardless, you allow him even closer to give him more of your skin. The temptation to make a small wound and taste you is irresistible for him, yet he will not cross this boundary. Not yet, at least. Your fingers brush through his hair as he whines and clings to you for support, licking over the sore spot and pumping in a frenzy, riding out his orgasm to milk himself in your welcoming core.

He’s always been rough while reaching his peak, as if all instincts within him take control to fill you up with his cum thoroughly. Jiaoqiu tries to prolong the pleasure but can’t do it — simple as that — panting and cuddling to you like he’d never let go. You sink into him as you both catch your breaths, giving in to the sleepiness after a warm, much-needed release.

It is so comforting and dreamy to be cradled in his arms, to have his cock still buried inside you, already sore and sensitive. His heartbeat joining your own, soft tuffs of inhales and exhales lulling you to rest against his chest, as you let out a lush sigh in satisfaction.

A couple of touches and smiles are enough for now.

“How you’re doing?” You let yourself settle on his chest again, trembling hands stroking the mess of fur between his ears. He squirms, placing an arm around you.

“Surprisingly good.” He adjusts on the pillow, holding you tight as if not to let you slip away from him. You only stroke his face, thumbs swiping across the wet tear streaks on his cheeks, continuing to give affectionate pats and tender brushes through his hair.

However, it’s impossible to miss how drowsy he turns after the vigorous exercise. With the bandages so loose, the difference is just so apparent.

“Tired?” You brush your nose against his. “I know it was rather taxing on your constitution now, but… how do you feel now?”

“No matter what you think, I am perfectly fine. I missed you a lot. Quite fun to realise that I needed just a little persuasion from you to accept some things.” His hands brush up and down your arms, and he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “What about you? How do you feel with everything?”

“I needed this just as much as you, you stubborn old fox.” You mumble.

“Hmm, not as stubborn as you, it seems.”

It makes you giggle into his shoulder. There are so many emotions hidden under the cover of snuggles, but you wish for this to last longer than anything else — and in his arms, you are at last secure and loved. Together with him.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — okay, so… i really hope i approached the topic the right way. it might not be obvious, but i read through many articles, comments and stories from people who lost their sight, especially as adults, and how their lives changed after that. they’re still doing fine and adjusted to the new reality, which is sweet! working on this little fic was quite emotional to me as a certified jiaoqiu fan, especially that i “secretly-not-so-secretly” selfship with him, and perhaps i even could add a warning that it’s selfship-coded, but also reader didn’t really have any specific traits there. i guess i wanted to just write something cute that happens after the incident to show that jiaoqiu, even if struggling with some aspects of his life, especially emotional and intimate ones, is still the same lovely character <3 and if i have enough time and motivation later, i plan to write some fluff about it too!

#—writing.#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x you #jiaoqiu smut

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k-verse-sachi · 6 months ago

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Rise of The Phoenix

Hey everyone! Welcome to CharmedChaos!

I'm Alex, writer #3 who loves bringing your favorite characters to life in exciting and imaginative ways here at CharmedChaos. So, sit back, relax, and dive into the world of fantasy with me!

Group: BTS

Type: X Reader/X Member/N.A

Age Restriction: 13+/16+/18+/N.A

Word Count: 1k

Request Status: Requested by: {no one}

Pairing: none

Genre: selected in purple

Romance, Angst, Fluff, Drama, Comedy, Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller, Action, Adventure, Horror, Smut

Trigger Warning: talks of paralysis, major injuries to main character

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons{outside of stated idols}, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER 5: THE PHOENIX RISES FROM THE ASHES

it's been months now. BTS is set for a comeback.

The arena hummed with excitement, a palpable energy coursing through the air as fans eagerly awaited the arrival of their beloved idols. In the backstage corridors, BTS prepared for their momentous performance, their hearts pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Jungkook leaned in close to his manager, their heads bowed in a private conversation amidst the chaos of the backstage area. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he shared his secret plan, a plan that would leave both his bandmates and fans speechless. The manager nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of Jungkook's decision and the importance of keeping it under wraps until the perfect moment.

As the lights dimmed and the opening chords echoed through the arena, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. BTS burst onto the stage, their presence commanding, their energy infectious as they launched into their performance. The audience sang along to every word, their voices blending into a harmonious chorus that filled the air with euphoria.

Halfway through the concert, as the audience was caught up in the rhythm of the music, a sudden shift in atmosphere seized their attention. From the wings of the stage emerged Jungkook's wheelchair, propelled by unseen hands. Gasps of surprise rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned towards the unexpected sight.

With a mixture of nervousness and determination, Jungkook approached the microphone, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air as he addressed the audience, his voice trembling with emotion. "I've missed you all more than words can say," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, yet reverberating with raw emotion. "But tonight, I want to share something special with you."

As the anticipation reached its peak, Jungkook summoned every ounce of courage within him and pushed himself out of his wheelchair. The collective gasp that swept through the crowd was deafening, a moment frozen in time as Jungkook stood before them. Tears welled in the eyes of fans and bandmates alike as they witnessed his remarkable feat.

Across the stage, the members of BTS stood in awe, their eyes wide with disbelief. Tears glistened in Jimin's eyes as he watched his friend defy the odds. Yoongi, usually composed, was unable to contain his emotions, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed this. he felt relief, and so did everyone else. As Jungkook made his way towards his bandmates, the distance between them bridged by his determination, they rushed to meet him. Arms enveloped him in a tight embrace, laughter mingling with tears of joy. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated emotion.

For Jungkook, it was more than just a step forward. And as they stood together, bathed in the glow of love and acceptance, they knew that anything was possible. The stage was not just a platform for performance; it was a sacred space where dreams were realized and miracles happen.

Jungkook gazed out at the sea of fans, their unwavering support a beacon of hope in his journey of recovery. "I’m not fully back to where I was," he began, his voice steady with determination, "and it might take a while. But I promise, I will perform again. It won’t be exactly like before, but I will keep giving you everything I have. Thank you for believing in me."

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, their cheers echoing through the stadium as Jungkook's words washed over them. Among the countless faces, Jungkook's eyes caught sight of one in particular – Hana, the ARMY member who had penned a heartfelt letter sharing her own battle with cancer and how Jungkook's presence had brought her comfort and strength during her darkest days.

With a grateful smile, Jungkook reached out to Hana, his voice filled with sincerity as he spoke directly to her and to the millions of ARMY around the world. "Hana, thank you for sharing your story with me. Your courage and resilience inspire me every day. And to all of you," he continued, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, "thank you for being my light in the darkest of times. Your love and support have been my guiding stars, and I am forever grateful."

The night drew to a close with a poignant performance of "Spring Day," the lyrics resonating deeply with everyone present. Jungkook's journey was far from over, but his spirit had proven unbreakable. His story of resilience became an inspiration, a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the power of dreams.

Epilogue:

As Jungkook's recovery continued, he found himself returning to the stage, his performances carrying a newfound depth and emotional power. Though he had to adapt his dance style, his presence remained as captivating as ever, touching the hearts of all who watched him.

BTS continued to break records and touch hearts around the globe, with Jungkook's journey adding a new chapter to their incredible story. The golden maknae had risen, like a phoenix from the ashes, stronger and more radiant than ever before. And as he looked out at the sea of fans who had stood by him through it all, he knew that together, they could overcome anything.

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coinnewz · 1 year ago

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Fantom DeFi TVL Drops Following Exposure to Multichain

The cross-chain protocol Multichain experienced a major setback that has significantly disrupted decentralized finance (DeFi) activities on Fantom. Since the onset of Multichain’s issue in May, Fantom Foundation has been striving to reassure users about its association with the protocol. However, early indicators suggest that the problems with Multichain have severely affected Fantom’s DeFi operations, leading to asset depegging and projects shuttering their operations. DeFi Protocol Closes Operations, Assets Depeg Assets, such as Bitcoin, USDC, Ethereum, and various stablecoins bridged via Multichain on Fantom, have drastically depegged from their true values. Web3 Knowledge Graph Protocol 0xScope noted this discrepancy in early June, following the illicit transfer of $126 million in Multichain users’ funds to unidentified addresses. Most of the pilfered assets originated from the Fantom Bridge. 0xScope highlighted how traders were disposing of their Fantom-based stablecoins at a loss. One particular trader allegedly endured a loss of approximately $200,000. “Due to the Multichain freeze, people are selling stables (fUSDT, etc.) for FTM and depositing FTM to CEX to escape from the Fantom protocol! Fantom now trading at ~$0.7.” Read more: Top 10 Must Have Cryptocurrency Security Tips Multichain Depegged Assets on Fantom. Source: 0xScope The depegging of assets has especially impacted Geist Finance, a fork of Aave on Fantom. The decentralized liquidity market protocol has stated that the Multichain exploit has resulted in irreversible losses. This results from Multichain bridged assets now trading at only 22% of their actual value. “After confirmation from Multichain that the funds will not be recovered, we are announcing that Geist will not reopen. Because Chainlink oracles are tracking the value of real USDC, USDT, WBTC or ETH, they are not aware of the real value of Multichain assets,” explained Geist Finance. Andre Cronje, co-founder of Fantom Network, acknowledged the impact of the Multichain incident. He lamented that assurances of decentralization, geolocation distribution, and access given by the Multichain team proved false. “Multichain was a big blow… Don’t trust, verify (saying this to myself)… looking into other backstops or helping recovery, even using foundation treasury. Until we have more data we just can’t give any hard confirmations. We won’t leave this as is though,” said Cronje. Cronje also pointed out that Fantom Foundation is coordinating with relevant parties to retrieve the lost assets. It confirmed contacting stablecoin issuers such as Circle, Tether, and TUSD. The Foundation asked these firms to freeze assets in Multichain wallets. “We have verified that approximately $60 million USDC and $2 million USDT have been frozen,” said the Fantom Foundation. Fantom’s Total Value Locked (TVL) Crashes As a result of these events and DeFi protocols shutting down operations, the total value of assets locked (TVL) on Fantom has plummeted. On-chain data from DeFiLlama shows that Fantom’s TVL has decreased by more than 80%, falling to $69.03 million from its May high of $364 million. Read more: Top 6 DeFi Lending Platforms Fantom DeFi TVL Since May. Source: DeFiLlama Fantom’s decentralized exchanges have also experienced a sharp decline in trading volume. Data from DeFiLlama indicates that the network’s average weekly volume throughout June was less than $100 million. Although there has been a slight increase in the first half of this month to over $200 million, this figure falls significantly short of its February 2022 peak of $5.2 billion. Disclaimer In adherence to the Trust Project guidelines, BeInCrypto is committed to unbiased, transparent reporting. This news article aims to provide accurate, timely information. However, readers are advised to verify facts independently and consult with a professional before making any decisions based on this content. Source link Read the full article

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atlanticcanada · 2 years ago

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Weather warnings blanket Maritimes as major winter storm approaches

Environment Canada issued weather warnings across the Maritimes Thursday afternoon.

A major winter storm, moving through Ontario into Quebec, will develop a strong east-southeast wind in the region Friday afternoon into night.

Peak gusts of up to 90 km/h are called for with a few exceptions. The northeast coastline of New Brunswick could hit gusts of 110 km/h. In northern Inverness County, gusts could reach 120 km/h due to the topography of the Highlands.

The weather agency notes that “similar storms in the past have resulted in utility outages” and “high winds may toss loose objects or cause tree branches to break.”

The wind is expected to diminish west-to-east Saturday morning.

Heavy rain will accompany the strong winds. Rainfall Warnings are in effect for the entirety of the Maritimes, except the northwestern corner of New Brunswick. Rain amounts will be in the area of 20 to 40 mm, with higher local amounts possible. Water runoff from saturated or frozen ground could create localized flooding.

There is an additional risk of several hours of freezing rain for the St. John River Valley in New Brunswick Friday afternoon.

Snowfall Warnings for the storm are restricted to the Mount Carleton – Renous Highway and the Bathurst and Chaleur regions of northern New Brunswick. The warnings call for snow totals of 15 to 20 cm Friday afternoon and night, before an eventual change to rain. Other areas of northern New Brunswick could see some initial snow accumulation of less than 15 cm before a turn to rain.

A risk of storm surge is noted in remaining Special Weather Statements for Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and northeastern New Brunswick. While the timing for that risk spans late Friday into Saturday, it is noted that “the highest threat will be during the high tides during the day on Saturday.”

The storm will impact travel and travel services in the region. It is recommended to check on the status of flights and ferries frequently. Hazardous weather will be impacting a large portion of eastern Canada, including much of Quebec and Ontario.

Nova Scotia Power and the province's emergency management officials have been monitoring the storm, which is the same system that has impacted western parts of Canada and parts of the U.S.

"Most likely there will be some power outages and restorations underway and likely damages to some roads," said Jason Mew, director of incident management with Nova Scotia's EMO. "Public works and various other provincial departments and Nova Scotia Power are all ramping up to be ready to respond."

It's anticipated trees and branches could fall and break from the powerful winds and cause widespread outages, there's also a concern for the health of some trees following Hurricane Fiona's impact in September.

"We have seen quite a bit of weakening of trees and branches since Fiona," said Sean Borden, storm lead with Nova Scotia Power. "Since then, we have had over 100 people out in the field every day removing trees around power lines."

Borden says they have crews spreading out across the province, as this storm is expected to impact the entire province, but it's tough to predict the damage.

"We'll be in a better condition closer to the event and early Saturday morning to be able to provide customers with any restoration times," said Borden.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/aon9Vu7

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

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trinketcrow · 1 year ago

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Ok @threebooksoneplot here are my entires for Dark Noon! There are 5 options so read ahead for the breakdown…

Option 1, THE PAPERCUT™ also known as The Inciting Incident of New Moon/Dark Noon, pretty self explanatory, Edward still lusts for Bella’s blood and is haunted by this event which sparked more danger for her, he’s probably in his Rio dirty crawl space eating rats thinking about Bella’s papercut over and over again. Also the later allusion to her being his blood singer - 10/10 symbolism boi

Option 2, The bloody birthday candle 🩸 🕯️ gives peak birthday party trauma, looks ominous and horror movie vibes, harkens back to the plots inciting incident again!

Option 3, THE CLOCK TOWER! The ominous Volterra clock tower about the strike 12 as Edward lingers in the shadows before his impending attempt to unalive himself…Dark Noon much? Illuminated with the red full moon behind - spooky and intense, I love it

Option 4, A frozen rose for G, since you liked the idea of wintery nature so much - I thought this harkens back to Romeo and Juliet a rose by any other name!

Option 5, Cerberus guardian of the underworld! Since Midnight Sun has all the Hades/Persephone parallels, I thought Dark Noon would represent Hades (Edward) cast back to the underworld alone, the vicious symbolism behind cerberus’s growling faces highlights the dark and hopeless mood and also foreshadows the wolves 🐺

I’m gonna email you guys with my contact deets/name/pronouns! Love your pod I hope y’all choose meeeeeee

calling all terrible (and good) artists and designers: 3B1P is hosting a New Moon alternate book cover contest!

Design an alternate cover for our fake New Moon retellings Dark Noon (Edward's POV) and/or Euphoria and [Something] (Beau's POV) and win the chance to name a character in Dark Noon!

Submit your alternate covers by posting them to tumblr and tagging @threebooksoneplot OR attach the file in an email to [email protected] (any dimensions, jpeg or png, please)

Include your name/pronouns and a way to contact you if your entry is chosen!

Multiple entries ARE allowed (this is a free-for-all, go nuts)

Your entry can be as silly or as "realistic" as you like—we may end up dividing into silly/serious categories depending on the number of entries

deadline to submit covers is midnight EST on October 9th, 2023. Happy designing!

Three Books One Plot is a Twilight podcast with a twist: we simultaneously read Life and Death and Midnight Sun! This season: watch us boldly go where Stephenie Meyer feared to tread as we continue Life and Death and Midnight Sun into the New Moon era. More info here.

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magicalencanto · 3 years ago

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⊹₊ ⋆ ❝ Frozen ❞ (Part 2)

✎ ⁞ Camilo Madrigal x Female! Reader with ice powers!

✎ ⁞ requested by @lillycore

✎ ⁞ A/N: I feel like I've accidentally modified the request, so I apologize for that. I also like to mention that this is more like a sad ending to the first part, so there'll some angsty feelings.

✎ ⁞ date: 27.12.2021

Have you ever wondered, what had happened to characters after you heard this line: "And they live happily ever after."? Did they truly lived happily ever after? Were they life a dream? Did they truly forgot about traumas, abuse and obstacles they had to go through while reaching their dreams?

If yes, then good for them. But you were a different case. You didn't forget what had happened. No, you couldn't forget. The events from the past week was still vivid in your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt like you turned back in time and was still stuck inside your frozen room. So cold and lonely...

❝ I was so cold...so so cold... ❞

Sitting on the floor, your back touching the base of your bed, you keep staring ahead of you, with this emotionless stare. The only difference was that your room wasn't covered in snow and ice and Encanto wasn't haunted by the harsh winter. Everything went back to normal. Or so it seemed.

Because you didn't feel normal. No, you weren't normal. With your new white hair and dull eyes, you stuck out like a sore thumb. Whenever you went outside, which happened only two times, people stared at you with pinch of fear in their eyes.

❝ They're afraid that I'll cause another winter... ❞ You thought numbly. Apathetic. That's what you had became. You couldn't bring yourself to care anymore. Why should you?

❝ Whether I'll use my powers or not, people will be still wary... ❞

Sometimes, people tried to take you out, especially after they had noticed that you started to isolate yourself from others. It wasn't anything big but still, they wanted to at least see you outside. Even when Camilo begged you to go on a date with him in your backyard, your answer was always the same: no. No, no and no. You won't risk it again.

❝ ... ❞

Everything around you was silent. The silence was so loud, it left a ringing sensation in your ears. But you didn't mind that. In fact, you welcomed it happily. To you, silence and darkness became new friends. That's why your room turned into a dark cave, where no one was allowed to enter. Not even your parents.

In your room, you felt the safest. In this silence and darkness, you were the safest. No one could hurt you there and you couldn't hurt anyone. Just like you originally wanted, before that incident.

And you were more than fine with staying inside for the rest of your life. At least you won't be a danger to the people around you.

❝ At least they'll be safe... ❞ By that you meant, your parents, towns people, the Madrigals and of course Camilo. 'They' were everyone.

And you? You didn't matter. Your chest stayed hollow as it was a week ago. Nothing had changed. With warmth that had saved you, your emotions and connections to the world melted with the ice, leaving only an empty shell behind.

A sound of you moving around cut through the silence like a fired bullet. Slowly, you stood up from the ground and even slower went closer to the covered window. Hesitantly, you reached for the curtain and grasped it tightly. A little frost appeared under your hand, as you moved the material to peak outside. A steak of light entered your dark room, 'cutting' your room in half.

Your emotionless eyes glanced outside, at happy people walking around and chatting with each other. They were acting like nothing had happened. Like everything was fine...

Your hold on the material tightened as the frost spread around the material even more. Having enough of this happy atmosphere, you let go of the curtain and watched as the material fully covered the window, coating the whole room in darkness once again.

Standing in the same place, you looked ahead of you, your head empty. And then, you heard a whisper...

❝ Poor thing... ❞

It was so quiet...

❝ ...all alone... ❞

...so smooth...

❝ ...so broken. ❞

... so cold.

You lifted your hands and glanced at them, feeling something familiar. The cold. The familiar cold traveled from the pads of your fingers to very end of your toes. But this time it wasn't unpleasant and destructive. It was refreshing and welcome.

❝ You aren't meant to be here... ❞

You're right.

❝ ... you're meant to be alone... ❞

Being alone makes me feel safe.

❝ ... somewhere where you can breathe... ❞

Somewhere far away from here.

❝ where you can be you. ❞

Where I can be me.

Still, looking at your hands, you looked as they turned into fists and a soft blue glow appeared around them and strated to travel from your fists to your arms, crawling towards your chest and then going down your hips to your legs, untill you were fully covered in that soft light.

Closing your tired eyes, you let yourself breathe. You let yourself go. You let yourself feel free. And when you opened them again, you were somewhere where you belonged. Somewhere far away from Encanto. Somewhere where you were alone.

Where you could fully be you.

❝ Show yourself, my queen... ❞

#camilo madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal headcanons #camilo madrigal imagines #camilo madrigal #encanto #encanto headcanons #encanto imagines #encanto x reader #headcanons #x reader #imagines #encanto camilo #female reader #fem reader #magicalencanto✨

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imperishable-prayers · 1 day ago

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"...Oh. The dragons are gone." Gosh, she really was moving slow.

#oc muse: shia izanami #dash commentary #event: frozen peak incident

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haxorus-imp · 3 years ago

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I’m new at this sort of thing but I was hoping to request some kind of Newton x reader except Newton is a really big fan of sfw physical affection (hand holding, hugging, kissing, etc) and they are spending time together and Newton simply cannot get enough. If not for any reason it’s alright, and I appreciate you not only taking the time to read this but also write super awesome stuff :D

I actually think this would fit his character, tbh! Newton gives me a really 'lonely child' vibe. Like, he lives in a big creepy home with a deemed 'crazy' mother. All alone. So he would love some affections from someone that isn't his doting mother. Great ask! -- Newton couldn't really imagine how he managed to find you in all of Bunkum. You, out of all sack people. How he managed to find someone so...tolerant, understanding, patient, and kind...he'll never know. He was probably just lucky if he could make a guess. Nothing in the imagisphere could compare to you....and he had you all to himself. Something that he would never ever take for granted. Even now, as you both lay on the grass in the fields of Needlepoint Peaks, he nuzzles into your fabric. Nearing a complete sense of total bliss as you stroke his bulb with such a gentle caress. Containing your giggles as he wraps his arms around you to draw you in closer. How did it all begin? Well after the Titan Incident, Newton was pretty much on clean up duty and had to reforge the shattered bond between him and Bunkum. Which was a tall order at the time, as a lot of negative press was generated about him during that time. Which made working with others...much harder than usual. Then, while he was cleaning up some of his mess with his family and accomplices...among the volunteers, a peculiar sackperson caught his eye. There in the crowd was a...unique and rather dashing sack person. They were helping sweep up debris and rebuild some broken structures some ways away from him. At that moment, time had stopped for Newton. He just...froze in place as he watched you work. The way you moved...the way your hair fell...the sweat you would wipe off your hard working body... Newton was stunned. He was only snapped out of his frozen state when his father got onto him for 'slacking'. But for the rest of the day, he couldn't help but take repeated peeks at you. Trying to subtly find out just...who that sack person he saw was. Back then, you were as cautious as everyone else in Bunkum. Newton knew that the ire and caution of the residents of Bunkum being directed to him was just-deserved...he did try and destroy them, after all. Well...his possessed self did. But in the eyes of everyone else, they were the same person. Which didn't bode well for Newton most of the time. But that didn't stop him from trying to get close to you or to find out something about you. But with a couple of clumsy run-ins, failed attempts to impress you, and a couple of accidental...well...accidents, you finally started to tolerate Newton enough to challenge those that still saw him as a titan-puppet. Eventually...Newton made a friend. A genuine friend. Someone that vouched for him, spoke up for him, and listened to him and his side of the titan story. It was...such an amazing feeling to finally be HEARD. To be seen as something other than a troublemaking failure of an inventor. You both stayed close, even when most of the repairs of Bunkum were finished. During those times, you were invited over to Stitchem Manor so many times than Newton could count...and you showed up every single time. You never left him hanging or out of the loop. You included him in your personal events and even encouraged him to keep pursuing his dreams despite all the drawbacks. You were both a balancer and an encourager. You were his rock and his sky. You were always there when he needed somebody to vent to and you listened to all of his woes. His worries. His insecurities. His traumas. His self hatred. You listened to it all and comforted him every time he collapsed in on himself. You were always there to pick him up. You were the support he needed for so long. Pretty soon...Newton realized that just being friends wasn't enough. It didn't take a clever inventor to find out if someone is in love...and Newton got it...BAD. He was practically lovesick and couldn't stop thinking about you for even a minute. He wanted to confess...but he didn't want to ruin what you had between you two. He struggled with internal

conflicts for a while. Arguing with himself about your position in his personal life. But the days dragged on and the strength of his love grew ever stronger. Newton eventually started to struggle with CONTAINING his emotions, as they would leak out from time to time. This would range from mere compliments to giving you random gifts of things he knew you liked. Finally, you pretty much caught onto his shifty behavior and Newton finally exploded into a word-confessing waterfall. Admitting everything that he was feeling. All the warmth in his chest, the fuzzy internal feelings, the butterflies in his belly, and the thoughts of you plaguing his mind. He finished his bout with a verbal expression of his desire to become more than just friends. Newton couldn't really face you while he practically vomited out his confession in a slew of rushed words. He didn't want to look at you to see your reaction, if he was to face rejection now, he would probably break into tiny pieces. Like fragile glass. He kept his gaze low to the ground. Hiding his eyes underneath his egg-timer bowler hat. He expected everything. Rejection. Laughter. An awkward cough...just anything! Yet, something different and not quite as expected came his way. Instead of a roar of laughter, uncomfortable silence, or even a unimpressed huff, Newton felt your knitted hand reach out and touch the side of his bulb. Then a slight force of that hand pulled his sagging head up. Shortly after that, he senses a soft feeling of something pressing against his bulb-like face. Newton quickly refocuses his attention back onto you, now processing what was happening. You were giving him a kiss... YOU WERE GIVING HIM A KISS!? Newton allowed his eyes to widen in surprise as you pull back to look into his brightened optics. You let out a low cheeky chuckle before leaning in again and pressing your knitted lips to his wire. Giving him his first ever legitimate kiss. Newton felt sparks fly and his heartrate rapidly increased. Then...there was pure euphoria. Newton Pud, the once touch-starved inventor wannabe...was being kissed by the sackperson he adored...something went right for him for once. He melted into the kiss. Despite his lack of lips, Newton allowed the warmth of his light to mix in with the presence of your lips. As if he was giving you a ghost of a kiss in his own way. Those butterflies in his stomach took flight and lifted him into an imaginary sky...and Newton never felt so high. It was...amazing. Breathtaking. Pure euphoria. It was all he ever wanted...and it was all he ever needed. He just wanted to be loved. Newton pretty much fell totally in love with you after that. Any chance he got to take your hand or to give you a hug or a kiss...he took it, greedily. It was like bodily contact was a personal drug that he couldn't get enough of. Eventually, you both had hooked up and regardless of what others thought, you stayed with him. Making sure to keep him within arms reach and to stay in one another's' presence while out in public. His parents were happy for Newton. Finally, he had a reliable person to go to and help watch over him. There was also the offhand comment from Nana Pud about grandchildren, but Newton always ushered him and his lover out of the room while his father laughs at their expense. Regardless of the slight embarrassing comments, you and Newton decided to make a new life together. With most of the clean up of Bumkum done, regular cuddle sessions are a must between you two. Even now that you both have been together for a few weeks, Newton still loves and adores to be held and comforted. Just like what you two were doing right now in the present day. With him resting on your lap and you softly petting his bulb and allowing him to cuddle with you as much as he wanted. In the end, Newton was happy and he couldn't ask for a better partner to look after him and be by his side. Besides. Who needs the popit academy to create something? You both created something wonderful together...and the best part? Neither of you had to share this wonderful thing with anyone else.

#LBP #LBP3 #LBP Newton Pud #LBP Newton #Newton Pud #Newton x Reader #haxorus imp #anon ask #reader insert #Little Big Planet #IT'S SO FLUFFY

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blackcatfromthevoid · 3 years ago

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Remember the Time

Wolf x Reader

[*Note: My attempt at actually writing a fanfic wow. Have fun. Feedback is appreciated]

Originally when you first met Wolf, he acted like a cranky old grandpa. He's still a grump but just less than when you first met. Still even after all the time that has passed that the both of you been together, you were still in awe that somehow someway you managed to be with an alien. Often you found yourself fondly reminiscing about the past you shared with him.

It was a morning like any other. You were snuggled comfortably next to him. He was turned away from you his large body softly breathing. You simply observe his form and start to reminisce. Thinking back to the first time you met Wolf, you start remembering the circumstances that lead to where you were now.

You were working the night shift at the corner store. It was mind numbingly slow as usual. There were hardly ever any customers that would ever come in after sundown. You spent your shift mainly contemplating why this job even had a night shift or just looking at your phone. Bored out of your mind you decide to take some time to stand outside for some fresh air since it wasn't like there was going to be any customers anyways. Little did you there was a unexpected "customer" lurking around outside.

That’s when it jumps down in front of you, scaring you half to death. You had no idea what that thing was at the time but you didn't care to find out. You simply wanted to get as far away from it as possible. You desperately try and scramble back into the store. But that thing was much faster and stronger than you. It tripped you with it's long tail. Face to face with it now you saw it bare it's sharp metallic teeth. Saliva drooled from it's mouth like it was starving and you were a delicious meal.

This was the end you thought. You closed your eyes preparing for the final blow but it never comes. Before it had the chance to eat your face, something knocks it off you. You didn't know what just happened but you were just thankful that whatever or whoever it was got that thing away from you.

Frantically you run back into the store. You were on your way to lock yourself in the back rooms. Before you got there though you hear the store windows shatter. You hoped that beast that just attacked you wasn't back. Instinctively you jump behind the counter only peaking your head above slightly.

Peering from your hiding spot you see the beast that just tried to attack you laid out on the floor. It look badly hurt and was bleeding some strange looking blood. It tries to get back up but then you see Wolf walking in towards the beast. This was the first time you saw ever him.

You see Wolf deliver the finishing blow to the beast . It lets out a awful screech as it dies. After it's dead the Wolf puts some strange glowing blue goo over it's corpse. Whatever that stuff was made the body melt completely as if it wasn't there in the first place. Then Wolf just disappears before your eyes like a ghost.

You didn’t dare to move from your hiding spot. You were frozen in place and thought you were losing your mind. It was daybreak before you decided to even move. The store was still a mess from the event that transpired a few hours before. You didn't stick around to clean the mess up instead you got out of there as fast as you could. You knew that you'd have to explain the mess to your manager but you didn't care, you were going to quit anyway.

Somehow you crossed paths with him again. It was only a couple days after the incident happened. Maybe it was crappy luck or maybe it was fate but yet again you got mixed up in a pack of those beasts again. Wolf was there fighting a whole pack of those things. Watching him fight was pretty cool you had to admit, but it was not the time to admire him.

One of the beasts knocked a what looked like a gun from his hand during the fight. You saw it and managed to scurry over to it. You had saw how the beasts were surrounding him. Somehow you managed to fire the weapon killing one that was sneaking up behind him.

You were scared as hell during the whole ordeal not even realizing that you killed a beast yourself. Wolf of course notice what you did, he only let out a growl. Before you knew it he dealt with the other beasts and left. You were shocked you were still alive, even more shocked that you managed killed an alien and helped another. Little did you know at the time, this would not be the last time you two would cross paths.

You think back fondly of the next time you two met. You smile and let out a giggle thinking about it. Wolf looks back at you letting out a slight grumble.

"What are you laughing about little ooman?" He says.

"Oh I was just thinking about some things..." You reply. Your hand wanders playfully towards his dreadlocks. You let your hand gently caress them, making Wolf purr in the process.

You continued, "I was just remembering how we met..."

"Oh?" He says inquisitively. He turns towards you stopping your caressing of his dreads. He scoots you closer to him so now your head is resting upon his muscular arm. Wolf lets his other arm wrap around you and push you closer to his chest. Despite being with him for as long as you had, being this close to him still made you blush.

"What time were you thinking so fondly of?" He questions.

You chuckle,"Well I was thinking about the first time you let me care for you. Despite all the growling you did you still let me help patch you up."

"I remember that vividly, what's so humorous about that time?" He questions.

"It's just that back then you acted like a cranky grandpa," You say with a big smile.

"You still kind of act like that with me now," you said giggling.

Wolf doesn't say anything back and only grumbles at you. It's not the first time he's heard you say this nor the last. At this point he finds it endearing despite seeming annoyed every time you say it. On the other hand you find his grumbling cute in a way. He always does that when he gets annoyed, which is fairly often. He was grumpy by nature and you absolutely loved it. It made teasing him fun.

Even though you have lived with him for so long, moments like this with him were rare. He was either gone or busy most of the time so you savored times like this. You wrap one arm around his torso, cuddling him even closer to you, savoring the moment. You were definitely going to look back fondly on this moment.

#alien vs predator #predator #avp #yautja #monster lover #wolf predator #exophilia #terato #my writing

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gensokyohyakkiyako · 2 days ago

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I'll also be posting stuff on Izumi's journey through Frozen Peak as other threads continue. Basically the idea is that when interacting with someone who wasn't involved in the event, I'll play it as if Izumi was the one who resolved the incident.

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valhallanrose · 4 years ago

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Show Your Fangs

After years of feeling aimless, Astoria finds an unexpected avenue to reassert control.

You can find the rest of the Cursetaker arc of Astoria’s story here.

3.9k words. CW for attempted manipulation.

Title: Show Your Fangs by The Crane Wives

On the eve of their twentieth birthday, Astoria found themself climbing into the rigging of the Moorish Lady, thighs locked firmly around the rope and hair ripping free of its haphazard bun to dance in the breeze that made the sails grow full. The sky was starry overhead, the moon broad and full, and not a cloud blocked their light as they were guided back to Rosinmoor.

At this vantage, they could see the peaks of Castle Kintyre, the colors of the stained glass windows melting together into hues of rose and gold from the distance they were at now. Idly, they wondered if their family was waiting in the great hall to meet them before they sat down for dinner.

Castle Kintyre had seemed so big the first time they left. And rationally, they knew that was simple perception - of course it would have seemed literally bigger when they themself had been smaller in stature, but it was somewhat amusing all the same. The Whitethorn Citadel was perhaps the same size, if they had to hazard a guess, but...this had been their world, once. A life behind stone walls, in rolling fields and on rocky cliffs, on stone beaches and crystal lakes - a life that had once seemed utterly satisfying was as peaceful as it was positively boring.

Funny to think how big the world had gotten when they had the opportunity to see it all.

“...toria!”

They were pulled from their musing when a voice, somewhat swept away by the wind, managed to reach their ears. Astoria shifted their grip on the rope, looking down at the deck to see their grandmother standing far below with a somewhat amused look on her face.

“Are you really going to make me climb up there?” Myrna called playfully, tapping her cane on the deck a few times. “I’d love to, but I’ve only got one good knee, and I’d like to keep it that way for at least another ten years.”

Astoria cracked a smile, carefully unwinding the rope that had been wrapped around their right leg and letting out a small gasp as they dropped down faster than they’d anticipated.

With a huff and a gloved hand raked through their hair, they began the descent down, sliding slowly as to keep control, until they were perhaps three feet off the ground and could simply let go and let their boots thump firmly on the deck in front of Myrna.

“Time to go?”

“Soon, dear.” Myrna sighed, offering her arm to Astoria, to which they set their hand in the crook of her arm and frowned as they fell into step beside her.

“Why do I have a feeling I won’t like where this is going, granny?”

Myrna leaned against the side of the ship, smoothing silver curls behind her ear as she gazed out over the Strait of Seals. Neither of them paid mind to the crew, who began to prep the ship for it to pull into the inlet at the base of the Cliffs of Balgaire, knowing that they both would be more likely to be in the way than helpful on a journey at night and respectfully staying out of their way.

“You know I’ve been writing Malvina.” She began, and Astoria nodded, folding her arms across their chest and tilting their head back to look up at the sky.

Despite no longer being clan head, Malvina was well involved in the background of Canonach affairs - Astoria remembered clearly the days that the matriarch had joked that she had her nose so tied to clan affairs she’d be buried with it poking out of the ground to sniff out gossip.

With Astoria’s permission, Myrna had written to her not long after their enrollment at the Citadel, detailing as much as she could to explain what had happened in the weeks prior to keep someone in the family in the loop. And for all Malvina loved gossip, a secret laid with her would be locked up as tight as a vault should you ask to keep it that way. Not even her wife, Lorraine, would be privy to such a request - an agreement that Lorraine knew at least meant something was serious.

“I do. She’s written to me a few times - sent me new gloves for my birthday.” Astoria wiggled their fingers subconsciously, the leather of the gloves in question already molded to their hands like a second skin. “Is she alright?”

Myrna chuckled, Astoria catching her nod out of her peripheral. “Oh, she’s fine. Lorraine caught a nasty fever a few weeks ago, but they’re both right as rain. But...Malvina’s kept things quiet, as you asked. I wanted to ask you if you plan to tell the family while you’re home, or if we should continue to keep this between us for the time being. Whatever your decision, I respect it, but I would like to walk in and be on the same page as you before we face the rest of them.”

Astoria was quiet for a long, long moment, closing their eyes and letting the calls of the crew fill the gap between them before they managed to muster up the words they wanted.

“I haven’t been home since I was fifteen, if I remember right. Before Bulan. I’d like at least one last week where I know things will be normal.” Slowly, Astoria reached up, gathering their hair in both hands and refastening their lazy knot at the nape of their neck - letting their hands fall to rest on the sides of their neck as they glanced back to Myrna.

“Those first days in Galbrada...I had to repeat myself so many times, tell my story so many times, be picked at and interrogated and smothered so many times. I love my family, but I have no doubt it will be a repeat of that all over again.”

Myrna nodded slowly, turning to rest her back against the railing and folding her hands over the silver-wrought handle of her cane. “I thought that might be the case. Still, I just wanted to be sure. You’ve got a knack for surprising me, my little rascal.”

Astoria laughed as Myrna threw an arm around their waist, dragging them into an embrace and smiling as they pressed their face to the crown of Myrna’s head and buried their nose in her curls.

They would remain like that until the Moorish Lady finally came to a stop at the shores, and together, they took the first steps onto dry land - the first steps on the soil of their home.

* * * * *

Coming back was...eventful.

By the time Myrna and Astoria had made it up to Castle Kintyre, the hour was late, and though the family had already eaten - Myrna and Astoria had been unsure when during the day they’d arrive exactly - they were happy to linger and chat while the visiting Canonachs raided the kitchens for leftovers.

Many of the youngest cousins had gone to bed by the time they’d arrived, as well as some of the more daytime inclined relatives (Myrna grumbled about her own twin being a wuss for going to bed before the clock struck twelve) who would likely receive word of their arrival by morning.

Astoria did not miss the gap left by Senga, or their step-father, James, both of whom had apparently been perfectly lively until the Moorish Lady was spotted by a scout, but they couldn’t find it in themself to care. Their mother had a habit of making herself scarce when Myrna came to visit. Their grandmother was the embodiment of ‘hell hath no fury’, and Astoria vividly remembered the thorough reaming her mother was given after the incident in the library all those years ago.

It’d been kept largely quiet among the family - only Myrna, Senga, Astoria, and Malvina knew the whole story - but gods if it didn’t make the holidays tense.

Still, Astoria felt light as they left the hall, filled with joy for seeing their family again and looking forward to the following morning - they’d already received many early birthday wishes - when they’d get to see the rest of them over a traditional Moorish breakfast. The day had been long, as had the journey, and they were looking forward to crashing in the comfort of their bed and letting sleep claim them.

The way to their bedroom was muscle memory no matter how long they’d been gone. Down the hall, to the left, shortcut through the lounge, nestled in the corner with two broad windows looking out over the grounds toward the Frozen Sea and the twinkling lights of Rosafearn in the distance. Absolutely the best room in the castle - it had been Astor’s, once, until he explicitly stated the only person who would take over the space would be Astoria. It’d long since been painted and redecorated, but the old armchair set by the window had been his and would remain there until it crumbled the next time Astoria put their ass in it.

They closed the bedroom door behind them with a tired sigh, reaching to undo the buttons of their blouse as they strode across the room -

Only for the light to click on unbidden and a voice greeted Astoria from across the room.

“Hello, Catriona.”

Astoria yelped, scrambling to clasp their shirt together as Senga leveled them with a cool stare that somehow made them feel more naked than they actually were.

“Bloody - hell are you sitting there in the dark like that for?” They breathed, trying to calm themself as Senga folded her hands neatly in her lap and held Astoria’s gaze.

Astoria always knew they had their father’s eyes - somewhere between blue and green, depending on who was looking - but Senga’s had always been like ice. Pale, pale blue, almost white, and absolutely unnerving when she looked at you like you were something to be gained.

Something in her eyes made Astoria think they were, to her, the greatest prize of all.

“This is my home, I have every right to be where I please. Is it so wrong that I wished to spend a few moments with my child?” She asked, smoothing the single silver curl she had behind her ear and uncrossing her legs.

“...no, I suppose not.” Astoria murmured, sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed nearest to her and buttoning their shirt back up as Senga leaned forward in her seat. “How are you, mother?”

“Peachy, darling, absolutely peachy.” She reached for a sheaf of paper on the coffee table, leafing through the pages idly as she spoke, cutting straight to the point when she looked back up and offered them to Astoria. “You know, I’m hurt you never wrote to me once while you were away. You wrote to Malcolm, for birthdays, and you wrote to your cousins a few times...and Malvina. Oh, you wrote so many times to Malvina, you and my mother. I’m counting, what, thirty letters since you went to Galbrada?”

Astoria’s heart dropped like a stone into their stomach as Senga tutted, throwing the papers back on the table when Astoria didn’t reach to take them. She rose from Astor’s armchair, skirts sweeping across the rugs until she had Astoria’s chin grasped tenderly between her fingers and forced them to meet her gaze.

“Why would you hide something like this from me, darling?” Senga crooned, tucking a bit of hair behind Astoria’s ear. “You know you can tell me anything. We don’t keep secrets from family, remember? Secrets lead to strife among us.”

Astoria tried to turn their head away, but Senga’s grip tightened on their jaw, even if her sickly sweet tone didn’t change.

“You could have come home to Rosinmoor so much sooner. The Argyllians have always had magic in their bloodline, they were more than capable of teaching you whatever you could have learned in the Republic. They would have taken you in, taught you the ways of the court...no matter. What’s done is done. We have much to catch you up on.”

Senga released their jaw suddenly, reaching to smooth out their collar and straighten their shirt as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Do get some rest, darling. You’ll need it. I invited some friends of mine to visit tomorrow. They’ll begin teaching you the ways of the court, catch you up on the who’s who and the what’s what - several courtiers from different clans to bring you up to speed on each. It’ll be a process, surely, but you’re a quick study, otherwise I’ve no idea why you spent all this time with my mother. They’ll be here for about two weeks, so you’ll have to learn as much as you can before they go, and then your lessons will start to keep you on track.”

Astoria paused then, brows furrowing as Senga began to dig in their wardrobe to rifle through the clothing that was too stiff and formal for them to cart around while they were globetrotting.

“Mother, I’m only here until the end of the week.” They said, voice trembling slightly as Senga paused mid examination of a blouse with broad lace sleeves. “Granny and I have a dig to go to in the Fennekh Desert at the end of the month, I can’t stay much longer than that. I just wanted to see everyone while we had the time.”

The tension between them both was so thick you could have bitten it.

Astoria flinched when Senga took one step closer, then another, until she was right in front of them with that lacy blouse draped neatly over her arm.

“I know what you did in Galbrada.” She said softly, tilting her head as she looked down at Astoria. “A room of people - three of the best minds and magicians of the Whitethorn Citadel, and your bull of a grandmother - frozen by the blood in their own bodies at your command. Deny it all you wish, Catriona, but we both know it’s true.”

They tried to speak, but Senga’s voice rose, silencing them in a moment and making them flinch back as she stepped closer. Already being interrupted made them flush with irritation, but they bit their tongue, hoping that Senga would tire herself out in the end if they just let her keep ranting.

“Do you understand what that power can mean for you? The Canonach seat was always your birthright and it always will be, that won’t change. But you could become the greatest of all of us if you choose not to suppress it like you’ve been told all this time. That kind of power is strength, darling, a strength that will protect this clan so long as you hold the Barony.”

Astoria took another step back, feeling their hip bump the edge of their nightstand and quickly moving to fix the lamp as Senga advanced on them. They felt heat building in their chest, like a kettle on the stove, but they tried to tamp it down until their back hit the broad pane of glass that looked out into the starry sky.

“It is time for you to grow up. You will be twenty tomorrow morning, and it is time to stop gallivanting about carefree when you have duties to fulfill. I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long, I should have demanded you come home after Myrna supported that first year of your little temper tantrum.” Senga’s hand snapped out, grabbing their chin and forcing them to look her in the eye as her fingers dug into their cheeks. “Do you hear me, Catriona?”

Something...something snapped in Astoria then, and their own hand shot up, grabbing Senga’s wrist and ripping it away from their face with a strength they didn’t know they had.

“If you’re going to address me, mother, at least give me the respect of calling me by the name I’ve called myself for as long as I can remember.” Astoria spat, shoving her hand away and stepping to the side to try to work themself out of the corner they’d been physically backed into. “You’ve weaponized ‘Catriona’ every time I did something you didn’t like, every time you wanted me to bow to your whims and sit pretty like the perfect child you pretended you had.”

“How dare you -”

“How dare you treat your own child as you have treated me all these years?!” Astoria shrieked, voice breaking slightly as Senga seemed to freeze in place at their outburst. “How dare you make my cooperation a condition I had to fulfill to earn your love, make me feel like I had to prove myself over and over to you to earn scraps of respect?”

Senga’s face flushed, and she turned, tossing the blouse onto Astoria’s bed and moving toward the bedroom door. “I’m not going to speak with you if you want to behave like this. We can talk in the morning when you’ve calmed down.”

Before she’d even reached the door, Astoria had moved in front of it, flipping the lock and positioning themself in front of the mechanism so Senga couldn’t leave.

“No. No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to run away because you don’t like what you’re hearing. For once in my life you’re going to open your ears and listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once.”

Their blood was boiling, so hot through their veins that Astoria thought they were going to burn up, but the words kept spilling over faster than they considered putting a damper on them. And they didn’t want to, if they were honest with themself. It was the first time they spoke unfiltered to Senga, truly voiced how they felt, and it felt...it felt like flying. It felt like they had control for the first time in years, and they weren’t ready to let go of that feeling just yet.

“You said that the primary reason you even had me was so I could take the barony one day.”

Senga’s eyes rolled, and Astoria’s temper flared as she dismissively waved a hand. “You’re still on about that? Come now, let bygones be bygones. That was years ago.”

“I am not nearly done speaking.” Astoria said firmly, holding a hand up to stop Senga before she could continue. “But yes, I am ‘still on about that’, as you put it. I’ll carry those words in my mind for as long as I breathe, because it was what made me open my eyes to the truth of things. You don’t own me, my life, or my freedom for as long as I am strong enough to bite back. My temper tantrum, as you called it, was the first choice I ever made for myself without fearing what you’d say to me when I told you. And I learned from that choice, and every choice I made after, that you can do nothing to me if I don’t allow it. You are too selfish to consider a reality in which your plans fall through, thinking your way is the best way regardless of what I want.”

“If you cared about something beyond yourself you’d have seen in those letters how I told Malvina about my nightmares, about my fears, about how I felt like I was losing myself until I learned to control my magic rather than force it outward. But you only had eyes for what you thought you could stand to gain, what you thought I could give you, not my own well-being or my opinions on the matter. I’ve made it clear for years that I never wanted the barony, and the power that I have won’t change that. You don’t have to accept it, but understand it’s the way things are. Understand that I’ll take no more of this. You are no family of mine, Baroness, and you never will be if I have anything to say about it.”

Senga reached out, as if to touch their cheek, but Astoria dodged her hand and raised an arm to gesture for her to stay back. “Blood is thicker than water, Astoria. No matter what you say, you cannot possibly abandon your family so easily.”

“I prefer an alternative interpretation. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb - the bonds in the family I choose are stronger than those that are given by birth. And I choose Myrna, who has been more my mother than you ever have been. I choose to find a family who will love me for me, who won’t attach conditions to their acceptance and approval, who see me as I am and expect nothing more than Astoria Fenharrow, lover of bones and dirt and other things long since dead."

Astoria reached behind them and turned the lock again, opening the door just as the grand hall clock began to toll midnight and gesturing to the empty hall.

“Now get the hell out. Your house it may be, but it’s my goddamn bedroom.”

Senga opened her mouth to argue, but Astoria was already walking across the room, picking up the letters they’d sent to Malvina and tossing them into the cold hearth with every intention to use them as kindling for the cool summer night. She turned on her heel, and just as she took a few steps out into the hall, Astoria called out to her again with their tone clipped.

“Oh, and one more thing?”

Senga paused just beyond the doorway, looking back over her shoulder -

Something in Astoria’s face made her freeze then, going so pale it was like she’d seen a ghost.

“You lay a hand on me again without my consent, and I swear I will make sure you no longer have one.”

The door fell shut as Senga disappeared down the hall, and Astoria let out a trembling sigh, hands shaking as they peeled off their gloves to toss them on the table. They ran a hand through their hair, looked up to gaze in the mirror mounted above the hearth -

And then startled when they looked into their own eyes and met red, red, red irises that stared right back. Astoria took a few steps closer, removing their glasses and letting the chain catch them against their chest when they raised a hand to their eyes.

Sclera, black as night, making scarlet irises seem to glow as they looked back at their reflection and blinked a few times. They moved to wet their lips and froze when their tongue slid over a canine that definitely hadn’t been that sharp before, and with a cautious finger, pushed their lip up to look at the teeth behind it.

They had...fangs.

“Look at that.” They muttered, blinking a few more times and watching with intrigue as their eyes faded back to familiar white and turquoise and their teeth seemed to almost...retract, as if they’d never been fangs at all. Logically they knew they should be terrified, but they were high on adrenaline, and they gave their reflection a bit of a smile despite themself. They weren’t afraid - they thought it strange, surely, but at this point, strange was the name of the game.

“Guess mother knows I can bite back after all.”

#astoria fenharrow #my writing #manipulation cw

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calenheniel · 5 years ago

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Queen of the Ashes, a frozen fanfic | Part II

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | T+

They met as children, each with a secret. Plagued by tragedy, their paths meet again many years later, and their secrets are unraveled.

Part I | Updates: #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

Author’s Note: So grateful for the overwhelming response to Part I, published during Helsa Week 2020! In this chapter, I try to do justice to what Disney glossed over in the original film with a snappy montage: Elsa’s childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood in the face of trauma and isolation. As a result, I imagine that a slightly different young woman emerged from these circumstances than the one portrayed onscreen. Hope you enjoy.

»»————-　❈　————-««

II.

Years passed before the girl thought seriously again about the story of the boy who could make fire.

In the weeks and months following the prince’s departure, certain things about him lingered on in her memory – his unpredictable temperament, his ever-present frown, and his oddly warm, gloved hands – but most of all, his strange story continued to puzzle her young mind.

She and her sister pantomimed it again and again during their playtimes, pretending that the young prince was still in the room, reciting the tale aloud to them. She had told her sister the ending he had related to her before setting sail, and though she still found it suspect, it made for easier and more pleasant theater than the original one.

Inevitably, his absence could not be ignored, and they spoke of him less and less. They moved on to new games and new stories that could be acted out using the older sister’s talents, which had only grown stronger and more impressive with time. Their favorite remained building snowmen together, and they learned to keep a hidden stockpile in their rooms of carrots, coals, and twigs with which they could decorate her creations.

It was during one such occasion, two years after the boy’s visit, that their regular routine went awry.

In the midst of creating one snow peak after the other for her younger sister to jump onto, the older girl slipped, accidentally striking her sibling in the head with her magic. In the panic that ensued, the girls were brought by their parents to a mountain forest filled with strange and frightening stone trolls, who warned that the older girl’s magic would only become more powerful as she aged… and more uncontrollable, as well.

The trolls used their own magic to remove the girl’s powers from her sister’s memories, though they did not alter them otherwise. Afraid of her own strength and what other horrors it might inflict, she could not stop them from casting their spell, nor her parents from making a solemn vow to keep her locked away thereafter in the castle.

Upon their return, the staff were reduced by half and the gates locked as they sought to keep her safe—and to keep others safe from her. Where once she was only asked to keep her magic secret from those outside of family, she was now asked to keep it a secret even from her younger sister. Though the burden was great, the original incident had left her sister with a streak of white hair: a permanent reminder to the older girl of what her magic had done. As a result, she could hardly bring herself to look at her sister, much less speak to her or share her deepest secrets, without feeling shame.

Conceal it, don’t feel it, don’t let it show, her father would repeat to her in her darkest moments, taking her hands in his. Eventually she began to whisper it to herself without his encouragement, integrating the mantra into her evening prayers.

The sisters’ separation devastated their once close bond, with the older girl locking herself in her room for hours at a time and only leaving if absolutely necessary. She took all of her lessons, and even many of her meals, alone; during spells in which she refused to leave, her parents even brought her stacks of books to read to keep her occupied in her isolation. When she could no longer stand to be by herself, they would come to her room and read to her, though she tried to keep some distance from them.

Her younger sister protested these special allowances at first, and continued to knock on the older girl’s door every night with confidence that she would have to answer and come out to play again at some point. After a year or more of these thwarted attempts, however, she finally gave up trying to see her sister outside of certain prescribed events. She played alone in their favorite haunts of the castle – the library, the garden, the gallery – and took to speaking to the portrait of Joan of Arc for hours on end.

The older girl watched her sister with sometimes unbearable grief, tempted more than once to just open the door and resume playtime as usual. However, the memory of the younger girl laying on the floor of the gallery unconscious, her hair newly painted white, quickly quashed these temptations.

Only once in the year that followed did her desire to be reunited with her sister create cause for concern.

It was a beautiful summer day of blue skies and lush greens, and the girl looked longingly out her bedroom window at the bustling town outside the castle walls. Just inside of them, she watched as her mother and younger sister smelled and pruned roses in the garden, their smiles wide and full of warmth.

The girl’s hands tightened, and without realizing it, ice spread out from them, freezing the windowsill. She gasped and backed away, then began to cry, calling out for her father. When he arrived and saw what she had done, he sighed, holding her in his arms.

It’s all right, Elsa, he said, and stroked her hair. I’ll take care of you.

She continued to sob into his shirt until she fell asleep against him. When she awoke, she found herself on her bed, and her father stoking a fire in the hearth of her room. She rubbed her eyes groggily, and then made her way towards him, confused.

Was I asleep for a long time? she asked, squinting at the window. The ice on the sill was gone. Is it nighttime already?

Yes, my dear, her father replied, and wiped any remaining traces of tears from her face, resting the poker back against the hearth. And that’s all right. You needed sleep. He knelt down to her level, and from his jacket pocket retrieved a folded handkerchief. But I have a special gift for you.

He unfolded the cloth to reveal a pair of leather gloves. The gloves will help, he told her, slipping them, one after the other, onto each of her small hands. See? You’re good.

The girl stared at her covered hands, and something in her memories stirred, as if waking from a deep sleep.

So his parents told him couldn’t use his powers anymore…

Conceal it, her father began, waiting for her to say the next part.

She complied. Don’t feel it.

He smiled, and they finished together. Don’t let it show.

…and they made him special gloves that wouldn’t let his fire hurt anyone ever again.

The girl’s hands were colder than ever inside of the gloves, and she shuddered.

»» —— ««

She wore her gloves dutifully every day after that, and even slept in them at night.

When she was due for her first bath after they were given to her, she screamed and cried when her mother tried to coax her into taking them off, and then froze the bath water when they were finally removed. She believed they had some special powers that could contain her magic like the ones in the boy’s story, and so her mother relented, instructing the servants to allow the girl to wear the gloves, even while bathing.

It was a month before she tired of wearing them, hating the way the leather shrunk when wet. She paced nervously the whole night with them off, afraid that some great calamity would befall her and her family. But when the evening passed and daylight arrived to her room, illuminating its familiar, unfrozen features, she was pacified, and took to only wearing the gloves during the daytime. Newly confident, she became a little more sociable with her family, accepting their invitations to family dinners and even taking a lesson with her sister on occasion.

Sometimes, though, when she looked at the gloves at night, she remembered the next lines of the boy’s story – the boy’s fire burned through the gloves, and he was so upset from being lonely and scared all the time that his fire spread and burnt down everything else – and the memory made her shiver so much that she would clutch them to her chest, hoping that her gloves were different from his.

On one evening shortly after her twelfth birthday, she was following her usual bedtime routine – reading, reciting some poems out loud to her fireplace, and writing stories until she fell asleep at her desk – when she was startled by the sound of the wind outside whipping against her window. It was so loud, in fact, that she imagined it was crying out to her, begging her to be let in. The shrieks and howls became a mournful song, and she walked towards the window as if in a trance, turning the locks up as she imagined nature’s will commanding her to do so.

As soon as the window was unlocked, the wind blew it open so forcefully that the girl was thrown back onto the ground. She cried out in pain and winced against the gale, picking herself up with effort. She pushed hard against the window until it shut back onto its frame, and finally locked it again.

She panted as she closed her eyes and pressed her back to it, sliding down to the floor below in a heap. As she did, she noticed that the carpet beneath her was cold—as cold as if it had been frozen solid. She patted it with her hands in a fright, and then opened her eyes, staring at the wall opposite with paled features.

A trail of ice led from her seat below the window to that wall, covering it almost entirely in strange fractal patterns. She nearly slipped as she ran to it, placing her hands against them.

… and he was so upset from being lonely and scared all the time that his fire spread and burnt down everything else.

The girl gasped at the sight of her still-gloved hands on the wall, and she shut her eyes tightly, banging her fists against it until she screamed.

Her cries summoned her parents to her room, and she turned to them when they entered, clutching her hands to her chest. I’m scared, she said, sniffling. Moonlight bathed her figure, casting a long shadow on the frozen wall behind her. It’s getting stronger.

Her father’s gaze was tender, but pained. Getting upset only makes it worse, he reminded her, moving to hug her.

No, she snapped, backing away from him. Don’t touch me. I don’t want to hurt you.

He stepped back and exchanged a mournful look with the girl’s mother. His head fell to his chest. I understand, Elsa. But… he paused, taking a moment to kneel down to her level. Please don’t push us away. We just want to keep you safe.

The girl’s lip trembled at her father’s words, tears pricking at her eyes, but she blinked them back. She bowed her head to her parents, saying nothing, and did not move again until her parents agreed to leave.

Once they were gone, she went to the fireplace, intending to imitate her father by stoking the flames—but the fire had long since been extinguished, the remnants of the wind’s chill hanging in the air.

»» —— ««

Many years passed in this fashion, one after the other, until the girl forgot what life was like outside of the castle walls, or even outside the walls of her own bedroom.

Although she knew the gloves could not contain her magic, she continued to wear them. The original ending of the story of the boy who could make fire haunted her, and she feared what might happen if she discarded the gloves for good. At times, she could even will herself into believing that they had special powers again, and for a while this belief was enough to keep her magic at bay, and pacify her thoughts.

Nevertheless, she remained adamant in her refusal of her parents’ embraces, as well as the touch of anyone else. She insisted on building her own fires in her bedroom, and on bathing and clothing herself, limiting contact with the servants as much as possible. Her previous willingness to take the occasional meal or lesson with her sister likewise died away, and she returned to her practice of self-isolation, making exceptions only for her parents’ visits.

On one such visit during an early afternoon of her eighteenth year, sunlight streamed into the room from the window as they entered. She curtsied, her lips pursing with concern as she lifted her gaze to meet theirs.

Do you have to go? she asked. Her gloved hands knit together in front of her.

Her father sighed. You’ll be fine, Elsa, he said, and put on a half-smile to reassure her. We’ll only be gone for two weeks. And you can write to us while we’re away. He glanced at the ink stains on her white gloves for emphasis, and she looked down, blushing. We’ll look forward to reading your letters.

Yes, her mother echoed. You must write to us, every day.

The girl – now a young woman – bowed her head, and smiled in spite of her trepidation. I will, she promised.

Her mother smiled, and then glanced at her father’s pocket watch. Oh, dear—we really must be going, she murmured, touching his shoulder.

I’ll be with you in a moment, my love, he replied, and she nodded as she left the room, blowing a small kiss to her daughter before she left. The young woman curtsied again in response.

Her father waited until the door had shut, and then turned to her with a more serious look. Don’t be afraid, Elsa, he said. We are counting on you to be strong while we’re away—for yourself, and for Anna.

The mention of her sister made the young woman redden, and she looked down, her voice shaking as she spoke. It’s hard, Papa, she whispered, but I’ll try.

He smiled sadly at her, and began the refrain. Remember, dearest—conceal.

Her nose and forehead wrinkled, and she swallowed a grimace. Don’t feel, she continued.

Don’t let it show, they said together.

And with that, he pressed a kiss to his fingers, and then to the air, sending it to her; the young woman plastered on a smile, catching the kiss in her hand and bowing to her father as he left the room.

She sat by her window for the rest of the afternoon, watching anxiously as her parents embraced her sister on the path to the gates, and then with even greater unease as they were escorted through the gates by the guards, walked to the docks, and boarded the ship with their luggage.

They waved to her sister from afar, and then at her window, as the gangplank was drawn back onboard, the ship ready to set sail. She imagined herself bounding up to them as she had to the young prince when he left for his homeland, grabbing them and holding them tightly to her, refusing to let them leave.

She knew, though, that that could never come to pass—not with the way her hands balled up into fists until she could feel the snowflakes falling onto her nose before she saw them flurrying around the room. There was hate and resentment in her eyes as she regarded those hands, and she curled herself into a ball, burying her face in her knees, not wanting to watch their ship pass out of sight into distant waters.

He escaped, and went north, and became a King of another land. He never hurt anyone ever again.

She shook her head in her lap at the memory, and the snow fell faster around her.

»» —— ««

It was through that same window that the young woman stood in solemn silence and watched the funeral procession for her parents a few months later, their ship – and lives – lost at sea during a storm.

Her younger sister had pleaded with her to come to the funeral and to say something to publicly honor the memory of their mother and father. She had refused, telling her you wouldn’t understand, and staying in her room even as the younger woman trudged back down the hallway, stifling audible sobs.

She imagined that her sister had stood closest to the gravestones in the castle cemetery in her black mourning dress, a veil cast over her face, surrounded by their servants dressed in a similar way. The latter had probably been crying into their handkerchiefs as the priest had given last rites above the graves, gray skies casting a pall over the mourners. She supposed that as soon as the priest’s speech had ended, rain had started to fall on the crowd, who all at once would have opened their black parasols and moved back towards the castle in a slow river of darkness.

She knew the ceremony was finally over when her sister returned to her door, knocking lightly.

Elsa? Please, I know you’re in there, she said quietly. People are asking where you’ve been, and… Her voice cracked as she continued: They say have courage, and I’m trying to, I’m right out here for you, so let me—

Sniffles interrupted her speech, and her older sister could tell that she was struggling to get out each word.

We only have each other, she said at length, and a sob escaped her throat. Just you and me. What are we gonna do?

The older sister listened with a grieved, pallid expression as the younger cried, unable to do so herself. Eventually, she heard her slide down the door, and then the soft thump of a head against its surface. On the other side of it, she knelt down until she was also sitting, her knees clasped to her chest, and exhaled.

Conceal. Don’t feel. Don’t let it show, she whispered to herself over and over again until her throat was too dry to go on.

Around her, the room was encased in ice, with snowflakes suspended in mid-air.

»» —— ««

The death of her parents threw the young woman’s routine into chaos, upsetting the life she had come to know and grudgingly accept over ten long, arduous years.

With her regular lessons ended, she was expected to take over the duties of her deceased father—but only in part, as she could not be coronated until coming of age. These duties consisted mainly of signing stacks and stacks of regulations and reviews and pardons and sentences, with new papers seeming to appear out of thin air just when she had finished a load of others.

She recognized that the work adhered to her parents’ wishes of keeping her confined, and limiting her contact with those who were not aware of her magic. At the same time, she came to realize that these duties also kept her from attending meetings of her father’s council, where the decisions which were written on the papers she was asked to sign were made.

It seemed a shame, she thought, not to read what she was signing; and so, over time, she began to send more and more papers back to the council with written remarks and suggestions for revisions, or dismissing other requests outright as wasteful or poorly thought out. The work kept her mind and hands busy, and she thought little of the painful things that had so often preoccupied her in the past.

Her primary contact with the council was through a trusted servant cum adviser: an older man, Kai, whom she had known since she was a child. Since he had known her for so many years, she relied on him to work as a mediator and mentor to her, confiding in him to an exceptional degree on official matters. In addition to delivering new papers to her room to sign, he was responsible for relaying to her the council’s pleasure – as well as displeasure – with her actions, and was tactful in delivering good and bad news alike.

During one of his regular morning deliveries, he paused after setting the newest stack of papers down, standing before her desk with a look of concern. Your Highness, he said, drawing the young woman’s attention away from the table.

Seeing his expression, she placed her pen down, her brow furrowing. Yes, Kai? Is something wrong?

He nodded. Do you remember a Prince Hans of the Southern Isles?

A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down with some effort.

Yes, she replied, her palms growing colder. He visited here with his family when he was a boy.

Just the same, the servant confirmed. I’m afraid we’ve received some bad news. There was a fire in the palace several nights ago, while some members of the royal family were still asleep inside.

She shot up from her chair. Was he—

No, the servant interrupted. Thankfully, it appears that the prince wasn’t there at the time, and was unharmed.

She exhaled as if for the first time that day, gripping the edge of her desk for support as she sat down. After taking a moment to recover, she turned back to him, her lips set in a grim line.

But some members of his family were, she remarked, and the servant nodded.

His father, King Oskar, and three of his brothers, he said, sighing. It is truly an awful thing, Your Highness, especially since it’s hardly been a year since our own King and Queen…

He did not need to go further for the young woman to know where his sentence ended, and she looked wearily down at her hands, and then at the papers.

I know, Kai, she said.

… and his fire spread and burnt down everything else.

The memory jolted her upright, and she turned back to her papers, her face red. I should be getting on with my work, she explained, gripping the pen. And I don’t want to keep you from yours.

Of course, Your Highness, the servant said, bowing, though he studied her pinked cheeks for a moment longer than usual. But do call for me if you need me. I’ll be close by.

The young woman glanced up at him to give a small and final parting nod, and then breathed once she was alone again, leaning back in the chair. She stared up at the painted ceiling of her bedroom as a light dusting of snow fell around her, unable to tear her eyes away from it.

The final words from the strange boy’s story lingered on in the silence.

»» —— ««

In the months and years after the first fire, others followed, claiming more and more of the Southern Isles’ royal family along with them.

She was informed of each by the servant, and with each new report, his tone became less somber and more suspicious. She could hardly blame him, as she found the reports just as suspect, though she still urged the council to send supplies and goods to their woe-befallen neighbors in the south. She also sent letters of solidarity and condolences to the family which were, at first, dutifully received and acknowledged, and later went unanswered.

A part of her wished that she would have received anything from the boy, now a young man; but all the letters appeared to have been written by palace scribes, and signed by a member of the king’s council, rather than anyone from the royal family.

Her councilmembers’ concerns grew with each successive report, as well: where once they had written off the fires as resulting from poor infrastructure or other factors of insufficient leadership, they increasingly began to wonder aloud as to whether or not the tragedies were caused by accident… or by purposeful, malignant design.

None of the reports, however, indicated that the fires had resulted from foul play: in each instance, evidence had turned up which refuted the possibility of arson by domestic or foreign enemies. From torches tipping over into hay bales in the royal stable, to servants slipping in a dining hall with a candelabra, there appeared to be an explanation for everything that was just credible enough to end official inquiries.

Eventually, the only survivors left were the young prince she remembered, and less than a handful of his brothers, all of whom were either hermits, invalids, or otherwise unfit to lead. In a state of disarray, the Royal Council of the Southern Isles had recruited the elder brother of the dead king, who was himself close to death – and perhaps senile – to take over the duties of the monarch. Even in dire straits, it seemed, they would not trust the kingdom to the youngest prince, and they offered no public clarification for their decision.

The young woman puzzled for hours over each piece of news in her room, doing her own reading and research, and wondering at the peculiar series of events. The total silence from the boy – no, young man, she would remind herself – that she had once known worried her, and his childhood story continued to play on her mind.

The details of it, however – details that she used to have memorized so well that she could recite every line of it by heart – were fuzzier to her in young adulthood. All that she could remember was the ending: both the original, morbid one, as well as the one the boy had told her before he departed, which was considerably more agreeable.

Sometimes, she swore she could recall that the boy in the story had many brothers, and that he was mistreated in some way by them—but then she questioned if that was the tale, or if that was the reports from the Isles, their details mixing together in her mind.

#helsa #frozen #frozen fanfiction #iceburns #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

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