#the snowball fight was cute

[bisexuals4tkachuk]

I feel like tooting my own horn so im just going to say, I can't believe I wrote this

"Is this an obligation or is it something more? Who are they outside of the letters sewn onto their jerseys?”

while on cold medicine while there was a literal fire alarm going off at my old job.

anyways im never topping that.

[tanghulucube]

Snowball fight!!

[theknucklehead]

Winter fun with Molly McGee.

[bihansthot]

It’s snowing here where I am and it’s supposed to be a Winter storm and all I can think of is how fun a snow fight with Bi-Han would be. You being his lover he of course would have mercy on you and not bury you in a mountain of snow. He even lets you hit him with snowballs a few times and he acts so proud of for getting him. You do manage to catch him off guard at least once though and land a hit right to his handsome face he’s a bit taken aback and decides to stop playing fair and before you know it you’re a human snowman. After all you can’t win a snowball fight with a cryomancer.

[wordingg]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Fluff and Angst, Developing Friendships, Snowball Fight, Snow Angels, Playing in the Snow, they've known each other a week and they're already so normal about each other, this was supposed to be pure fluff but, the inherent tragedy of Charles Rowland Summary:

“Edwin!” Charles’s head pops through the wall, smiling broadly. “It snowed!”

It’s only the years of training himself not to display untoward emotions—and that was before Hell—that stops Edwin from showing his unabashed relief. “It’s December, Charles. It does that.”

Was that too acerbic? Possibly. Before Edwin can apologize, Charles laughs, like he finds Edwin and his sharp tongue delightful. He has a tendency to do that. No one ever has ever laughed at Edwin like that before Charles, like he’s simply happy to be in Edwin’s presence, without a trace of cruelty. Edwin wonders if one of those rocks those hideous boys threw at Charles hit him in the head and if such injuries ever follow one into death.

“No, it’s proper snow, mate,” Charles says. “Come see!”

 In the days before they leave St. Hilarion's and set out to start the Dead Boy Detective Agency, Edwin and Charles are just two boys playing in the snow.

[doom-dreaming]

High Flakes Combat

“Blue Lead,” Linda’s whisper cuts across TEAMCOM, crisp and several degrees colder than the icy landscape. “Hostiles approaching your position.”

Fred, tucked behind the trunk of a towering pine tree, exhales a slow, measured breath. Waiting. Listening. Without his motion tracker, only the crunch of footsteps in the snow—and Linda—could tell him when their opponents were closing in.

There. Fifteen meters out. He motions to John, positioned behind an adjacent tree. On my signal.

…ten meters…

Cover me. Go high.

…five meters…

John nods. Fred tightens his grip on his weapon.

Now.

As one, they pivot, breaching cover. Fred drops to a knee, attacking swiftly, before their adversary has a chance to retaliate.

The snowball hits Ash directly in the center of his chestplate. Active camouflage flickers briefly, then recalibrates, as the young Spartan crashes dramatically to his knees before sprawling backward, motionless.

Fred doesn’t let the theatrics distract him. The other two had to be nearby and the round wasn’t over until— A snowball whizzes past his head, followed by a sharp curse—out loud, close. He catches a shimmer of white on white as Olivia leaps to find cover and “reload,” but John is faster.

The snowball hits her thigh before she can complete her maneuver and she slides to a dejected halt in a snowbank. “Dammit! Mark!” she calls out. “You’re on your own!”

Fred doesn’t hear a verbal response. He knows he won’t, Mark’s too good to give away his position— Thwap. Fred’s vision goes fuzzy and white as Mark’s snowball connects with his visor, splattering on impact. Fred groans and flashes a red status light across his team’s HUDs. He’d be out until the next round.

“He’s on the move!” Linda barks over the comms.

Fred folds himself cross-legged into the snow and wipes his visor clean just in time to see Kelly bounding over a nearby ridge, clutching a snowball in each fist.

“I’ve got him!” She goes streaking across the snow toward a barely-visible figure—also sprinting.

Mark wouldn’t be able to outrun Kelly—a fact Fred knew the S-III was well aware of—but he was certainly trying his best.

Kelly nails Mark with both snowballs, one in the shoulder, the other in the back. He stumbles just enough that Kelly’s momentum sends her into him at full force. The clack of their colliding armor echoes like a shot as both Spartans go tumbling to the ground, sending up a minor flurry in their wake.

“Aaaaaaaand match!” Roland’s voice rings out over the simulation deck, followed by a buzzer. “Blue Team takes the win!”

“Again,” Olivia grumbles, pushing to her feet and dusting snow off her armor.

“It’s three against four,” Ash reminds her, still lying on his back a few feet from Fred.

Olivia crunches her way over and offers him a hand. “Can we make Kelly sit out the next round?”

“If you’re not having fun, leave,” John quips.

“Or maybe you should switch Kelly to our team and see how it feels,” Livi bites back, helping Ash haul himself to his feet.

“Fighting over me?” Kelly rejoins the group with Mark close behind. “I’m flattered.”

Fred chuckles. It was good to see Olivia trading barbs with John. The Gammas had warmed up to him quickly—and he to them—and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Fred was sure the S-IIIs had given him some new streaks of gray hair, but at the same time, they made him feel younger. He hoped they were having the same effect on John.

“So…” drawls a familiar voice, raised just loud enough to carry, “this is the reason my fireteams can't train today? A snowball fight.”

Every Spartan in the simulated snowscape whips toward the entrance. Commander Palmer stands at the far edge of the scene, arms crossed. She looks odd and out of place, a lone figure in a techsuit against the stark white surroundings, but no less intense than usual.

“Thought we’d try something different from the typical drills, ma’am,” Fred coughs. He’s not sure why he feels guilty; they’d requested the time and blocked out the schedule and followed protocol…even if they hadn’t said precisely what they’d be doing…

Before anyone else has a chance to speak, a snowball goes sailing over Fred’s shoulder, on a collision course for Palmer. She’s too far away to hit, but the aim is dead-accurate and it lands with a wet plap several yards directly in front of her.

Even at this distance, Fred sees her eyes narrow. The vague guilt solidifying in his gut crystallizes into ice. He knows who threw that and he’s already, reflexively, preparing for the necessary damage control—and for Linda, no less. Kelly he was used to, but Linda?

Palmer shifts her weight and fixes the seven of them with a hard stare that lasts long past the point of being uncomfortable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she eventually orders, leveling a finger in their direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Without leaving any opportunity for rebuttal, she turns on her heel and swiftly disappears from the deck.

Immediately, Linda’s status light starts blinking rapid-fire green across Blue Team’s HUDs. Kelly follows suit.

“Really?” Fred grumps over TEAMCOM.

“Can you blame her if it worked?” Kelly retorts.

“Yes! You’re making an assumption and setting a bad example.” He switches to his helmet’s speakers. “Gammas, don’t throw things at your commanding officers.”

“Unless you’re sleeping with them,” Kelly adds, with enough tact to keep the comment on Blue Team’s private channel.

Another green light from Linda.

Fred willfully ignores both of them.

“...we’re not in trouble, are we?” Ash removes his helmet and shakes out his hair. “To be honest…I don’t know what just happened.”

Kelly seats herself on a tree stump, legs akimbo, smugness oozing from every seam of her armor. “Palmer’s getting suited up to come play with us.”

Ash seems unconvinced but Mark shrugs. “She’ll balance the numbers. We might even start winning.”

Only Blue Team can see—and appreciate—the red light John flashes in silent response.

**********

As threatened, Palmer returns exactly ten minutes later, fully armored aside from the helmet tucked into the crook of her arm. “Okay, here’s the official story.” She strides up to the group. “We’re running an unorthodox but fully sanctioned training exercise all day.”

“I’ve cleared the schedule and put out an open invitation,” Roland chimes in. “As requested.”

Palmer nods her approval. “Figured I’d let you have your fun on the condition that the rest of us could get in on it too.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Fred answers, echoing the array of green lights on his HUD. “Alright. Ground rules—we’re running blind for this, Commander. No motion trackers.”

She looks pleased. “I like a challenge.”

“If you get hit, you’re out for the round,” he continues. “Once you’re out, you can’t help anyone still standing. Round ends when a whole team goes down.” Fred nods toward the ceiling. “Roland’s keeping score.”

“Huh,” Palmer hums. “So you knew about this, too, Roland?”

“I…was informed the exercise would require a scorekeeper instead of a handler,” the AI answers, somehow managing to achieve the verbal equivalent of tip-toeing. “And I volunteered a mere fraction of my copious attention to the task.”

Palmer just rolls her eyes.

Ash clears his throat and steps forward. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if you joined our team.”

“They’ve been wiping the floor with us,” Olivia adds, somewhat ruefully.

Palmer looks back and forth between Blue Team and the Gammas with a hint of a smirk. “Well.” She slips her helmet on. “Allow me to level the playing field.”

**********

And indeed, the tide began to turn. Quickly. It wasn’t that the Gammas couldn’t hold their own, but Palmer was a different flavor of ruthless and even numbers did make a difference.

Kelly, as Blue Team’s sole survivor, was in the midst of a valiant stand, but she was up against Palmer and Olivia and they were going in for the kill. Up to this point, Kelly had been relying on her speed to evade them, but Fred doubted that would be able to carry her any further.

Palmer and Livi split around the back of the snowbank Kelly had hidden behind, falling into synchronized step with each other, timing their paces perfectly. Palmer’s boots fall heavier and louder, covering Olivia’s near-silent glide around the other side.

The strategy is obvious, at least from Fred’s position of passive observation—Palmer would draw Kelly’s attention, Olivia would come up on her flank and take her out. And it would work, too…on anyone less observant than Kelly. Fred has a feeling she’ll see right through it. But one of them was going to hit her either way, so it didn’t really matter as far as the outcome was concerned.

Surprisingly, a third option presents itself. Fred realizes after a few seconds that he’s been holding his breath, expecting Kelly to explode out of the snow and make a run for it, but…she doesn’t.

Palmer reaches the other side of the snowdrift and slows, confusion evident in her body language. She paces around the area, making sure not to stay still for too long, obviously reluctant to let her guard down completely. Fred can see the hazy mirage of Olivia’s SPI suit still moving in with careful deliberation.

There was no way Kelly could have moved. She hadn’t had enough time. More importantly, she would’ve been spotted if she’d tried to flee, so why couldn’t—

Palmer disappears. One second, she’s standing on the other side of the snowbank, visible from the waist up, and the next second she’s gone. Fred can’t see much of anything, but there are sounds of a scuffle and the blur of camouflaged armor as Livi sweeps in to assist with whatever the hell had just happened.

Barely a breath later, Roland announces the end of the match. “And Gammas-Plus-Palmer emerge victorious! …or should I say Olivia, specifically, seeing as she is the last Spartan standing. You know, you really oughta come up with a better name for your team—”

There’s a burst of indignant exclamations and flustered cursing from Palmer. She reappears only to rip her helmet off and kick some snow back in the direction from which she’d escaped.

Olivia removes her own helmet; Fred is surprised to see her laughing. “She got you good!” There’s a giddiness in her voice that Fred’s never heard before, but she seems to remember who she's talking to a moment later. “...ma’am.”

Kelly pops up beyond the ridge. She remains helmeted but Fred knows there’s a shit-eating grin on her face just from her posture alone.

“What happened?” He shouts the question out loud.

“She buried herself in the fucking snow and pulled my legs out from under me,” Palmer growls as she trudges over.

“And then I hit Kelly point-blank in the face!”

Olivia’s gleeful comment is backed by Kelly’s laughter over TEAMCOM. “Worth it.”

“Hey!” A different voice cuts into the conversation, once again pulling everyone’s attention toward the entrance. “Heard there was some kinda free-for-all goin’ on in here?” Gabriel Thorne stands flanked by the rest of Fireteam Majestic, all in full Mjolnir. “Got room for another team?”

Palmer waves them in. “Come on up, Majestic. We’ll get you briefed on the rules.” She sighs and fits her helmet back on. “Hope you’re ready to get your asses kicked.”

**********

An hour later, after Majestic had carved out a few victories of their own, Crimson shows up. Rules are recounted, home bases are realigned, play resumes. Within another two hours, there are four more Spartan fireteams on the field. Alliances are formed, both openly and secretly. Several hours are devoted to building snow forts. Play evolves. Forts are defended and captured, sabotaged and reinforced.

And then Lasky arrives.

“Captain on deck!” Roland bellows.

The silence that blankets the simulation deck is instantaneous and absolute. Nobody moves. If the snowballs already in flight could have frozen in midair, they probably would’ve. Instead, they land in a chorus of muffled thwumps.

Lasky stands there for a few seconds, small and unimposing by the distant doors, sporting his trademark expression of beleaguered amusement—presumably at being called out. “Don’t stop on my account,” he eventually says. “I just wanted to watch. …unless there’s a team looking for a liability,” he jokes with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Everyone on the field exchanges glances and shrugs. A sea of status lights blink across Fred’s HUD—most amber, some green. Finally, someone from Crimson waves Lasky over. “We’ll take you, Captain!”

He seems genuinely surprised by the invitation, but begins the trek across the snow. “Try not to kill me, alright?”

That draws laughs from most of the Spartans, but it’s John who actually banters back. “No promises, sir.”

[melle-otterwise]

Not yet the time for snowball fights, but I couldn't miss Cas's birthday! Happy birthday to the cutest angel of the garrison!! 💚️💙️😇️

(Sorry for the "CasS", I made this animation shortly after I got into this fandom, I didn't know the good spelling yet)

[yume-fanfare]

winter wonderland

[cuddlybats]

I win ^^

© 2023 Cuddly Bats  

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[sp000keyyy]

Holiday Special

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Masterlist

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Snowball Fight

Can be platonic or romantic!

GN!Reader

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"Have you seen my scarf?" You ask.

"Oh yeah, my mom put it on the coat rack earlier." Larry said, handing you your scarf.

The two of you had decided to go out to the treehouse, maybe build a snowman or two. It was the middle of winter so getting to the treehouse was going to be annoying, even if it wasnt thar far, the snow and ice made everything annoying this time of year.

You were never really a fan of snow, sure you thought it was pretty but actually walking in it was something else. It was cold and wet and just an inconvenience most days.

Larry was walking quickly to the treehouse, not noticing you taking slow, heavy steps to make sure there were no ice patches under the snow.

Suddenly, something cold and hard hit your shoulder. Larry erupts with laughter.

"I got you!" He yelled from the base of the tree house. You grumbled and leaned down to grab a handful of snow to launch back at him. Forming it into a compact ball, you chucked it in Larry's direction.

"You missed!" Larry yelled over, you were about to throw another snowball in his direction when you see a glob of white quickly flying at you. The snowball hit you right in the nose, sending you down into the snow.

"OH SHIT!" Larry yelled. He rushed over at you.

"Y/n are you okay? I'm so sorry dude, i was aiming for you chest." He said as he offered his hand out to you. You grabbed his hand with one arm and smashed a handfull of snow into his face with the other.

"GOTCHA!" You yelled, quickly getting up and trying to run away while he was stunned by your surprise attack. Trying your best to run to the treehouse without slipping and falling on your ass, you make it. You run behind the tree and start making as many snowballs as you can.

You can hear snow hitting the tree trunk behind you, sometimes you can see some of them flying past you.

"C'mon Y/n! Afraid I might i'll hit you again?!" Larry shouted towards you. You swiftly came out from behind the tree and chucked a snowball at Larry.

The two of you didnt even realise how much time you had spent pelting snowballs at each other until Lisa had come outside, telling the two of you to go back inside before you got sick. It was like the two of you zoned out, when you heard Lisa you realised how dark it had gotten outside. Had you really been in a snowball fight for that long?

The two of you went back inside to be greeted by hot chocolate on Larry's bed side table. You thanked Lisa and sat on the bean bag in Larry's room. The two of you spent the rest of the evening watching shitty horror movies until you went home.

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493 Words (2 549 characters)

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[adrift-in-thyme]

I read Winter Light by sister_dear the other day (highly recommend; it’s adorable) and had the urge to write something fluffy. And of course, I had to include First because I love him and he deserves good things for once

——————————-

“IT’S SNOWING.”

The ear-shattering exclamation jolts First out of a deep, dreamless slumber. He raises his head, blinking sleep from his eyes. Wind stands a short ways away, gazing out of the bedroom window and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

Carefully, First disentangles himself from the mass of slumbering heroes he had been held captive by. Somehow, they had all managed to cram onto a single bed the night before. Though it had been a bit smothering, he can’t help the twinge of remorse at breaking free from the welcome warmth.

“What’s that, Wind?” He whispers, as he gently removes Wild’s arm from where the champion had draped it over his shoulder.

Wind turns to look at him, a huge grin on his face.

“You gotta come see! It’s amazing!!”

The other heroes begin to awaken as First slides out of bed. They come to slowly, groaning and mumbling and shoving off arms and legs and blankets.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Legend snaps, unwrapping himself from his cocoon of Sky’s sailcloth.

Sky chuckles. First smiles, knowingly, as the veteran continues to grumble, all while taking his sweet time to fully remove himself from the embraces of his brothers. He is a bit like Legend, he supposes — still unwilling to allow himself to grow too attached to those he already holds dear. Both of their carefully constructed walls, however, seem to be crumbling.

The heroes have a way of doing that, First is quickly realizing.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Wind races back to the bed, practically vibrating with excitement.

“There’s white stuff everywhere outside! It’s all over the barn and the field and-and everything!” He grabs Legend as the veteran sits up, and shakes him so hard his teeth chatter. “IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.”

Legend shoves him off with a scowl. But he eyes the window curiously.

“Snow day, huh?” Warriors grins. “Well, you know what that means.”

Twilight matches his expression. “We’ve gotta go out in it, that’s what.”

Warriors bumps his shoulder against the rancher’s.

“Exactly.”

Sky rises from the bed now and walks to the window. First follows him.

The lawn is indeed covered in a thick blanket of snow. It seems to glow in the dim light of the cloudy morning. It covers the trees, weighing down their branches, and the tops of the fence, the roof of the stable too. Just as Wind said, it coats everything as far as the eye can see.

First steps closer to the window.

“It has been too long since I last saw snow,” he murmurs.

The last time he had reveled in the icy stuff had been before his imprisonment. He hadn’t realized how much he has missed it.

Sky smiles at him. “This is only the second time I’ve seen it. The first was when Zelda and I had just started building a home on the Surface. I’ll never forget it. It was so beautiful.” He chuckles. “Groose was terrified, though he’ll never admit it.”

First laughs. But before he can say anything further Wild shows up at their elbows.

“You two better get dressed. We’re heading out!”

“Hurry up or everybody’ll muddy the snow before you get to it!” Twilight says as he tugs on his tunic.

A mischievous smirk quirks First’s lips.

“If we try, we can beat them all,” he murmurs to Sky. The Skyloftian’s eyes light up. He turns and practically dives for his tunic and trousers.

They aren’t the only ones intent on making it out first. Before long, it’s all-out chaos in the bedroom. The heroes trip over one another in their haste, laughing and throwing clothes and boots. First nearly gets hit in the face with one of Legend’s.

Miraculously, though, he breaks free of the room before anyone else does. He rushes through the door with a burst of victorious laughter, the others racing after him, still pulling on their scarves.

“How’d you finish first?” Hyrule asks, once he manages to catch up. His tone is accusatory but he’s smiling. “Aren’t your joints old and achy?”

First grins at him. “Ancient though I may be, I am the First Hero. All of your tricks came from me.”

“What on earth are y’all doin’?” Malon asks when they come running into the kitchen. She pauses in her task of kneading some dough to look up at them. “The snow isn’t gonna go anywhere, you know.”

“It’ll get all ruined if we don’t go fast!” Wind exclaims, pushing through the front door. He nearly collides with Time who is coming in with a bucket of water in his hands. The hero raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the hurry, sailor?”

“SNOW!” Wind bellows. “Have you seen it?”

“I have.” Time smiles. “It’s quite beautiful.” His eye twinkles. “And perfect for snowballs.”

Hyrule and Wild exchange a glance, mischief glinting in their gazes. They sprint outside, letting in a rush of cold air in their wake. Wind is right after them, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’ll keep them in line, I trust?” Time mutters to First as he watches the others hurry out, trading playful jabs and yelping as the cold hits their skin.

First grins. “I will do my best.”

Time shakes his head, already turning back to Malon. He is smiling fondly though.

“I look forward to your efforts, First Hero. Wrangling these boys is nothing at all like leading troops, I assure you.”

First heads toward the endless white that beckons him.

“I believe you,” he says. At that moment, he catches sight of Wild dumping a gigantic pile of snow atop Twilight’s prone form. He chuckles, exasperatedly, and steps outside.

He pauses once he is over the doorstep to breathe in deep. The air is cool and crisp, biting at his skin and burning his lungs. The light of the early morning sun glints off of the fresh piles of fluffy white, nearly blinding him. But he squints bravely into it, a smile forming on his lips.

This beautiful day brings to mind one eons ago when he and his goddess had walked hand in hand through the winter wonderland that was Faron Woods.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost still feel her beside him, warm and magical and real. He can still see her beautiful face, brightened with a smile, love and joy and, perhaps, a hint of mischief sparkling in her blue eyes. He can still hear her laugh, loud and happy and free…and entirely at his expense after a tree limb deposits a handful of snow onto his head.

“Hey, First!”

He jolts out of his memory just in time to get a face full of powdery ice. He shakes his head, sputtering as the stuff cascades down his neck.

Sky, of all people, is grinning at him.

“Come on!” he says, laughing. “You said it’s been too long since you enjoyed the snow, right? Let’s have some fun!” He steps closer, expression softening. “She’d want you to.”

First gazes at him for a moment, trying to do away with the unexpected lump in his throat. Then, slowly, he smiles back. If Sky sees the glint of danger in it, he gives no indication.

“You’re right. Hylia would want me to enjoy this lovely weather.” He bends and scoops up a handful of snow, twisting it in between two, practiced hands. “And she would want me to enjoy it in a fashion that honors her.”

Sky’s eyes widen. The snowball hits him smack in the chest.

“Hey, no fair!” He complains. “I was trying to help you feel better!”

First is already in the process of creating more ammunition. But he pauses long enough to send the Skyloftian a cheeky grin.

“Ah, but you did help me feel better, Sky. That’s the problem.”

He throws another projectile. This time, however, Sky is prepared. He ducks into a roll and comes up smoothly a short distance away. Instantly, he digs his fingers into the snow, forming a sloppy snowball. First lunges for him and Sky leaps sideways, laughing. He whirls, sailcloth flying out behind him and nails First right in the face.

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!” Wild howls, as First dives for another handful of snow. And just like that the contained chaos is freed.

So much for keeping them in line, First thinks ruefully.

He has to admit though, that this is much more fun. After centuries of just existing and an eternity of pain, to be able to just have fun is almost a shock. A wonderful one.

Snowballs fly to and fro. Heroes tackle each other, rolling around in the snow, cackling. Shouts ring out as they pummel each other with the icy slush and slip and slide on the icy remnants of their footprints.

It isn’t until Malon calls out, “I don’t suppose any of y’all would like some hot cider?” that they decide to finally call it quits.

Exhaustion hits them as they all trudge inside, sopping wet and shivering. First can see it on every face, making their eyes droop and their movements slower, lazier.

He chuckles as Wild dares to take one, last swing at Twilight. The snow hits Warriors instead. If the captain weren’t already beat, First is certain he wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate.

“Next time, champion,” he warns, pointing a finger at him. A dangerous grin lifts his lips. “Next time I’ll get my revenge.”

“He will, believe me,” Time chimes in from where he stands in the doorway. He hands the heroes each a towel. “Now, dry yourselves off before you ruin the floors.”

When First steps up, trying to subdue his chattering teeth, Time smirks at him.

“I suspect you had fun?”

First grins. “I did. And you?”

He hadn’t missed the stray snowballs that had lacked an apparent source. Nor the mysterious footprints that would sometimes appear on the outskirts of the ruckus.

“Me? Of course. Spending time with my wife is always enjoyable,” the hero replies, calmly, and drops his towel right on top of his head.

First laughs as he drags it off.

After changing and drying themselves off, the heroes drift into the living room. They huddle close, mugs of cider cupped in their hands, drowsily watching the flames dance in the fireplace.

Malon and Time sit side by side on the couch, Malon’s head resting on her husband’s shoulder, Time’s arm wrapped around her. Twilight sits on the other side of them, slumped against Time, blinking as he tries to stay awake. Wild has settled down at his feet and the rancher lazily cards his fingers through his hair. Four is slumped on the champion’s shoulder, already fast asleep. Wild shifts to pull him closer.

Legend and Hyrule are close by, mugs close to tipping as they drift off in each other’s arms. Wind is wrapped in Warriors’ scarf and the captain smiles softly as the small hero sighs and cuddles against him.

First watches them all with a small smile on his lips. Beside him, is Sky, a blanket draped over his shoulders and First’s. The hero settles in closer, resting his head on First. Gently, First puts an arm around him.

This, he thinks as Sky gives him a bleary grin, this is pure bliss.

He almost can’t believe he is free to enjoy it. It feels as though any moment something will appear to shatter it all, like awakening from a pleasant dream.

Perhaps, it will. But for now, in this moment, he chooses to pretend that it won’t.

“Did you,” Sky mumbles, sleepily, “did you enjoy the snow like she would’ve wanted you to?”

First raises his eyes to the window. He swears he can see a figure dressed in white with hair the color of the freshly fallen snow. She turns and smiles at him before dissipating like the morning mist.

He smiles at the space where she once stood.

“Yes, Sky,” he murmurs. “Thanks to all of you, I did.”

[121231212i]

OH MY GODDD?????

[wormdramafever]

From KO_OP's recent newsletter wraping up the year!

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[forestdalecomic]

This can't end well...

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[arabian-batboy]

The dilemma of the liking the way Damian's characterization is written in "non-serious" media like the WFA webtoon, Lil Gotham, DC Super Hero Girls, Lego Batman or Scribblenauts, but not necessarily liking the childish mundane storylines.

[stearleart]

Rabbit throwing snowballs 22/11/23

Digital depiction of Beatrix Potter's most iconic 1901 character, Peter Rabbit, engaging in some boisterous winter fun.

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