#that his winter coat grew out and made him look much bigger than he actually is

[mask131]

Cold winter: The Snow Queen

THE SNOW QUEEN

Category: Andersen fairytales

The Snow Queen (Snedronningen in the original Danish text) is without a doubt one of the most famous characters of Andersen’s fairytales. The story was readapted times and times again, to the point we ended up with characters such as Disney’s Elsa that are so far away from the original being people tend to forget who, or rather “what” the Snow Queen originally was.

Andersen’s “Snow Queen” is one of his longest fairytales, divided into a total of seven sub-stories, and the Snow Queen, despite being the title characters, is only part of four of those stories.

Story number 2: “A Little Boy and a Little Girl”

The Snow Queen is first described by the grandmother of a little boy known as Kay, and this description is aimed at both him and his little girl friend (who is also to become his girlfriend), Gerda. The two children are watching the snow falling when the grandmother describes the snowflakes are “white bees swarming”. Kay, who knows that bees have queens, asked if these “white bees” out there also have one, and the grandmother confirms that there is indeed a Snow Queen: she flies where her swarm is the thickest, and she is the largest of all those white bees/snowflakes. She never stays on earth, but forever flies among the dark clouds – often, at midnight, she flies through the streets of towns and look through windows. As she does so, “ice freezes on the panes into wonderful shapes of flowers and castles” ��� aka she causes “fern frost”. Gerda is afraid the Snow Queen might enter their home, but the grandmother reassures her that if she ever tries to enter she’ll throw the stove at her and she’ll melt in a puddle.

Later, one evening, Kay actually sees the Snow Queen himself. As he looked at the snow flakes falling, one suddenly grew larger than the others while standing on a flower-box outside – it grew so large it became a woman dressed in white gauze “which looked like a million of starry snowflakes linked together”. She was a fair and beautiful woman, but entirely made of ice, all shining and glittering. Her eyes sparkled like the stars, but Kay could see neither “peace” nor “rest” in their gaze. She nodded and waved towards the boy, but Kay was frightened by this apparition and left the window, only for something “like a large bird” to pass by moment later. On the following day, there was frost on the window…

Later Kay ends up with a shard of cursed mirror-glass in his eyes that make him see all beauty, kindness and goodness as weak, small and diminished, while exaggerating all ugliness, vice and nastiness. Later, he plays with his sleigh along other boys on the town’s main square – they tie their sleighs and sledges to the bigger ones used by adults, in order to be carried around. Now as Kay joins the boys, a great white sledge suddenly arrives, with in it a woman wrapped in white fur and wearing a white cap. Kay attached his own sledge to the bigger one – only for it to go faster and faster. The woman nodded to Kay as if they knew each other, and the little boy tries to set his own sledge free, to no avail – he cried loudly but nobody heard him, and the sledge that was as fast as the wind took him away, out of town and into the falling snow – from time to time “bumping” as if it passed over hedges or ditches. Around the vehicles the snow falls so heavily Kay can’t see anything anymore, and the snow-flakes grow larger and larger until they look like “great white chickens”. When the carriage finally stops, the woman stands up. Her cap and fur coat, which were actually made of snow, not of fur, fall from her body, and Kay suddenly recognizes the tall and white Snow Queen.

As she sees the boy trembling, she offers him to slip in her great white fur – but of course it isn’t of much help as her fur is just solid snow. Seeing he is still cold, she kisses him on the forehead. A kiss colder than ice, that strikes his heart so painfully he thinks he will die – but in truth leaves him numb and unable to feel the cold. As the white chickens of snow fly around them, the Queen kisses the boy a second time, which suddenly makes him forget everything about Gerda, his family, his home-town, absolutely everything. But then the Queen declares she shall give him no more kisses: if she kisses him more, he would die. When Kay looks upon the Queen, thanks to the cursed shard in his eyes, he doesn’t see her anymore as a scary being made of ice – suddenly she is a perfect and beautiful woman with an intelligent and lovely face, that doesn’t even seem to be made of ice. Together they flew in the sky on her sledge, higher and higher into black clouds while a storm blew around them, but to Kay’s warped ears it was just like “old songs”. He tried to impress her by telling her all of he knew – mental arithmetic, fractions, square miles… but all she did in return was smile, and so Kay felt as if he didn’t knew enough and needed to prove himself more. They flew over woods, lakes, sea, land, over the wild winds the howling of wolves and the cracking of snow, under black screaming crows and the clear, bright moon – and Kay feel asleep, in the “long winter night”, at the feet of the Snow Queen.

Story number 5: The Little Robber-Girl

Gerda went in search for the missing Kay, and after numerous fantastical adventures, end up meeting a living being who finally knows where Kay is. It is a wood-pigeon kept in a cage by robbers, and the wood pigeon describes to Gerda how it saw her Kay taken away by the Snow Queen and her white fowls – the encounter ended up very grim, as the wood-pigeon was with his family in a nest, but the Snow Queen blew upon said nest and as a result all the young ones died. The pigeon also reveals that she was driving toward Lapland, “where there is always snow and ice”. Later a talking reindeer confirms the tale of the pigeon by explaining that the Snow Queen has her “summer tent” in Lapland, over the sparkling ice plains ; but her real castle, her true stronghold is in truth at the North Pole, on an island called Spitzbergen.

Thus begins her journey to Lapland.

Story number 6: The Lapland woman and the Finland woman

Gerda stops by the small and ugly hut of an old Lapland woman, who tells her more about the Snow Queen: she tells her that the Snow Queen doesn’t live in Lapland anymore, but in Finland now, where she “burns Bengal lights every evening” (in truth, aurora borealis). She then directs him to a Finland woman who knows much more about the whole situation than her.

The Finland woman turns out to be some sort of benevolent witch or shaman, and the reindeer that escorts Gerda begs her to give the girl some charm or potion to make her as strong as twelve men, only for the woman to laugh that it wouldn’t be of any use. The Finland woman reveals to Gerda the existence of the cursed pieces of glass in his eyes and heart, that prevent him from being “human”, and that make him think that the Snow Queen’s palace is the most wonderful and pleasant place in the world. She also adds that as long as the pieces of glass are in his body, the Snow Queen will retain her power over him. She reveals that all Gerda needs to free Kay from the Snow Queen is what she already used through her journey: her inner strength, her strong purity, her child innocence. With that she should be able to free Kay, and if she can’t, then no one can. She then orders the reindeer to drop Gerda at the edge of the “Snow-Queen’s garden”, at a bush of red berries covered with snow.

Gerda is then left there, but has lost her shoes and gloves, and so suffers in the middle of the “cold, dreary, ice-bound Finland”. As she advances, snowflakes start to gather around her – but they do not fall from the sky, which is “clear and glittering with northern lights”. Rather the snow-flakes are said to crawl and run around on the ground, growing larger and larger. Gerda remember when she used a looking-glass to look at snow-flakes: they looked large and beautiful. But those around her? They are larger and terrible. They are things alive, they had the guards of the Snow Queen, and they take strange and bizarre shapes: some appear like big porcupines, other like twisted serpents, and some like little fat bears with bristled hair… But they are all “dazzlingly white” and they are all “living snow-flakes”. Gerda, unable to do anything, just prays to the Lord – and as she prays, her own breath comes out of her mouth like steam (which is normal since there is a great cold), but this steam then grows in size and takes the shape of angels, that suddenly walk on the earth – first tiny, then human-sized, they wear helmets and carry both spears and shields. These angel warriors start multiplying during Gerda’s prayers, and when she is finished that is a whole legion of armies that start to use their spear to defeat the Queen’s army of snowflakes, breaking them into little pieces while protecting Gerda.

Story number 7: Of the palace of the Snow Queen, and what happened there at last

Gerda finally arrives at the Snow Queen’s palace. Its walls are made of drifted snow, its doors and windows are “cutting winds”, the whole castle looks like it has been built by some snow-storm, and it has more than a hundred rooms, the largest extending to several miles. All are large, empty, cold and glittering – the only light source in the palace is the aurora above their heads. Gerda notices that there is absolutely no form of amusement in this place, no toys, no games, not even decent furniture, it is just a set of empty, vast and cold halls under the “flickering flame of the northern lights”.

Gerda finally finds Kay at the center of the palace, in an area called “The Mirror of Reason”. It is a frozen lake, broken on its surface in a thousand pieces, each piece identical to the other, all beautiful, and at the center of the lake the Snow Queen usually sits – but hopefully for Gerda the Snow Queen isn’t home. She left earlier for warmer countries, with the intent to cover the black craters of the “burning mountains Etna and Vesuvius” with white, and in her somehow twisted mind she is also convinced that her bringing snow and cold will “help” the lemons and the grapes they grow there. As for Kay, the reason he is at the Mirror is because he plays the “game of reason” as the Snow-Queen taught him: to move the pieces of ice across the lake like some Chinese puzzle, to form words. Despite the figures being just pieces of glass stuck together, in Kay’s twisted eyes it is of the outmost importance and extremely artistic – he tries desperately to spell out the word “Eternity” with these shards, because the Queen told him if he could create this word, he would be “his own master” and she would offer him “the world… and a new pair of skates”. But it is impossible, and his body is left in a disastrous state: his whole body is blue, almost black with cold, but he cannot feel it thanks to the Queen’s kiss, and his heart has been reduced to a lump of ice.

Gerda enters the room by using a prayer to calm down the raging and cutting winds forming the “door”, and her warm tears (as she cries upon being reunited with Kay) wash away the cursed pieces of glass. Kay, delivered from the spell, feels happy and human again – and they have so much joy the sharp pieces of ice themselves start to dance, and when they lie down “tired”, they spell the word “Eternity”. Kay then knows that it means he is free – and he prompts Gerda to escape with him before the Snow Queen returns.

Then the children escaped the palace, went to the Finland woman who warmed them up and healed them; and at the end of the story they return home to their city and grandmother, in the warm summer, as the “cold empty grandeur” of the Snow Queen’s palace fades away from their memory. The end.

- - - - - - -

In most adaptations of the story, the Snow Queen becomes the villain or the main antagonist – becoming a cruel and wicked tyrant, kidnapping Kay for malevolent purpose, actively opposing Gerda or wishing to bring an endless winter over the world. But in the original tale the Snow Queen is much more ambiguous than that.

She seems to be mostly a neutral spirit of nature – simply the embodiment of ice, snow, winter and cold. She is not actively malevolent – she clearly took a liking to Kay and tries to be pleasant with him. But the problem lies in her very dangerous nature as the embodiment of the snow itself, and it is also made clear that she does not understand that she harms and hurts the world around her. While she knows she might kill Kay, she also doesn’t realize that preventing him from feeling the cold doesn’t mean he won’t still be affected by it, and her mere passage is noted to kill little animals around her. In fact, the text implies that the Queen does not have any true emotions in her – she is repeatedly noted to be beautiful, but also frightening, just like how her castle is beautiful and glittering but ultimately cold and empty, and it is only because the cursed mirror-shard gave Kay an evil, cynical and depressed view of the world that he started to love the Snow Queen, the curse preventing him to fear her or to view her as nothing more than beautiful ice.

It should also be noted that there is a clear thematic behind the queen and Kay’s curse: Kay, under the curse, only finds beauty and interest in logical things such as mathematics and arithmetic, and disdain childish games and pretty things such as flower ; similarly, the Snow Queen doesn’t have any children game in her palace, and can only offer a complex abstract puzzle to spell out the word “eternity”. And it is Gerda’s childish love and innocence that save Kay and allow him to return to their childhood home, to be taken care of by their grandmother. The evil mirror, the Snow Queen, the cold all embody logic, intellect and reason in its most dry, sharp and cold sense – and it is fiercely opposed by the childhood world of games, toys and cute, little things from which the protagonists come, as well as by Gerda’s pure innocence and love.

But this thematic has often been ignored or forgotten by adaptations, who rather focus on the idea that Kay fell to the Snow Queen’s beauty because of the cursed mirror, and how it is angels summoned by a prayer that defeat her armies of snowflakes. This led to many adaptations demonizing her or even confusing her with the actual evil character that created the evil mirror: the “troll”, also called “the devil��� ; when in the original tale, the mirror has no actual relationship to the Snow Queen. Other people also like to explore the implications of why the Snow Queen kidnapped Kay in the first place, rather showing an entity that is in desperate need of some form of love (the original text did note that the Snow Queen didn’t seem to know what peace and rest were).

[emkini]

And finally, best boy

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[professorrw]

Safe House

Pairing: female reader x Steve Rogers

Request: Reader and Steve get stuck in a safehouse which just so happens to be a log cabin in the woods. It's winter and super cold, enter one of my favorite tropes: sharing body heat to keep warm. They end up confessing their feelings for one another and super fluffy cuddling ensues.

Warnings: fluff, love confession, mission, weapons, mentions of violence

A/N: I’ve decided to quit copying and pasting the same author’s note over and over. Just know that my taglist is open, my requests are open, and if you enjoy my writing please like, comment, and reblog! And when I get requests from AO3 I’ll put the request so you guys can have a kind of synopsis.

It started with a mission in Russia. It was winter and a dreadful one at that. The snow was coming down heavily. It was halfway up your calves and every step required far too much effort. It was supposed to be a quiet mission. You weren’t supposed to raise any alarm. You were just scouting. You were stationed on a hilltop with Steve and your job was to just observe for a few hours.

Binoculars in hand you surveyed the entrance to the compound.

“It looks like they have five or six of them at the gate. Two on posts right in front of the door and four on the ground. They’re all carrying guns.” You lowered your binoculars and pulled your mask back over your face.

“Hm… okay. Can you see past the walls at all?” He pointed at the iron fence that surrounded the compound. It was over twenty feet tall and impossible to climb.

You raised the binoculars back up and zoomed them in. You had to point them at just the right place to be able to even see the ground inside. It was crawling with guards and other personnel. If you were to break in there would be a hell of a fight.

“Swarming with guards from what I can tell. All with armor on and weapons in hand. Whatever their protecting must be pretty important.” Every word you spoke was creating clouds in front of you from how cold the air was. The snow was biting at your face and as soon as you were done talking you pulled your ski mask back up. You and Steve both were bundled in snow gear and coats but the cold was penetrating them.

“Here, you should eat something.” Steve held out a thermos and spoon and you took it. You unscrewed the lid and sat up. The whole front of your coat was packed with snow from lying on the ground and you batted it off with a gloved hand. You passed the binoculars to Steve so he could take a look himself.

You couldn’t see your partner's face but you still knew exactly the expression he was making. His brows were knit together and his lips were pursed. After knowing him for so long you knew every expression he made. It wasn’t just because you knew him for so long but because you loved him. Genuinely loved him. He was devoted to the team and to everything he did. He never, no matter what, gave up.

You had been partners for so long it was natural that you got close. He trusted you and you trusted him. There was a type of chemistry that made you work in perfect harmony. It was an unsaid understanding that had passed between you two. Steve was a gentleman though. He wouldn’t make any passes at you. It was hard to tell whether or not he felt the same way towards you. At times it seemed that his behavior was simple comradery.

You sipped at the warm soup while Steve looked around.

“We’ll be here for a few hours if we want to know their rotations. At the moment it doesn’t seem like anything’s going on,” he explained. “In the meantime we should eat and double check the equipment.”

You nodded and continued to finish off your food. Steve picked up his own thermos and pulled his mask down, revealing his face. He noticed your staring and smiled. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No. No, you look fine.” You looked away and smiled out of his view. You finished up your soup and pulled your face mask back on. You rifled through your backpack and checked over your equipment. Everything was still in working order so you packed it back up and leaned against it. Steve was an inhumanely quick eater and was already done with his food too.

He checked his bag and verified that his devices were working. For the next hour you both sat and took turns using the binoculars. Between viewings you would talk. Not about the mission but about random things.

“This wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t cold,” you said.

“It reminds me of Bangladesh in a way.”

“What?” you asked in astonishment. “It’s freezing out here, Bangladesh was warm.”

“Well other than that it’s similar. Remember? We were together scouting just like this.” Behind his mask a small smile appeared on Steve’s face. He remembered crystal clear the first time he realized he loved you. It had been almost two years yet he remembered all the events that took place. It was one of the scariest days of his life.

It was days after the initial scouting and the team was infiltrating the base. You two managed to get split up. Steve didn’t know where you went but then as he was running out he heard an explosion on the other side of the building. He ran back in- He couldn’t help it. If there was any chance that you were in there… 

He ran like his life depended on it. His blood was pumping and his heartbeat was loud in his ears. He covered his face. Dust had risen everywhere and he couldn’t see a thing. He yelled your name but there was no response. Someone collided with him.

“Steve! Steve, what are you doing? Get out of here!” Clint yelled.

“Y/N! Where’s Y/N? Have you seen her?” Steve’s heart was racing and he was frantic.

“No! Now come on-” Steve didn’t stay to hear the end of it. He ran past Clint and further into the building. He kept yelling your name. He was scared. His throat was constricted and he couldn’t breath. The wind had been knocked out of him. Nothing had physically touched him. It was the thought of losing you that rendered him breathless.

A voice called out. Your voice. It wasn’t ahead of him, it was somewhere to the Northwest of him. He ran towards your voice. As he got closer another voice was heard. “Y/N get back here! It’s dangerous! This whole place could collapse at any second!” Natasha’s voice.

“Y/N where are you?” Steve yelled.

“Steve? Steve! Oh my god you’re alive!” You both ran. You couldn’t see anything so the only thing you could use was your ears. You ran into him and wrapped your arms around him. Tears were staining the corners of your eyes and making them sting worse than they already were. Steve clung to you, convinced he would never be able to let go.

“You’re okay,” you whispered. “I thought you were here. I thought you got caught in the explosion.”

A choked laugh came out of Steve’s mouth. You were worried about him too. You were worried about the super soldier dying. You risked your life to run back and find him. He had risked his life to come back and find you. Because of all the people there- of all the people he knew- he was most afraid of losing you.

“Steve! Steve, look!” you leaned over and shook Steve, who had zoned out. You pointed to the compound where someone was shouting and soldiers were starting to run out of the gates. With your binoculars you saw someone. Someone that was looking at you.

Static came from your walkie-talkie. “Get out of there you two! They know you're there! Go to the safe house! Hurry!” Natasha’s voice was crinkly but you could make out the fear in it.

You looked at Steve for a second and got up. You put your bag on and started running towards the snowmobile. You swung your leg over on the back of it and when Steve got on you wrapped your arms around his waist. He turned the key and you were off.

You could hear shouting in the distance behind you. You could see a speck, which you assumed to be a soldier, at the spot you were using to scout. He was the first to get to the top of the hill and he could see you. Gunshots rang out in the air. You clutched Steve’s waist as you wove in and out of trees.

The voices died out after a few minutes. You were trembling. The wind and snow was whipping your face. You couldn’t look around anymore or else you would get frostbite. You pressed your face against the back of Steve’s coat. It was slick and cold but it was better than nothing.

You could feel the shift from being on flat land to being on a slope. Steve drove down the hill and past hundreds of snow covered trees. He drives for over two hours before he comes to a stop. You lift your head and look around. You had never been to the safe house but it was a nice little log cabin surrounded by woods.

Steve could see how violently you were shivering and ushered you into the cabin. It was pitch black inside and when you flicked the light switch nothing happened.

“Come over here and I’ll light a fire. You should take off your coat, it’s wet.” Steve kneeled by the fireplace and threw in a match he had lit. The fire grew bigger and the room was illuminated. You hung your coat up on the rack next to the door and shuffled over to the fire. Steve had already sat down and discarded his coat. You sat down as close as you could to the fire without actually getting burnt.

You were still shivering. The room itself was cold and the only thing being warmed was your front. The biting chill that you had been feeling for hours was still there. You rubbed your hands together.

“Are you cold?” Steve asked.

“Y-Yeah.”

Steve scooted closer to you and opened his arms. “We’ll be warmer this way.”

You nodded and he wrapped his arms around you when you got in his lap. Your back was pressed against his chest and you could feel the rise and fall of it. He was nice and warm and even though you were freezing and hiding from bad people you wished that you would be in his arms more often.

“This isn’t so bad,” Steve said. His voice was right behind your ear and you could feel his breath against it when he spoke. It sent shivers throughout your body.

You let out a little nose laugh. “You don’t think so?”

“No, because I’m with you. Nothing seems that bad when I’m with you.”

A fuzzy feeling erupted in your body. You turned around to look at Steve. His kind blue eyes were looking into yours and a soft smile was on his face. You swallowed. This was the first time you had been in such close proximity. Your face was inches from his. You could just lean in a few centimeters and you would kiss.

Steve noticed that you were looking at his lips. He couldn’t judge you- he was looking at your lips too. Your eyes flickered to each other and you both leaned in. Your eyes closed and your lips met. All that waiting, all those years of built up feelings had finally come out.

You parted and Steve pressed his forehead against yours. You reached your hand out and pressed it against Steve’s cheek. He placed his hand over yours.

“Y/N I love you.”

“I love you too Steve.” You weren’t breathless but the way you said it was like you had been holding it back for years. And you had. A tear pricked at the corner of your eye and you laughed. Who knew that the thing that would make you two confess was being trapped together in a safe house?

You scooted back against Steve and he wrapped his arms around you again. He kissed the top of your head and you sat like that until you eventually moved to the couch. A few hours later your walkie-talkie beeped and you were alerted that Natasha was on her way to pick you two up. Oh how delighted she would be when she found out what had happened.

[lupinlongbottom]

Entirely

Cedric Diggory x Reader

Summary: Being best friends with a Triwizard Champion had it’s challenges, but being tossed to the bottom of the Black Lake was something that (Y/N) never accounted for. 

Prompt: Hi! Could I request #9 from the prompt list with Cedric? Thank you so much :) - Anon

9. “You’re safe here, I got you.”

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none, maybe a swear (like always)

A/N: Cedric Diggory. Golden Boy. Yep. 

__

Cold. (Y/N) had never felt a cold like this, like ice coating her skin wherever the air touched her. To be fair, it was all in likely possible that ice was coating her skin, as she was wading neck-deep in the Black Lake near the end of the winter months, her vision blurred with water.

“You’re safe here, I got you,” a voice said, pulling her into his side.

When had she been thrown in the Black Lake? Why was she struggling to keep herself afloat? And why—why was Cedric holding onto her so tightly?

—

The walk to Herbology was always a loathsome one. (Y/N) always pressed her luck with her class schedule—Potions being directly before Herbology—leaving only a few short minutes to venture from the dungeons to the greenhouses without being late—a feat she endured every week. Of course, walking in with a Prefect may lessen the chances that Sprout’ll go off at her, hopefully.

“Cedric,” (Y/N) groaned, her shoulders slouching forward. “I don’t wanna go to Herbology…”

“Oh come on,” Cedric laughed, patting (Y/N)’s back as they ascended the steps. “We’ve got a few minutes of nothing before fifty minutes of something, enjoy the moment.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) mumbled, fiddling with the textbooks in her arms. “Nothing, just the way I like it.”

“Exactly,” Cedric laughed, effortlessly scooping the books out of (Y/N)’s arms, holding them as if they were nothing. “Enjoy it.”

“Only,” (Y/N) pointed a finger towards Cedric, “only if you promise me that you’ll make more funny faces today. I have a feeling todays lecture is going to be so bleak and boring—Godric, Ced, I might just pass on if you don’t do it,” (Y/N) sighed dramatically, falling into Cedric’s side. The boy laughed, pushing (Y/N)’s figure up.

“Alright,” Cedric said, adjusting the books, “I promise.”

He had been making those faces in Herbology since first year. Neither of them can remember why Cedric began to make those faces, but the memory of (Y/N) nearly toppling to the floor in laughter is etched into their minds forever. The detention the two of them served after was memorable enough, too. Cedric from then on made it a habit to make the faces—if only one or two, not wanting to push his luck with detention again—in each Herbology class that they shared, knowing how much she looked forward to it. Her smiles could rival the sun and stars, but Cedric wouldn’t ever dare tell her that.

“Good,” (Y/N) hummed, a spring in her step.

Cedric and (Y/N) continued to walk along the halls, enjoying nothing together. It was hard to ignore the staring, however. Girls from every year gawked at Cedric as he bounded through the halls—this was nothing new, Cedric was traditionally handsome— but being a Triwizard Champion now was just the icing on the cake. That, and the added pressure of a dance—one in which Cedric Diggory would need a date for—all compiled to the whispers and giggles that surrounded his every moment.  

“Do you ever get tired of it?” (Y/N) asked, leaning closer into Cedric.

“What? The stares?” Cedric asked, glancing around. A group of Hufflepuff first years quickly turned away at the eye contact with the Champion. “They’re all interested in who I’m taking to the Yule Ball,” he shrugged, “at least, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Of course they are,” (Y/N) laughed, “they all want you to take them, that’s why they’re so interested,” she elbowed Cedric in the side, “you have to know that much, right?”

“I don’t know what makes that so interesting to begin with,” Cedric said, stepping out onto the dirt path to the greenhouses. “Obviously I need to ask someone, seeing as I’m a Triwizard Champion—”

“Exactly! You need to ask someone,” (Y/N) said, hopping down the cobblestone steps. “You’re smart, kind,” she began ticking on her fingers, “funny in all the right ways, have a decent smile—”

“Decent?”

“And you’re quite a handsome fellow,” (Y/N) ended, nodding her head lightly. “Quite the catch, on all accounts. Any girl would be mental if they didn’t secretly wish you’d ask them to the ball,” (Y/N) said, pawing for her books.

“Any girl?” Cedric said, smirking lightly. 

“Yes—Cedric, give me my books,” (Y/N) said, growing annoyed, her cheeks growing hot. Cedric tightened his grip on the stack, just a bit, if only to tease her.

“Now, where’re your manners?” Cedric laughed, holding the books closer to his chest. “No please?”

“Come on, Ced,” (Y/N) said, hopping in front of the Hufflepuff, stopping him in his tracks. His smirk didn’t fade.  “Please may I have my books?”

“Alright,” Cedric said, holding a book out. (Y/N) reached forward, but just as her fingers grazed the cover, he pulled it upward. “On one condition—”

“Condition!? Diggory, we’re going to be late—”

“Go to the ball with me,” Cedric said, lowering the book. (Y/N)’s eyes scanned across Cedric’s face, as if to decipher the language he had just spoke. “I mean it, honestly. If I can get all these girls to stop staring—well—might as well ask you, right?”

“Is that why?” (Y/N) said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just to get the staring to end?”

“Of course not,” Cedric said, almost scoffing. “You’re my best friend, and I want to enjoy the dance as much as I can—no pressure to make it a date with a girl I have little interest in spending in the night with. As far as I see it, going with you was my only option,” Cedric shrugged, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “Unless… of course, if you’ve already been asked?”

“No,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head. “I haven’t been asked. Fred Weasley was making a joke of it in Charms yesterday, but never actually asked…”

“Would you’ve said yes? If Fred asked, I mean?”

“No,” (Y/N) smiled, noting Cedric’s worried expression. “Of course not. You know how I feel about those Weasley heathens—”

“Heathens… right,” Cedric laughed, gently placing the books back into (Y/N)’s hands. “Consider it a date, then.”

“Right,” (Y/N) said, nodding curtly. “You, me, the Yule Ball… perfect.”

—

How unprepared she was, to go to a ball in the first place—let alone be the date of a Triwizard Champion. (Y/N) spent hours trying to prefect her hair, tucking any loose strands that may have fallen out of place. Why was she getting so worked up? It was just Cedric. She’d known the Hufflepuff since they were little, growing up nearly neighbors—homes only fields apart. (Y/N) knew that Cedric would think that she looked fine—beautiful—regardless, but now the added pressure of being on his arm, the eyes that’ll be glued to her… it was daunting.

“You look lovely,” Cedric said, greeting (Y/N) outside of the Great Hall. Somehow she managed to slip on her dress and make it on time, nearly seconds to spare. “As always, of course.”

“You do too,” (Y/N) smiled, noting Cedric’s dress robes. They were plain, but distinguished, entirely charming. It was no surprise that he had such elegant looking robes, they were probably a gift from his parents. “Your robes look nice.”

“They were a gift, from my father,” Cedric said, glancing down at his shoes—perfectly polished, of course.

“Of course they were,” (Y/N) chuckled, feeling herself grow lighter. All it took was a few words from her best friend to was any sort of discomfort she had. A quick glance to her left allowed her to see Harry Potter—the other Hogwarts Champion—squabbling with the younger Weasley brother. (Y/N) had always admired Harry, but when his name was also called for the Triwizard Tournament, overshadowing Cedric, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of resentment.

“McGonagall said that the Champions kicked off the dance,” Cedric said, leaning closer to (Y/N). “Start with a waltz—I think, could be another dance—”

“What? A dance in front of everybody?” (Y/N) felt woozy, her head growing light. “Cedric! I don’t know how to dance!”

“Sure you do,” Cedric said, resting a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. His grip was light, but firm, fingers barely pressing into her skin. Grounding her. “You dance around the fields practically every summer—fireflies and all—I’ve seen you dance,” a chuckle, the sound feather light, escaped Cedric’s lips.

“That’s not dancing,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself tense up. “That’s me messing around—you pulling out some music—just hopping around!” She glanced down at her feet, her toes neatly pointed together, closed off. “I can’t classically dance—”  

“Neither can I.”

“What?” Like lightning, (Y/N)’s head shot up, eyes connecting with Cedric’s grey ones. “You can’t…? But I though that you of all people—Cedric Diggory, of all people—could—”

“(Y/N),” Cedric said lightly, hardening his gaze. “You know me. Stop with that ‘Cedric Diggory’ bull, talking as if I’m this bigger and greater person than the kid you met years ago. I’m not. Different, I mean.”

“But you are, Cedric,” (Y/N) pressed, pushing his hand away. “You say that you’re the same kid—the same kid who was bawling his eyes out for his mum, broken arm in tow—but you’re different now, I am too.”

“Doesn’t mean I can dance,” Cedric laughed, “look, (Y/N), you know me better than anyone in this place,” he waved his hand to the vanishing crowd, all headed into the Great Hall. “So, please just… dance with the kid with the broken arm?”

“Well,” (Y/N) took a breath, weighing her options, “I reckon ‘dance’ is a glorified term if we both can’t—we’ll be the laughing stock of the ball, Ced.”

“Let’s let them laugh, then,” Cedric said, holding his arm out. “After all, I am a Hogwarts Champion,” a grin that sparkled like the candles above adorned his face.

Professor McGonagall looked stressed, her features stiff, She was rounding up the Champions for their grand entrance. Harry awkwardly took his date’s arm, the girl grew as stiff as a board, almost unwilling. The other two Champions followed suit, each of their dates gladly adorning their arms.

“Let’s do this, Diggory,” (Y/N) said, looping her hand around Cedric’s arm, resting it lightly. She could’ve sworn she felt Cedric seize up, for just a moment—frozen in place—holding his breath.

She was holding hers, too.

—

Finally she could breathe again, out of the water and on dry land. Turns out, she—along with a few other students—was just a pawn in the Triwizard Tournament, a means to an end and prize to be saved. When McGonagall had called (Y/N) to her office, she assumed it was about her marks. Why else would an educator need to talk so urgently to you? The idea of alternatives never crossed her mind.

“Are you warm enough?”

Cedric hadn’t left (Y/N)’s side the entire time they had been above the water, always attentive, always doting.

“As warm as I can be,” (Y/N) nodded, “are you sure you don’t need your own towel back?” Cedric had not only given (Y/N) his towel, but begged a few of his fellow Hufflepuff friends to loan their scarves and the like, (Y/N) covered in the bright yellow hue.

“Of course not,” Cedric said, shaking his head. “I knew what I was getting into—jumping into the lake at the end of February—you didn’t,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Still, you look almost blue,” (Y/N) said, prying an extra scarf from around her neck, looping it around his own. “There, at least your neck will be sort of warm—”  

“(Y/N)—”

“Just pretend, okay?” (Y/N) laughed, pulling the end of the fraying scarf lightly. “Besides, I’m just about dried off anyway—hair’s a bit damp—but I reckon I can deal with that later,” she pressed a finger to Cedric’s chest. “You, on the other hand, just got yourself to first place!”

“Tied for first place.”

“Regardless,” (Y/N) said, waving her hand. “That’s still amazing, Ced!” She felt herself swell with pride, her happiness emanating from her smile. A welcoming warmth spread to her cheeks—a nice change from the cold. “You’re amazing…”

“I—uh—thanks,” Cedric said, barely making the words out. He fiddled with the scarf. “So…”

“So…”

Had it always been this awkward? Just the two of them? Surely everyone had already given Cedric his congratulations, leaving the pair alone on the lakeside—alone. While it would’ve been just as easy to retreat to the castle with the crowd of people, Cedric and (Y/N) took the moment to breathe—enjoy their moment of solitude—even if it was entirely a bit too cold outside.

“You—uh—missed the Weasley twins,” Cedric said, eyes locked on his scarf. “They were taking bets on the challenge.”

“Of course they were,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling her gaze grow towards the horizon, gloomy sky reflecting off the lake. “I missed quite a bit, down there.”

“I’m sorry, again, for that—”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” (Y/N) laughed, turning back to Cedric. “You’re not the one who put me down there!”

“Might as well have,” Cedric said, releasing the yellow fabric from his fingers.

“That’s ridiculous, Cedric! You didn’t—”

“You know why you were down there, yeah?” Cedric snapped, his grey eyes meeting (Y/N)’s in what felt like forever. “Right?”

“Well, no,” (Y/N) said honestly. “I’ve been trying to figure out why—I mean, me, Fleur’s sister, the younger Weasley boy and that Granger girl? Why us?”

“So you didn’t hear, then…” Cedric said, his cheeks growing a bright shade of rouge. “I thought that maybe—uh—that you maybe heard why you were down there and—uhm—well…”

“Cedric, you’re rambling,” (Y/N) said softly. He had a nasty habit of doing that, (Y/N) had seen it a few times before, but it only ever happened in a class he was unsure of—never talking to her.

“Right,” Cedric said, clearing his throat. “Each of the people in the lake were something that we the Champions would sorely miss—like the golden egg had sung about—so…” he twiddled his thumbs. 

“Oh…” (Y/N) said, feeling her body relax. “Oh! Of course it would’ve been me then!” She laughed lightly, feeling herself grow light. “Here we thought it would be your broom all this time! Who would’ve thought that they were going to take actual people!”

“Of course?” Cedric mumbled, his brows furrowed.

“Well, yeah,” (Y/N) said, her expression matching Cedric’s. “I mean, you’re my best friend?”

“Well… Krum’s was Hermione Granger… and they…”

“They…” (Y/N) felt her chest fall, for a moment. Victor Krum had taken Hermione to the Yule Ball, entirely in a more-than-a-friend way. “Oh.”

“I mean, of course you’re my best friend!” Cedric corrected quickly, noting (Y/N)’s change in expression and demeanor. “Of course I would sorely miss you! You’re my best friend and I’d miss you and—”

“Cedric—”

“Forget I ever said anything to insinuate otherwise—”

“Cedric!” (Y/N) nearly screamed, her hand gripping Cedric’s tightly, effectively shutting him up. His grey eyes flicked over their connected hands. “Cedric,” she repeated, softer this time, “I guess I didn’t realize that…well…I had felt otherwise, until today, I think.”

“Felt otherwise?”

“About us.”

“O-oh.”

“I know it’s not ideal—probably ruins our friendship—but, when you pulled me out of the lake… I was struggling to keep afloat, but you were there—like you always were,” (Y/N) tightened her grip on Cedric’s hand. “Made me feel safe,” she looked up at Cedric, “you always make me feel safe. I guess… I think—no, I know that I—”

Cedric wasted no time, his lips crashing onto (Y/N)’s quickly. It was soft, like all things Cedric had done before, light as a feather but entirely full of feeling. The kiss lasted no longer than a few moments, but the lingering tingles on each of their lips left much to be desired.

“When,” Cedric began, his face shining with the brilliance of roses. “When I realized you weren’t there, to cheer me on, I realized that you were the thing at the bottom of the lake,” his eyes looked hardened, like stone. “I couldn’t even breathe, (Y/N). I couldn’t see straight, hardly could hold my wand when casting my charm… I felt so helpless.”

“Cedric…”

“So when I finally got to you—Godric, I got you—it felt like like the weight of the world was pulled off my shoulders,” Cedric said, his lip quivering. “I felt it at the dance too, when you were dancing without a care in the world, dancing with me,” he gulped. “I knew it then, too.”

(Y/N) didn’t speak, she didn’t know how—or what—to say.

“(Y/N),” Cedric said, his eyes locking with hers once more. “I care so deeply about you, I—”

“I love you,” (Y/N) said, finally finding the words. Cedric’s eyes grew wide, his mouth hanging slightly agape. “What?” (Y/N) giggled. “I wanted to be the one to say it first, seeing as you cut me off before…”

“No,” Cedric shook his head, his mouth twisting into a smile. “I love you, too. Always have, I think,” he felt his cheeks grow tired of his grin, aching in the most pleasant way. “Can I… kiss you? Again, I mean?”

“Yes, you may,” (Y/N) nodded, her lips curling into a small smile of her own, feeling the gentle pass of his lips against her own once more. It was tender and loving.

Entirely like Cedric.

__

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[electronictimetravelmoose]

Five-maggedon

Warnings: angst, mention of suicide, lost of love one, apocalypse, mention of killing, gaslighting

Word Count: ~5.5k

Summary: What should have been a normal trip to the store ends with landing in an apocalyptic wasteland with a boy you never saw before.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Requested by my lovely Honey aka my wife @satans-bae-and-queen 

A/N: Okay so my wife and I were at this for a while, if it looks shit I am very sorry. Fuck this.

--------------------------------------------

This wasn’t exactly how you thought your day would pan out.

Everything was ordinary when you stood up that morning. Your mom woke you and your younger brother at seven o’clock for breakfast, which went quietly and uneventful. Your father left for work at exactly 7:45 am as he always does, your brother was sitting in his room playing with the many toys he had and you started to study for school. But that got cut short when your mother asked you to get something from the store for her. It was the norm to send you when she was busy. Absolutely normal.

You changed out of your pyjamas into a pair of jeans and a sweater and soon you were out in the cold with additional boots and a coat. You were wandering down the snowy streets skipping a few steps once in a while on your trip to the store when it happened.

A boy the same age as you was wandering down that exact same street as well but not in the same time as you. Well not in that moment. 

Five was making his second jump from a sunny summer day to a snowy winter day. He was ecstatic from his own powers to jump through time so easily which only fueled his ego more. Five wanted to make another jump, a much bigger jump to prove to himself and his family that he could. He wanted to see how far he can get and rub it under his father's nose to show him that he didn’t need more time or training to do so. Five knew and saw that he was ready and capable of challenging this new ability. So Five started to concentrate when...

You swore that this boy dressed in a weirdly looking school uniform wasn’t there a second before but it didn’t make much of a difference now because when you collided with him everything around you started to turn and get blurry before you landed on the floor. 

“Shit.” , you groaned out in pain before you opened your eyes.

Shock washed over you as you took in your surroundings, your pain instantly subsided at your new view and panic kicked in. This wasn’t the street you were on a second ago, or that’s at least what you thought, because everything around you was in ruins. Everywhere you looked there was nothing left but the last remains of the buildings that once stood at their places. Things were burning and nobody seemed to be there besides you and that boy. Who was, by the look on his face, just as scared and full of panic as you were. 

The boy's name, who you can thank for landing in this mess with, was Five. He was part of The Umbrella Academy which you had heard of in the news. Kids, all born on the same day, with different superpowers who fight crime and save the day. Almost sounded like a bliss. His powers, as he told you, were jumping through space and now time as well and oh boy how he has proven that. He apologized for bringing you accidently with him and promised he would get you back home as soon as his powers would work again. You couldn’t do anything else but believe him for the time being and hope that he kept his promise in the end.

Time went on and you started telling him about you as well, only finding it fair as he told you quite a lot about himself and explaining how exactly his powers work. To the surprise of both of you there was a lot in common between you. You were both thirteen years old with only a few weeks in between, always learning and seeking to be the smartest in the room, the competitiveness you held and the both of you always having to adapt to new situations. 

Five in his training and struggling to be on his father’s good side at all times and you for attempting to fit in with your adoptive family, in school and overall life in general. And that was also something you had in common, being adopted.

A few days turned into a few weeks, then into a few months and suddenly a year has gone by.

You and Five were still stuck in the apocalyptic future with no sign in the progress of bringing you two back home. You still haven’t given up hope that maybe one day he would bring you back, but that hope was minimizing itself by the day. 

Were you angry about it? No. Maybe slightly disappointed but you thought that this all might have been faith bringing you here with Five.

It started a while ago that you noticed how close you and your companion had gotten and how deeply you felt about that boy. It made it hard for you to be around him which was only worsened by the questions and thoughts in your head. 

Was it because we two were the only ones alive, trapped together with no way to escape and no one else to talk to? Or did I really started to fall for that boy who always tried to keep me safe and us both alive? Who cheers me up when I am sad and helps me when everything gets too much…

Five was going through the same dilemma as you but with much more denial involved.

He couldn’t be in love with you! His mind was just playing weird and sickening tricks on him and his body was just starting to hit puberty. Yes that was probably it, puberty and his hormones playing crazy and his mind playing into it all with the idea of feelings but still… Everytime Five would look at you his heart would skip a beat and his stomach would start to perform the most ridiculous gymnastic moves known to mankind. It was baffling. 

To sum it up, Five went through all five stages of grief in that year with denial taking the most of his time. But when it started to subside anger took over. That anger was not directed at you but at himself and he started to bargain with himself. How could I be so careless and trap her with me in this hell on earth?! I was naive and stupid for thinking I could do this without proper practise and calculating the dangers of it and now she is stuck here with me and it is all my fault. I can’t let her live through this hell with me. I need to get her back even if it meant that I might lose her.

Then it seemed that the depressive aspects of the whole situation hit him and it hit him like a fucking train. I'm stuck here with a girl that probably hates me and is rightfully to do so. She had no choice but to get dragged into this mess with me and the only thing I can do to make it up is to keep her safe and bring her back someday. But she will also never feel the same for me will she? She will never reciprocate my feelings for her because of what I did. I want her to feel loved and keep her safe without it having to be a way to make it up. I want to show her all the time how much I care about her even when this is over.

...and finally the acceptance kicked in. Acceptance that he wouldn’t be able to bring them back in the near future, that she probably hated him but still stuck around to not be alone and that he was in love with his companion. Five knew he could live with that but the question was for how long until he would break.

But it wasn’t really the question when he would break but rather who of you two would break first… And it was you.

You and Five had found a house that was still intact enough to stay in for a while as it was that time of the year when it grew colder again. You had set your camp in the house a few days ago and it was now the fourth night there. In the living room was a chimney which allowed you to lit a fire and give some much needed warmth to the two of you. Both of you were sitting in front of it in a rather comfortable silence when those thoughts started to creep back into your mind and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“Five?” , his name bursted out of your mouth. Oh this will get weird.

Five looked over to you with a concerned and questioning look on his face. “What’s wrong (Y/N)?”

“Nothing really, I just… I need to tell you something and it will probably get really awkward between us afterwards…”

Both you and Five were afraid in that moment. You because you were about to tell him what your true emotion towards him were and Five because he was afraid what your next words might be. 

It was silent for a moment before Five swallowed the lump in his throat, that has seemingly formed itself out of nowhere, and spoke again.

“Well, go on then.” 

A sigh, a deep breath, you can do this. 

“Fives I have been thinking about everything that happened over the past year quite a lot lately and not only that but also what has happened between us…” 

All the color was simply drained from Five’s face in that moment. Where you finally going to tell him that you hated him and that you just wanted this ordeal with him to be over? Five didn’t knew what or if he could even respond to your next words. 

“...I think that this has all been one hell of a rollercoaster of events but I want you to know that I am not mad at you and that I don’t hate you in any way. It’s somewhat of the opposite actually, I ehm… I really like you Five. Probably more than just liking you.”

Silence. 

That’s all what came next, pain-staking and excruciating silence. Five just looked utterly and completely shocked at you which made anxiety creep up into your system and fill your body with uneasiness. Was it the wrong thing to say? Does he even feel the same? God did you make it awkward between the two of you now? 

If you weren’t so anxious, you could literally hear the wheels in Five’s head rattling at lightning speed, processing what you just said to him. It was like a miracle... After all what happened you didn’t hated him! You liked him! And according to your words more than just liking. So when you heard his next words you were just as shocked as he was before.

“I am in love with you, (Y/N).” Wait what?

Your mouth fell open in shock with a loss of words following it. That was not what you expected, god not at all! How could this be real? But then again everything that happened in the last year was absolutely surreal in your eyes so you didn’t questioned it. 

You attempted to answer him but your responds just wouldn’t come out of your damn mouth.

Five, who noticed the attempts and your upbuilding frustration, began to speak again with slightly tinted cheeks. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

Did Five anticipated to bring it out as confident as possible? Yes. Did he succeed? Absolutely not. It sounded more like a scared schoolboy trying to talk to his crush, which it kinda was if we are being honest here, but nonetheless it was out now.

You were baffled by his request and suddenly your voice was fully cut off. The only respond you could give was a small nod and a slight lean towards him. Getting your drift Five slowly leaned in towards you as well. It felt like an eternity before your lips finally collided.

None of you had kissed anyone before so ideas on what might come next were flooding your thoughts. 

Five was the first to start moving a bit into the kiss and when he felt that you were doing the same, the movements of the both of you became natural and grew stronger. The kiss turned sloppy and wet in a span of only half a minute before you both needed to part to take in some needed air.

You gazed into each other's eyes for mere seconds before laughter erupted from both of you.

“God that was so gross, but kind of awesome.” You laughed out.

“I know.” , Five said while grinning at you, “Want to do it again?” 

“Hell yes!”

Years pass by and you and Five change. You both not only grow older and more maturer but you also grow closer together. The time you spend together also came with a lot of obstacles. Of course it’s hard only having the other to really talk to and confined in so the arguments and fights didn’t take long to come.

Both of you were screaming at the top of your lungs again, no one really knowing how it even started anymore but sure to let out all your frustration that bottled up inside with it. These disputes were happening quite often lately, coming right out of the blue with no real reason behind it. Was it maddening that you didn’t seem to be able to talk normally with each other anymore? Yes, but that wasn’t a reason for a screaming match and you weren’t in the mood for dealing with it.

“I need a break!” , you exclaimed. You finally reached your breaking point after almost two hours of screaming in the face of your significant other. Again.

On your way away form Five you grabbed your field flask to take with you. Your throat was literally murdering you for what you put it through, again. Sometimes it seemed hopeless to try and talk reasonable with him.

Five didn’t even try to stop you from leaving because he himself knew that you both had to let off some steam so you were able to talk to each other again and apologize. It still hurted him tho, seeing you leave like that but he knew you would come back. You always came back. Which Five was thankful for even when he questioned why you would come back to him. He was cynical, an egomaniac and he always wanted to be right... But that was just how love worked for you. You fight, you talk, you forgive, you make it work because he was the love of your life and you were his.

But when you didn’t came back that night he knew he fucked up. 

God if that would have been the worst part to come...

It’s been a week since the fight Five had with you and you weren’t back yet. He had started searched through the nearby area the day after you went missing and after another two days he wandered further out but he found absolutely nothing. No trace of where you went besides the field flask you had taken with you from which only a few sips had been drunk. 

Five thought he was going insane not knowing where you were and if something had happened to you. Suddenly everything he cared about for the last 45 years, give or take some, was gone. Vanished from the face of the earth. He knew now the he shouldn’t have let you leave his sight but nothing happened the times before so who would have thought anything would turn out different this time.

Five had been talking with himself, trying to figure out a way to find you which only ended in despair but he would never give up on finding you. You were the most important thing to him in life and without you by his side there wasn’t much life in him left. But everything got worse when she showed up.

Five was contemplating his next steps when he heard rubbles that were being shuffled around, most likely made by someone walking on them. Since you had ended up there he was always on guard for the worst to come get you two, much to your dismay sometimes, so as of now his first instinct was to draw his rifle and point it in the direction of the disturbance. 

There a tall woman stood with bright blond hair, dressed in a black leather coat, sunglasses and a small weird looking hat. In her right hand she held a briefcase and with the left she waved at him. Who the hell was this woman?

“Who the hell are you?!” , Five screamed at the lady.

“I’m here to help.” , she answered him and climbed down the rubble to be on his level. 

“Tell me or I shot a bullet through your head right now!”

She ignored his outburst and continued talking. “Because” , she put the briefcase down and took her sunglasses off, “if you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to make you and you wouldn’t know what happened to your precious wife, which would be rather tragic giving your current circumstances.” She sat down on an high enough piece of debris and crossed her legs.

Five slightly lowered his weapon but still kept it pointed towards his opponent. He was shocked but stayed quiet as he wanted to know what happened to his (Y/N) and what this woman’s sudden appearance was really about. 

“As I have your full attention now… I am the Handler, I work for an organisation called The Commision. We are tasked with the preservation of the time continuum through manipulation and removals.”

“I don’t understand…” Five truly didn’t understand the meaning of this and the point behind her suddenly being here and telling him this. 

“You see, sometimes people… make choices that alter time. Free will don’t get me started. When that happens we dispatch one of our agents to eliminate the threat.”

Five raisedhis rifle fully at her again which made her chuckle. 

“No, no, no, no. You misunderstand me. You are not a target. You are a recruit. I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five. We had our eye on you for quite some time… But only on you. But it was worth the time and we think you have a lot of potential. Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity back at headquarters. That and your ability to jump through time.” 

The lady in black took a drag from her cigarette while looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

Five’s mind couldn’t continue functioning and was stuck on four particular words the Handler had said. But only on you… 

“What did you do to her?! What did you do to (Y/N)?!”

She chuckled again and Five swore if one more chuckle or wrong word would come out of her mouth he’d put that bullet right between her eyes. He gritted his teeth while waiting for an answer.

“We did absolutely nothing, Number Five, it was all you.” All him? “You see after the little fight the two of you had she wandered around and lost track of her surroundings. She wanted to climb on top of a ruin to use the view from on top for directions but then it collapsed and buried her right underneath.” 

Could it really be? Five remembered that the night you didn’t came back something collapsed near your base. Was it a building perhaps? Wouldn’t have been the first time he would see or hear it. From the volume of the crash he presumed it was a few miles away but could you really have walked that far? Would you have walked that far when being mad at him? It was possible, after all you never really were the most careful one when it came to the danger of your surroundings. 

“You are saying that I… That I caused it?” 

The usual confident and mature tone of Five’s voice sounded like that of a child again, seeing and feeling the consequences of what he does for the first time. 

The woman nodded and took another drag from her cigarette. “I am giving you the opportunity to leave this place. Actually leave it. Even if it’s without your precious (Y/N). I’m sure she would want you to take this chance after being stuck for so long.”

She knew that her manipulation had worked. There was something you could see in his eyes. The desperation, the longing for his wife, the pain of losing her. You could see how he broke on the inside and that is exactly what she wanted. 

“I could actually leave here? Go… Go back?” But without you? 

Five stuttered out, too overwhelmed with the whole situation.

“In return for five years of service. Once your contract is done, you can retire to the time and place of your choosing with a pension plan to boot.”

But was that what Five really wanted? Being an assassin for some shady time agency and living without his wife?

“If you can alter time why not stop all of this from ever happening? If you can really do that then bring my (Y/N) back.”

“That’s quite impossible, I’m afraid. You see, all of this, it was supposed to happen. The apocalypse was supposed to happen. Your wife was supposed to die. It’s the order of things. I needed to wait until now to make you this offer because of her.”

“That’s insane. The end of everything? The death of my wife?” Five couldn’t believe what this woman was telling him and he sure as hell didn’t wanted to just take the death of (Y/N).

“Not the end of everything. Just the end of… some things. So...” , she made a small pause and sticks her hand out in Five’s direction, “...do we have an agreement?”

Five scoffs but thinks about it for a moment. His gun was already lowered and he looked around. He had spend so much time here but there was nothing left here he could hold onto with the love of his life dead under some ruins of old things that once were. Could he really just leave this place that easily, without you by his side? Would it be worth it? He knew you would have wanted him to take this chance.

He turned towards the woman again with his decision in mind…

You didn’t know what had happened or how you landed in this situation but it was maniacal and excruciating. You had woken up on a bed in a completely white room with no recollection of what had happened besides the fight with Five and that you had stormed off, mad at your partner and done with the whole situation regarding his ego. 

That was a long while ago in your eyes, probably have been two years at this point. Even if this time wasn’t as long as the time you had spent stuck in the apocalypse with Five was, it felt like an even longer time when the love of your life was missing from it.

They never told you what happened to him or why they had gotten you, only making you the offer that if you worked for them you would be allowed to leave to a place and time of your choosing. You hadn’t had much of a choice and took it as an opportunity to maybe one day be able to see life again. See Five again.

But the hole that Five left in you could never be filled again. He made an imprint on your soul and losing him without knowing what had happened drove you insane. Why wouldn’t they tell you? Why would they keep it to themselves?

 Sometimes at night you could still hear his voice ringing in your ears and see his face right before your inner eye. He was so close but you could never grasp onto him, it was torture. In those moments you couldn’t hold your emotions in anymore. Your whole body would start to tremble and the tears would flow like the niagara falls down your cheeks. You would scream your lungs out in agony and would always repeat the same thing. Why?! Why him?! 

All of this pain, sadness and absolute rage that was building up in you made you into a ticking time bomb, and the Commission knew that. Having you in this state of mind, in this state of despair and willingness to do anything could come in handy for special missions… And they didn’t have to wait long for that special occasion to come…

Five spent the last two years assassinating people and putting the time continuum back on track when it was disturbed. Letting this new found work consume him was the only way for him to even deal in the slightest with your death. It still felt like yesterday that he lost you and had to hear it was his fault. 

In moments were he doubted himself and what he was doing was morally correct he heard your voice in his head. Sometimes it were the fights that would start re-playing, when you both were screaming at the top of your lungs, voices filled with annoyance, anger and frustration directed at one another. Those were the hardest memories to re-live because the last time he spoke to you was after one of those god awful fights. He still remembered how your face was distorted by anger and sadness and oh how he wished he had the chance to apologize to you and make it right again…

Other times, rarer times, Five remembered the soft and tender moments with you. The once were you both were happy and would smile, laugh and were everything seemed to be alright. Oh how he loved your smile and your beautiful laugh. It was like art in his eyes and music to his ears. What a beautiful symphony... Nothing he had every experienced could compare to this. To you...

And he missed it, more than he could have ever imagined. The only thing he would feel was pain, neverending pain, and he let it out with anger and resentment towards the people who had saved him. According to Five’s opinion he shouldn’t have been given this opportunity, shouldn’t have been saved. You were the one supposed to be saved! You were the casualty of his wrong-doings! He should have died there in solitude for being the cause of your death.

But Five knew that there was a way to prevent this, to prevent everything that is going to happen and that already happened. To prevent you from seeing your untimely death… He needed to get back to the time before the apocalypse even happened and stop it from ever starting. Five was well aware of the fact that the possibility of you two never getting together was in the room when he went through with stopping it. The time continuum was a very complex thing and would get distorted very easily, you two would probably never be stuck together or even meet, but Five didn’t care. As long as you were alive and well he was ok with everything… You were his world and if it meant giving you up so you would be alright, he would do it in a heartbeat… 

There stood an old man at a fence with a rifle in his hand. This man had a mission and this mission was to kill the current president John F. Kennedy on the 22nd of November 1963 at exact 12:30pm. The target would ride in a presidential motorcade through Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas. 

This mission was an easy one for the trained man, or it should have been. The man knew that this would be the right time to start his plan, his plan in getting to the time before the apocalypse would begin and avert it. His employers never realized that he was just biding his time since the beginning and try to figure out the right equation for his jump… And finally he did.

So at last he broke his contract with them and started to concentrate in challenging his powers to travel through time once again. God when was the last time he used them? 

Loud whooshing noises appeared and his hands started to glow blue and produce an electric bluefield. A portal started to build up in front of him and he knew if he was able to get through it he could save all of them, save her.

The man made his first step and tried with all his power to force himself through…

Saint Petersburg, 25th of July 1904. 

This was supposed to be the last mission for the woman, she had never done anything like this before and she knew very well that they took her to do this mission because of her inexperience. But she didn’t care.

The target was the director of Imperial Russia’s police and later Minister of the Interior. His name was Vyacheslav Konstantinovich von Plehve and the reason for the Commission to kill him was that he seemed to always find a way to survive. He already managed to dodge three attacks and for the Commission it just was two too many times. It needed to be done for the sake of the future so here she was.

Everything was staged so it would look like the Socialist-Revolutionary Combat Organization finally succeeded in their assassination attempts, the only thing to do now was wait until Plehve ’s horse drawn carriage would come by and throw the bomb into it. An easy job with the possibility of dying. What else would you do on a monday?

It was hard for the woman to just stand there and wait, knowing that she was about to murder someone in the next five minutes, but was there really anything she could do? It was part of the deal, part of the contract she signed to do whatever they wanted. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves as best as she can, but still her body shook and her breaths turned shaky. Was this really going to happen?

The sound of hooves clicking on stone and the rattling of wheels being drawn over the uneven ground indicated that the carriage and therefore the target was nearing her position. The woman opened her eyes and gazed in the direction of the oncoming noises. This was it. This was the final moment. Her mind wandered and her long lived life started to flash right before her inner eyes. Most of those memories were of him and she knew that she would be seeing him soon.

With a last deep breath taken she reached back and threw the bomb. When suddenly everything began to spin…

Two figures hit the grassy ground at the same time. These two figures looked like two teenager who could not be older than 13 years old. They were a boy and a girl, both not being seen in ages but now back in a time where they should have belonged a long while ago. When both looked up and saw each other you could see a lot of emotions on their faces but the one that stood out the most in this moment was shock.

“(Y-Y/N)?”

“Five? Is that really you?”

Five had to explain to his family what exactly happened to him in the last few years, how he ended up in the apocalyptic future, that he tried for all those years how to come back and who she was. He never thought he would see her again after everything that happened within the last few years.

When everything was said that had been needed to said he took you up with him to his old room to have some privacy and apologize.

As soon as the door fell shut behind you, you two embraced each other in a tight and long awaited hug. Neither of you wanted or planned on letting go in fear of the other disappearing again. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and you couldn’t prevent a sob from escaping your lips.

“They told me… They told me you died and that it was my fault, (Y/N). I am so sorry for everything.” Five spoke out his thoughts first with a slight shakiness to his voice. 

“I-I thought you were dead too… The Commission never told me what happened… I’ve missed you so much.” You tried to hold back your sobs while speaking which you didn’t succeed in quite that well.

You both didn’t exactly know what to do next but for the time being, being in each other’s arms was enough.

[another-emotional-wreck]

My Only Sunshine -- chapter 1

Warnings: Mentions of blood, language

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's note: this fic takes place during 1983 but I need to clarify some things. In this universe, DOFP never happens because Peter was born in ‘66 instead of ‘56 to avoid anything weird between him and OC. Also, while the events of First Class take place, Erik eventually just comes to stay with the X-men and lives there full-time. He’s still Peter’s father, it just happens later than it does in canon, and no one knows yet.

Nyah Walker's physical appearance for anyone who wants it :)

1 | 2 |

***************************************************************************

We passed through the front gates and I sighed once again. I was already pissed, and the gloomy weather really wasn’t helping.

My dad rolled his eyes at my attitude. “It’s for your own good, Nyah. Not just yours, but for me and your siblings, too.”

“I know,” the sound was muffled from behind my fist. The trees were blurry and covered in snow as we drove down the path leading to the school. “Couldn’t we have waited till the end of the school year, at least?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

I turned towards the window again, hating the fact that he was right. The school was a large part of why I was in this situation in the first place, but it didn’t matter. I don’t even know what really happened-- how come I got expelled just cause the school didn’t wanna believe me?

The rest of the car ride was silent, but the falling snow brings a feeling of peace over the awkward quiet. We finally reach our destination and I see a building that looks as if it was built in the decades before I was born. I stepped out of the passenger side and somehow the building managed to practically double in size. The sky seemed to be getting darker and the building started to lean over me and I got dizzy up at it and it wasn’t until my dad greeted the man in front of us that I snapped back to reality.

My dad extended his hand to greet a man in a wheelchair. “Grayson Walker,” he said.

“Professor Charles Xavier.” He smiled, and it seemed genuine.

Just behind Charles stood another man wearing a dark brown vest under a beige jacket. He was fidgety, and couldn’t meet my eye for more than about a second.

While I studied the man, Charles stuck his hand out to me. It took a nudge from my dad to realize that he was trying to get my attention.

“And your name is?” He asked politely.

I hesitated before speaking. “Nyah Walker.” Sure, Charles seemed nice enough, but there was something about him that seemed strange. Not bad, just different-- as if he were hiding something.

“Wonderful to meet you, Nyah. The man behind me is Hank McCoy.”

“Hello, both of you.” He offered a small smile which I couldn’t help but return, but even he seemed to have something else on his mind.

“I suppose we ought to get inside,” the Professor broke the silence, turning the joystick on his wheelchair. “I’d hate for any of you to catch a cold.”

Despite the bitter cold, I had completely forgotten about the snow. Wrapping my coat tighter around myself and adjusting the bag on my shoulder, my dad and I followed Hank and the Professor through the doors of the mansion.

The place managed to look bigger on the inside than it outside. A staircase in the back of the main hall split in two directions, leading to what I assumed was the dorms and classrooms. Hank and the Professor led us farther down to an office, having both my dad and I take seats on the same side of the desk.

“So,” the Professor began. “Nyah, if you wouldn’t mind, could you walk us through what exactly happened that day?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. “Take your time,” said Hank. “it’s uh-- it’s not something that’s easy for everyone to talk about.” At that, he gave the man next to him a pointed look.

“Right...” I began. It definitely took me a little while longer than it should have to gather my thoughts. “Well, uh. About a month ago I got into an… altercation. Some prick--” my dad made a point of clearing his throat. “A kid from my homeroom, Jackson Dill, made some sick joke about my mom.”

I noticed Charles rest his chin on his fist. “I swear I’m not an angry person, but he just kept pushing. Saying stuff about how funny it was that my mom was dead, cause usually, it’s the dad who’s gone in families like mine.”

Hank looked confused. “Families like--” Charles cleared his throat and glared at Hank.

“I did my best to keep my cool. My friends came to my defense cause the teacher just so happened to not hear anything, but it still ended with me storming out of the classroom. Naturally, my teacher chose that time to look up from her papers and followed me out. Not sure how, but I ended up in the bathroom. The halls were pretty dark, so maybe I just lost my way?”

My gaze slowly moved from the men in front of me to my shoes and my voice got quieter as I began to mutter more to myself. “Honestly-- the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t even remember walking from the classroom to the bathroom.”

Hank opened his mouth to speak, his brow furrowed. The Professor held his hand up. “Let her finish, Hank.”

My stare flickered between the two before I continued. “Instead of locking myself into a stall like someone with common sense, I was hunched over the sink. My head was spinning and my stomach was churning and I had heard of people seeing red when they get angry enough, but that felt like something so much worse.”

There was so much darkness, I could hardly lift my head enough to look in the mirror and see that my eyes were all red and my hair was everywhere-- I think my nose might have been bleeding, not sure though. The most noticeable thing was that the lights started flickering…” My words petered out at the end of the sentence.

Was this even worth going over again?

“What’s the matter?” The Professor asked when I stopped. “Is that all?”

“No,” I muttered. “It’s just that things get a little… hard to believe from this point. I don’t even think my dad believes me.”

“That’s not true Nyah, I just--”

“Yeah. You just think I don’t know what I’m talking about. I get it.”

The two men in front of us looked mildly uncomfortable, so I took that as my sign to keep talking. “There was no weird weather or anything. Actually, it was pretty nice for December, so the weird thing with the lights went out outta nowhere. It wasn’t until a while later that I began thinking that the flickering might have been caused cause of me.”

God, my mouth was so dry. Since when did my heartbeat get that loud?

“The school says that what got me expelled was what happened to the teacher who came after me. In my defense, no one really liked her. She was always rude and her class was hard for no reason other than the sake of being difficult.” My dad, never one to appreciate my jokes, glared at me.

I sighed. “The point is, she came into the bathroom and grabbed my arm. I’ve never been a huge fan of being touched in the first place, and the fact that I felt like my body was being turned inside out wasn’t exactly helping.”

“Almost automatically, as if-- like I knew what I was supposed to do-- my eyes locked on her shadow-- don’t ask me why cause I don’t know. The next thing I knew, she was on the opposite side of the bathroom, unconscious. My eyes grew wider than I ever thought possible and in an instant, I was back in the classroom. Things were back to normal, except my teacher was gone and the entire school was pitch black.

Things happened. The teacher claimed that I shoved her-- as if I could throw her all the way across the bathroom, and the final decision was to expel me without pressing charges. About two weeks after all of that, my dad got a call from someone saying that they could help me.”

The whole thing was insane. Everyone was talking about it, especially how Mrs. Rio came out of it with a fractured spine and I just-- appeared in the back of the classroom looking shaken and sporting a bloody nose.”

The last time something like this happened, some kid blasted a hole through the stalls in the boys’ bathroom.

Hank and the Professor looked at each other for a while, seeming to have an entire conversation with nothing but their eyes.

Bits of words and phrases came out of their mouths.

“She’s… than anything we’ve…”

“But are we sure we… nothing’s ever…”

“We’ll just have to… and… as we go.”

My dad broke into the conversation. “Excuse me,” I could hear the impatience in his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Well, she’s enrolled.” The Professor said finally, turning towards me. “That is if you’d like to be.”

*********

“You’d be allowed to leave whenever you choose, of course.” The four of us walked in line with the Professor. “We would never make you do anything against your will, but I do hope you understand that everything we do here is for your safety.”

“Of course,” I said. “I understand.”

The bell rang signaling the end of the school day. Kids of all ages flooded the halls and at that moment I couldn’t help but think that I may have been in over my head. The students here used their mutations so… freely.

Apparently, I said that last part out loud. “Yeah,” Hank smiled at the passing students. “No one’s shunned here, Nyah. You’ll be in an environment where you can learn and grow along with everyone else.”

My dad turned to me. “I think these people will be good for you. Might as well try it out, right?”

A grey blur flew past us making everyone’s hair and clothes blow everywhere.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Might as well.”

*********

“And this is your new room!” the white-haired girl smiled at me warmly as she stood in front of the open door.

I nodded awkwardly, taking in the room. It was small enough for me, with the bed in the corner and a window that had a view of the yard-- full of children running around in winter coats and laughing.

A little boy caught my eye. His head was tossed back and his mouth was open, and it took me a moment to realize that it was still snowing and that he was trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself, which I immediately stopped once I noticed Ororo staring at me awkwardly. “Thanks again, uh--”

“Ororo. Ororo Munroe.”

“Thank you, Ororo.” I tossed my duffel bag on my bed and plopped down right next to it. Ororo still stood in the doorway, almost unsure.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“Of course,” she said, her smile fading slightly. “It's just that you seem, uh, nervous.”

I thought I had been hiding it well enough. “How’d you know?” I asked. “Is knowing people’s emotions your, what’s it called? Your uhm…”

“My mutation?” She grinned at my sheepish nod. “No, but would you like to see it?”

I nodded again. God, I felt like a little kid, barely knowing what to say or using my words.

Ororo’s grin managed to grow even bigger. “Watch this.”

Her feet left the ground and she crossed her legs under her. A ball of lightning formed in her hands and grew as she expanded them. Her smile grew into a frown as she concentrated on making it bigger, eventually making it the size of her head. She clapped her hands together just as her feet came back to the ground, sparks flying like fireworks.

I clapped in excitement as Ororo took an overdramatic bow. I giggled once again as she walked over to me, her eyes asking for permission to sit. I nodded.

“So what exactly is your mutation?” My smile faded and Ororo’s face grew worried. “Oh no, I’m not trying to pressure you! You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I was just--”

I smiled slightly. “It’s alright, I just have no real idea how to explain it.” a sigh left my lips as I fell back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Feeling Ororo do the same next to me, I turned towards her.

“It’s only happened a few times since the incident at school. I still don’t know how my teacher ended up against the wall on the other side of the bathroom, but I swear I don’t remember touching her.”

She thought for a moment. “Telekinesis maybe? I know someone who can do that.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Wanna try it?”

*********

I had been staring at the pencil in front of me for about five minutes before I turned to Ororo in exasperation. “I feel stupid.”

“Yeah, you don’t look much better.” Ororo deadpanned.

I shot her an annoyed look and she raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Just sayin’.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Welp, telekinesis is off the table--”

“Same thing goes for mind-reading, elemental manipulation, teleportation--”

“Yeah, okay, I get it.” I snapped.

Ororo looked mildly annoyed at my reaction before her gaze softened. “Hey, we’ll figure it out, you just need time.”

“That’s easy for someone who both knows how to use and enjoys having their powers.”

She snorted. “I’m not exaggerating when I say it took me years to become comfortable with my abilities. I was terrified of who I was-- what I was-- for so long. But here, while it has its flaws, I felt at home. Accepted. Being around people like you can do so much more than you think.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I guess you’re right.”

Ororo looked at me for a moment before shooting up from where she sat. “I have an idea!” Her eyes were wide and I could see the gears in her head turning.

“Something tells me I should be worried…”

“No no, it’ll be fine, but I just remembered--” somehow, her eyes managed to grow wider than before. Something about her eagerness to try whatever she had in mind was slightly unsettling. “Whenever new students are having trouble using their powers for the first time, the Professor will make them feel whatever they were feeling the very first time their mutation emerged.”

“Wait a minute.” I squinted, trying to figure out exactly what she was getting at. “So you--”

“Think we should try and replicate the emotions you were feeling the day your mutation first arose? Yes. Yes, we should.”

“But… you don’t have any sort of mind control. How are we gonna do that?”

“I’ve already got that figured out!”

Ororo took one look at my anxious face and rolled her eyes playfully. “You’ll be fine. There’s just someone I need you to meet.”

[derireo]

much needed affection ↦ sakyo

here’s that father’s day fic i was talking about a while ago. dedicated to all of those who do not have a father or to those who are estranged from them. i know how lonely it is to not have a dad to look to, and it is totally okay to find comfort in someone like sakyo or another fictional character to heal that part of you.

i’m here for you! give me the adoption papers i’ll be ur dad c: <3

no warnings. just a little emo

「 read here on ao3 」 「 1.4k words 」

Sakyo being a father figure towards the younger members of Mankai was said to be the most popular running gag inside of the company. From members who had toxic families to the ones who didn't have any at all, the presence of Sakyo and his overbearing parental qualities made him a hit amongst the crowd of lonely teenagers and estranged young adults.

But when joining the company as Izumi's assistant director, you weren't really expecting to get so attached to anyone— let alone the grumpy old yakuza.

Finding yourself trailing after him like a puppy would was embarrassing to say the least; but as long as Taichi or Sakoda was with you at the same time, no one would really question it.

Well— not really no one. Some Mankai members like Azuma and Juza have noticed the subtle twitch of your mouth whenever Sakyo would praise you for something, or the way your head would tilt in the direction of the blond whenever you were talking about something.

There was even a time when Juza saw you watch Sakyo leave you in the dining room with puppy eyes, and he actually couldn't hold his laugh in when he imagined a pair of fluffy ears atop your head just drooping.

So, really, maybe a few people weren't surprised when you happened to call Sakyo 'papa' one day, but nonetheless, the whole dorm still went into a tiny frenzy.

It happened when Sakyo was giving the teenagers pocket money for Otoshidama, a New Year tradition where adults gave money to the children in their family.

He was handing each teenager an envelope with money from his own pocket with that blank expression of his, not reacting when someone like Taichi or Sakoda would burst out into a gasp.

You, being around the same age as Sakoda, also received an envelope, and you, having never received anything for Otoshidama before, stared at the envelope that had your name neatly scrawled in his handwriting with an expression of surprise.

Just the weight of the envelope sitting in your palms left your body feeling light with excitement, and your head had snapped up to look at Sakyo who was trying to keep his face neutral.

"Thanks, Papa." You had said breathlessly, holding the pocket money to your chest with sparkling eyes.

The soft murmur made the whole room freeze. Sakyo, who was in the middle of getting up from the floor after kneeling in front of you to give you your envelope had halted halfway through, and Izumi was left standing beside him with a happy, but dazed smile.

"Papa.." Itaru had mumbled under his breath while in the middle of handing his own envelope to Masumi, the memory of the Spring Troupe trying to convince the office worker to stay still fresh in his mind.

By the time you had realised what you had said, everyone was already staring at you in curiosity while Sakyo went back to his full height, Izumi crouching in front of you with her head tilted as your cheeks began to heat up at all of the attention pointed towards you.

"Why are you hiding your face?" Izumi laughed gently, her fingers curled around your wrists but not forcing them apart. "There's no reason to be embarrassed." She comforted you, thumbs slowly brushing over your skin to soothe the erratic beating of your heart.

Sakuya, Masumi, and Tenma had looked at you with a pained empathy in their eyes while Taichi and Sakoda made a move to tightly sandwich you into a hug, the dorm already going back to its energetic self when they heard your flustered laugh when Izumi managed to get your hands away from your face.

"It's okay," the main director reached out to brush her fingers against your cheek before encompassing your cute face in her palm, "you didn't say anything wrong." She cooed affectionately, subtly turning her head to glare up at an awkward Sakyo who was currently being pat on the back by Omi.

With another rough pat on the back by Omi, Sakyo had come to his senses and cleared his throat, slowly nodding his head in agreement.

"If that's what makes you happy," he started off, quiet, while moving to crouch down beside Izumi, his hands shooting out to roughly push Sakoda away from you, "I don't mind. All these brats look at me the same anyways." He glared at Tsuzuru in particular who had called him dad that one time he had lovingly struck Masumi, but softened his gaze when it landed on Tenma, who still received pocket money despite his bank account being bigger than everyone's.

Sure, he was still a bit too young to have these kids call him 'dad', but these were the same kids who grew up not being close to or had lost one.

Adding one more brat to the list wasn't going to be a big deal.

His hand came up to cup your cheek opposite to Izumi, and the both of them ran their thumbs across your skin at the same time as you anxiously shook beneath their gazes.

The warmth on your face left an inexplicable feeling in your chest as your eyes darted around the room to see the other troupes smile at you with reassurance in their eyes. Even Taichi was gently petting your hair like an older brother would.

Were you that easy to see as a little sister? Despite being older than some— maybe even most?

Your gaze landed on Sakyo's face last, seeking comfort through him as his thumb and index finger pinched at your cheek to keep you from overwhelming yourself with your own thoughts.

"If it's a dad you need, I'm right here." He said, tentatively pulling his hand away to hold his arms out for you to fall into.

There were a few amused chuckles when you detached yourself from Taichi and threw yourself into Sakyo's chest, the dorm finally resuming with it's trademark rowdiness as you fell to the floor where Sakyo and Izumi crouched before you.

A weak sigh left your body when you felt two pairs of arms wrap around your shivering figure, and the familiar, crisp scent of Sakyo's fragrance wafted into your nose, a hand coming up to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

You let out your first sob then, the warmth of someone who would protect and care for you through thick and thin enveloping you like a fluffy blanket on a cold winter's night.

"Welcome to the family. Officially." Izumi laughed, soothingly rubbing your back while Sakyo fell onto the floor with you still trapped in his arms, your frowning mouth letting out erratic breaths.

Everyone began to filter out of the living room to give you three some space, but not without Azuma and Juza looking back with a sense of joy silently filling their hearts. They were happy that you were finally able to express how you felt about Sakyo, and they were only hoping that you wouldn't be so shy to approach him anymore.

"You're crying so much.." Sakyo sighed tiredly once you began to grasp onto the lapels of his coat and Izumi left to get a cup of water for you.

He pried you away from his neck to wipe at the tears that stained your rosy cheeks with his calloused palms, and you winced at how it rubbed against your raw skin.

"Once I find out who your real father is, he's a dead man." Sakyo murmured, giving up trying to dry your tears after a long minute of Izumi leaving your side.

You gently punched Sakyo in the chest with a shake of your head, a choked laugh leaving your lips as you pressed the back of your hands against your swollen eyelids.

"You're Ex-Yakuza.." You giggled, "I don't think you should do that."

"What did you call me? Who are you to tell me what I should do." Sakyo griped all of a sudden and indelicately ruffled the top of your head with a sharp grimace, not at all stopping when Izumi came back and started to scold him.

"One more strike and you're out." Sakyo seethed with a harmless glare, scooting away from you on the floor as Izumi knelt back down to give you some water.

The empty threat fell on deaf ears as you began gulping down the contents of the cup you held in your sweaty hand, not minding that Sakyo didn't even count the first strike yet.

He was going to have to work harder to get rid of you now. You had mused to yourself, watching as Izumi went off on Sakyo about hurting you while the blond bared his teeth at her; annoyed.

...Maybe you can do something about these two next.

[ericsonclan]

A Part of the Family

Summary: The Everetts are getting ready for Christmas and Louis gets to tag along for some holiday fun.

Word Count: 2539

Read on A03:

“New stockings! New stockings!” AJ chanted, bouncing happily in the backseat of Clementine’s car. The boy had been crestfallen when Lee had opened up a box of holiday decorations only to find that water had seeped in and wrecked most of them, their stockings included. But once it had been announced that new stockings would be bought, he immediately brightened up, excited by the opportunity to decorate his own stocking and also the possibility of an even bigger stocking than before.

Clementine and Louis shared a knowing smile as they looked back at the boy and then at each other. Louis had been at the house to help the Everetts with decorating for Christmas when the damaged box was discovered. So after the lights had all been strung round the house and the Christmas tree decorated, he’d tagged along with Clementine and A.J. on their quest to get new stockings.

Pulling into the parking lot, Clementine looked towards their neighborhood Target. “Doesn’t look too busy. I think the cold is keeping people away,”

“That and people are probably procrastinating till the last second when it comes to buying gifts,” Louis noted.

Clementine chuckled at the slight tone of judgment within Louis’ voice. He took his gift giving very seriously. All his gifts had been bought back in November, but additional gifts were constantly being added to the pile as he spotted more “perfect” presents that he simply couldn’t pass up. The boy was lucky he came from money, otherwise he’d bankrupt himself each Christmas.

Hopping out of the car, the trio walked hand in hand, A.J. swinging Louis’ and Clementine’s arms back and forth as he scampered along between them. Once they had cleared a patch of ice, Clementine and Louis lifted their arms and swung A.J. back and forth between them, joining his excited laughter with their own. Stepping through the entrance, they all let out a breath of relief as the warmth hit them.

“There’s a shopping cart!” A.J. cried, running forth excitedly and grabbing the first cart he spotted.

“Remember, goofball, we’re just here for the stockings, not anything else,” Clementine cautioned.

“Well, if we see something really awesome then maybe I could pick it up for you…” Louis offered before pausing when he saw Clementine raise an eyebrow. She’d already given him a talk about the half dozen early Christmas presents he’d given A.J. and how he was setting unrealistic expectations for Christmas day. Giving a sheepish grin, Louis clammed up and settled for holding his girlfriend’s hand while she picked up a red shopping basket with the other.

Going down the Christmas aisles at Target, the trio soon reached an aisle that was completely covered with stockings on one side. There were plenty of different pre-made designs that ranged from snowmen to reindeer to snowflakes, but Clementine strode past of all of them and grabbed four blank red stockings.

“Four?” Louis asked curiously.

“Of course. There’s one for you too,”

Louis blushed happily at that, a flustered smile crossing his face.

A.J.’s eyes bugged out at the news. “Does that mean Louis is spending Christmas morning with us so he gets to open his stocking in the morning too?”

Clementine shook her head. “Sorry, kiddo, but I bet Louis wants to spend Christmas with his own family-” she paused when she caught Louis looking at the floor. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, my dad’s gonna be out of the country Christmas day closing a business deal in Japan and my mom’s celebrating Christmas with her husband and Phil so I just mailed them their gifts ahead of time. I usually crash Marlon’s Christmas since his parents don’t mind but he might actually be spending most of the day with Sophie now that they’re dating. And Violet is going on a road trip with Prisha so…”

“Louis, if you want to spend Christmas morning with us, all you have to do is ask,” Clementine said, a smile crossing her lips. “We would love to have you,”

“Really?” Louis’ eyes widened in excitement. I mean if Lee doesn’t mind-”

“He won’t. If anything, he’ll be just as excited as A.J. is,” Clementine glanced down at her little brother who was practically buzzing with excitement.

“Well then, if everybody wants it… I’d love to spend Christmas with you guys,” Louis’ smile grew at his statement.

“Yeah! Louis is coming for Christmas! This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!” A.J. declared, wrapping his arms round Louis’ waist in a tight hug. Louis affectionally patted A.J.’s afro as Clementine looked on happily. It warmed her heart to see how taken A.J. was with Louis.  A few months into their relationship and it already felt like he was part of the family,”

“Well then,” Louis cleared his throat before nodding towards the basket. “Are we ready to check out?”

“We should probably pick up a few other things first. Glitter glue, puff paint, cotton balls, stuff like that,”

“Then away we go to the craft aisle!” Louis pointed his finger dramatically and began to stride off until he paused and looked back. “Do either of you know where the craft aisle is?”

Clementine rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Follow me, you two,”

 ---

About a half hour later they were back home. Lee, who had been busy in the kitchen while they’d been gone, greeted them at the door with a smile, his red apron dusted with flour as well as his hands. “Welcome back, you three. There’s hot cocoa on the table if you want to set up there,”

“Thanks, Lee. Ooh, is that cookies I smell?” Clementine asked, taking off her coat and setting it on the rack by the door.

“Yup. Sugar cookies – your favorite. Dusted them with red and green sprinkles and everything,”

“COOKIES!” A.J. shouted, booking it toward the kitchen.

“Only two to start out with, son, then we’ll see if you can handle more from there!” Lee called. He turned back to the couple with a smile, shaking his head. “That boy’s got me feeling my age. All I want to do is settle down with my hot coca by the tree but here he is tearing through the house like he hasn’t already been doing that all day,”

“He’ll refocus when we get the stocking supplies out. Louis?” Clementine looked back at her boyfriend who held up the bag of supplies.

“Got em right here,”

“Great. We’ll lay everything out on the kitchen table so we can get started while we snack,”

Bringing the supplies into the kitchen, they all worked together to clear off spots for each person to have their own workstation with space for their hot cocoa and plate of cookies as well. After a few minutes dedicated to eating their winter goodies they opened up the supplies and each person began to strategize on how they would decorate their personal stocking.

“I’m doing Disco Broccoli!” A.J. declared loudly, grabbing the red and green puff paint. “But I’m putting him in a Santa suit!”

“That sounds great, kiddo,” Lee replied with a smile. He had taken the brown paint and was beginning to lay it copiously across his stocking. Clementine eyed his choice of color warily.

“What are you making over there. A yule log?”

“Oh, I guess it sort of looks like that now, huh? No, I’m trying to recreate the crossing of the Delaware. Figure it’d be the perfect choice since it happened on Christmas Day. It may be a bit ambitious considering my skills, but I’m sure I’ll get by,”

Clementine shook her head, smiling. Her father’s love of American history really did make its way into every facet of life. Grabbing another tube of red puff paint, she began to write her name neatly atop the border of her stocking. Looking over, she saw that Louis was watching her closely, a tube of green puff paint in his hands. Slowly and delicately, he began to write his own name upon his stocking just as she had done with hers.

“Glad you could join us, Louis,” Lee commented, smiling over at the young man with approval.

“It’s an honor to be here, sir,” Louis replied, a shy smile on his face.

“Just call me Lee, son. You know that by now,”

Louis nodded quickly, his eyes falling back upon his work. It was clear that being around Lee sometimes still overwhelmed him. Clementine figured it was because he felt he had so much to prove. But in her eyes, he’d already proved himself already and she knew that Lee for the most part felt the same way. Clearing her throat, she decided to announce what had been decided on the shopping outing.

“A.J. and I invited Louis to spend Christmas morning with us,”

Louis’ eyes shot over to Clementine’s and then to her father, clearly nervous. But Lee’s reaction made it immediately clear his fear was unfounded.

“That sounds wonderful. There’s always room for another round the Christmas tree. I guess we’ll be keeping your stocking at our house then, right, Louis?”

“Yes, sir. Lee! Yes, Lee,”

Lee smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure our Christmas will be all the merrier with you there,” His approval seemed to set Louis’ mind at ease. The boy’s shoulders relaxed, and he returned to working on his stocking with a calmer focus than he’d had before.

As time progressed their stockings truly started to take form. Clementine was going for a classic look with a Christmas tree upon her stocking. The tree had always been one of her favorite parts of Christmas: picking it out, setting it up, decorating and basking in the glow of the Christmas lights. There had been many years without that after the death of her parents, but Lee had brought back the joy of welcoming in Christmas in full force. The Everetts always went big with their Christmas tree, getting at least an eight footer and decking it out with so many ornaments it was a wonder the branches didn’t collapse under their weight.

“Wow, Clem, that looks awesome!” A.J. commented, his eyes practically sparkling in admiration. His own stocking was smeared with all sorts of paints and spurts of glitter now, but if you squinted you could make out the concept of Disco Broccoli within the chaos.

“Thanks, goofball. Yours is looking really groovy too,” Clementine grinned when A.J. beamed at that description. Thanks to Disco Broccoli, he’d been calling everything he liked “groovy”. Glancing across the table at Lee’s stocking, Clementine tried to stifle a chuckle but only half succeeded.

Lee raised an eyebrow as he heard the sound, smiling over at his daughter. “What? Are you not impressed with my rendition of Crossing the Delaware thus far?” He held up his stocking so they all could see his work, leading to tittering laughter all around.

“It looks like poos with Christmas hats on!” A.J. chortled at the sight.

“Now I don’t think it’s that bad,” Lee protested, glancing back at his work. Sure you can’t really make out who anyone is considering they’re all stick figures and it sorta looks more like they’re floating on a cloud than paddling through the water, but it’s certainly a unique design,”

“Oh, definitely. The Christmas hats were an inspired design choice,” Louis replied, his smile growing when he saw Lee nod in approval at his comment.

“Thank you! I’m glad somebody enjoys my artistic efforts!”

Clementine looked over to see how Louis’ stocking was comparing to all of theirs and her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but surely not something so… delicate. Louis’ stocking was covered in a myriad of pale blue music notes of all sorts and scattered among them were falling snowflakes done in white glitter puff paint. Each snowflake had a heart at its center, giving an air of romance to the entire design.

Catching Clementine looking at his work, Louis paused in his careful application of another music note, grabbing a cookie and stuffing it in his mouth instead of coming up with something to say.

“I knew I was dating a musician but not an artist to boot,” Clementine commented, pausing in her own work to nab another cookie.

Louis smiled shyly at the praise before a playful smirk emerged. “Yours is looking impressive too, though may I suggest one addition? Instead of the classic star atop the Christmas tree, what if instead you had…” he paused, grabbing an orange pompom and placing it on the stocking, “a clementine?”

Lee chuckled. “That’s a good one, Louis,”

“Yeah, it’s like Clem’s own special tree!” A.J. stated happily.

Clementine rolled her eyes at the unanimous approval but couldn’t keep a smile from showing. “Alright then. If you all insist,”

“Hooray!” Louis leaned forward and placed a quick kiss upon Clementine’s cheek. “I knew you’d recognize my genius someday!”

That one definitely had Clementine rolling her eyes again. She was glad to see Louis truly unwinding and being himself in front of Lee though. The first few times he’d come over he’d been too nervous to even reach for her hand.

---

A little while longer and the stockings were all complete. After accounting for drying time, Lee shook them free of residual glitter then draped them on the bannister. “Quite the stockings we’ve made for ourselves. I think Santa will be proud when he sees them. He turned round to face the others. “Now that that’s done, should we settle in for a movie night? I was thinking it’d be the perfect opportunity to introduce Louis to Muppet Christmas Carol ,”

“That exists?” Louis asked in surprise. “I love the Muppets! I’m game!” He grinned over at Clementine who nodded in agreement.

“I’ve got nothing else planned for the night. A.J.?” She turned to ask her brother but found that he had already run over to the TV and pulled out the treasured DVD.

“It’s Muppet time!” A.J. bounced with excitement as he clutched the movie to his chest.

Grinning in amusement, the others all settled upon the couch to start the film. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder as the lights dimmed. It had been a long day. As much as she loved Muppet Christmas Carol , she might just fall asleep on everyone. She stirred though as she felt Louis gently squeeze her hand. She looked over at her boyfriend, smiling softly.

“Thanks for including me today. And inviting me to Christmas,” he whispered.

“Of course. It’s always fun having you over. And…” Clementine paused, biting her lip as her cheeks lightly flushed, “I’m looking forward to Christmas with you,” Even in the darkness of the room she could see Louis’ large grin at her words. Before he could say anything more though, they were both hushed by Lee.

“No more talking you two – the movie’s starting,” Lee watched Muppet Christmas Carol religiously. There would be no chatting or pausing during the film.

Letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, Clementine nuzzled Louis’ shoulder and closed her eyes. It had been a wonderful winter day; she couldn’t wait for Christmas.

[brutal-nemesis]

Seasoned Explorers

Uhh yeah I finally had to turn in my writing portfolio AKA I finished my phat fiction story with a whumpy ending! 

This is a VERY non-canon space pirate AU featuring Castys, Syll, and Erebus, all of whom are mortal and completely human here.

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: character death, body horror, implied amputation, self harm to escape from danger

“Hey, Castys, I just picked up another old distress signal. And it’s close by, so we should be able to at least pop by and grab some valuables before we need to head back to base,” Syll said, glancing up from her command console.

“This better not be another planet with one of those giant evil apocalypse monsters still roaming around. The scars that fish thing gave me have not gone away yet.” Castys rolled down his sleeve as he said this, revealing a row of puncture marks that stood out on his bronze skin. He lazily examined them while still driving their spaceship. 

“The cool thing about scars is that they don’t go away.”

“Oh hey shut up look at that it’s the planet-wow it’s super white.” Castys peered out the window at the huge white sphere that had come into view once the ship had slowed down. Syll got out of her chair and joined him in front of the main window.

“Is it winter in both hemispheres? I didn’t think this one was far enough from its sun to warrant this much ice. And I can’t see any structures or oceans or anything, everything must have been completely frozen over. It could be how they all died,” Syll mused.

“Well, if we get too cold we can always just stab ourselves with our thousand degree knives.” Castys pulled out his plasma knife and held it close to his chest, which probably would have killed him if the blade had been turned on. “Big toasty~.” He put it back in his pocket. “Anyway, could you go get Erebus up while I land this thing? I’ll do it in the southern hemisphere since it’s supposed to be summer there and less cold is good.” Syll nodded and went to wake Erebus, who was sleeping on the lower deck of the ship.

Castys landed the ship in a field next to a frozen city. The three of them met near the exit hatch, and Erebus checked the outside conditions display to see if the atmosphere would be breathable. It was, thankfully, but there was something else that stood out on this supposed frozen planet. “Guys… I don’t think that’s ice out there. The temp gauge says it’s warm out there. Like above-the-melting-point-of-water warm.”

“For real?” Castys replied, shoving Erebus aside to look. “Wack. Guess I won’t need all this warmy stuff then. Especially since this planet isn’t one where the atmosphere isn’t made of toxic gas that’s going to burn my skin.” He shed his warmer layers, and the other two followed suit.

When they stepped outside, they had to shield their eyes for a moment. Everything was a blinding white as far as the eye could see. Every tree and building was covered in a layer of glittering crystals. Flowers sprouted here and there, unnaturally still in the breeze. The ground crunched as they walked on it, the only sound disturbing the unnatural silence that pressed on their ears. The dead planets they pillaged typically still had some sort of life on them, something crawling or running or flying about, but everything here was completely still. Frozen, quiet, and crystalline.

Upon entering the city, they began to find the people. Their forms had been hard to make out from far away in the stark-white environment, but there were hundreds of them throughout the streets. Each and every one was frozen in time. Running, crawling, fallen to the ground, screaming in agony, in disbelief, reaching out to one another, staring up to the sky. Perfectly still statues with every flavor of pain and fear written across their faces.

“What...happened here?” Erebus had stopped in front of the form of a woman collapsed on her knees, a look of horror on her face as she stared at her own hands.

“Yeah this is pretty messed up.” Castys nudged the arm of a person lying on the ground, but they didn’t budge. “I don’t know if it’s as bad as that one planet with all the mushrooms...well, I’m sure y’all remember, but these guys are just like, perfectly frozen in their, uh, magic crystal death.”

“What does it matter? We’re not here to play detective for a dead planet.” Syll paid the frozen people no mind, weaving past them as she continued to walk down the street, looking buildings up and down. “Besides, there’s no use getting all sad about dead people we don’t even know. We see them all the time, pillaging dead planets as much as we do, and this time’s no different.”

“I don’t think we’ve seen anything exactly like this before.” Syll shot an annoyed glare at Castys and he held his hands up in surrender, continuing, “I get what you’re saying, though, so I’m down to stop staring at dead people and try to find some valuables.” He began walking with Syll, and Erebus reluctantly followed, giving the dead woman one last glance.

The three of them usually tried to find a museum or building of the sort when pillaging planets, since works of art of precious artifacts were worth a lot more galaxywide than the planet’s local currency ever could be. Normally, street signs and maps could typically assist in their search, but their crystalline coating made them impossible to read. Erebus tried to scrape the crystals off, but his efforts yielded nothing but more crystals. Wandering around looking for a museum was all they could do.

However, once they saw the building in the distance, they knew they had found it. It was much shorter than the surrounding buildings and was flanked by impressive columns and statues. The three walked through the open doors hoping there was something of value inside. The lights no longer worked, but huge windows along the walls allowed enough light in to see, even though the glass had been turned into the strange crystals. The situation inside the museum wasn’t any different from the outside. Every single thing had been converted to crystals, from the skeletons to the works of art, a blank white scene of greatness long-gone.

“I don’t think there’s gonna be anything worthwhile in here since it’s all crystal-y. Let’s just call this one a dud and head out.” Castys began to turn back and head outside.

“Wait.” Erebus held his arm out, stopping him. “A lot of museums have, like, a room with different minerals and stuff right? Maybe if this place had one we could go and see if this planet has some weird mineral that, I don’t know, spread all over for some reason? There’s gotta be a sign with information or something.” 

“That would be a great idea except for, oh yeah,” Castys gestured to a large blank sign next to him, “words aren’t real.” There was an awkward pause. “Like reading words. Here. Because of the crystals. If there was a sign we couldn’t read it. Because everything turned into-” Erebus clamped a hand over Castys’s mouth before he could continue.

“Thank you, Castys. Shut up, Castys.” Castys responded in an even more mature manner by shoving his friend back, causing him to trip and fall on his back. “Ouch. Geez, dude. You made me bite my tongue.”

“OH NO! I’ve killed you, my dear friend.” Castys fell to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “Forgive me for this grave sin.”

“Would you two stop fooling around?!” Syll yelled from the top of the large staircase on the other side of the room. “There might still be something worthwhile in this place, even if it is made of these weird crystals. So start looking.” Castys gave her a thumbs up and helped Erebus off the ground before beginning to explore.

After about an hour, the three of them met up in one of the rooms on the upper floor. There wasn’t much of a haul since most of the things they would normally steal, like gold and gems, lost their value upon becoming crystal. They did find a few small figurines that would still be valuable since their delicate craftsmanship was preserved and a few fossils that were probably detailed enough to be worth something. As they moved to leave, Erebus motioned for the other two to wait.

“I might know what these crystals are. I stopped by what used to be the gemstone room, and being in there helped me remember some stuff from that geology class I took when I was younger.” He held up a chunk of crystal he’d picked up from somewhere. “There’s one mineral that you can lick it and you know exactly what it is. Give it a try, Castys.” He tossed him the crystal.

“Well, you know I like licking things.” Castys immediately tried it out, much to Syll’s disgust and Erebus’s amusement. He made a face. “Eugh. It’s just super salty.”

“Wait, it’s actually halite? It’s the mineral that’s just straight-up NaCl, one hundred percent salt. I was hoping it was just going to be quartz or something, here, let me try.” Erebus motioned for Castys to give him the crystal back. 

“So you just wanted me to lick a random rock for no reason? Why didn’t you just try it yourself?” Castys replied, tossing it back.

“Every scientist needs a guinea pig.” Erebus smiled. He licked the crystal and immediately winced. “Ouch, yeah that’s halite all right. Which I normally wouldn’t mind licking, but somebody made me bite my tongue.” He stuck it out for them to see the small wound, but where it should have been red, there was a patch of white. And it was growing bigger. 

“Erebus, what is that?” Syll asked, moving forward to get a closer look.

“I-” was all he could say before his tongue became completely encased in the white crystals and Erebus found he couldn’t move it anymore. The spread of the crystals didn’t stop there. The patch of flesh-turned-salt grew bigger and bigger, radiating out from his mouth. He collapsed to the ground, frantically scratching at his skin, trying to get the rapidly forming layer of salt off. Castys and Syll looked oh in horror as every gouge he made in his flesh quickly changed from red to white, drops of blood only coloring their bleached surroundings for a moment before turning completely into salt. 

“Erebus, Erebus!” Castys grabbed his hand, trying to do something, anything, to help his friend. “What the hell is happening?!” He yelled desperately.

“I-I don’t…” Syll felt rooted to the spot, like she was the one turning into a statue. All she could do was watch as Erebus’s movements became jerkier in his last act of grabbing Castys’s hand tightly with both of his own. And then he was still, completely encased in the same crystal as the entire planet, immortalizing his final moments of agony.

There was silence. Castys and Syll stayed perfectly still, as if they were waiting to see if the same fate would befall them. 

“I-” Castys looked up at Syll, tears brimming in his eyes, “Syll, this is all my fault, I-I made him bite his tongue is that what killed him oh god I-”

“We don’t know what for sure, Castys.” 

“Well then why aren’t I made of salt now too?! I licked it and nothing happened, but Erebus…”

“Hey, hey Castys, it’s okay, you didn’t know, there’s no way you could have known.” She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, feeling him shake with sobs. She was too much in shock to cry now, it still didn’t feel real. But there was no way Castys could deny Erebus’s fate. His left hand was still tightly clasped between both of Erebus’s. He couldn’t stop staring at his face, one that was laughing and smiling a minute ago, now frozen in an expression of terror. 

They weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when the light coming in from the windows began to dim, Syll stood and offered a hand to her friend. “Come on, Castys. Let’s...let’s go home.” Castys nodded wordlessly and started to stand, but when he tried to pull his hand out from Erebus’s, it wouldn’t budge. He tugged and tugged, but he couldn’t free himself from the dead man’s grip.

“Syll, Syll, my hand is stuck. He won’t let go.” He looked up at her pleadingly, the grief in his eyes beginning to mix with fear. 

“Uh-I-I don’t…” She had an idea immediately, but she hated herself for thinking of it. She looked around checking her pockets and her bag for some other solution, but there was nothing else she could think of. Nothing else she could do besides use her plasma knife. “Hold still.” She turned the knife on, the superheated blade flickering into existence, and positioned it near one of Erebus’s wrists. “I’m sorry, Erebus.” The knife cut through the salt easily, melting it before it even came in contact with the blade. When she was done, Castys lifted his arm, hand still clasped between the disembodied salt ones. He began to try to pry them off, and Syll joined in once she had turned her knife off. One of the hands snapped with an audible crack, fingers breaking off and leaving behind jagged stumps. One of which sliced into Castys’s palm.

Red blood oozed out of the gash, but that red quickly faded to white as crystals began to replace flesh and blood. “No, no, STOP!” Castys screamed, holding his hand as far away from himself as he could, as if that would stop him from meeting the same fate as his friend. “Stop it please I don’t want to die I’m sorry Erebus I’m so so sorry!”

Syll felt like she was on autopilot as she grabbed his wrist in one hand and the knife in the other. There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. She couldn’t lose them both.

 She turned the knife on and swung. 

There were three severed hands made of salt lying on the ground. But there were two flesh and blood people. They were hurting, to be sure, but they were alive. They could escape. And escape they did, leaving the silent planet of salt behind.

[dimpledinnie]

hiraeth - yang jeongin

hiraeth- (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

summary: The world has always been divided. Not by race nor by species, but by season, with borders dividing the drastically diverse climates. Crossing into non provincial land would rob someone of their life, but despite knowing that, the feeling of finding an entirely different world creates a craving far too strong to ignore. But maybe it’s the person on the other side making that curiosity so insatiable.

pairings: yang jeongin x reader

before I start, I want to thank you jihyung​ for helping me write this story. I have been wanting to write a story for the longest time but I never got to do it. I’m so very excited to be working together with him to write this story. We hope that you’ll enjoy this story as much as we enjoy writing them 💞

Chapters: Intro 1 2 3 4

"Yeji, I'm not going any further." You panted, placing both arms on your knees as you lowered your body to catch your breath. Your best friend stopped in her tracks and looked back at you, her ponytail flicking away the snow that was coming down softly.

"Come on, you said you wanted to go for a hike! Hyunjin and Chan are already way ahead." Yeji pouted, both of her hands now across her chest. You slowly straightened your back and looked at her with desperate eyes, and she rolled her eyes, knowing what exactly that look was telling her.

"Look, I'll just go back down to the shop we passed before and wait there,” you suggested, referring to the small hiking shop near the start of the hiking trail. “You can go after the boys and call me when you're on your way down."

Yeji looked at you, letting out a sigh knowing that she wouldn't be able to change your mind even if she tried.

"Fine, but you're getting me a hot chocolate in return," she huffed. You nodded your head vigorously in return, even giving her both thumbs up. You were rather excited to sit down, and it was written all over your face.

Yeji gave you a soft smile before turning around to call out for her brother, Hyunjin, to wait for her, who was already halfway up the stairs stopped, shouting at her to hurry up. She quickly ran up the stairs two steps at a time, and you watched fondly as she disappeared behind the railing.

You made your way down the stairs and back to the hiking trail as you said you would, making sure to really take in the scenery that you have missed trying to keep up with your three eager hikers. Tall trees lined the hiking track, all equally covered in thick layers of white powder. You reached out for one of the branches and gave it a little tug, watching the snow glide off the bare branches. The falling snow collided with your hoodie sleeve and you let out a little squeal, feeling the coldness seeping into the fabric and onto your skin. After shaking it off, your eyes started to wander behind it, where numerous rows of similar trees stood. As you looked closer into the woods, you noticed that one of the trees had a blue ribbon tied around its trunk. There was another following the first one, then another…

"A trail?" you mumbled to yourself; you knew you weren't supposed to, but with your curiosity at its peak, suddenly you found yourself on the other side of the fence. You followed the trail, the hiking track slowly disappearing behind you as you eagerly headed deeper into the woods. As you continued on, the trees slowly started to sprout… little plants on top of them, just like the ones you had seen on television. Sure, you’d seen these… leaves, were they called? You had seen these before, in photos, videos, movies, what have you, but never did it strike you that these were real.

You reached out to hold the nearest leaf between your fingers, and immediately its texture and temperature shocked you. It felt something like a mix between paper and cotton, and as your nails pressed into it, a hole tore through the material, startling you. They were delicate and secreted some type of water when broken.

Fascinated, you slowly moved to the next tree, whose branches held more, bigger leaves, and even had a small creature slinking along the wood in a strange fashion. It was maybe an inch long, bunching its string-like body into an arch before flattening to move forward. Your hand reached forward to touch it, and it happily climbed onto your finger. You looked closer to see that it's patterned green skin had little hairs sticking out of it, but the strands were very spread out and thin, like the ones on the spaces between your knuckles, and it didn’t seem to have a mouth. At least, not one you could see.

The snow on the ground began to lessen until it was gone completely, more greenery coating the ground. Your hand allowed the little creature to find a new place to rest in the grass, as it was called, as you swept it under your palm, feeling the silky, almost sticky texture.

A new creature came your way, this one with a concerning amount of eyes.

Your startled confusion had made you completely unconscious of what is around you until you tripped on what seemed to be a rope. You fell face-first to the dirt, letting out a small groan. You pushed yourself up with both of your arms and turned your head around, looking to see what it was you had tripped over. A low hanging rope fence came to your vision, which extended both ways as far as you could see. A sign reading the words "winter border" hung loosely in the middle of the rope, seeming unkempt and unattended to in the way it almost touched the ground.

"Are you okay?" A foreign voice spoke behind you and you let out a yelp, scrambling to your feet and jumping behind the fence before whipping your head towards the source of the voice.

Just a few feet away stood a strange looking boy, dressed in a pale yellow shirt paired with some light blue jeans. His fox-like eyes grew big and he had both of his hands in front of him, his rosy lips slightly agape.

Were you hallucinating? Yeah, that was definitely it. You had absolutely no explanation for how the… the thing in front of you looked like a human, but had glowing amber eyes, hair as brown as wood, and rather skin the colour of coffee. Not to mention how so much of his skin was exposed, and he didn’t seem to mind. There were even a few marks spread out along his arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked, craning his neck to look at you from other angles. “I heard something fall and came to see if everything was okay, and…”

"It's okay, I-I’m" You reassured the boy, but it was more for yourself.

The both of you stood there in silence, the rope fence the only border separating you. He took a few step backs and moved back behind a similar looking rope fence. You looked him over once more then back at the fence, and he seemed to acknowledge your confusion, opening his mouth to speak.

"Well as you can see from the sign, this is… this is the border between winter and spring. To remind people that in a meter, they will reach the line."

"What line?"

"The line that really separates the winter from the spring." He stopped for a moment before continuing, "You're not supposed to go beyond a meter from there because the drastic temperature can and will kill you. No one’s survived going more than five meters before." He explained.

"Wait, wait,” you laughed nervously. “So you're telling me I almost died?"

"I don't know how to put it in a nice way, but yeah, pretty much. That's why I ran over as fast as I could when I heard you. I had to stop you from crossing the line before… you know."

You paused, taking a moment to yourself to process what he had relayed to you, the overwhelming amount of information poking at all sides of your head. Slowly, as you let them in one by one, things started to make sense. You looked in front of you, seeing how snow stopped falling not too far from the line he mentioned. Behind the boy the forest continued, but changed drastically. The trees no longer had their familiar poking pines but rather the soft leaves you had just observed, riddled with small creatures you had never seen before.

Your gaze dropped to beneath his white sneakers, where there was actual green grass, greener and fuller than what you had seen behind you. It was something you had only observed on television and, like the leaves, had previously no idea even existed. The sky above him was blue and bright, and you could almost make out the faint sounds of animals chirping and singing in the background.

"I-I guess I owe you one for saving my life. Thank you..." You tilted your head slightly and pouted your lips, dragging out the last word for him to insert his name into your sentence.

"Jeongin." He gave you a warm smile, dimples poking out from both his cheeks.

God, you were such a sucker for dimples.

"...Jeongin,” you repeated, trying the sound out on your tongue. “Thank you, Jeongin. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you."

"That's a pretty name." His response immediately sent blood rushing towards your cheeks and you dropped your head low, trying to cover up your red cheeks.

Seeing your reaction, his eyes widened.

“You’re turning red, you need to go back,” he spoke fearfully. “Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

"No, no, I’m...” you let out a breath. “I’m okay, I’ll just…”

You took a few steps back, now there being two meters between the two of you. It felt too far for comfort.

“I just… I didn’t know seasons were real. How do you know so much about them?”

“There are people that defend the borders to keep us safe. My dad is one of those people.” He turned to point at a tower behind him that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed. “He watches from there. People usually come to the border, start to feel ill and turn back, but he’s there watching in case someone goes too far.” He let out a sigh. “There's so many things I want to teach you… How much time do you have?"

"I have all-" you were interrupted by the sound of your phone going off. “Sorry, sorry, I have to get this quickly. Hold on.”

He nodded understandingly and you quickly pulled out your phone from your hoodie pocket, sliding the answer button, hoping to finish the call soon so you can listen to what Jeongin had to say.

"Y/N! We decided not to go all the way up so we're coming down now!” Yeji’s overexcited voice came suddenly, startling you and making you hold the receiver a bit further from your ear. “Better start ordering those hot chocolates, Chan and Hyunjin want some too! See you!" "

“Yeah sure. See you,” you responded, feeling low that you had to leave Jeongin now. Yeji and her oh, so perfect timing.

"I take it that you've got to go?" Jeongin asked, pouting slightly, and you gave him a small nod.

"Meet me here tomorrow?”

[noveltea-lolita]

Winter King {RusCan}

@aphrarepairweek2020

This is a little gift for @bogbees! They’ve drawn so much fanart for my ongoing fanfic The Witch and the Prophecy that I wanted to thank them by writing them a little drabble! I hope you like it, and thank you so much for all of your support on my story, @bogbees! 

This takes place in the not-so-distant future of TWATP. It’s basically a sneak peak of the second part of the series. I think you can still enjoy this if you haven’t read the parent story. All you need to know is: Matthew is a crippled Seer (has the ability to see the future), and he and a group of characters (the ones mentioned here are Feliciano, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Kiku) are on a journey to save their continent Esmya from the evil king of Avalon.

Warnings: barely mentioned omegaverse. 

Day 7: Magic

Voronsk, capital of the Imperial Kingdom of Glaceria

Matthew thought he knew the meaning of cold, having grown up in the steppes of Glaceria near their shared, northern border with Avalon, and then traveling through Avalon on foot in the winter with minimal items to keep him and his friends warm, but nothing could compare to the freezing temperatures in Glaceria’s capital of Voronsk.

However, the skin piercing cold was bearable, manageable, compared to the horrific crowd in the ballroom of the imperial palace he was in the midst of fleeing from. With every step he took, the base of his oak staff clicked against the slated pavement winding through the dense, evergreen filled royal garden. He stopped, and let out a long, visible breath when he deemed himself safe from the hungry eyed dvoryanstvo- Glacerian nobility- that were so desperate to speak with him.

“What sort of magic does a Seer possess?” “A long lost prince of Avalon… How extraordinary!” “But you are a beta, what kind of power could you possess in court?”

Matthew’s skin prickled beneath his heavy blue coat as he thought of the many words thrown his way before he had been able to slip away, head down the grand staircase, and flee via the royal garden. The guards lined against the door didn’t try to stop him, probably since he and his friends were here as personal guests of His Majesty, though it was nerve racking walking past them.

But he was out of the amber ballroom, glistening with brightly lit sconces and jewel dripping dvoryanstvo. Deeming it safe, Matthew stopped beside a stone bench in front of a small lake and took a seat, allowing his twisted, ruined left knee a well-deserved rest. He ran a black gloved hand over his face and forced himself to count to ten. Slowly, he began to calm down.

He took one more deep breath before opening his eyes in order to take a proper look at his surroundings. The palace garden must be larger than he originally imagined considering there was an inky lake in front of him, surface filled with the millions of stars twinkling in the black sky above. Scattered throughout the garden were evergreen trees, shrubs, and bushes, but not much else. That was no surprise; Glaceria was a land of everlasting winter. There wasn’t much of anything that grew. Piles of snow rested around garden though servants had swept it away from the slated path; it glistened from the dark green trees and dripped from holly berries. Matthew preferred the sight over the dancing bodies and jewelry from the ballroom.

Here, it was quiet. Only the sound of his own breathing and faint music from the palace drifted through the air on soundwaves. There was an eerie stillness surrounding the garden, but Matthew didn’t mind it. It just reminded him he was alone right now, and that’s what he wanted more than anything.

He turned his head to the side in order to look at the mighty palace he had just fled from. From the outside, the palace seemed almost simple with white and pale turquoise walls. It was interior that told everyone just how grand it actually was. Mosaics, and gold, and amber. Beauty was etched in every corner of it. From his seat in the garden, he could see the white balcony leading from the ballroom, his vision only slightly obscured by the trees.

Inside the ballroom, his friends were dancing or eating or talking the night away. His heart twisted within his chest as he thought of them, and how stressed, and tired, and on edge they had all been since their departure from Avalon weeks ago, but tonight they had seemed happy. Dressed in extravagant clothes tailored by the very best in Glaceria, they were each treated as personal guests just as he was.  Even Feliciano and Kiku, whose thoughts had been with their children left behind with the rebellion, had been bouncing in excitement- or rather, Feliciano had been bouncing while Kiku smiled and allowed his friend to talk his ear off. They were all having fun together.

But Matthew didn’t… belong with them. He looked away from the balcony and stared at his thighs. Like the others, he too wore an outfit made specifically for him. Tight black pants and knee high boots threaded by blue laces with a golden belt looped around his waist. His shirt was completely covered by his blue jacket- it was the kind of jacket that was longer in the back, but he knew next to nothing about fashion so the specific name of the style was lost to him. Stitched around the jacket’s collar, arm cuffs, and the tops of his boots were fluffy white puffs that looked like clouds. It was buttoned together by actual gold, and the exterior lining looked like threaded gold. His hair was tied back in the tiniest ponytail, allowing only a few curly strands to fall against his powdered face.

Apparently, make-up wasn’t something only omegas wore in Glaceria. He should be lucky he wasn’t stuffed into a corset like Feliciano and Gilbert. He drew the white handkerchief from his pocket after removing his glasses, and pressed it against his face. He pushed against his flesh, trying to scrub every last drop of make-up from his skim. When he dropped the now stained cloth back to his lap, his face still felt sticky but not nearly as heavy.

Matthew blinked at the lake with a heavy chest. He couldn’t be happy like his friends, not when destruction was on the horizon. Not when his heart was so twisted and confused. Not when he couldn’t even master the magic thought to be in his veins. He tilted his head back to the stars, twinkling dimly beneath a sheen layer of clouds.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered, hoping someone, anyone, was listening. “Now would be a great time for another vision. Something, anything, that lets me know we’re doing the right thing.”

But the stars, and the gods, and the ones who walked Esmya before him were silent. As usual. He lowered his head with a wry smile. “Guess not.”

“I thought I might find you out here, Matovyy.” Matthew shivered without meaning to, but the deeply accented voice that said his name always sent unwanted chills down his spine. Without looking up, he made to stand, but the voice stopped him. “No need to bow, we are past that stage, yes?”

“I, I suppose we are.” Slowly, Matthew turned his head to face the alpha approaching him. Tall and large, bigger than Ludwig and Herakles even, was the King of Glaceria, Ivan. For a king, his clothes weren’t nearly as exquisite as the nobles in his palace. He wore black pants, pale brown boots, and a long dark purple coat with platinum buttons. The collar of the jacket was folded against his chest, allowing his signature scarf to make home around his neck. The scarf didn’t match the rest of his outfit, or the diamond encrusted crown atop his head, but it matched him, Ivan Braginski.

And Matthew wasn’t entirely sure how he felt knowing what did and didn’t match the Winter King’s personality.

Unsure of what to do, he patted the space beside him but Ivan shook his head. Instead of sitting, he walked closer to the bench and stood beside it, drowning out Matthew’s presence. He tried not to stare at the alpha, but it was hard not to. Ivan was very… something. Something Matthew had never seen before, and, try as he may, he could not ignore the invisible force pushing him toward the man.

“Are you allowed to be out here?” Matthew asked without really thinking. His eyes widened. “I-I meant, should you be out here? Of course you’re allowed to be, since you’re the king, but won’t your people miss you?”

He still wasn’t sure how to talk to Ivan.

Ivan grunted. “Crowds are not my favorite.” His words were just a bit awkward in the common tongue. Matthew offered to speak in the Glacerian language when they first met, but Ivan refused, claiming he needed more practice with the common tongue of Esmya. “I much prefer the garden. My sisters can… entertain the guests.”

“Oh.” Matthew finally looked back at his lap, and his heart stuttered when he took in the handkerchief shining against his legs. He snatched it back up and shakily stuffed it in his pocket before Ivan could say anything. Gods, he hoped the other hadn’t seen it!

“I do not think you need it either,” Ivan said. “Powder. You are very beautiful without it.”

Matthew nearly choked on the icy air as an extra wave of embarrassment crashed into him. “Oh.” He cleared his throat before it could crack. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Ivan was ridiculously blunt. He didn’t blush and flail as he complimented Matthew, like… someone else had. The breath caught in his throat at the thought of that someone. He abruptly stood, gripping his staff for dear life. “Well. I, uh, will leave you to your solitude. I think Ludwig wanted to dance- I mean, not Ludwig, he wouldn’t want to do that. Feliciano is who I meant. Good night-”

“Matovyy.” Matthew froze as a large, ungloved, freezing cold hand rested against his own. It was so cold, he could feel it through the fabric of his own glove. “Stay. And dance with me.”

Ivan’s bright purple eyes were unflinching as they bore into his own. He should say no, claim he was tired or that his friends would be worried about him, but that invisible force shoved him harder and he found himself murmuring, “Okay.”

Ivan smiled. “We will make a magic lesson of it, yes?”

Since they arrived in Voronsk one week ago, Ivan had been giving Matthew magic lessons.

“Our magic is similar,” Ivan had said during their first lesson. “I am a druid and a Ledyanoy, you are a witch and a Seer. We must use spells in order to draw the magic from our veins. It cannot just appear from sheer will alone, like a Fae, shapeshifter, or Elementalist.”

The success rate is debatable.

But a magic lesson meant Matthew could hide behind that. There didn’t have to be any… any sort of romance involved. No, what was he thinking of? Dancing didn’t mean romance! He’s danced with Feliciano before and that wasn’t romantic! It was just a friendly waltz. That’s all this would be. He hoped… did he hope for that?

Matthew nodded. Ivan let go of his hand and removed his diamond crown, placing it on the bench. Then he pried the staff from Matthew’s other hand and let it lean against the bench, right beside the crown. There was a faint, barely there, golden glow inside the etched out runes across the staff, but they were ignored for now as Ivan led Matthew across the snowy garden until they were right in front of the lake.

“The first kind of magic I taught you is the magic of ice,” Ivan said quietly, his deep voice unusually soft. “It is difficult to master, but it is the easiest to create in my home.”

Ivan closed his eyes and whispered the words of the spell in the rough Glacerian language. Nothing visibly happened until he took a step onto the lake and ice appeared beneath him, keeping him above the surface. He kicked his foot back as if he were ice skating and glided further across the unfrozen water. Matthew tried not to gasp as Ivan continued gliding against the lake, leaving a small trail of ice behind that melted after a few seconds. The top of the lake was so dark, it looked like Ivan was floating through the air. His hands stayed behind his back, folded against the small of it. He was beautiful.

He drew to a stop in front of Matthew and held out a hand. “You will stay afloat like this while holding on to me.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. Oh, dear. “I- I don’t think I’m skilled enough to do this just yet. Besides, my knee isn’t strong enough to…” He trailed off because he knew, no matter what excuses he gave, Ivan wouldn’t let him walk away. He was a very strict teacher. With a small sigh, he said, “I’m not sure if I can forgive you if you let me fall in.”

Surprisingly, Ivan made a sound that could have been a laugh. “I will catch you, Matovyy.”

He believed those words. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember all there was to creating magic such as this. Druids and witches could only use natural magic, like ice, water, and lightning. They could never be as powerful as Elves, Fae, or Elementalists, but it was powerful enough that the humans in Avalon feared them. Whispering the spell and focusing every bit of attention to his feet, Matthew took a step toward the surface of the lake.

And stayed afloat. He blinked in shock. There was ice spreading from the bottoms of his feet! He was doing it! Then he gasped as his balance began to wobble, and he slumped forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the water to consume him, but it didn’t. He fell into an impossibly hard chest that was, perhaps, a mixture of fat and muscle, and stayed afloat. An arm wrapped itself around his waist and drew him even closer as an extra layer of ice spread beneath his left foot. He blinked up at his savior, one of the few people he actually had to look up to properly look into their eyes.

Ivan was smiling. “We will work on it.”

Matthew was too breathless to speak. He gasped as Ivan started moving backwards, pushing against the gentle flow of the water. He gripped Ivan’s jacket as he tried keeping the ice against his feet, as he tried not to think about the cold plunge that could be seconds away. Instead he tried to think about the heatless body he was clinging to, and the graceful movements he was trying to fall into sync with.

“You are not looking,” Ivan said with, what sounded like, a smile on his face. “You cannot see much with your face in my chest.”

Matthew didn’t look up. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“You are smart enough to concentrate while looking at your surroundings.” Still, he didn’t. “If you cannot believe in yourself then believe in me. I will not let you fall. I give you a King’s promise.”

Matthew couldn’t help his small smile. “What does that mean?”

Ivan’s cool breath misted against his ear. “It means if I break it, I will step down as King.”

The background music completely faded as Matthew’s grip against the velvet jacket loosened. “You have that much faith in yourself?”

“No. I have that much faith in you.”

It was like Ivan’s words were a spell. Slowly, the ball of nerves raging within his stomach smoldered as he picked his head up and stared at the one looking down at him, the stars and evergreens a backdrop behind him. There were flecks of frost in his purple eyes. Matthew wanted to count them. Ivan smiled softly. “There. It is not so scary, you see?”

It wasn’t, but there was something inside of him that still trembled and wanted to look away from the eyes staring into his own. Was it curiosity or magic that burned his soul and caused his body to tremble? The invisible force was relentless as it continued to guide him toward the alpha before him, and he decided to let it take him somewhere new, and different, and… and… and…

Ivan pressed a hand to his cheek as they continued to move against the lake. He smiled and they drew to a halt, his hand still against Matthew’s cheek. He pressed his thumb against the bone, sending a bolt of icy electricity through his body. He said nothing as he leant down and pressed his cold lips to Matthew’s while the only noise Matthew gave was a surprised, ‘mmf’. Deep inside his mind, something was trying to compare this kiss to the one before it, the kiss between himself and another, but he pushed it down. Maybe it was against his better judgement, but he shoved it back into the crevice of his mind as he wrapped his arms around Ivan’s neck and kissed him back with fervor.

He wasn’t entirely sure what this kiss meant, or where it would lead, but he wanted to find out. He wanted to experience something new and passionate like this… just like this…

Behind one of the evergreens, the White Wolf stared at the figures magically standing on top of the unfrozen lake with their arms around each other and their lips connected. He turned away and headed back to the palace, and pretended not to notice the rupture in his chest.  

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

LET IT SNOW

link to the sing is HERE

A/N: I think I’ve only written for Chase once- I need to remedy that

Chase Collins x reader

Word count: 1486

Summary: Chase hates winter and everything about it.  You’ll just have to have fun by yourself

Warnings: Chase being a dick?

Oh the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

The first snow of the season had fallen over night, winter was officially here, and you were excited!  You opened your eyes, the tip of your nose peeking out of the sheets as you let out a good yawn and stretched.  Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you glanced out the frosty-covered window.

“CHASE!” you gasped, shaking him vigorously, your cold hands waking him up in an instant.

“GaaAHH!” he shrieked, jerking his body so hard as his back arched that he fell off the bed in a tangle of bed sheets, “what?!”.  He peeked over the bed to see your beaming eyes, looking like a little kid in a candy store as you squealed about the snow.  “Yeah? That white stuff happens every winter, that’s how seasons work,” he said, standing back up, keeping the sheets wrapped around his shoulders.

“Yeah, but snow is so much FUN!” you grinned, so excited about the cold weather, “making snowmen and snow angels, snowball fights, igloos, ice skating, sledding!”.

“Cold, wet, hypothermia, pneumonia, the flu…” he listed, frowning as he re-made the bed.

“Aw, don’t be such a Scrooge!” you laughed, playfully pinching his cheek, which was already rosy from the cold room, “let’s go outside and play!”.

“No way, I’m staying inside and wearing seven layers of sweaters,” he huffed, grabbing his comfy sweatpants.  Wearing just his boxers was not comfortable in freezing temperatures.

It doesn't show signs of stopping

And I've brought some corn for popping

The lights are turned way down low

Let is snow, let it snow, let it snow

Chase groaned, tossing his phone onto the couch in frustration.  He just checked the weather and it was supposed to be a steady snowfall all damn day!  Now he’d have to shovel twice as much.

Winter was Chase's least favorite time of year.  He hated cold with every ounce of his dead heart.  Most of the time he wouldn't even leave the house, not even for groceries.  He'd even use his powers to teleport himself to work, just to avoid the outside.

“You’d be less miserable if you’d come out and play with me,” you sang, zipping up your new, red coat.

“Not happening!” he pouted, aggressively filling the biggest mug he could find with straight, black coffee, “I’m staying in here,”.

You shrugged, kissing his cheek.  “I’ll be outside if you need me,” you grinned, determined to have fun, even if it meant leaving your boyfriend behind.

When we finally kiss goodnight

How I hate going out in the storm

But if you really hold me tight

All the way home I'll be warm

You rolled the little snowball along the ground, watching as it grew bigger and bigger.  This snow was perfect for making snowmen!  You hummed a little song as you evened out the first part of your frosty friend, cementing it to the ground so it wouldn't roll away.

Chase watched you from inside, peering out the window like a ghost.  He felt a little lonely without you.  But he wasn’t going outside! Unless the house was on fire or you were dying, he wasn’t stepping an inch out the door.

The knocking on the glass startled Chase out of his thoughts. Preparing himself for the freezing wind, Chase wrapped the fuzzy blanket around him tighter and opened the window for you.  “I’m not coming out,” he said in place of a greeting.

“I know,” you nodded, “I’m not asking you to,”.  Chase furrowed his brows.  “I need you to get me some grapes and a carrot.  Maybe a hat or scarf too,” you asked politely, resting your chin on the window sill.

“Why?” he asked.

“Dan the snowman needs a nose, and I can’t find rocks for the eyes and mouth, so I need grapes,” you explained.

“I’ll toss them out for ya in a minute,” he nodded, finding the ‘building-a-snowman’ activity a little childish.

He closed the window as you went to go find sticks for Dan’s arms.  What was weird was the fact that, even with the window closed, Chase felt colder without you there...

The fire is slowly dying

And my dear we're still goodbye-ing

As long as you love me so

Let it snow, let snow, let it snow

Chase sat, wrapped in blankets like a ghost, his fourth cup of hot coffee between his fingers, the fire in front of him nothing but orange embers.  He was shivering like crazy, despite the heat being turned up. He glanced out the window again, noticing you weren’t there anymore.

“Baby?” you called from the foyer, making sure to close the door quickly and keep the cold out.  Suddenly, the room felt warmer. 

“Yes, (Y/N)?” Chase hummed, nearly making you cackle out loud as you gazed upon him, enveloped in his blanket cocoon.

“Hehehe… you look like a teletubbie…” you giggled, walking over to kiss his blanket-covered head, “I’m going to the park down the street to sled,”.  So that’s why you weren’t outside, you were in the garage.  “I know you don’t want to come, but I didn’t want to worry you by leaving and not telling you,” you said, getting a drink of water.

“Oh, okay,” he nodded, pulling his makeshift blanket hood off his head, “can I have a magic kiss before you go?”.

You smiled, walking back over to him, “you can have many magic kisses,”.  Gently, you placed small kisses into his hair and on his cheek, watching as his grumpy frown melted away.  “I’ll see you in an hour or two, okay?”.  He nodded, longingly watching you leave. 

Oh, it doesn't show signs of stopping

And I've brought some corn for popping

Oh the lights are turned way down low

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

OH... let it snow

All the way home I'll be warm

All the way home I'll be warm

You had been gone only twenty-two minutes, but Chase missed you too much.  The clock’s ticking was eerily loud as Chase laid on the couch.  “It’s fucking cold outside… but I don’t want to be alone…” he hummed, conflicted with himself.

Tick… tock… tick… tock… tick… tock… The clock mocked him as he glared at it.  "She's probably on her way home anyway... no point in going after her..." he reasoned.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

“THAT’S IT,” he shouted, dramatically shedding his blankets and standing up off the couch. He marched to the closet, grabbing his ski gear and boots.  He was going to have a damn good time with his girlfriend even if it killed him!  And considering how much he hated snow, it probably would.

Slipping on a beanie and a scarf, he stepped outside, preparing for the cold.  He slowly closed the door aaaaaannnd… WHAM!

“BOOM! Headshot!” you cheered, grabbing another snowball as Chase wiped the snow out of his face.

“That’s cheating! I wasn’t ready!” he yelled, laughing as he ran towards you, tackling you into the pillowy snow.

You howled out laughter, smothering more snow into his face as he shoved a snowball down your shirt.  “AHHHAHAHA! CHAAASSSEEE!” you cried, rolling over on top of him.

He smiled up at you, feeling surprisingly warm.  “I love you…” he whispered.

“You actually bundled up and braved the cold for the first time in our two years of dating, I know you love me,” you grinned, lightly pressing your lips to his, “now, do you wanna help me dig a snow tunnel?  The snow truck made a mountain of snow at the end of the road!”.

The fire is slowly dying

And my dear I'm still goodbye-ing

As long you love me so

Chase handed you a mug of hot tea, snuggling up to you under the blanket.  He flicked his wrist, using his powers to reignite the fireplace.  “I made popcorn too,” he smiled, setting the large, green bowl in your lap.

“Aww, thank you,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is much better…” you sighed.

“Better than what?” he asked, wrapping an arm around you.

“Being separated,” you replied, “I was so lonely outside by myself I started talking to Dan the snowman,”.

Chase chuckled, the vibrations in his chest soothing you, “what did you talk to him about?”.

“How cool you were… and how badly I wanted pelt you with snowballs,” you smirked, looking up at him.

“Mission accomplished,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.  He squeezed you closer to him, leaning down to kiss your forehead.  Yep. This was much better than sitting on the couch by himself.

Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it snow

Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let is snow

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow

_________________

TAGLIST

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Eighteen of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @happilyshanghaied And stayed tuned next week for Ch.19 from @elliebear75​ -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN by @happilyshanghaied​ 

Veronica hobbled over to the desk Mac was set up at and peered over her friend’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What am I looking at? I don’t see anything?”

“There.” Mac’s finger hovered over the bottom of the frame. A broadcast of the back door security camera rolled, time stamped 02:37AM. The picture remained static for a few seconds, but then the door flew open and Mac, bundled in a winter coat with her collar up, rushed out of the door, dropping it shut behind her. “This is right after I saw Leo’s body being taken.” With one swift keystroke she froze the playback.

“Taken? I thought you said you noticed he was missing?” Veronica turned to look at Mac so quickly she almost threw herself off balance.

“I—yeah. I mean, I couldn’t tell who it was, there was just a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice.”

“You actually saw somebody dragging him off? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” She demanded, unable to stop the sharpness from leaching into her tone.

“Oh I don’t know, perhaps it was the bludgeoning I received?” Mac sighed and pointed to the gash on her forehead. “I haven’t exactly been quick on the draw, Veronica.”

“Yeah, no shit. You told me earlier that you got attacked by an adult-toddler Lilly Kane. Must’ve been one helluva knock to the old noggin.” Veronica knew her anxiety was making her short with Mac and the guilt niggled at her. She waved a hand in the air between them as if fanning the tense exchange away like an unpleasant smell. “I’m sorry. Seriously. I think the...well, everything is starting to get to me.”

“Right there with you,” Logan piped in, a gentle brush of a hand across the small of her back reminding her that she didn’t have to shoulder this stress alone.

Veronica pressed back into his open palm and grounded herself, then turned her attention to Wallace. “Okay, so you both saw a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice, and that’s when you decided to follow them?”

“No, that’s when Mac decided to follow them, but I couldn’t just watch her get herself Purged by that big guy and do nothing.” Wallace pressed a hand over his heart. “My mom raised a gentleman.”

Veronica grinned at him. “And you call me a marshmallow.”

“I’m gangsta.” Wallace pointed the end of a half eaten licorice stick at Veronica. “Gangsta.”

“Okay, Tupac.” Her smile grew bigger.

Logan pursed his lips in thought. “If you ran after her, how come you ended up in two totally different places?”

“Do I look like Robinson Crusoe to you?” Wallace pulled two more licorice twists from his bag of Red Vines and wordlessly handed one to Veronica. “This island is big AF, and you can barely see two feet in front of you out there. Leo has to weigh about 170, and with the amount of drag a corpse that size would produce across an uneven snow bank, it’s not short work for anybody, regardless of their size. I just assumed the body snatcher pulled him across the ice, so I headed toward the docks.”

“But not you.” Veronica’s attention returned to Mac and she gestured to the video.

“Just watch.” Mac started the video again, and roughly 90 seconds into it, the back door opened again, and a person—undeniably, a man—rushed quickly through the frame.

“Can you go back and freeze on him?” Veronica’s heartbeat started to rabbit in her chest. This was the closest thing to an actual lead they’d gotten so far, but she knew a positive ID in the dark was probably going to be a stretch.

“I could, but it would be pointless.” Mac slowly scrolled the recording back and paused on the male figure; his face was downturned and angled away from the camera. “I’ve gone over it ten times. It’s almost like he knew where the cameras were.”

“Maybe he did.” Logan hooked his chin over Veronica’s shoulder and leaned in closer to get a better look. “My dad always had a knack for avoiding the security cameras at Casa Echolls whenever he went on one of his little amourettes in the middle of the night. The way he purposely turned his head as he walked directly toward the camera, that guy moves like somebody who knows their way around.”

“I didn’t notice any staff other than Jen and myself,” Mac reported. “A catering team was supposed to show up, but they got waylaid by the storm.”

Veronica’s fingers worried the strap on her bag as she tried to make sense of all the new information. “Okay, so besides the two of you and the missing boat captain, there was nobody else outside?”

“Not unless Mistress X is lurking around here somewhere.” Mac mimed looking over her shoulder.

“Right. We have just two suspects then—two men—based on their size and shape, and one of them may or may not be the boat captain. One guy was already outside, probably hunkering down in a nearby location until we all went to bed,” Veronica surmised, her stomach giving way to an uneasy feeling as a realization took hold. “And that means—it means the other man—”

“Was already inside the house. With us.” Logan exhaled a warm exhale against the side of her neck and a shiver ran through her.

“Well, fuck.” Mac picked up a nearby bag of ice and pressed it to her head with a wince. “If I didn’t already have a raging migraine…”

Veronica trusted Mac with her life, and she knew there was nothing her friend was holding back, so this left one other person who had possible insider knowledge of the murder and the players behind it. “What do you know about Jen, Mac?”

Mac shrugged, groaning as the ice shifted in the bag. “I know her social security, her grades, her blood type, credit card debt, past employment history, every address she’s lived at over the last ten years…”

Veronica huffed out a bemused laugh. “Anything you couldn’t have lifted off LexisNexis?”

Mac‘s brow furrowed in concentration. “She‘s... kind of a cat person?”

“You’ve lived with her for six months, and the only thing you’ve learned about her is that she’s kind of a cat person?”

“You know I don’t do—” She made a hand gesture that Veronica absolutely didn’t not recognize. “Not like those plebs out there. Jen seems nice, got me a security job working a few of these live-action Clue gigs, but we’re not, like, having pillow fights or scrapbooking together on weekends.”

Logan started at Mac, blankly. “Is that what you think normal women do together?”

“I hang out with her,” Mac said, pointing at Veronica. “Of course, I don’t know what normal women do together.”

Logan’s mouth fell open, but Veronica elbowed him lightly in the ribs before he could say something snarky.

“Okay.” Veronica reached out and touched Mac’s shoulder. “Is it possible that the blonde who hit you, the one you thought was adult-toddler Lilly Kane—”

“You are never going to let me live that down, huh?” Mac’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.

“I am not.” Veronica's grin echoed Mac’s, and she only just managed to hold back her laughter. “Is it possible that adult-toddler Lilly Kane could have actually been Jen? I mean, they’re both blonde...but only one of them has an adult shape.” She mimed heavy bosoms, then looked sadly down at her own meager chest.

Mac sighed loudly and nodded. “It’s possible, yes. I mean, I only caught a glimpse of her and had just gotten my head bashed in.”

“Great.” Veronica clapped her hands together once, punctuating the exchange. “I need you to go find Jen and do a ‘me’ with her. Can you handle that?”

“I assume that means charming her, or conning her into spilling all her secrets?” Mac looked visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure my brand of delightfully awkward is going to yield much success.”

“Hmm, if only I knew somebody extremely charismatic who could help you?”  Veronica’s eyes slid toward Wallace, who had just finished swallowing his last bite of licorice.

***

Once Mac and Wallace were gone, Logan slid into Mac’s vacant chair with the grace of a cat, pulling Veronica onto his lap in one swift move. She pressed her face into the side of his neck and allowed herself a moment to get lost in his scent.

So much had happened, yet she’d barely had a moment to think about how this would work, what their old, new relationship would look like. Was he really going to transfer to be closer to her? How would he fit into her life at Stanford? And did it matter? They’d both given getting over each other the old college try. It hadn’t worked in high school, nor at Hearst, and she was woman enough to admit that this thing between them might just always be a part of her. Even when Logan wasn’t in her life, he was always present in her mind, teasing at the edges of her awareness like a phantom limb.

He snaked a hand up the back of her shirt and rested it between her shoulder blades, anchoring her to his chest. “How are you holding up?”

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, leaning over to press a kiss just behind his ear. “Not that the answer isn’t the same for both.”

His hand moved gently up and down her spine. “Dealer’s choice.”

She pulled back a little bit to look him in the eyes. “I feel like a shit magnet.”

His lips quirked, the way they always did when he found something she said amusing. “You are a shit magnet, as am I. I don’t know if it’s us or this town, but I’m beginning to think we should probably spend all our time together. Maybe only half of the Very Bad Things would happen to us if we were always in the same place?”

“That’s an interesting proposition.” She fingered the soft hair at the nape of his neck and wet her lips. “How would that work exactly? Would you sneak into my dorm room at night?” She inched her face closer to his. “Or would I go to you?”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “We could change to online schooling, telecommute from our bedroom.”

Her hand slid up his neck to cup the side of his face. “I don’t know, I feel like we might not get much work done with that arrangement, and I’d like to graduate one day.”

Logan broke into a laugh and closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply before dragging his lips down the side of her neck. She gasped as he reached a sensitive spot and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging with a breathy sigh as he repeated the move.

He hummed against her skin. “God, the noises you make...if we weren’t living through an actual horror film right now…”

Deflated by the reminder, Veronica protectively cradled his head against her collarbone. “Somebody under this roof is a killer.”

He nodded, a silent response.

She thought of all the other men staying at the house: Luke, Dick, Casey, Cole, Norris and Duncan. They all had skeletons, to be sure, there was hardly anybody from Neptune who didn’t—herself included—and they all had the financial means to pull something like this off, but something wasn’t sitting with her right.

The level of focus on her was quite a coincidence.

And coincidences were nothing but the contrived intersection of planning, opportunity, and luck.

“Logan,” she started, unsure how to bring this up. “Those character sheets we got were freakishly accurate, no?”

His head pricked up at the question. “Too accurate.”

“I mean, I suppose if somebody wanted to, they could’ve figured out a lot of those details or hired somebody like Leo to dig around, but why would they?”

Logan’s eyes brightened as he immediately picked up her line of thought. “Cole never cared much about us and he still doesn’t, so I doubt it’s him. You actually helped Luke get out of a jam, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted. I can’t see why he’d suddenly want to torment you several years later.”

“Dick is a dick,” she added, “but I know he’d never do anything to harm you, and by extension, me, so I feel like we can rule him out.”

“What’s the connection with Casey? You guys seemed awfully chummy for a bit during junior year,” he said, coyly.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“I always noticed.” He shot her a meaningful look.

She found a loose thread on Logan's shirt and toyed with the end of it. “I think he might’ve had a little thing for me in high school after I did that job at the Mooncalf Collective.”

Logan exhaled roughly in mock exasperation. “Casey, Norris, Leo, Duncan...I’m starting to feel a bit like one of your choir boys.”

“No.” She planted a kiss on his warm brow. “You’re leading man material.”

“Is that so?” That seemed to placate Logan, who dropped right back into sleuthing mode. “So, what do we think of Norris?”

“He’s a cop,” she said, as if this were reason enough to exonerate him.

Apparently, Logan didn’t think so by the way he balked. “So was Vinnie Van Lowe. And Don Lamb.”

“So was my dad,” she retorted.

“So was Leo...who sold me sex tapes of my dad and a minor.” His expression was incredulous.

“Okay.” Veronica held her palms up, acquiescing. She was now more convinced than ever that her dad might be the only honest man left in town. “Being a cop in Neptune, or...well, anywhere, I guess, doesn’t mean you can’t be dirty, but I don’t think Norris is a bad guy. He stood up for me when I was being bullied.” Logan looked away, cowed by the reminder of his past, but she turned his chin back toward her. “He’s just a sweet guy with some niche Japanese interests.”

“Throwing stars and katanas,” he reminded her.

“Did Leo look like he was murdered with a katana? Did Madison?”

“Okay. Fine. I trust your instincts,” Logan said, and a shadow crossed his features as he avoided her gaze. “But that leaves just one person, then.”

Veronica nodded, realizing where this was going and feeling just as skittish about it as he looked. “I know we’ve both kind of been avoiding speaking to him, but he hasn’t even said why he’s back. Or how. Surely, he didn’t risk jail time just to play Mr. Boddy at a shitty high school reunion party.”

Logan nervously shifted under her. “You didn’t ask him why he was here?”

“You’ve been with me the whole time. I know my communication skills aren’t great, but I feel like that’s something I would’ve mentioned to you.”

Logan looked as though he wanted to ask something but paused, the unspoken question hanging precariously in the air like a bubble moments away from rupture.

“Say it.” Her voice was calm and measured, but her insides were rolling with fear.

“Do you think Duncan could be a murderer?”

“Do you?” she shot back, unsure why she felt so defensive and angry about the idea.

Duncan was in her rearview mirror, and she was happy about it. The complicated feelings she had about him veered from affection to anger, but through it all, she couldn’t help but feel loyalty. It somehow felt like she was betraying Lilly for even thinking this might be true.

And what did this say about her abilities as a PI? Aaron, Beaver, Woody, Mercer—all malevolent people capable of unspeakable crimes, and she didn’t pick up on any of them until it was too late.

Logan shrugged, helplessly. “Before the two of you broke up the first time, I would’ve said there was no way...but the way he attacked Jake that one night after you split, how angry he was about not being with you? He was never the same after Lilly’s murder. He was like a brother to me, but I don’t know.” He shook his head, distraught at the suggestion. “I don’t know, Veronica.”

“Well,” she took a deep breath and pressed her lips against Logan’s for fortitude. “I think it’s time we found out, don’t you?”

***

When you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. You’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry...

The faint strains of “Creep”, by Radiohead, eerily carried down the hallway, no doubt the ironic song choice one of Dick’s brilliant ideas.

Logan’s arm was wrapped around Veronica’s waist, carefully supporting half her weight as she limped toward the main room. She caught a glimpse of Wallace out of the corner of her eye, speaking with Jen by the wrought iron-framed picture window at the back. His hip was cocked as he leaned in and said something that made her chuckle, the friendly scene a stark contrast against the frigid and desolate landscape looming behind them.

Veronica wondered how easy it would be to hide amidst the snowbanks. With everything so white, any shock of color would likely stand out, even through the overwhelming snow. As big as this mansion was, from a distance, it was also just a shock of color—a garish slash of humanity bisecting the wilderness—incongruous and wrong.

Something was incongruous and wrong inside the mansion, too, but Veronica was too close to it all to get a good view.

Her eyes canvassed the room, skipping over the people who had tormented her in high school as she searched for Duncan. Even without the murder, this party would have been a nightmare.

Duncan was sitting by himself on a loveseat, gazing serenely at the view while nursing a hot drink.

What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…

Veronica’s arm tightened around Logan’s back, and she angled her chin to speak with him privately. “He’s there, on the loveseat.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed in Duncan’s direction as he pulled her into a hug and lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “How are we doing this?”

She didn’t answer right away, knowing he wasn’t going to like her suggestion, but her silence spoke volumes.

“No way.” His chest rose and fell, and his arms tensed around her. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle this, but you’re injured.”

“I’m just going to talk to him, no sneaky spy business.” She knew the promise sounded as hollow as it was.

“What if he’s a killer, Veronica? What then?”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, whispering, “You know he’s more likely to talk if it’s just me asking questions, and you’re right here. If something crazy happens, you’ll just spring into action hero mode like you always do and save the day.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, weakly, with a frown, but she could tell he knew her well enough to understand that arguing against this was futile.

“I know you don’t.” She brushed an index finger across his downturned lips. “I promise I won’t do anything intentionally stupid. And hey, this is Duncan. Do we really think he’s some kind of villainous mastermind? He couldn’t even remember all his lines for the middle-school play.”

His eyes softened as he brushed a stray hair away from her face, letting his fingers linger on her jawline. “You know, it’s really inconvenient for me to love and hate exactly the same things about you.”

“I know.” She turned and kissed the side of his hand before gingerly taking a few steps back. “But, you love them just a little bit more.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she turned and limped over to where Duncan was seated. “Buy a girl a drink?”

“Veronica!” Duncan lit up at her presence, and he scooted over to make room for her. “I heard you’d injured your ankle. I hope it doesn’t hurt much.”

“You know, they say it’s exactly the same walking on sand and snow, but they would be wrong. There are no stray branches hiding on the beach.” She lowered herself slowly onto the seat, sighing as the weight eased off her ankle. “What are you doing over here alone?”

He sighed and peered into his half empty mug of hot chocolate. “This is a really weird weekend. It’s definitely not what I was expecting when I got on the plane to come home.”

Amazed she didn’t even have to work around to it, Veronica took the bait. “What were you expecting when you got on the plane?”

His expression was pensive for a moment, before he shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m aware a lot of time has passed, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure she liked where this was headed.

“You risked everything to help me, and then I just—” His hands tightened around the mug. “I just left. I barely got to say a proper goodbye, didn’t even get to thank you.”

Veronica knew it was ridiculous to get sucked in by this act when so many signs pointed toward him possibly being a killer, but his stupid blue eyes looked so earnest and sad, and it was hard not to believe him. She’d always had too much of a soft spot for him.

“I knew.” She leaned over and squeezed Duncan’s hand. “I’m just happy we were able to get little Lilly away from Meg’s horrible parents.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and squeezed her hand back. “She’s doing really well.”

“I’m so glad. Speaking of,” she inched closer to him, “how did you manage to get past immigration with that arrest warrant they put out?”

“Oh.” He appeared genuinely befuddled for a moment, but then smiled brightly. “Mom took care of that.”

“I thought your mom was against you raising Lilly?”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking so much like the uncomplicated teen she once knew. “You know how she is when it comes to me.”

Veronica remembered how Celeste had covered up a murder she thought Duncan was responsible for, how she had sent Veronica’s dad to retrieve him in Cuba when he ran away, and how virulently she had tried to protect Duncan’s inheritance from Veronica’s potential paternity claim.

Was there anything Celeste wouldn’t do for her favorite child?

“I know.” Veronica smiled tightly.

They sat in companionable silence for a minute, still holding hands, watching the soft snow flutter outside the window.

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo...

“Veronica...” Duncan turned toward her, a besotted look in his eyes that she knew very well. “Do you—do you love him? Logan?”

She looked down at their joined hands and quickly released Duncan’s, a sinking feeling taking hold of her stomach, then slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “Did you come back home for me?”

“What would you say if I said yes?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

She shook her head, both shocked and not. “I would say that at one time, I loved you very much, but I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” he spat out, body slightly recoiling with the movement. “How can you be a different person? It hasn’t been much longer than two years. Who changes that much in such a short time?”

She steeled her nerves and turned to face him fully. “I haven’t changed. I don’t think I was ever the girl you thought I was. I’m not even sure you would have liked the real me back then.”

“So, you were—what?” he shot back, face beginning to flare with heat. “Just faking it with me?”

“No.” She grabbed his hand again, which instantly calmed him down. “I didn’t even know myself back then, Duncan. Lilly did, though, she always understood me.”

“Does he know the real you?” Duncan looked at a point over her shoulder, and she turned to find Logan watching the two of them with a stoic expression.

“Yes,” she said, as Logan’s eyes connected with hers. “He’s a little bit broken, just like me.”

Duncan seemed offended by the suggestion. “You’re not broken, Ronnie.”

“Broken isn’t bad, Duncan. Have you ever heard of the Japanese art of kintsugi?” Off his head shake, she continued, “They take broken pieces of expensive, intricate pottery and put them back together again, filling the cracks with gold and silver, making the new pieces stronger, even more interesting and beautiful than they were before.”

“And that’s you? Broken pottery?” he asked, in a mocking tone.

She shook her head. “Repurposed. Better. Stronger. You liked the perfect porcelain.”

“No.” His hand tightened around hers almost painfully, as he leaned closer and whispered hoarsely, “I’m broken, too. Just like you. I came back for you, the real you.”

Veronica was sick with guilt. She hadn’t asked for any of this, but she couldn’t help but feel bad, anyway. The last time he had seen her, she was still in love with him, and that image of her was clearly frozen in amber in his mind. “Duncan, I’m so sorry, but I lov—”

A loud, metallic crash against the other side of the wall was punctuated by a man’s haunting groan.

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Mahiru was a fairy born without wings but he wanted to help prepare for the coming winter. (KuroMahi, Fairy AU)

“Kuro, where are you? It’s time to start working on the snowflakes.” He opened his eyes when he heard Mahiru call his name. Kuro groaned and debated if he should ignore him. He fell asleep in a camellia and he hoped the flower’s ruffled petals would keep him hidden. He hated the changing of the season and the work that came with it. There was only one thing he looked forward to when Winter came.

The flower suddenly tilted forward and gravity made him tumble out of his hiding place. Kuro quickly flapped his wings to stop his fall and hovered above the ground. A shadow fall over him and he looked over his shoulder to find a bird behind him. He was frightened by the bird though. Mahiru sat on the bird’s back and grinned down at him. “I found you, Kuro.”

Mahiru was the best thing about the changing seasons.

“You’re early. I thought I had more time to sleep before you came. Can’t deal.” Kuro said but Mahiru merely chuckled at his words. The bird landed in front of him and he reached up to help him to the ground. His footing in the snow was uncertain and Mahiru placed his hands on his shoulders for balance. He could feel his warmth through his mittens.

“Thank you for the ride, Feathers. You can go back to the meadows now.” He said but the bird hesitated to leave. Kuro couldn’t understand the bird and he wondered what they were discussing. Mahiru reached up and petted the bird reassuringly. “You don’t need to be worried about me. I have Kuro with me.”

He gave him another fond pet and the bird flew away. The wind his wings created almost knocked Mahiru off his feet but Kuro quickly placed his hands on his arms. Mahiru tilted a grin up at him and said, “I told him he has nothing to worry about when we’re together. Let’s get started on your duties. We have a long list of work to do.”

“Troublesome.” Kuro groaned. He walked through the deep snow with him despite how he could fly. Mahiru knew the reason he didn’t fly was out of consideration for his feelings. While both of his parents were fairies, Mahiru was born without wings. It was difficult at times but he learned how to live without wings. He could talk to animals and they helped him fly.

He took out a long scroll and he slipped off his mittens to unfurl it. The length of his list made Kuro tremble. Mahiru leaned close to his side so he could read the list as well. “The king gave me a list of everything we need for winter. I already assigned most of the jobs to others so we only need to focus on making snowflakes. I’m not a winter fairy but I’ll help as much as I can.”

Mahiru put the scroll back into his bag and rubbed his fingers together for warmth. Next to him, Kuro wrapped his hand around his and lifted their tangled fingers to his lips. He gently blew onto his fingertips to warm them. Since Mahiru was a summer fairy, he wasn’t accustomed to the cold weather like Kuro was. “You shouldn’t push yourself like this every winter.”

“But I’m the only one who can. Preparing for the changing season goes more smoothly when someone can help coordinate between autumn and winter.” Mahiru reminded him. Fairies were rarely able to cross into a season that wasn’t their own due to how delicate their wings were. Winter wings were made out of ice and Summer wings needed warm light.

Mahiru didn’t have wings and he could freely travel through the seasons. He would help deliver messages between the different seasons. He met Kuro on one of his trips. After Mahiru learned of how Kuro would often procrastinated with his work, he took it upon himself to manage him. They had grown to become close friends ever since.

Mahiru carefully stacked snowflakes in a large basket. He glanced to Kuro in the corner of his eyes and admired the concentration on his face. Most would call him lazy but he knew how talented he could be once he focused on a task. He couldn’t help but grin a little when he thought that he was the only one who was able to see his intense expression.

He moved to sit next to Kuro and picked up a slab of ice. Mahiru wanted to help him make snowflakes and chiselled a design into the ice. His snowflake wasn’t as refined as Kuro’s and he wondered how he could make so many beautiful, unique designs. He turned the snowflake in his hands and looked at his reflection in the ice.

A blanket fell over his shoulder and Mahiru already knew that Kuro was the one who gave it to him. He turned to Kuro to thank him and found that they were so close that their noses brushed together. Mahiru blushed and looked back down to the snowflake. “Thank you, Kuro. We might finish these snowflakes quicker than I thought. Do you want to go ice skating after we finish?”

“Okay. If it gets late, you can stay over at my house again. It’s dangerous for you to walk back to your meadow at night.” They would often lose track of time whenever they were together. Kuro knew that Mahiru was a strong man but he still worried about him.

His offer made Mahiru happy and he nodded quickly. He hoped he didn’t notice how eager he was. While Mahiru grew feelings for him, it would be difficult for them to be together. Kuro was a winter fairy and he couldn’t visit Mahiru in the summer. He treasured the days they could be together though. “I’ll make acorn soup for dinner.”

They continued to make snowflakes and talked idly. Mahiru smiled at their reflections in the ice he was carving. He wished he could capture the image and take it back to his home. While Kuro was distracted, Mahiru carved their initials into the snowflake. He drew a heart around their name and placed the secret message in the basket.

He was certain that Kuro would never read the confession. The snowflake would be lost among the thousands sent to the human realm. Mahiru closed the basket and smiled to Kuro. “This should be more than enough snowflakes for the first snowfall. Let’s go ice skating now. We just need to give these to the snowshoe hare for delivery.”

He grabbed the heavy basket of snowflakes and started to walk out of the room. Kuro slipped the basket from his hand and carried it from him. He thanked him and smiled shyly. Mahiru’s eyes fell onto his hands and he imagined how he would react if he tried to hold it. He would likely be shocked and confused so Mahiru stopped himself.

They stepped outside and Mahiru pulled his jacket around him tighter. He set down the basket and knelt in front of him. When he lifted his feet, Kuro used his fairy dust to create ice skates for him. With a bright smile, Mahiru took his hand and pulled him to the frozen pond next to his home. He didn’t let go of his hand as he stepped onto the ice.

Mahiru was confused when Kuro suddenly flew and lifted them above the ice slightly. He gave him a confused expression and he explained: “The pond hasn’t frozen over completely. Give me a minute and I’ll thicken the ice for us to skate.”

Kuro lowered him onto the snow and then flew to the center of the pond. Ice grew beneath his feet when he stepped onto the water. He glided over the pond and Mahiru was captivated by his graceful movement. He loved watching him use his winter magic and he thought everything he created was beautiful.

Kuro stopped in front of him and held out his hand to him. He laid his fingers over his palm and stepped onto the ice. After he lightly squeezed his hand, Mahiru led him to the center of the pond. He loved ice skating because the cool air made him feel as if he was flying. The warmth of Kuro’s hand made the experience more magical for Mahiru.

“It’s beautiful today.” He tilted his head back towards the sky. “It’s the perfect weather for flying.”

“Would you like to fly with me?”

“What?” Mahiru unconsciously reached behind him and touched his back. They both knew that he didn’t have wings and he couldn’t fly without help. He already sent Feathers back to the meadows so he couldn’t fly. Kuro closed the space between them and gently took his chin between his fingers. He tilted his gaze back to him and his red eyes were filled with love.

“I’ve been working on my magic and I think I can make wings for you. Unfortunately, they’ll be made of ice so you can’t fly too high. Do you want to try?” Silence stretched between them but Kuro understood why Mahiru would hesitate. “It’s okay if you don’t want to try.”

“I trust you, Kuro.” Mahiru placed his hand on Kuro’s shoulders when he started to pull away. Their eyes met and the trust in his brown eyes held him still. “I never imagined I would be able to fly on my own. This is wonderful! I almost can’t believe it’s possible but I want to try.”

“Okay.” Kuro said and led him back to the edge of the pond. He dusted snow off a rock for Mahiru to sit. He took one of the snowflakes from the basket and held it up between them. With his magic, he changed its shape into a butterfly. “You’re not a winter fairy but your pixie dust should be able to make things fly. Can you coat this with your dust and try to control it? If it works, we can try bigger wings.”

Mahiru shrugged off his backpack and took out his bag of a pixie dust. He enchanted the dust with his magic before he poured a handful onto the butterfly. They both held their breaths as he passed the butterfly to him. Kuro prayed that he hadn’t given Mahiru false hope. Slowly, the butterfly began to flap its wings until it fluttered between them.

“It works!” Mahiru cheered and Kuro’s smile reflected his happiness.

“I’ll get another snowflake and make a larger pair of wings for you.” Kuro stood.

“Actually, there’s a snowflake I would like you to use for my wings.” They walked to the basket and Mahiru shifted through snowflakes. He pulled one out and nervously held it out to Kuro. He took it into his hand and saw their initials carved in a heart. The only one who could’ve made the snowflake was Mahiru. He must’ve wrote it when they were carving snowflakes together.

Kuro was surprised and his heart started to flutter. He turned back to Mahiru once he felt warmth engulf his hand. As Kuro looked up, Mahiru leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “I was afraid to confess to you but I’ve always loved you. I didn’t want you to think that I only love you because you gave me wings. The reason I love you is because you’re my warmth in winter.”

“That’s how I would describe you.” Kuro caught his lips in a quick kiss. “Turn around for me.”

Mahiru nodded and spun in a slow circle. He could feel Kuro’s hand on his back and a warm shiver ran through him. For a brief moment, he felt something cold and he knew that it was the snowflake he made. He looked into the pond and saw wings appear in his reflection. Kuro took his bag of pixie dust and sprinkled it over his wings. “Okay, now try to lift them.”

He closed his eyes and focused on the ice attached to his jacket. Mahiru felt the ground disappear beneath his feet and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He floated above the snow and he spun in the air until they were facing again. He threw his arms around Kuro and knocked him off his feet in his excitement. Kuro flapped his wings and stopped their fall.

They hovered in the air together and Mahiru knew he had never been happier. “Thank you, Kuro.”

[meow364]

The morning was crawling bright and blessed over the Alpine landscape that day. The sun rays were just barely starting to stretch upon the green clearing, and if the frizzy air could be any color it would have been bright blue, quiet and beautiful and only flecked with faint noises from the cows and the ever feverish chatter of the bugs. Polly was leaning his head against the little window of their carriage, the glass was still retaining a faint ghost of the chill from the previous night. He was eagerly drinking in the landscape, telling himself it was for the purpose of assimilating it for future inspiration but knowing it was because he'd never really manage to grow tired of it. His gloved hands were resting peacefully atop of his walking stick, and there was no trace of their usual restless itch. Beside him, Jonathan was turned in the direction of that same little window, but he couldn't care less of what was outside, as he was looking at the way the sun caught on the little curls atop of Polly's head with a rapt smile.

"Jonathan, I hope you know you have a window of your very own on your side of the carriage." said Polly out of the blue, just so he could turn around and watch a delectable blush dust over his cheeks.

Jonathan tried his best to ignore him. "It is a lovely morning, isn't it?" he asked, turning to spare a look at the view he had from his side, and finding it nowhere near as enticing as the former. He heard the fabric of Polly's tailcoat rustling as he leaned forwards, trying to catch his eye. He really didn't have to pretend to resist, so he turned to look at him, helpless to the intelligent twinkle in his eyes.

"It really is." he sighed. "Enchanting, I would dare say.", and he was looking straight into his eyes.

Jonathan couldn't help the smile that grew on his face. "I wish all mornings were this tranquil." he admitted, a comment a little too heartfelt perhaps, because he unthinkingly averted his gaze. It wasn't unlike Jonathan to get awfully pensive in a matter of seconds, and after all, if anyone had the right to it was him. Polly followed his gaze as he turned to gaze out of the window again, and then stopped to look wistfully at his hair. Although he thought the gray made him look handsome, his heart still clenched at the thought of the strain a body would have to undergo for the hair that framed such a youthful face to turn the color of gloomy winter fog.

That unpleasant thought to him was a memory to Jonathan, a scorching one, that usually left him no clue on how long it would have lasted. He was used to it, they had become accustomed to the other's plumbeous silences.

He reached out a hand and very carefully placed it atop of Jonathan's, that were resting piled up on his lap, trying not to startle him, but it turned out to be a useless concern because he was expecting it.

Jonathan turned back to him and his sweet, gentle eyes were brimming with tears. Polly thought that if it wasn't heartwrenching, it would actually look lovely.

"Have you ever felt that way again?" Jonathan asked, and Polly assumed he was referring to his former lover and all the pain that time of his life drew from him. He assumed Jonathan was trying to ask if their memories would ever stop sending the both of them plummeting into darkness, and quite frankly, he had no idea what to tell him. They had not stopped for him yet, and that was all he knew for sure.

"I have.. I probably will again, but I also think there is more to this. I think that does not devalue what I feel when I don't feel that way."

He really thought that would be of help to Jonathan but he was wrong, because his eyes just widened as he turned around a little too fast and caught his hand in between his own, holding it tightly, with desperate gravity.

"Please, Polly, please tell me, what can I do to help you?"

Polly was intensely confused, and he furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, Jonathan? I am not understanding."

Jonathan's hands clenched around his and then he brought it up to his own heart, holding it there firmly. "I mean that I am sorry if this is egoistic of me, but I cannot afford to lose you, and I will do anything to prevent it if you deem it possible."

Polly saw that Jonathan wasn't tangled up in the kind of thoughts he had assumed, but was worried about Polly's lugubrious ponderings, the ones about ending his life that he told him about one night over an empty bottle of liquor. He didn't know what made him so suddenly victim of that kind of concerns, but he hurried to bring his free hand to his face so that he could force him to look into his eyes, thumb idly stroking his cheekbone. "Jonathan, I do not want to leave a world in which you love me so tenderly. This I can swear to you." he whispered, and he saw a spark of want flickering in his eyes as he glanced down at his lips, but he just settled on giving him a taut smile, nodding at him a little overwhelmed. Polly briefly squeezed the hand he had around his cheek in response and glanced at his lips right back, wanting nothing more than to fall into his embrace. He turned to look at the fresh, misty violet of the Alps again instead, delicately letting go of Jonathan's cheek, feeling a warmth build inside him that he couldn't quite compare to anything else.

The timid light of dawn was still lazily yawning above them, the wide green expanse of grass was soothing to the eye and the rhythmic up and downs of the carriage were lulling him back to a serene, dreamless rest. His hand was still warm and safe in between Jonathan's.

"Polly."

Jonathan's voice came distant and goopy, from miles and miles away.

"Polly, darling, wake up."

He felt his hand resting on his shoulder, hesitating and then coming up to his cheek, gentle knuckles repeatedly brushing over it all the way to his hairline.

He pried his eyes open half-heartedly, feeling scruffy and tender, and the light of the late morning was now harsh enough to force him to squint. He was just starting to regain possession of his body and he felt all of the stinging sores his awkward sleeping position had brought him, fingers teeming and swollen and all of his muscles in need of a thorough stretch.

"Wake up, my angel." Jonathan repeated, feeling much closer than earlier, his breath brushing warm on his ear. Polly hummed lazily and he chuckled, leaning in all the way to place a kiss to his closed eye, and Polly couldn't resist looking at him any longer. He forced his lashes to unfurl, drinking in the misty, hazy look of the specks of dust floating in the carriage, catching the light. He smiled up at Jonathan without even noticing, and that earned an even bigger grin in return. "There you are. I missed you." he murmured, and Polly immediately felt his eyes welling up. Jonathan always knew how to tug at his heartstrings.

"You look radiant." he immediately added, and kissed the patch of strawberry sweet tinge blooming on his cheek.

"Radiant?" Polly parroted, amused, but Jonathan wasn't japing. "Yes, positively. You're splendid." he punctuated with a long kiss to his nose, then the corner of his eye. "You're a vision. You're magnificent." another kiss, this time to the spot where his nose met his forehead. "You're a dream."

Polly's throat was starting to burn, and the sweet tension pulling at the sides of his cheeks and under eyes promised the usual sting of tears to come poking at his eyes.

"How long till you stop trying to make me go mad and just kiss my lips?" Jonathan huffed a laugh that made Polly's lids tremble, then he leaned down and caught his mouth in a mellifluous kiss. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth eagerly and Polly sighed, letting him climb up and lick deep and slow into his mouth. His breath was shaky as it came out of his nose, and his arms even shakier as they wrapped around his neck. Jonathan tilted his head and his hands came up to tenderly grasp both sides of Polly's face, thumbs resting along the line of his lower lip, brushing against it every time he opened his mouth a little wider.

Polly's cheeks were scorching under his fingers, his body was almost trembling all wrapped up in his own, and one of his hands helplessly fell captive to his irresistible slim waist, slipping under the tail coat and resting on his flank, stroking it absentmindedly yet intently through his vest. Polly whined at that and had to very reluctantly part from him, trying to take in gulps of air hoping it would calm him down, but Jonathan didn't let him.

"Oh, Polly.." he murmured, enraptured, and pried his mouth back open for another scorching kiss.

The hand over his vest had grown restless and was now trying its hardest to slither underneath it, after successfully managing to rip his shirt out of his snug breeches.

Polly was leaning his head back, letting all the weight of it fall on Jonathan's hand that had crawled to the nape of his neck, holding him up, keeping him in place. The position was exposing his throat exquisitely.

Jonathan pulled away, eyes transfixed on the glittery film on Polly's lips and the way they looked savory and tempting like a ripe fruit, and through his own, rendered almost numb by the use, he murmured, "I could kiss you for a million years and I would not grow tired of your mouth." before leaning down, nudging Polly's chin up a little bit more with his nose and plunging teeth first into the alabaster curve of his neck, biting down hard on it.

A sob tore out from Polly's throat, and stubborn little tears forced their way out of the corner of his eyes and rolled along his cheekbone only to be caught by Jonathan's thumb.

Polly gasped when his grip tightened on his bare skin, fingers digging into it to drag him closer. Jonathan pulled away from his neck and dabbed his tongue lightly on the sore spot that blossomed in the shape of his teeth.

"I long for you all the time. I cannot get you out of my mind and heart." and it didn't sound as sweet as earlier, it had a rough edge to it, making it feel almost like a growl on Polly's delicate skin. It rippled all throughout his body, making him shiver helplessly, and he breathed "Oh, Jonathan, but you have me.".

It came out a crooked thing, all jagged at the edges, and it made Jonathan moan and his hands clench possessively where they were holding him, stinging just exquisitely.

"I am all yours." he reiterated in a strained moan, and Jonathan pulled away to look fiercely in his eyes, then he swooped down fervently, ravaging his mouth again.

Polly's breeches were growing ever tighter and more uncomfortable, and when Jonathan nudged his knees apart to fit in between them he grunted quite harshly, making him pull away. He stared at his mouth, enthralled, the rough pad of his thumb coming up to stroke Polly's plump lower lip and push against it, toying with it, the heat of the spots where his fingers rested on his face almost burning holes in Polly's skin. He leaned in to catch it in his mouth and bite on it hard enough to make Polly whimper.

"I have never learned how to resist you." he murmured, caressing his warm cheek tenderly enough to draw another sob from him.

"I do not want you to." he stuttered, a little tear peeking from the inner corner of his eye. Jonathan pressed his thumb down on it, catching it before it could fall, then kissed him again, slow and sugary as his nails dragged hard on the skin of his waist, the sharp contrast making Polly gasp.

"I need you, Jonathan, please, please take me." he whined, and Jonathan hugged him and pulled him up, effectively manhandling until he could sit him down on one of his thighs.

Polly keened and tensed all over before sighing and dropping his head on Jonathan's shoulder, a bit more than overwhelmed, and immediately started rutting down on him. His nose was a little wet and the cold smudge on Johnathan's skin made him shudder.

Jonathan grasped Polly's hair and pulled his head back, and Polly looked down at him under droopy lids and unfocused eyes, lips hanging open, cheeks crimson and wet. His hand caressed his way from his thigh to his crotch and gave him a hard squeeze through his breeches, making his body twitch with it, another droplet falling from his lashes and rolling helpless down his cheek. He sniffled delicately and took a few broken, shuddery breaths, eyes falling shut, squeezing another few little tears out, tempting lips trembling with every little gasp as he resumed his graceless grinding against Jonathan's thigh.

"Polly.. Polly, my darling.." he shushed him, caressing his face, leaning in to nuzzle his hot skin. He gripped his ass tightly with one hand and pulled him in closer, guiding him as he thrust haphazardly up his thigh. He placed a kiss high on his cheekbone and he followed the path of tears down to his chin, peppering his face with light touches of his lips, he tasted cold and salty.

He made him look down, tenderly and carefully, with little nudges of his nose and cheek, until he could meet his lips again in a searing kiss.

Polly whined into his mouth, and Jonathan's hand clenched on his ass, dragging him up until their groins met and he could reply to his thrusts just as vigorously.

Jonathan's arms flew up to circle his body, hugging him close as he started to tremble helplessly, and Polly hurried to hide his face into his neck again, weeping into his skin until he tensed up like a violin string and sobbed once, loud and drawn out as he reached his orgasm.

He slumped out all at once, arms shakily hugging Jonathan's neck as he let himself be held and shushed.

Jonathan hummed quietly, lulling them gently and swinging slowly from side to side until Polly hummed and wiggled out of his grip just enough to look at him through pearly, sticky lashes and reddened eyes. "I love you dearly, Jonathan." he whimpered, a barely-there smile making its way on his face and a trembling hand sliding down to stroke his cheek.

"But damn you all the way to hell, look at what you did to me! How can I go around like this now?" he exclaimed, nodding towards his general state, disheveled clothing, reddened neck and sodden breeches.

"You have nothing to worry about, my dear, I have a solution for all of your troubles." murmured Jonathan suavely, and he jostled them both until he could sit Polly back down in his place. He then leaned forwards and grabbed his tophat that they discarded upon entering the carriage, raised his eyebrows at him, amused, and placed it on top of the dark stain that was rapidly widening on his light breeches. "Et Voilà. You just have to carry this." he smiled innocently up at him and Polly's mouth fell open, ready to protest.

Jonathan just leaned in and kissed him stupid instead.

[phobiadeficient]

hey!!! I've been a fan of your work since your long running speeding bullet fic started! ur writing has been really inspirational to read, and I've fallen in love with the style of prose you use. would you consider doing something with stockings or the like with speeding bullet? love, the tea anon

thanks tea anon!! dude that’s been a fuckin while then huh sheesh dude thanks for stickin with me. this is a longer one for not as much nsfw but hey it happens

-

Scout knew he had good legs, alright? He already knew that. They were on the same page about Scout’s absolutely killer legs. Fuckin’ fantastic. What he didn’t get was why Sniper felt the need to add something else to the mix there. Why mess with perfection? It was a little insulting.

The only reason he was even considering this was the fact that Sniper had, first of all, asked very nicely. Gone to the effort of buttering him up over it and everything. Brought it up when they were out to eat—not anywhere too fancy, because they didn’t like too fancy and there wasn’t anywhere like that nearby anyways—and been real sweet about it. And second of all, Sniper had mentioned in passing, not naming any dates in particular, that it was his birthday fairly soon. And third…

Well.

He was sat on his bed, looking over the dumb things, late at night when he was pretty sure nobody else was gonna come by and try and bother him. And man. They were like, high quality. And it wasn’t like Scout would actually know or anything, he didn’t have a ton of experience with that sort of stuff, but they looked like they must’ve been expensive.

He rubbed the material of the stockings between his finger and thumb, amazed at the smoothness of it. He remembered being a kid and fucking around with all the coats and hats and stuff they had lined up next to their door in the winter, and really hating how itchy the lace on his mom’s scarf was, even just against his fingers, but these were soft. Really soft. Soft and smooth and…

Sniper wasn’t really the type to blow through money on stuff. Even out of the food he bought to stock his camper, the only name brand stuff he had was the soda he kept for Scout and this one specific brand of beer. He was always wicked careful with money, so careful, and that he clearly spent a real pretty penny on this one thing that he wanted Scout to just wear once to try it out and that Scout might’ve said no to…

Scout looked down at his legs, bared by the shorts he’d put on to sleep. And in his own head he’d managed to land on indignance that Sniper apparently didn’t think they were good enough on their own, their being damn great and all, but… these were too nice for him. The muscle definition he had going on was straight up insane. But his legs were pretty hairy, overall.

Scout’s facial hair grew so slowly it might as well not be growing at all, it taking a solid month for him to even get proper stubble through how light his hair was, but he owned a razor anyways. He went and grabbed it, and headed to go take a late night shower.

An hour later, back in his room, he was stood looking in his mirror, legs now very nice and smooth (except for one or two places around his knees where he’d knicked himself a bit but no big deal), in a pair of briefs and holding up the stockings in front of himself trying to visualize how they would look.

Okay. So they were fuckin’ nice. They were gonna look great. He was pretty sure the second Sniper walked in and saw Scout sitting around in these, he was either going to cream himself on the goddamn spot or do that real nice thing where he pinned Scout down and growled all kinds of filth into his ear until Scout creamed himself on the goddamn spot. They were gonna look fuckin’ good.

But the briefs were fucking up his look. Like, they fit good and everything, but standard navy briefs with really expensive stockings? He was putting three thousand dollar rims on a hatchback, here.

He walked over to his dresser, started digging through.

And, okay, the panties weren’t his, first of all, he didn’t buy them or anything. They were from back when he was super into the dating scene, when they were stationed near enough to a bigger town so that it was an option. And he felt a little bad that he didn’t even remember the girl’s name that they belonged to, but it wasn’t like he’d stolen them or anything, she’d just left it behind and he figured, hey, why the hell not. It wasn’t like the shitty motel needed them, probably had a stack of the things in the back room or whatever. And maybe he’d see her again and be able to give them back. (He absolutely hadn’t.)

But they were black like the stockings, and the girl had been like, about his size—maybe a bit bigger actually, at least roundwise, because when it came to girls maybe he had a little bit of a type—and he was pretty sure they’d fit him, just seeing them next to his briefs in the drawer.

He pulled them on, and the stockings as well for good measure, and went to stand in front of the mirror.

They actually fit pretty good. He had to kind of mess with how his dick was sat, and where the waist of it was supposed to be, but once he got everything situated, they fit good. And they weren’t quite as bombshell fancy as the stockings, but still damn nice.

His gaze drifted up, landed on his dog tags. The clasp was kinda twisted around towards the front, and he fixed it. His hair was kinda wet and messy from the shower he’d just taken, and he brushed it into better order with one hand, smoothing down the places where it tried to be weird, mussing it a little.

And, okay. He wasn’t a short guy or anything, he was pretty average, maybe an inch or two on some guys, even a little taller-looking just because he had good posture. But Sniper was like, six foot three, and his boots gave him almost another inch. It was ridiculous.

And some part of Scout figured, hey, dressed all nice, looking really good, it would be nice to be tall too.

The heels were from a Halloween costume a few years back, when he’d done a fun bit and spent the few weeks before the part going on about how his costume was gonna be from Bonnie and Clyde, and everyone ragging on him that he would never be able to pull off Clyde for a laundry list of reasons, and then when the actual day came he showed up as Bonnie. It was hilarious—at least to a few of the team. Spy and Medic thought it was really dumb. But a few of the mercs and Miss Pauling had all laughed, so it was totally worth it.

And he still had the heels. He’d lost most of the rest of the costume—he was pretty sure he still had the sweater?—but he definitely still had the heels. They’d been expensive and simple enough that he figured he could reuse them some other year for a different costume.

They’d blistered like a bitch when he’d tried to break them in before the party, but he’d messed with them enough that he wouldn’t literally die when he had to wear them all night for the party itself, and now they were comfortable, and made him a solid few inches taller.

Made his legs look even nicer, too. And when he stepped over to the mirror again after putting them on, they made a real nice click against the floor. Hm. Damn, dude. He gave himself a spin, a twist back and forth, and damn. Damn.

He looked fuckin’ good.

Okay. So Sniper was absolutely right. The stockings were a great idea. He was aware that he was already pretty hot shit, but seriously. If he saw a person this attractive in public, he wouldn’t even be able to talk to them. Like, legally. He’d walk up and be like “hey what’s up” and then they’d probably have like a bodyguard or something who would step forward all “no autographs” and like, call him buddy but in the way that meant he was about to get his neck snapped. That hot.

He’d never really thought of the word “prettyboy” as an actual insult, it was only really an insult for guys too macho to appreciate a different kind of aesthetic, but he’d never really gotten any kind of feeling in particular about it being stuck to him. But now? Boy was he pretty. And he was kind of super into it. Confidence boost, like the one time every billion years when he actually got Uber’d because Medic was popping it anyways because he was about to die and trying to retreat and hey, might as well buff Scout since he was literally the only other person in a hundred foot radius.

He was totally gonna fuck up Sniper’s whole week with this. He was gonna break Sniper with how good he looked. Dude was gonna have a heart attack and drop dead. Holy shit.

The next day he went over to visit Sniper before breakfast and all but demanded that Sniper make time for him that evening. And all through battle he was at the top of his game, moving like a maniac and wreaking absolute havoc on the field. He got a clap on the back from Engie on the way off the field, a friendly bump on the shoulder from Demo, and at Soldier’s usual daily “be better at your job” lecture to each individual teammate, Scout found his laden with pauses as Soldier tried to think of anything he did that was even a little less than top notch.

He felt good. He felt real good. And when he got back to his room after showers and pulled on the outfit, sweatpants and a t-shirt over top, heels packed into his bag with a few more essentials for sleeping over (because he felt good enough that he had a feeling there would be a couple rounds over the course of the evening, and he didn’t wanna trudge back to base after all that), he still felt good, felt incredible even. Sniper wasn’t even gonna know what hit him.

He got to the camper, kissed Sniper in greeting, and Sniper was in high spirits as well, maybe picking up on Scout’s good mood. He allowed himself a long feel up the back of Scout’s shirt, and Scout grinned at it, glancing Sniper up and down.

“Hey,” he started in, pausing where he’d idly been working at Sniper’s buttons, the top few popped open. “Remember that thing you asked? When we went out to eat?”

Sniper’s eyebrow rose. “The outfit?”

Scout nodded, grinning all the wider. “Yeah, well, I’ve been thinkin’ about it,” he said, head tilting a little to one side, “and I figured I’d try it on, see how I’d look and all. And I liked it, so…”

Sniper’s gaze was intense.

“So, I put it on,” Scout said.

Sniper’s hand shifted to hold onto Scout’s thigh, pulling Scout in and against himself as he did so. “Is that right?” he asked, other eyebrow rising to match the first.

“Yeah.” He pushed on Sniper’s chest. “But you gotta get outta here for a second so I can show you. I wanna do this right.”

Sniper shrugged, disconnecting from Scout, doing the buttons of his shirt back up in a few efficient movements. “Would a few minutes work?” he asked, picking his hat up and putting it on.

“Yeah. Like, five minutes,” Scout agreed.

“Awright. I’ll knock before I come back in,” he said, and stepped outside, closing the door behind him with a parting wink.

Scout closed the blinds and stripped quickly, kicking off his shoes and putting the heels on instead. He fixed his tags in the mirror, combing his hand through his hair a few times fretfully.

Okay. He looked good. He knew he looked good. He looked great. Really hot. And he totally had this.

A glance at the little clock next to Sniper’s bed. Two minutes had passed.

Okay, so he was a little nervous actually. Sniper didn’t have a full length mirror, so he just sorta had to lean on the table to pull the stockings up to just the right place on his legs, had to twist to get a good look at himself, had to hope nothing was crooked because it was kind of hard to tell. And then he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to be when Sniper came back in—standing? Sitting on the table? On the bed?

A glance at the clock. Three minutes.

He leaned on the table, feeing a little tense. Okay. So he thought he looked good. But suddenly Scout couldn’t help but wonder if Sniper was going to think he looked good. Was all of what he was doing… too much? He’d only asked for the stockings, and here Scout was, heels and stuff, and maybe Sniper would just take one step in the door and laugh. And maybe Sniper wasn’t even actually sure he liked stockings, and just wanted to try something new. And now Scout was trying way too hard, and was going to seem ridiculous—

Four minutes.

He hadn’t planned for this. His sleep clothes were just a pair of boxers and the shirt he’d worn over in the first place, he didn’t have something less dumb to change into, especially not considering the track record they had with clothes getting dirty, and even if he took all the stuff off Sniper would probably want to do something to make sure he didn’t waste his evening, and… and there wasn’t time to change now anyways. He laid down on the bed, hand over his face, trying desperately to feel less stupid, to put on a game face for when Sniper came in, to not look like a complete and utter wreck.

He was such an idiot.

A knock at the door. He managed something like a “come in”, and forced his gaze to stay facing the ceiling when he heard it open, even as he managed to pull his hand down, folding his arms behind his head.

Silence. The door closing, firmly, and locking. “Holy dooley,” Sniper practically gasped, and Scout swallowed hard, couldn’t help but glance over. Sniper’s jaw was hanging, hat in his hand at his side.

He wanted a little bit to curl up and hide. He didn’t, just looking at Sniper.

“Stand,” Sniper tried, but his throat was dry, and he needed to clear it before he tried to speak again. “Stand up.”

Scout felt a tremor in his hands as he followed the instruction, absolutely on fire. Sniper stepped forward to meet him after a few seconds, holding him out at arm’s length, gaze catching on all sorts of things as he looked down, down.

When he finally looked up to meet Scout’s eyes, it was with a grin. “Felt like being tall, aye?” he asked, teasing.

“Maybe,” Scout said, a little defensive.

“Gorgeous little thing,” Sniper murmured, threading fingers through his hair against his scalp and pushing Scout’s head down anyways so Sniper could press a kiss to his temple, his chuckle reverberating through Scout’s chest. “Feels almost like I ought to be paying you. You look too nice to be standin’ around in a cramped little place like this on purpose.”

“You can pay me by not makin’ fun and not tellin’ anybody I wore this,” Scout murmured right back, leaning in to bury his face in Sniper’s neck.

“Darl, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” Sniper asked, a smile on his voice.

“I’m annoyed,” Scout corrected, even thought he wasn’t. “You’re lucky it’s almost your birthday.”

“I really am,” Sniper agreed, hand down on Scout’s thigh, toying with one of the tiny little bows, much further within his reach with the heels. “Mind if I lay you out and get a good look at you?”

“Fine,” Scout said, halfway to a sigh, and sat down on the bed. Before he could turn and lay down, Sniper was pushing his legs apart with a hand on either knee and kneeling between them.

He picked up one of Scout’s legs and lifted it to place it over his shoulder, turning his head to nose at the intricate patterns of the lace. He hummed, satisfied and pleased, eyes falling closed as he placed kisses scattered randomly across the expanse he had available to him.

Another chuckle, muffled into skin and thin fabric. “Oh, darl, I’m not making it ten minutes before I fall apart on you if you’re in this,” he admitted, flashing a half-apologetic half-hungry look up at Scout.

He felt his breath catch. A few seconds to collect himself enough to respond. “Well, as long as you’re good for more than one round,” he teased, only slightly wavering.

Sniper didn’t give a verbal reply to that, just starting in on a mark up above where the lace ended on Scout’s thigh, thumb drawing circles against fabric with one hand as the other set to work patiently starting to pull off his own clothes

He riled Scout up past the point of forgetting how embarrassing his outfit was and right up into desperate, into trying to touch himself and Sniper leaning up to pin his arms down, grinding slow rolls against Scout’s ass, boxers dulling the feeling down to just the push and pressure of it, until he was outright begging for Sniper to get on with it. Sniper yanked the panties down and off of him and sucked him off slow and patient, indulging Scout in two fingers only when he begged for them, and he hadn’t had eyes on the clock or anything, but he spent himself down Sniper’s throat in something like five minutes flat.

Sniper made a sound of discomfort when he finally sat up, rolling his shoulders. Scout got up on his elbows, fixing him with a look of confusion somewhere under the contentment, watching him trying to reach a hand to his own back, wincing hard.

“You okay?” Scout asked, starting to frown, sitting up fully with the help of shaky arms.

“Think the bloody heels got me,” Sniper grunted.

Scout caught sight of his back and his eyes widened. “Jesus,” he said, “turn around real quick?”

Sniper did, and Scout’s eyebrows shot up.

There were a series of marks along Sniper’s back, some of them scratches, mostly just sharp lines. It looked like Sniper had whacked himself on a table corner by accident, except a good five or six times and only along his back. Scout felt his face flush. He knew once in the past Sniper had complained about Scout having knocked him on the back pretty hard, but he hadn’t really considered the heels being a problem.

“Oh god,” Scout managed, leaning forward, brushing a thumb along one of the worse ones and being a little alarmed at the fact that it was bleeding. “Uh. You’ve got a first aid kit in here, right?”

“Scout,” Sniper said sternly.

“I—I’m gonna be honest, I knew this outfit was probably really gonna fuck with you, but I, I didn’t think it’d… this isn’t what I thought,” Scout managed, face burning hot.

“You fuckin’ drongo,” Sniper growled, swatting at him loosely and moving to dig through one of the cabinets.

“Sorry,” Scout tried, and meant it.

“Just—right, put a sheet on, lord knows I won’t be able to take care of this if I’m looking at you in that,” Sniper directed, giving him a sidelong glance and up-and-down to illustrate, and Scout did so without protest, dragging the sheet from the bed up around himself loosely, covering up to about his ribcage. “Care to help, darl?”

“Yeah,” Scout agreed. “And—and I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow at him, hands pausing for a minute.

“Like—“ Scout fished through his mind for something he could offer to make up for the mood being abruptly ruined. “Like, I’ll buy the next pair of these.”

“A whole set, maybe?” Sniper asked, joking now, eyes front.

“Sure.”

That seemed to take him by surprise, and he groaned, finally fishing out a first aid kit and standing up. “Cripes, mate, don’t get me thinking about it,” he warned, handing it over and sitting between Scout’s legs, turned away from him. “Need to clean these up before anything else.”

“Sure,” Scout repeated, and pulled a sanitizing wipe from its package. “Alright. This is gonna sting.”